Though we had so basely fled from our Master, yet away from him we were
not able to rest. Therefore we followed after the guard down the mountain,
even into Jerusalem, and mingled with the concourse that was gathered
together before the doors of the High Priest’s house. Near me was John the
son of Zebedee; who, having some acquaintance in the household of the High
Priest, gained access into the house; and Peter also with him. But I
remained without; and I conversed with the people, making as if I were no
Galilean, but a citizen of Jerusalem. For I perceived that the most part
of the multitude were men of Jerusalem, some indeed citizens, but the
greater part servants of the chief priests, and money‐changers, and
cattle‐dealers; who had been gathered together of set purpose by the
enemies of Jesus.
But when I asked one why he hated Jesus (for the man had declared aloud
that he trusted that day to see Jesus on the cross), he replied, “Because
this Galilean marreth our trade, and taketh away our living; for behold,
these three days men buy no beasts for sacrifice from my stalls in the
temple.” And another said, “Yea, and he maketh no secret that he purposeth
to destroy our religion, and change our customs which Moses appointed: for
he saith that he will destroy this temple, and boasteth, forsooth, that he
will raise up another equal to this in three days.” Now this saying of
Jesus (which indeed he had not said, for I have set down his words exactly
above) had been carried from mouth to mouth throughout Jerusalem; and the
chief priests had everywhere caused it to be rumoured that the intent of
Jesus was to destroy the temple with fire during that Passover. Therefore
the hearts of many of the devout and sober people were turned away from
Jesus.
After we had waited about two hours or something less, a certain Scribe
came up to a servant of the chief priests, who was conversing with me; and
the Scribe asked the man concerning the multitude, for what cause it was
gathered together: and the man said, “To see the false prophet, named
Jesus of Nazareth, who is to be condemned to death.” “Nay,” said the
other, “then thou losest thy labour. For if a man be tried for his life,
he may not be tried on the day before the Sabbath; for the Law alloweth
appeal on the morrow. Therefore if, as thou sayest, Jesus of Nazareth is
yonder being tried, it cannot be that he is tried for his life.” Hereat I
rejoiced greatly, for I bethought myself that it was even so as the Scribe
had said, wherefore it could not be that Jesus was to be tried for his
life. But when I drew nigh unto them (for the press had parted us for an
instant): “I give thee a yea for thy nay,” said the other, “for thou
knowest the Law, but I know my master Annas; and he is not the man to
allow a little matter of a day to stand in his way; nor to permit the
booths and shops in the temple (whence cometh profit to the priests) to be
destroyed by false prophets and Galileans to boot.” Then indeed my heart
misgave me that it was to be no trial, but only a murder.
Just then one came down the steps leading from the High Priest’s house,
and the people ran together towards him to know what had been done. He
stood still, and made a gesture that they should keep silence; and then in
a clear voice he spake to the multitude and said, “The council hath
pronounced that Jesus of Nazareth is a man of death.” Hereupon there was a
general shout, for all knew that to be “a man of death” meant to be
condemned to die: and straightway a cry arose, “Stone him, stone him;
bring him out that we may stone him.” But the man checked them that
shouted, saying that the accused must first be led to the judgment seat of
the procurator, Pontius Pilate, for without his judgment it was not lawful
that any should be put to death.
Then my heart revived a little again; for it seemed there was still some
hope. But seeing Simon Peter come forth from the High Priest’s house, I
pressed through the throng if perchance I might come at him, to ask him
touching the trial, and what the witnesses had testified, and how Jesus
had borne himself. But Peter seemed not to see me; and even when I called
him by name he would not hear me. At last, by dint of striving, I came
near him in the throng and caught hold of his garment, and stayed him by
force. Then, indeed, he stayed; but as he turned round and his face looked
upon my face, behold, I saw in his countenance shame, and remorse, and
despair; and he assayed to speak, but could not, and wrung my hand in
silence. Then waving me off that I should not any more stay him, he hasted
away, and I durst not follow him; for it was evident to me that the
prophecy of Jesus had been fulfilled, and that Simon Peter had denied our
Master.
