Crispus clenched the torch in his hand a little tighter. He didn't know what to expect--they were being led by a man who was a known associate of the one they were going to arrest. Sure, he had been paid handsomely for his promised betrayal, but who was to say they weren't walking into a trap? This man was stirring up people all over, and now even the Jewish leaders were against him. They said he was planning a revolution; what if it started with an ambush tonight?
He trusted his training, but he couldn't help the nerves that were making him jittery. The shiftiness of the man leading their way didn't help matters, and neither did the insistence that they go under cover of night. Did this man really have so many followers that it would be dangerous to take him during the day? And had he really heard the man right when he said he would greet his friend with a kiss? What kind of people were they dealing with that one would betray the other with a kiss of friendship?
The night was dark and cool as they neared the Garden of Gethsemane. He couldn't see the Mount of Olives, but it seemed to loom over them as they left the walls of the city behind. The only things breaking up the darkness were the lanterns he and the other soldiers carried. Crispus moved his free hand to the hilt of his sword, comforted by its presence at his hip. As they got closer, it seemed everyone's nerves were starting to get to them--swords were being drawn all around him. Crispus drew his, admiring the way the firelight danced on the blade.
They entered the garden and soon came across a small group of men, many of whom had swords strapped to their hips. This had to be them. If so, Crispus stood ready for the fight. One man stepped forward. "Rabbi," the betrayer said, stepping forward and kissing the man on the cheek.
"Who are you looking for?" he asked, but somehow Crispus got the feeling that he already knew the answer.
"Jesus of Nazareth," came the answer, though Crispus wasn't sure who had said it.
"I AM HE."
The voice was unlike anything Crispus had ever heard, and it seemed to make the entire world shake. Crispus found himself suddenly on the ground, struggling to keep the torch from getting snuffed out. He would have been embarrassed by his reaction had he been the only one to collapse under the weight of the man's words, but he looked around him at the entire group down in the dirt.
The man spoke again, his voice returning to normal. "Who is it that you're looking for?"
Crispus half expected everything to be over right there. Surely they would simply walk away and leave this man be--he obviously wasn't someone they wanted to mess around with. Again, though, someone answered with that same name. Crispus braced himself against whatever force had knocked him to the ground the first time, but it didn't come. Instead, the man spoke calmly.
"I told you I am He. Do what you came to do."
But then the moment Crispus had feared came to pass. One of the men pulled his sword and struck out. There was a scream as Malchus, the servant of the chief priest, fell to his knees clutching the side of his head. "They cut off his ear!" somebody said.
"‘Put your sword back in its place,’ Jesus said to him, ‘for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? But how then would the Scriptures be fulfilled that say it must happen in this way?’"
The Scriptures? What was this man talking about? Why would the Jews be here if this man was talking about fulfilling their Scriptures? And twelve legions? That was 72,000. Was this man calling up some sort of spiritual force? And if his words were enough to bring them all to their knees, why did he even need legions?
Crispus had to fight the urge to run away, especially as this man Jesus stepped forward. He knelt down beside Malchus and touched the side of his head. What was happening? Malchus stood up, his hand dropping to his side, revealing the side of his head--whole. Crispus was shaking now, but he wasn't alone in that. He could hear the armor of those around him and knew they were just as scared. The man they had come to arrest, the man who let his friend betray him with a kiss, the man who spoke and felled soldiers, had just healed a man who had come to arrest him.
And then there he was, stretching out his hands to be bound and led back into the city.
Who was this man?
***
This post is the first in a series of fictional accounts of the events surrounding Easter. Though I have taken some creative license, my goal is to stay true to the accounts found in the gospel.
He trusted his training, but he couldn't help the nerves that were making him jittery. The shiftiness of the man leading their way didn't help matters, and neither did the insistence that they go under cover of night. Did this man really have so many followers that it would be dangerous to take him during the day? And had he really heard the man right when he said he would greet his friend with a kiss? What kind of people were they dealing with that one would betray the other with a kiss of friendship?
The night was dark and cool as they neared the Garden of Gethsemane. He couldn't see the Mount of Olives, but it seemed to loom over them as they left the walls of the city behind. The only things breaking up the darkness were the lanterns he and the other soldiers carried. Crispus moved his free hand to the hilt of his sword, comforted by its presence at his hip. As they got closer, it seemed everyone's nerves were starting to get to them--swords were being drawn all around him. Crispus drew his, admiring the way the firelight danced on the blade.
They entered the garden and soon came across a small group of men, many of whom had swords strapped to their hips. This had to be them. If so, Crispus stood ready for the fight. One man stepped forward. "Rabbi," the betrayer said, stepping forward and kissing the man on the cheek.
"Who are you looking for?" he asked, but somehow Crispus got the feeling that he already knew the answer.
"Jesus of Nazareth," came the answer, though Crispus wasn't sure who had said it.
"I AM HE."
The voice was unlike anything Crispus had ever heard, and it seemed to make the entire world shake. Crispus found himself suddenly on the ground, struggling to keep the torch from getting snuffed out. He would have been embarrassed by his reaction had he been the only one to collapse under the weight of the man's words, but he looked around him at the entire group down in the dirt.
The man spoke again, his voice returning to normal. "Who is it that you're looking for?"
Crispus half expected everything to be over right there. Surely they would simply walk away and leave this man be--he obviously wasn't someone they wanted to mess around with. Again, though, someone answered with that same name. Crispus braced himself against whatever force had knocked him to the ground the first time, but it didn't come. Instead, the man spoke calmly.
"I told you I am He. Do what you came to do."
But then the moment Crispus had feared came to pass. One of the men pulled his sword and struck out. There was a scream as Malchus, the servant of the chief priest, fell to his knees clutching the side of his head. "They cut off his ear!" somebody said.
"‘Put your sword back in its place,’ Jesus said to him, ‘for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? But how then would the Scriptures be fulfilled that say it must happen in this way?’"
The Scriptures? What was this man talking about? Why would the Jews be here if this man was talking about fulfilling their Scriptures? And twelve legions? That was 72,000. Was this man calling up some sort of spiritual force? And if his words were enough to bring them all to their knees, why did he even need legions?
Crispus had to fight the urge to run away, especially as this man Jesus stepped forward. He knelt down beside Malchus and touched the side of his head. What was happening? Malchus stood up, his hand dropping to his side, revealing the side of his head--whole. Crispus was shaking now, but he wasn't alone in that. He could hear the armor of those around him and knew they were just as scared. The man they had come to arrest, the man who let his friend betray him with a kiss, the man who spoke and felled soldiers, had just healed a man who had come to arrest him.
And then there he was, stretching out his hands to be bound and led back into the city.
Who was this man?
***
This post is the first in a series of fictional accounts of the events surrounding Easter. Though I have taken some creative license, my goal is to stay true to the accounts found in the gospel.
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~Mandy