When the morrow came (which was the fifth day of the week) Jesus abode
still in Bethany, and went not forth to Jerusalem. Now so it was that the
Passover that year fell on the Sabbath day; and because of the multitude
of the sacrifices that were to be slain between the two evenings in the
temple, it was a custom that certain of the pilgrims should keep the
Passover on a day before the Sabbath. For it was said (though I can scarce
believe it) that there were nigh upon three hundred myriads of souls in
Jerusalem during the Passover week; and even though the women partook not
of the feast, yet the number of lambs to be slaughtered must needs be very
great. Therefore we expected that he should have gone down to Jerusalem
that day, for so it had been determined with Joseph of Arimathea; and we
marvelled that he did not go. But he continued speaking unto Mary and
Martha and other of the women. And by this time it was noon, and yet
nothing had been done.
But at the last Peter went to him and reminded him that after two days
would be the feast of the Passover; and he asked Jesus where he desired
that we should prepare for the feast. Then Jesus bade Peter and John go to
a certain street in Jerusalem and to stand there during the ninth hour of
the day; and they should meet there a certain slave of Joseph of Arimathea
bearing a pitcher of water upon his head; and they were to say, as a sign
to the man, “The Master saith, my time is at hand; I will keep the
Passover at thy house with my disciples;” and the slave would shew them an
upper room prepared; and there they were to make ready. For the space of
an hour after Peter and John were departed, Jesus continued still speaking
unto the women: then he arose and bade them farewell, and set his face to
go down to Jerusalem.
When it was now late, the sun having set two hours or more, we sat down to
keep the feast; and Judas also was with us. While we sat at meat, we
spake, according to the custom, concerning the ancient deliverance of
Israel in the days of Moses: but our hearts were very heavy, for we said
within ourselves, “We need not a past, but a present deliverance; and,
behold, it is not to be.” Jesus alone was of good cheer, and rejoiced with
a marvellous joy; and he spake very cheerfully and tenderly to us, and
said that his heart had yearned to eat this Passover with us, for he
should not eat with us again till the Kingdom of God should be
established. Now at this we marvelled, but we rejoiced not; for we had
learned by much experience not to rejoice at the promises of Jesus as if
they were the promises of common men. Moreover we were sore disturbed by a
certain saying of Jesus. For in the midst of his comfortable discourse to
us, he suddenly brake off, saying that one of us, that sat there at meat
with him, should betray him. And he said, “The Son of man goeth as it is
written of him; but woe unto that man by whom the Son of man is betrayed!
It had been good for that man if he had not been born.” And hereat we sat
a while dumb and looking each at other, wondering whom Jesus might mean,
and afterwards we brake out into many and passionate questionings, each
asking whether he himself was to be the traitor: but Jesus made no certain
answer, none at least that I heard. At the last, before rising from the
table, Jesus looked earnestly upon us all, as if his heart went out to us:
and he pitied us, and said that he would now give us his last gift; for
this feast was as a funeral feast, and he was to die and leave us alone;
therefore, before he died, he desired to bequeath to us somewhat by his
last will and testament.
While we marvelled what this gift or legacy might be, behold, Jesus took
bread and blessed God, and brake it and gave it to each of us, saying,
“Take, eat, this is my body.” After this he took wine and blessed that
likewise, and bade us drink of it, saying, “This is my blood of the New
Testament, which is shed for many.” So we ate and drank as we were bidden,
even like children that have no understanding; nor did we then discern the
meaning of his words. Howbeit, even at that time we understood somewhat of
his purpose; for we perceived that Jesus was pouring his love, yea, and
his life, into our hearts; and our souls stretched out as it were toward
the truth, namely, that Jesus, in this testament of his, was bequeathing
himself to us his disciples, to be our possession for ever.
Now all the other disciples were strangely moved, insomuch that their
hearts were melted with the fervency of their love; but Judas alone was
unmoved. Yea, rather he was moved indeed, but in a manner quite contrary
to the rest. For when Jesus reached unto him the bread, all eyes were upon
him, for we could not now refrain from suspecting him: but he ate it
against his will, and as though he ate it with difficulty; and when he had
eaten it, he looked angrily at us that gazed still upon him, and then he
rose up in haste from the table, like unto one possessed with Satan. Now
while he was eating, Jesus beheld him with a marvellous love and pity,
yea, and, as it seemed to me, with a great struggle and conflict of soul,
as if he were wrestling for the last time against Satan for the soul of
Judas. But, when he perceived that Judas had hardened his heart against
him, he sighed, and said some word unto him, but what it was I heard not:
and hereupon Judas went hastily forth, and left Jesus still sitting with
us. Then did our hearts misgive us yet more. For none could any longer
doubt that Judas was indeed a traitor; and we bethought ourselves for what
cause he had gone forth, and when he would return.
