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He wasn't what you'd expect a Messiah to be like-He certainly wasn't what I'd expected a Messiah to be like. It was the fact that he was so ... I have to say ... ordinary that took people off their guard. When you've been brought up with the idea of the Messiah being someone who is going to save his people, you do tend to expect a warrior-type ... and that certainly wasn't his way-He was just so good at putting people at their ease. He didn't blind them with theology or confuse them with long words ... he would tell stories and people would suddenly see things differently. Admittedly there were some that didn't but as he used to say, "There's none so blind as them that don't want to see!" He wasn't very good at being respectful ... maybe that was part of his downfall. I know he was good at rubbing some people up the wrong way... and he didn't mince his words! If you didn't know him, you could really take offence... I remember he came to our house once ... not that long ago actually...and, as usual, he brought half of Judea with him ... So there I was, trying to stretch the food ... borrowing bits from the neighbours and so on ... and there he is ... sitting with my sister at his feet and all his beloved followers sitting listening and hanging on to every word. So I walked in with a plate full of food and asked for a bit of help ... I said I quite understood his need to discuss Eternal Verities with his followers ... but there were a few Earthly Verities to be dealt with ... like food ... and drink ... and could he possibly spare at least my sister to come and help me deal with those. Well, you could hear a pin drop! Then he folded his arms and looked at me in that way he had .... "Martha", he said, "You are always getting into a state about this. Just sit and talk to me ... that's all I want. Look at Mary ... she's quite happy. Now why don't you just... calm .. down ..dear!" And you could feel the smug satisfaction from all the men there ... see how he's put that uppity woman in her place. But they didn't know him as well as I did. I walked over to him and put the plate of bread on his lap..."There you are," I said, "you deal with that while I get the wine" To say they were shocked would be an understatement ... but he just looked at me, looked at the bread and then he laughed. "You win ... enough of words ... let's eat" and, so saying, he got up and distributed the bread ... and when he'd done that, I gave him the pitcher... "You can do the wine too". I had to smile as I watched him going around filling cups ... he was so happy but some of those followers were a bit nonplussed to have their Master serving their bread and wine ... not quite what they expected of their Messiah. When we were talking later, I mentioned this and he said that he'd noticed it too and that he wondered how he was going to convince them that his message wasn't just words ... that they had to be prepared to love and to serve too. "You mean like preparing meals for them? I said. "Something like that," he said, "Something they can really get their hands on ... a meal ... yes, a meal"....So I wasn't altogether surprised when he insisted on all those arrangements for the Passover meal. It was different then, though. When he washed our feet and when he broke the bread and gave us the wine...it wasn't like before. This time it felt ... almost like desperation ... as if he was saying..."I haven't much more time ... I can't tell you any more ... but look and feel the power of my love in practice ... understand what I am doing".He knew he was going to be arrested ... I think most of us did. What we didn't expect was that our leaders ... such as they are ... to resort to mock-trials and hand him over to the Romans. It was all worked out ... they wanted him dead ... and obviously didn't care how they did it.What really got me was that they took him when he was praying in the garden ... and all those followers of his . .. where were they? Oh yes, Peter lashes out with his sword ... but what was really needed was some sensible action ... getting all his supporters together ... not all the Pharisees were against him ... surely somebody could have organised his defence ... but no ... they hadn't a clue how to do anything ... words fine ... action useless....I knew that eventually they would have to take him to Pilate ... If they were determined to have him executed it would have to be Pilate who gave his permission. The crowd was huge ... but here and there among them I saw the rabble-rousers ... stirring the crowd up ... I looked for his friends ... they were there dotted about but they all refused to catch my eye. Then they brought him out.I couldn't believe what I saw. Yesterday, he was a fit, vibrant young man ... now he was bruised and broken ... and I knew then that there was no way he was going to be set free ... If he was lucky it might be prison ... But then the whispering started ... and the whispering grew and the first cry of "Crucify him" went up... Suddenly from all parts of the crowd people were demanding his death ...and I knew ... He looked up and my heart broke for him ... what could I do? Then Pilate came out with a bowl of water ... I couldn't work out why ... and then I realised what he was saying ... this man is innocent ... I wash my hands of his blood. The coward knew ... but he was prepared to let an innocent man be killed ... murdered ... I was so angry and began shouting back... "Save him" ... but, of course, my voice was drowned out ...A soldier watching the crowd pushed his way over to me ... "You'd best go ... this lot are capable of anything in this mood... you won't be safe if they find out you're one of his followers." "I don't care," I shouted back, "I can't leave him alone ... I want him to know somebody had the guts to stay with him". The soldier looked up at the broken man ... "There's nothing you can do for him here ... he'll know you tried. Go home ... there's nothing you can do..." He led me through the crowd who by now were almost hysterical. I found myself out in the street ... I couldn't go home ... I couldn't abandon him ... but the soldier was right ... that there wasn't anything I could to to save him. That was the blackest moment ... that was the time I nearly gave up. I walked away, fighting back tears ... and fighting my way through the crowds that were beginning to throng the streets ... bad news travelled fast. Everyone wanted to see the prophet getting his come-uppance ... and here was I abandoning him to the gathering vultures.... But what else could I do ... If the priests and the king and the Roman governor and the mob and the soldiers were set on his execution, there was nothing I as a lone woman could do to stop it. As I walked, I began to face the inevitable fact ... he really was going to die. It was the most horrible feeling ... but from it came the understanding of the one thing I could still do for him. I took a deep breath and pulled myself together. I made a mental list of all the things I would need... I hurried from house to shop to market-stall ... always choosing those of friends and of people who knew and loved the Master. Everywhere I was met with disbelief ... followed by horror ... and, at the end ... after I had got across to them how little time we had ... a desperate eagerness to do what they could to help ... Several left their homes and closed their shops and ran to the route we knew he would have to take to Golgotha... They carried cloths and jugs of water in the hope that they would get close enough to give them to him... The last call I made was to Joseph... of Arimathea. He had been up all night and looked grey and exhausted. I felt sorry for him ... I guessed he had been trying to save the Master ... and his failure weighed so heavily on him ... I told him of my own plan and, despite his own tiredness, he promised to go to Pilate and see what he could do. The day was drawing on ... I would have to hurry ... with Passover the next day, the Romans wouldn't waste any time ... the Master would have to be ... would have to be ... dead ... by the evening. On the way to Golgotha, I was joined by other women... They had seen the macabre procession ... and told us of the horror of what they had seen. We all wanted to turn back ... but encouraged each other to carry on ... we could face it ... we really could ... if we were together... Our resolve took a severe blow as we heard the voice of the Master crying out in anguished despair..."My God, my God...why have you abandoned me?" My heart almost fainted within me ... and I thought ... I might even have cried out... "God might have done ... but we have not"...And then I saw him ... I had known what crucifixion involved ... but to see him ... to see him crucified... He wasn't moving any more. The soldiers below him were looking at him ... trying to decide whether he was dead. One of them picked up a spear and stabbed the Master's side ... and out came blood and water ... By then, I was angry ... too angry to be frightened any more ... "Leave him alone ... he's dead ... Can't you tell ? Can't you see?"The soldiers looked at me and laughed ... "He's done alright...not much fight in this one, was there?" "He was a real man . ..you have no idea what you have done..."One of the soldiers came over to me... I expected him to push me aside or send me away... Then I recognised him ... he'd been in Pilate's courtyard and had sent me out to safety..."Your tongue will get you into trouble... Be quiet now and you'll be able to do what you're planning... Carry on and they'll send you away ...and he'll end up on the pits of Gehenna... And you're wrong ... some of us do know what we have done... I believe that your Master ... I think he was the Son of God... How am I going to live with that? ... Knowing I killed him..." He walked back to the cross ... "We can get him down now..." I gritted my teeth and fought to stay in control as the nails were pulled out of his hands and his feet... "They cannot hurt him now ... they cannot hurt him now..."And at last he was down ... and the soldier laid him in the arms of his mother. He caught my eye ... and then turned away ... ashamed of having tears in his eyes as he watched the mother cradle her son as she had done all those years ago when he had fallen over and hurt his knee... There was no kissing this better though...I let a few minutes pass and then spoke gently to the women who were weeping over him... "It's getting close to nightfall... we must prepare him..""But what are we to do... we have no tomb here...""I've taken care of that ... Joseph of Arimathea has promised to help ... and I've brought water and cloths and burial spices ... and here, fine white linen to wrap him in... Come on, my dear, let's make your boy... let's make him look more comfortable..." And so we did . .. There were many tears shed, naturally, but at the end we gazed down at his face ... peaceful at last...Joseph had been as good as his word. Not only had he persuaded Pilate to let him have the Master's body, he told his mother that the Master could be laid to rest in Joseph's own tomb ... freshly prepared... When he had been laid in the tomb ... and his mother had placed the cloth over his face ... I wished him peace ... and committed him to Abba, our Father... As we walked away, I looked back ... Suddenly into my mind came a memory of something he'd said when he had brought Lazarus back to us... Could I dare to believe what he'd said? ... Did it mean what I was beginning to think it meant... |