There was a knock at the door, waking Lydia from an exhausted sleep. It was Passover, and everyone had been there for the family seder. Lydia had been helping her motheronly fallen into bed a couple hours before the frantic knock.
"Have you heard? They've arrested someone." It was Elias at the door, obviously in a hurry. "The chief priests are taking someone to Annas."
Blinking, Lydia tried to wrap her mind around what she was being told. Annas? Who would they be taking to him at this hour? This must be someone terribly dangerous. She pulled her wrap off of the hook by the door and hung it across her shoulders. "Abba, I'll go; I'll stay close to Elias, so you don't have to worry."
"Be safe," her father said, and Lydia was out the door.
There was already a crowd forming, people slipping out of their houses in the dark to make their way towards the home of Annas, the father-in-law of Caiaphas. She couldn't see Elias, but Lydia knew the crowd would all be headed in the same direction. If someone had been arrested this late at night, and during Passover, no less, he must be a threat to all of Israel.
The crowd was milling around, voices hushed and strained. No one seemed to know what was happening or who had been arrested. It wasn't long before there was a shout of, "They're coming!" Pretty soon the night was filled with the sounds of marching as a detachment of Roman soldiers came toward them. The people drew back, anxious to see who had been arrested but fearful of getting in the way. As the group grew closer, Lydia could make out the garments of the chief priests and the Pharisees. What is happening? she thought. Who could cause such a commotion that they would bring these groups together in opposition?
She strained to see who the criminal was at the center of this group, making herself as small as possible so she could press her way through the crowd to get a better view. The soldiers ignored the people gathered around, except when they pushed someone out of the way. They formed a mass around the prisoner, making it hard for Lydia to see who they were taking to stand before Annas.
But then, she got a glimpse. He didn't look like anyone of consequence; just a man, walking along humbly, bound and pulled along by the soldiers. Lydia was confused--this man didn't look dangerous. In fact, he looked familiar. It took her a minute to place him, out of context like this, and when she recognized him she thought she must be wrong. This was the man who had ridden into the city just a week ago, wasn't it? When people had been shouting "Hosanna!" and saying that he had brought people back from the dead? What in the world could he have done?
The crowd pressed forward, but soon the soldiers, priests, and Pharisees disappeared into the courtyard. Lydia moved up close to the gate, peering inside. There were servants milling about inside, warming themselves next to fires, which only served to remind Lydia that her wrap wasn't really warm enough for being out in the middle of the night. She knelt down at the base of the wall, hoping it would give her some shelter from the wind and some glimpse of what was happening inside. That's when she noticed a man standing close by. He had been following the group but had been closed outside when the soldiers had gone in. Now he stood there, a wild and lost look on his face, staring after those who had gone inside. A servant girl was pulled aside by one of the men in the group, and soon she had made her way back to the gate.
"Aren't you one of that man's disciples?" she said to the man at the gate.
Lydia watched, curious, as the man seemed to struggle with an answer. Finally, though his eyes betrayed what he said, the man spoke up. "No, you must be mistaken."
The girl looked at him with a frown, then shrugged and let him into the courtyard. Lydia watched him move up to warm himself by the fire and heard another servant point him out.
"Ask him--that man came in with the Nazarene," she said, motioning to the man who seemed to be trying to disappear.
This time, the man swore an oath that Lydia knew her father would be upset she had heard and said, "I don't even know the man!" He moved away from the fire, despite the cold of the predawn morning.
The shadows danced on the man's face, but Lydia could have sworn she saw him blinking away tears. If he didn't want to be associated with the man they had arrested, why follow him to the high priest's doorstep? Why not just fade into the night with everyone else?
The servants crowded around the fire weren't giving up, though. They didn't seem to know what was going on either, and they were somehow convinced that this man could tell them something. A couple of them moved over toward the man, almost surrounding him. They were close to her, and Lydia could hear them plainly.
"Don't lie to us; we've heard you talk and we know you're one of those men from Galilee. You've got the accent, and you wouldn't be here unless you were one of the ones following that man."
This time, Lydia could hardly believe her ears. The man started yelling and cursing and was practically spitting out the words, "I have no idea what you're talking about. I have no idea who that man even is!"