But Jesus neither stayed him, nor lamented when he had departed; but he
seemed like unto one in whom all tears and sorrow had been swallowed up in
a certain unfathomable depth of joy. For he looked up to heaven and
offered up praise unto the Lord, the Deliverer of Israel, and he bade us
join him in singing a portion of the great Hallel; for the singing of
these psalms was according to the custom of the Passover. Now so it was
that, in the singing, Jesus must needs utter certain words that tell how
the Lord giveth life out of death: “The snares of death compassed me round
about, and the pains of hell gat hold upon me. I shall find trouble and
heaviness, and I will call upon the name of the Lord, O Lord I beseech
thee, deliver my soul:” and then, “Turn again then unto thy rest, O my
soul, for the Lord hath rewarded thee. And why? Thou hast delivered my
soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling. I will
walk before the Lord in the land of the living.” While he sang these
words, it was a wonder to see the face of Jesus, with what a brightness he
looked up to heaven, and how great a trust shone from his countenance;
insomuch that, as we gazed upon him, our hearts also seemed lifted up with
his. But Jesus went on, until he came to those following words of the
Hallel which say how “The right hand of the Lord hath the pre‐eminence:
the right hand of the Lord bringeth mighty things to pass. I shall not die
but live, and declare the works of the Lord. The Lord hath chastened and
corrected me, but he hath not given me over unto death. Open me the gates
of righteousness, that I may go into them and give thanks unto the Lord.”
At the last, when we sang of the stone refused of the builders but become
the head stone of the corner, he sang with an exceeding clear voice, not
loud, but very piercing, so that it seemed to cleave us to the very heart;
and behold, our voices became lower, even as his became clearer; and we
feared to sing the same words as he sang; but we were rapt with wonder as
we looked upon his countenance; for it was as the countenance of an angel
seeing the very glory of the Most High and gazing upon Him face to face.
And when he sang the last words of all, “God is the Lord who hath shewed
us light, bind the sacrifice with cords, yea even unto the horns of the
altar. Thou art my God, and I will thank thee; thou art my God, and I will
praise thee”; then indeed it came to pass that all we that listened to him
were lifted up in spirit with him in an ecstasy, being delivered from all
our doubts and cares and fears, looking down on them as petty things; and
it was even as if Jesus were holding us by the hand and carrying us up
with himself above the firmament, to the seventh heaven and beyond, yea
even to the Throne of the Blessed.
That instant, a knocking was heard at the door, and one entered in haste
and as if in terror; and he went up to Jesus and whispered in his ear.
Then the glory faded from the face of Jesus, and he became sad, and
straightway gave commandment to depart. But as we went forth from the
chamber to the roof (for the guest‐chamber was an upper chamber and upon
the roof, as was the custom in my country), we heard from the slave that a
guard had been sent forth by Annas to seek Jesus, and that Judas of
Kerioth was thought to be with them, to guide them to the place where
Jesus was. So we went down immediately from the upper chamber where we had
been at meat; and behold, as we passed from the brightness of the
moonlight, which shone upon the roof, down into the darkness of the shadow
of the street, we seemed to have passed out of life into death, and to
have been cast down from Paradise to the depths beneath the earth.
Now when we were all come down from the house into the street, Jesus stood
for a while in the midst of his disciples looking up to the sky; and he
seemed for an instant like unto one doubting whither he should go. For
first he made two or three steps toward the temple and the tower of
Antonia, as if to go thither (but this would have been certain death, for
the guard was coming thence, and we should have met them); but then he
looked at us and seemed to change his purpose. For he turned towards the
gate that leadeth to the vale of Kidron. Now why he did this we knew not
at that time; but afterwards we judged that he was moved at first to go to
meet the guard that he might give himself up at once unto death; but when
he had thought thereon, it seemed better for our sakes that he should
still remain with us a few hours longer. Perchance also he wished to
commune with God alone upon the mountain of Olivet; for he ever loved the
loneliness of mountainous places and nightly prayers. Moreover Quartus
writeth to this effect, that “though Jesus knew that he was to die, yet
the manner of his dying, and how he should be taken, was not known to him:
therefore he would not prevent the hand of the Lord, but would avoid the
peril by all honourable means even till the last, leaving the decision
with the Lord.”