I turned back into the throng, for my intent was to have remained standing
without, till such time as Jesus came forth. But I heard the servant of
the High Priest say to one of his acquaintance that the procurator was not
one to have his sleep broken by business at so early an hour; “Therefore,”
said he to his companion, “go home to thy house, and warm thee, if thou
wilt; for there will be naught to see these three hours.” Then it came
into my mind that the mother of Jesus, and likewise Mary Magdalene, and
the other women, were all this while in Bethany, neither knew they aught
of that which had befallen Jesus; and it was fit they should be told.
Therefore I went forth by the gate of Kidron and up the Mount of Olives
even to Bethany; and there I writ a few words, telling what had befallen,
and left it in the hand of one of the servants of the house; for to go in
myself and to tell the tale, and to look upon their sorrow, I durst not do
it. This done, I hasted back for to go down to the house of the
procurator, making sure to have arrived thither long before they had made
an end of the trial. But when I was gone but two or three hundred paces
from Bethany, one of the women ran after me with tears and lamentations,
beseeching me to return and to tell them all; and she constrained me. So I
returned and told them all; and the memory of their lamenting remaineth
with me unto this day.
Thus passed a long time, a very long time as it seemed to me; but at last
I withdrew myself from them perforce, and hasted down the mountain. But
when I was come to the palace, behold the trial was over; and I saw the
rear part of a moving throng, and one told me that they were taking the
prisoner to be crucified at Golgotha. Then my heart within me seemed to
burst; but though I was faint before with long watching and weariness, I
was not faint now, but sped after the throng. Many times did I strive to
press in amidst them, if perchance Jesus might look but once upon me, or I
might see his face, or so much as catch a sight of his garment as he
walked; and I wept and was ready to curse myself that I had gone from the
High Priest’s door before I had seen my Master’s face. For now I could not
see him, no, nor anything of him, save now and then the cross, which, as
they told me, he was carrying upon his shoulders; but I heard the men in
the crowd saying what insults had been offered to him, and how he had been
scourged and mocked and spit upon, decked with a crown of thorns and a
sceptre of reed; and I was as one distracted, in whom there is no power of
thought.
By this time we had passed out of the city through the western gate, and
the fore part of the multitude was come to the place of execution; and
they that went before me came now to a stand; and I saw the cross lifted
up for an instant, to the intent, as it seemed, that it might be laid upon
the ground; and one near me said, “Now they are making ready.” Then I
gnashed my teeth, for I could do naught else; but I was ready to curse God
(blessed is He), for I knew right well what that “making ready” meant; and
a deep silence fell on all the crowd; and I could hear the blows of the
hammer upon the nails; and every man held his breath, if perchance there
might come the sound of a shriek or a groan. But no such sound came to the
place where we stood.
Presently arose a very loud shouting from the multitude that stood before
me, and behold, the cross was reared up so that the top thereof was a
little above the heads of the people; and from afar off I could just
discern Jesus. But I saw not his face; for his head was bowed forward and
his hair, hanging over his forehead, hid his eyes. But when I thrust
myself forward to have approached nearer, I could not for the press. At
the same time there rang in upon mine ears a very storm of mocking and
reviling and cursing against Jesus from all the bystanders, yea, even from
the women and little children (with such a venom of slander had the Chief
Priests poisoned the minds of the people); insomuch that I seemed to stand
alone among a host of the children of Satan; neither could I endure any
longer to behold such a sight, amid such beholders, and to be of no avail.
Wherefore I became as one possessed; and I turned my back upon the cross
and forced my way out of the crowd; the people calling after me and
mocking me, and plucking me back by the cloak as I fled.
