Joseph –
I finally made it home. I saw your man at the temple and asked him if he would come by later to collect this letter. He said he would make sure you got it. I could´t find you anywhere. Until recently, I could´t find anyone. I have to write you. I have been on the run for three days and so much has happened. I hope I make sense. I will try.
What has happened? We saw you on Tuesday and you were so upbeat. I had never seen you like that before. All you could say was how much the people liked us and how effective Jesus had been. You must have been kept in the dark to what the Sanhedrin really was thinking. You were not as invisible to them as you thought. There is nothing you can do now, I know. It all went so bad so fast. Jesus was always a bit distracted and withdrawn. He had been like that really since lazarus. I have had some time to think and gain a bit of perspective. My brain has been pouring over every look, every gesture. He split us up on Thursday with the rendezvous to be at Michael´s home, upstairs. You remember? With the back entrance?
That night we ended up in the “olive press” garden. Just outside the wall past the old press. He said he wanted to pray. That was nothing new, really. We had been here lots of times but never so late and never with such a tension in the air. He asked the group to sit down and a few of us went on with him. He told us to wait and pray with him. He went on alone. I did not feel good about this. To make along story short we fell asleep and woke up to a loud sound of voices and torches. Judas was leading the group. I was relieved. He greeted Jesus and everything went crazy. They grabbed Jesus and tied him up. All of us just scattered into the night. I have the memory of Peter´s voice say something but I was so frightened, I ran as fast as I could.
I can´t tell you where I have been since then. My head is just spinning. I feel like I am being watched and I have never been so fearful in all my life. I finally caught sight of Jesus yesterday morning. Can it be? Is it really only yesterday that they agreed to release Baraba and kill Jesus? These people are crazy. I stood among them at the hall of judgement and watched Pilate. These people were spitting and ripping their clothes as they were screaming to crucify Jesus. I recognized them from earlier in the week. These same people.
I stayed at a safe distance while he walked through the streets. I was truly more afraid that he would see me than anything else. I was so scared and ashamed and yet I was compelled to follow and watch. They got some big, black man to carry the cross the last bit. Jesus was just too weak. Jesus hung on the man for support. It was a terrible thing to witness.
The crowd pressed in as we left the city and the cheering and ranting from people was like a drunken brawl. People were falling all over themselves to see what was happening. I became aware of the blood that I was walking in. It smelled of urine and blood and horse and anger. I could barely breath. I pulled myself to the side to try and find some space and then I saw him. I guess I never really noticed the crucifixions that I had seen before. We always just hurried right by . They had nailed Jesus to the cross beams. Hands and feet. He was trying to breathe and scream. I hardly recognized him. He no longer looked like himself. If I had not been following him for the past hour I would have said that this could not be Jesus. I can´t tell you more. His face was bloody and torn. His cheeks were almost off his face so you could see the bones in his face. His convulsions to breath shook his whole body. I was drawn to move closer. There was more room as the people moved away. I saw some looking sad. I saw some looking angry. They were yelling up at him. There was so much going on. The other men being killed were on separate crosses beside him. He was in the middle. I did not see you but I saw many of your brethren. They said what they had to say and left. The wind was howling so loud. Or maybe it was the sound of my thoughts and dreams and hopes and beliefs being sucked out of me. The soldiers were everywhere, pushing people and keeping the crowd moving.
One climbed up and put some sign on his cross. I did not understand what it meant. I was looking at him. I could not look but for short periods of time. He was being pulled apart, muscle by muscle, ligament by ligament. I found myself standing next to his mother. He was trying to talk to her. She looked like she wanted to fly up to his side, she was so out stretched to him. My head was reeling from the smell and noise. I think I blacked out. I do not remember. Next thing I remember, they were taking him down off the cross. It was so dark but was not yet Shabot. They had to hurry,that is clear. Mary, his mother, grabbed him and held him. He was nothing to hold. He was a bloody shell of what was once a man. She held his body to herself and screamed such a scream as I will hear in my head until I die. I have never heard a human make such a sound. It seemed to go on forever. The soldiers backed off and we surrounded her as the people wrapped his remains for transport. Like in a fog, I followed. That is when I saw you, at a distance. You were leading the way to the tomb. The next thing I saw was the stone rolled to close the tomb. You left. Mary stayed for a while and then left with some men. I was frozen stiff. I could not move. The centurion came and hit me with his shield to drive me off. I stumbled through the under brush and rocks on my way back into the city.
I sat down in a dark corner somewhere just inside the gate. There was no noise. I never never why, all of a sudden, the whole city stopped. It was like a very long inhale. I looked up and where there were usually stars, there was a blanket of black over the sky. I turned and saw a man siting very close to me. I recognized him. Judas was sitting on the ground, in the dark, just inside the gate. I asked him where he had been. He said that he had seen everything. He would not look at me but talked looking straight ahead. He said that he had hoped for change and was sorry. He made no sense. I could not understand him. He looked at me. He handed me the purse he had always carried. It was heavy. He said for me to give it to Mary, his mother. He got up. I started to ask him something but he put his finger to his mouth as if to silence me. He ran out the gate into the night.
Dread hung on the city all night. I wondered through the streets with no rhyme or reason. I looked for the others all day today. A few of us met outside the city in the grotto where we often bathed. We are there now. There is talk that more will join us. Peter arrived about an hour ago. No one dares talk to him, he is so despondent and remorseful. Where are you? We could sure use some of your wisdom and guidance tonight. My thoughts go to Mary tonight. Here at the end of all things, it is Mary that carries the deepest loss and pain. She is said to be on the way to us this evening. We have known him for about 3 years. She was there at the start. What a horrible end! Come soon!
J
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