As we drew nigh to the gate of Kidron I was near him, and I heard him
repeating some saying of Scripture to himself; and at the last, he spake
aloud and said, “All ye shall be offended because of me this night, for it
is written, I will smite the shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered.”
But when he marked us, how exceedingly we sorrowed at these words of his,
then he began to encourage us again; and he spake some words how that he
would return to us, or guide us hereafter. Now what he said exactly I know
not, for I was a little behind the rest. But he looked around him in the
narrow street, as though that were no place for him to abide in: and then
he added some words concerning Galilee, which I did not clearly hear.
Howbeit, it seemed to me that he said he should manifest himself to us
hereafter, not in Jerusalem but in Galilee.(11) And so also most of the
disciples interpreted his words. But we all with one consent cried out
that we would never desert him nor go from his side; and he listened to us
gently, even as a mother listeneth to the prattle of a little child which
prattleth concerning the things which he will do when he cometh to man’s
estate. Even so listened Jesus to our speech; but when Peter was vehement,
even above the rest, in protestations, Jesus interrupted him, and said
that before the morrow’s sun had risen, yea, before cockcrow, Simon Peter
should have denied him.
By this time we were come to the gate of the Kidron valley; and methought
certain of the servants of the chief priests, which stood together at the
gate, were advised of the intent to arrest Jesus, and were fain to lay
hands on him. Howbeit, many were coming in and going out, and we that were
going with Jesus joined ourselves together around him, insomuch that the
guards suffered us to pass; for they could not then have taken him
quietly, nor without a tumult; which thing they purposed to avoid. And so
it was that, as we closed ourselves together for to encompass Jesus and to
guard him, my place was very nigh unto Jesus, even next upon his left
hand; and as we went down the steep path which leadeth across the brook
Kidron, I chanced to stumble; and Jesus took me by the right hand to stay
me from falling. And the touch thereof remaineth with me unto this day;
for his hand was not again to touch my hand upon earth.
When we were now going up the hill on the other side of the brook (being
by this time quite out of the shadow of the city walls, so that we could
see all things in the moonlight very clearly), we perceived that Jesus was
still meditating on prophecies; and ever and anon he looked upon us, as
though his care for us were a burden on his soul. And perchance he desired
to prepare us to live without him in the world; and not to depend upon the
exact words of his precepts, nor to make therefrom a rule nor a law unto
ourselves, but to obey the Spirit only; making new rules and laws for
ourselves if need were, even as the times might suggest and the Spirit
might bid us. For he said unto us, “When I sent you without purse, and
scrip, and shoes, lacked ye anything?” And we said “Nothing.” Then said he
unto us, “But now he that hath a purse let him take it, and likewise his
scrip.” Here he paused awhile, and then he added these words: “And he that
hath no sword let him sell his garment and buy one. For I say unto you
that this that is written, must yet be accomplished in me: ‘And he was
reckoned among the transgressors.’ For the things concerning me have an
end.” Hereat we wondered, that Jesus (who had ever spoken against smiting
with the sword) should bid us buy swords. Howbeit, we answered that we had
two swords with us. Straightway Jesus ceased from walking, and stood quite
still for an instant; and it seemed as if he marvelled at our want of
understanding, but yet perceived that he must needs be content, for he
could do no more to help us. Therefore he said nothing, but presently
continued to walk on as before. But, as I now suppose, his meaning was to
prepare us for much tribulation, and that we should, in the days to come,
use all means and all faculties in his service. Howbeit, even to this day,
I understand not altogether that saying about the buying of a sword. But
as I judge, Jesus had invisible things in his mind, and he spake of the
stores and treasures, and of the weapons also, that were like to be needed
in the great and terrible war which we were to wage against Satan in the
days to come.
Against this, Xanthias urgeth (and methinks not without shew of reason)
that the scrip and purse whereof Jesus made mention in Galilee were not
invisible things, but visible: but, if they were visible, so also must the
sword needs be, whereof Jesus made mention in the same saying. But Quartus
replieth that when Jesus, being still with us in the flesh, sent the
disciples forth in Galilee without purse and scrip, he would have them to
go forth not only without visible purse and scrip (which indeed they did),
but also without the spirit of the purse and the spirit of the scrip, that
is to say without forethought and provision, the better to awaken them to
whom they were to preach the Good News: and this, saith Quartus, was the
main part of the precept of Jesus. But now that he was to be no longer
with us in the flesh, he changed his precept, bidding us use the spirit of
the purse and the spirit of the scrip: and “after those words,” saith
Quartus, “that ye might the better understand them, Jesus paused” (which
indeed he did, for I took note of it) “in the midst of his saying, and
bade you buy a sword, supposing that ye would know assuredly that he (who
ever hated the sword) could not mean a visible sword, but an invisible:
even that two‐edged sword which Jesus brought into the world to do battle
against evil withal. And belike,” saith Quartus, “Jesus meant that, after
he should be taken away, we were never to be content to defend ourselves
against evil, nor to lead harmless lives in peace and quiet (as the
Essenes are wont to do); but that we were evermore to do battle against
evil, and to assail it, and to give up all things sooner than cease to
make war against it.”