But even as my body fled away, my soul was drawn back unto the cross; and
I feared to go back lest I should see Jesus, and I feared to go forward
lest I should never see him. And these two fears were as two devils that
possessed me, driving me hither and thither about all the hills and
valleys of that neighbourhood for the space of two hours or more; and
during all that time the fear to go back was the stronger. But about the
eighth hour of the day, as I wandered like unto one dreaming, not knowing
whither I went, behold, I stood on the top of a certain hill; and thereon
was a flock of sheep quietly pasturing, and the shepherd‐boy piping to
them, and sunlight was all around. But casting mine eyes downward, I saw
very far off, under a dark cloud, the multitude still standing round
Jesus, and three crosses in the midst (for other two were crucified with
him); and all in so small a space that it seemed no larger than a man’s
hand.
Then came my misery back to me with a shock; and it seemed a wonderful and
an horrible thing that in a little corner of the earth the Almighty should
suffer such a one as Jesus of Nazareth to be slain on the cross: and yet,
behold, the sun shone and the shepherds piped to their sheep, and there
was peace upon the mountains, and all as if nothing strange were happening
below. But soon these and all other thoughts were swallowed up in one
remembrance, namely, that if I would see Jesus alive, not many minutes now
remained unto me; for the sun was sinking towards the west, and I knew
that he could not be suffered to remain upon the cross when the Sabbath
began; for that had been against our customs. Therefore I ran down with
exceeding speed, and came again to Golgotha about the tenth hour.
When I was now within two or three furlongs of the place, I perceived that
some of the people were already coming away; for the Passover was near at
hand, so that they must needs go to their homes. So I ran on, and came to
the place where the multitude was standing. And because the throng was
diminished, I was now able to come very much nearer to the midst of the
multitude, not more than a stone’s cast from the cross. But alas for the
sight I saw! For though I was so close, I could not discern anything of
Jesus as he once had been; because his head was bowed forward even more
than before, and moreover there was an unwonted darkness over all the
place. The people were very still, nor was there now any more sound of
cursing or mocking; for of them that still remained round the cross some
were the friends of Jesus, and others had been greatly moved (so it was
told me afterwards) by the manner in which he had borne himself upon the
cross; insomuch that even the soldiers which kept guard mocked him no
more, but stood watching in silence. But I came forward to the furthest
that I might, and placed myself where haply he might see me; and I would
fain have called unto him; but I durst not, lest I should trouble him, for
he was very still. But when I was now come so close unto him that I might
almost discern his features in spite of the darkness, behold it was as if
a trembling ran through all his limbs, and he raised his head a little,
and a voice came forth, which, whoso heard, could not forget for ever: “My
God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” Then there was another cry
exceeding long and loud, and a second trembling running through all the
limbs even to the neck and face; and then a stiffness as of death.
Now up to the very last I had not given up all hope that Jesus might yet
come down from the cross, shewing forth some mighty work worthy of a
Messiah; nor did I indeed know how much hope I had had, till this moment
wherein all hope perished. But now, when I turned myself to go away from
the cross and to leave Jesus for ever, all things seemed ended, and I felt
as one alone in the world; yea, I knew not whether there were a God, or
whether I myself lived, or all life were not a dream. Thus I went forward,
as one in a trance; when on a sudden I heard the voice of Hezekiah the
Scribe: “Art thou not yet convinced of thy folly? Behold, it is written
that thou shouldest not put thy trust in any child of man. For when the
breath of man goeth forth, he shall turn again to his earth, and then all
his thoughts perish; even as this thy master, the false prophet, hath
perished. But blessed is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help, who
keepeth His promises for ever. But thy master, how keepeth he his
promises? Unless perchance,” and here he lowered his voice and looked
jealously at me, “unless (as is reported to us) ye Galileans hope to steal
his body from the grave and so to feign that he is risen; but that shall
not be. For though your patron Joseph of Arimathea may have his will to‐
day, yet will we take good order that we have our will to‐morrow. For the
body of a false prophet deserveth not honourable burial.”
