CHAPTER FOUR—1ST CENTURY

 

I worked my way toward the back of the crowd following Jesus toward the Mount of Olives and the Garden of Gethsemane. I slipped into the shadows. My mind was racing. What was I going to do? If Jesus isn’t turned over to the Sanhedrin tonight time could be altered. What would that mean for me? What would that mean for the rest of humanity? Christianity has made such an impact on world history this could change everything if Judas doesn’t betray Jesus.

“…but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been good for that man if he had not been born.” Jesus’ words haunted me as I worked my way further into the darkness.

“Judas, why are you lagging behind”?

I turned to see James’ face in the darkness. James the Elder he was called. He was John’s older brother, the same John who would later be attributed with writing the Gospel according to John and the Book of Revelations. Like Simon Peter, James was a fisherman, a straightforward man who saw things pretty much in black and white. He reminded me of my teammate Ignacio back in Iraq. They had the same humble background and honesty to them. I hated to lie to James.

“I have to take my leave,” I said, a polite way to tell a first-century person that you had to use the restroom.

“Oh, then hurry, we don’t want to miss anything that Jesus may have to say to us tonight. Since it’s Passover he may have something special for us.” James waved and sprinted to catch up with the small crowd.

Yes, he has something special for you, my friend, this is a special night James, I thought. A very special night indeed, and one way or the other the fate of human history stands at a crossroad tonight.

The fate of humanity stands at a crossroads and I’m the one who must choose the path that history will take.

I turned and walked back to the city gate. Why me, I thought, why me?

What was really eating at me was the thought that I’d just participated in the Last Supper and up to this point had seen and done everything Judas would have done. Jesus bathed my feet, he gave me the cup of his blood and the bread of his body. We had walked together, camped together, broken bread over hundreds of fires and I’d heard and seen so much.

How, after all, he…we, had been through these past years could Judas betray Jesus?

I’d come a long way in three years…or was it two thousand?

 

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