At this time came down one from Bethany to tell us that the servants of
the chief priests had beset the house of Mary and Martha, and others were
watching on the road for to take Jesus if he should come up the hill.
Therefore Jesus turned aside from the road and went unto a place whither
he had also beforetime gone with us: it was a small vale, wherein grew
many olive‐trees, insomuch that it was hence called the Press of Olive
Oil, or Gethsemane. When Jesus came to this place, we would fain have
still accompanied him; but he suffered us not, but bade us stay where we
were, and there to watch and pray, lest we entered into temptation: for
these were his very words to us. But taking John and Peter and James, he
himself went forward about a stone’s cast; and we noted that, after a
short while, he parted from them, though they were fain to stay him (for
we could hear all things as well as see, because the night was very calm,
and no less still than bright); and he went on yet another stone’s cast or
somewhat less, and the three disciples sat down where they were. Then
Jesus stretched out his hands unto the Lord and prayed with exceeding
earnestness; and to us, where we stood, he seemed as one in a sore agony;
for at one time we could discern him standing erect, but at another time
kneeling or prostrate upon the ground; and though he spake not loud, yet
could I hear words that made my very flesh to shiver and creep; for he
cried unto the Lord and said, “Father, if it be possible, let this cup
pass from me.” These words he said more than once, so that I could not but
hear them; and a sickness of heart and an horror fell on me that such an
one as Jesus of Nazareth should come to such a pass, and should ever need
to say, “if it be possible.”
Now so it was, that in spite of our sorrow and anguish of heart, all we
that watched with Jesus at this time were so pressed down with a strange
slumber that it was not possible for us to resist the burden thereof upon
our eyelids; and oftentimes we would walk up and down and speak each to
other for to shake off the leaden weight from our eyes; but we could not,
no, though we were angered, and reproached ourselves aloud. For we had not
slept much during three nights past or more, because of the need of
watching for Jesus; and besides, the very unexpectedness of all that
sorrow which had of late encompassed us round on every side, caused us to
feel like unto them which wander in the wilderness of a dream or vision of
the night, insomuch that we scarce knew whether we were asleep or awake:
and the anguish of Jesus itself was unto us as it were but a part of a bad
dream. For we could not attain to understand his sorrow, nor to share in
his burden. Only we knew that he sorrowed not for fear of death. But we
knew not at that time the secret of his agony, how he was at that instant
wrestling with Satan for the salvation of all the children of men. Yet so
indeed it was. And though the suffering of Jesus was seen of men when his
body hung upon the cross, yet meseemeth it was seen of God when he was
prostrate upon the ground in Gethsemane, and his soul was crying unto the
Lord and saying, “if it be possible.”
Loth am I to write many words concerning that which is above all reach of
words, yea, and above all reach of the thoughts of men; yet will I here
set down that which was said unto me concerning this matter by a certain
Alexandrine, a friend of Quartus, who was a man of an understanding spirit
and of discernment above the common. This man, when I once marvelled
aloud, in his presence, as to the cause of the agony of Jesus, made answer
to me and said, “What was it, thinkest thou, that caused Jesus more pain
and sorrow than aught else?” So I replied, “Without doubt, the sins of
men: for he often spake as if it were a pain to him, even to forgive the
sins of men.” But the Alexandrine replied, “As it seemeth to me, Jesus did
not merely forgive sins twice or thrice in a week, nor in a day, no, nor
even in an hour: but his whole life was a state of forgiving, and a state
of bearing sins and of carrying iniquities, and of making himself one with
sinners. For this end it was needful that Jesus should have strength to
trust in men and to hope for men: for without trust and hope thou knowest
it is impossible for thee to lift up a sinful man in forgiveness,
howsoever great may be thy love for the sinful.