I could endure his words no longer, but ran past him as one mad. But, when
I was now rid of his presence, passing back into the city by the western
gate, my mind ran on all such things as I had done with Jesus on the day
before, and my feet turned of themselves toward the house where we had
kept the Passover together. Thence, but still as one in a dream, scarce
knowing what I did, I bent my way towards the gate of the valley of
Kidron. Here I was musing how, but yesterday, in this very place, I had
walked by the side of Jesus, even at his right hand, and how the touch of
his arm had held me up in my stumbling; when behold, I started back as if
I had seen a spirit. For the voice of one close to me in the twilight
whispered with an hissing sound, “He is not dead.” I looked, and behold,
Judas stood before me. His face was pale and his eyes glared, and passion
so wrought his features that they moved and quivered, as if against his
will, like unto the features of one possessed by Satan. When I drew back
from him, at first he would have stayed me; but seeing that I loathed him,
he also drew back and said, “Nay, be not afraid, I cannot betray another.
But he is not dead. Hast thou not seen him?” I marvelled at him, but said
nothing, only shaking my head. Then Judas replied, “Think not that I have
slain him; he liveth: he hunteth me to death; these three times have I
seen him. I have not slain him. Why then doth he yet hunt me? But thou,
thou didst love him, be thou at peace with me.” Saying these words, he
came forward again to have taken me by the hand; but I could not. Then he
turned away and laughed such a laugh as I pray God I may never hear again.
But as he departed, he cried aloud, “Thou rememberest his words, ‘It were
better for him that he had never been born’: verily he was a prophet.”
Then he laughed again, even such another laugh as before; and he cursed
the God that had made him. With that he went his way, and I saw him no
more.
For a while I stood where I was, as if in a trance, almost expecting that
the words of Judas should prove true, and that Jesus should come forth to
me out of the air around me. Then I passed through the gate of Kidron;
and, crossing the brook, I began to go out by the way which leadeth to
Bethany. But ever as I went up the mountain, I pondered over the words of
Judas, “He is not dead, I have seen him:” for I could not forget them, nor
put them away from my mind. And behold, whithersoever I looked in the
twilight, all things bore witness unto Jesus and seemed to say the same
words, “We have seen him. He is not dead.” For if I looked back at the
city gates, then I remembered how Jesus had lately passed through them in
triumph; and if I looked on the road before me, then every tree and rock
seemed to testify that Jesus had but now been there again and again, in
his passing between Bethany and the city; and at one place he had spoken a
certain parable: at another, he had sat down and rested; or at a third, we
had asked him certain questions and he had answered them. Thus the whole
of the mountain and all things thereon seemed to cry aloud with one
consent, “He is not dead”; but my heart cried back again, “Nay, but he is
dead indeed.”
When at last I came in my wanderings nigh to the top of the mount, even to
the stone whereon Jesus had sat down in the midst of the disciples and had
prophesied of his coming, then could I no longer refrain myself; but I
threw myself on the ground in a passion of tears and sobbings, beating my
breast and rending my garments. And when I desired to cry unto the Lord in
my agony, behold, the words of Jesus on the cross came into my mouth; and
if I tried to fashion some other prayer, no other words would come to me,
but I could do naught but repeat them over and over again, crying unto the
Lord and saying, “Why hast Thou forsaken him? Why hast Thou forsaken him?”
So speaking, I scarce refrained from doing even as Judas had done, so as
to curse the day wherein I was born; and I became again as one distraught.
But after a time (but how long a time I know not) a darkness came down
upon mine eyes, and all things swam around me, and I fell to the ground as
one without life.