“Therefore, even as the Gentiles fable that Atlas doth bear up the pillars
of the earth, even so, methinks, Jesus of Nazareth knew in himself that he
bare up the pillars of the invisible Jerusalem, the city of the souls of
men; and so long as he had strength to trust and hope, so long he knew
that the invisible city stood and was to stand; but, if he should fail in
trust and hope so that he should fall (even for a single instant), then
behold, in that same fall of the Son of man fell all the world, yea, all
the souls of men, and all the Temple of the Congregation of the children
of God; and so the universe became the hunting‐ground of Satan, and the
children of men his prey, and God was not. Peradventure, therefore, the
burden of Jesus was this bearing of the sins of men, and especially of the
sin of Judas and the infirmities of you his disciples, and the thought of
the impotence of good to conquer evil. Moreover perchance there rose up
before him the image of the morrow, when he should hang upon the cross,
and when the strength and force of life should leave him, and there should
be no one to succour, no one to comfort; and a vision from Satan stood
before him, and he heard a voice that whispered evil things: ‘If now thou
shouldest lose thy trust for an instant? and the pillar should be snapped?
and the invisible city should fall? and the gates of hell should prevail
over the gates of heaven?’”
This then is what the Alexandrine said unto me concerning the suffering of
Jesus: but it needeth not to say that at this time we understood naught of
these things: only we perceived that some terrible thing was at hand. But
about the space of an hour or more, as I judge, had passed since we first
heard Jesus say, “if it be possible”; and now methought Jesus was less
disturbed in praying. And presently we saw him standing upright, very
clearly to be seen in the light of the moon, which streamed upon him
through the olive branches; and these words were borne to our ears through
the stillness of the night, “O my Father, if this cup may not pass away
from me, except I drink it, thy will be done.” But some of the disciples
told me afterwards that at this time they saw a shape, as of an angel
clothed in white, ministering unto him. But I saw it not, for it may be
that I was at that time slumbering: for soon after I had heard Jesus speak
these last words, there fell a deep sleep upon me and upon the rest of the
disciples that were nearest to me. Afterwards they all slumbered and
slept, even the sons of Zebedee and Peter also; and perchance this thing
was from the Lord, to the intent that Jesus might bear all his burden
alone.
After this, I remember no more, save that I had a vision of the night in
my slumber, wherein I saw Jesus of Nazareth clothed in bright raiment,
glorious to behold. He stood and prayed upon the summit of a mountain.
Howbeit in my dream it seemed to be not Mount Olivet, but the Mount of the
Law in Galilee. And as I looked upon him, his stature grew larger and his
raiment brighter, till the brightness thereof filled the sky, and set it
all in a flame. With that I awoke on a sudden, and opening mine eyes, I
perceived that there were flames indeed around me; then, leaping up, I
found myself in the midst of torches, and armed men compassing me round.
Yet could I discern, through the midst of them all, Jesus, with a calm
countenance, stooping over John and Peter and James, and arousing them
from sleep.
Now all that came to pass thereafter was finished in a few moments, though
it take long to tell. For Judas, who was the guide of the armed men, ran
swiftly before the rest up to Jesus and said, “Hail, Master,” and saluted
him. And, as I was told by them that were nigh to see, Judas seemed as if
he knew not, even at the last, what would come to pass, nor scarce what he
himself was doing. For he embraced Jesus and pointed to the soldiers that
followed behind him, as if half expecting that Jesus would call down fire
upon them. But Jesus looked upon him as if looking upon a stranger, and
made him such answer as to shew that he perceived his treachery; whereat
Judas drew back, they said, as one distraught. Then Simon Peter drew a
sword and struck a blow at one of the soldiers; and the rest of us ran up
to have joined in the fray. But Jesus straightway rebuked us, and bidding
Peter put up his sword, he yielded himself up to the soldiers. Yet even to
the last he was as a son obeying the will of the Father, and not like unto
one acting from constraint; for I myself heard him say unto Simon Peter,
“Thinkest thou that I cannot pray to my Father and He shall presently give
me more than twelve legions of angels? But how then shall the Scriptures
be fulfilled, that thus it must be?”
Now up to this moment we had not yet fled; for we could not even then
believe that our Redeemer, the Messiah, the Son of the Living God, would
be led captive; yea, even though he resisted not, yet were we assured that
the Lord God of Israel would stretch out His hand to deliver His Holy One.
So we still waited and were in expectation. But when at last the servants
of the high priests laid their hands on him and the soldiers bound him and
dragged him roughly away, and yet no fire from heaven came down upon them,
neither did the earth open her mouth to swallow them up; then we all
forsook him and fled.