When I came to myself, behold, I lay upon my back and looked upward, and
the moon was shining high in the heavens above me. So I thought how the
same moon had shone down with the same brightness yesternight upon my
Master in Gethsemane. “And now where is he?” I ceased from that thought,
and went back in my mind to thoughts of the past. Then I remembered what a
splendour, even such as I now saw, had shone upon our Master’s face when
he came down from Mount Hermon, and when he came up from Jericho to
Bethany, and also when of late he gave us the bread and wine at our last
supper together. Also there came into my mind the words that he had
spoken, when this brightness had been upon his countenance: how he had
then prophesied, and more than once, that he should be slain; but we had
never believed him. Yet his words had come to pass. Then I asked within
myself how it was that Jesus had foreseen his own death and prophesied it
so oft, yet had never been dismayed nor even disturbed by the thought
thereof; and I remembered that whensoever he had spoken of his death, he
had spoken also of a certain rising again, or coming: and I said aloud,
“If Jesus prophesied his death truly, why might he not also prophesy truly
concerning his coming again?”
But against this hope there set themselves those last words which had come
from the mouth of Jesus on the cross, “My God, my God, why hast thou
forsaken me?” Now these words are the first words, and as it were the
prelude, of one of our psalms. So I began to repeat to myself the words of
the psalm; which beginneth with sadness, yea even from the depths of
sorrow, but these words follow afterwards: “I will declare thy name unto
my brethren: in the midst of the congregation will I praise thee. For he
hath not despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted; neither
hath he hid his face from him, but when he cried unto him he heard.” So I
wondered whether Jesus, in speaking those last words, had in his mind all
the words of the psalm, and “Perchance,” I said, “in saying the first
words, he signified (in his sore weakness when the breath was departing
from him) that he desired to say the whole; for the first words are but as
a title to the whole. Wherefore, perchance, beneath the sense of the
forsaking, there was a deeper sense that God did not despise the
affliction of the afflicted.” Then I mused again concerning the words of
the Psalm, and especially on these, “When he cried unto him, he heard.”
And I looked up to the moon and the stars in heaven, which are the work of
the hand of God, and I asked whether it was possible that the Maker of so
beautiful an order in heaven should suffer disorder to prevail upon the
earth; and my heart said that it could not prevail for ever. “Therefore,”
said I, “God must needs have heard Jesus of Nazareth when he cried unto
Him. Yea, though He seemed not to hear, yet must He have heard indeed.
Yea, even though Jesus be dead, yea, even though Jesus be not the Messiah,
yet surely the Lord must have heard Jesus; for not to have heard him,
would have been not to be God.”
Then rose I up and stood and stretched out my hands in prayer unto the
Lord with whom all things are possible, that He would shew forth His mercy
upon me; and behold, when I tried to pray, my lips would shape forth no
other prayer, but that He would bring back Jesus unto us, even though it
were for a moment of time, that we might look upon him and know that he
still lived. And at one moment I rebuked myself because the thing seemed
impossible; but the next moment that prayer rose up again, and no other.
But when I had prayed, I lay down again, for I was very weary; and because
I was now more at peace within myself, there came upon me a sweet sleep.
In my sleep I dreamed; and the Lord sent unto me a vision of the night,
whereof the former part was like unto the vision which I had had the night
before, but the latter part was different. For again, methought, I saw
Jesus standing on the top of a mountain in great glory; and albeit his
face was like the face of him that hath passed through much tribulation,
yet did the glory prevail over the sorrow, and he rejoiced as one
triumphing over Satan and Death. As I looked, methought Jesus was lifted
up in a chariot from the mountain towards the clouds, and angels
accompanied him as he rode upward; and a sound of solemn music came down
from above to greet him. The heavens opened, yea, even to the seventh
heaven, and there appeared the likeness of a throne on the right hand of
the Majesty on high; and ten thousands of thousands of saints were about
the throne, with palms in their hands, singing hosannas unto the Son of
David. But even as the chariot rose higher and higher, the music waxed
louder and fuller; till at the last, when the chariot was now nigh unto
the throne, behold all the harps in heaven rang out hosannas with such a
peal of praise as made me start out of my vision; and I awoke, and it was
a dream.