Then he froze. The other men drifted away, but he didn't even seem to notice. Instead, he was staring across the courtyard. Lydia followed his gaze, curious about what had caught his attention so completely.
It was that man, looking out from inside, gazing out across the courtyard. His gaze locked with that of the man standing before her, and Lydia was captivated. There was such a mix of emotions obvious even from across the courtyard that Lydia felt like her own heart would break. It was pain, sorrow, and love mingled in such a way as she had never seen.
The man turned. blinded by his tears now, and pushed his way out of the gate and into the street. He ran a few steps then collapsed, weeping bitterly.
Lydia wanted to comfort the man, but then they might think she was with the prisoner, too. Instead, her eyes drifted back to what was happening inside. She saw a blindfold placed on the prisoner, then flinched and turned away when she saw a fist fly out and connect with the side of the man's face. Tears filled her own eyes as she returned home, contemplating the events of the night.
***
This post is the second in a series of fictional accounts of the events surrounding Easter. The first can be found here.Though I have taken some creative license, my goal is to stay true to the accounts found in the gospel.
"Have you heard? They've arrested someone." It was Elias at the door, obviously in a hurry. "The chief priests are taking someone to Annas."
Blinking, Lydia tried to wrap her mind around what she was being told. Annas? Who would they be taking to him at this hour? This must be someone terribly dangerous. She pulled her wrap off of the hook by the door and hung it across her shoulders. "Abba, I'll go; I'll stay close to Elias, so you don't have to worry."
"Be safe," her father said, and Lydia was out the door.
There was already a crowd forming, people slipping out of their houses in the dark to make their way towards the home of Annas, the father-in-law of Caiaphas. She couldn't see Elias, but Lydia knew the crowd would all be headed in the same direction. If someone had been arrested this late at night, and during Passover, no less, he must be a threat to all of Israel.
The crowd was milling around, voices hushed and strained. No one seemed to know what was happening or who had been arrested. It wasn't long before there was a shout of, "They're coming!" Pretty soon the night was filled with the sounds of marching as a detachment of Roman soldiers came toward them. The people drew back, anxious to see who had been arrested but fearful of getting in the way. As the group grew closer, Lydia could make out the garments of the chief priests and the Pharisees. What is happening? she thought. Who could cause such a commotion that they would bring these groups together in opposition?
She strained to see who the criminal was at the center of this group, making herself as small as possible so she could press her way through the crowd to get a better view. The soldiers ignored the people gathered around, except when they pushed someone out of the way. They formed a mass around the prisoner, making it hard for Lydia to see who they were taking to stand before Annas.
But then, she got a glimpse. He didn't look like anyone of consequence; just a man, walking along humbly, bound and pulled along by the soldiers. Lydia was confused--this man didn't look dangerous. In fact, he looked familiar. It took her a minute to place him, out of context like this, and when she recognized him she thought she must be wrong. This was the man who had ridden into the city just a week ago, wasn't it? When people had been shouting "Hosanna!" and saying that he had brought people back from the dead? What in the world could he have done?
The crowd pressed forward, but soon the soldiers, priests, and Pharisees disappeared into the courtyard. Lydia moved up close to the gate, peering inside. There were servants milling about inside, warming themselves next to fires, which only served to remind Lydia that her wrap wasn't really warm enough for being out in the middle of the night. She knelt down at the base of the wall, hoping it would give her some shelter from the wind and some glimpse of what was happening inside. That's when she noticed a man standing close by. He had been following the group but had been closed outside when the soldiers had gone in. Now he stood there, a wild and lost look on his face, staring after those who had gone inside. A servant girl was pulled aside by one of the men in the group, and soon she had made her way back to the gate.
"Aren't you one of that man's disciples?" she said to the man at the gate.
Lydia watched, curious, as the man seemed to struggle with an answer. Finally, though his eyes betrayed what he said, the man spoke up. "No, you must be mistaken."
The girl looked at him with a frown, then shrugged and let him into the courtyard. Lydia watched him move up to warm himself by the fire and heard another servant point him out.
"Ask him--that man came in with the Nazarene," she said, motioning to the man who seemed to be trying to disappear.
This time, the man swore an oath that Lydia knew her father would be upset she had heard and said, "I don't even know the man!" He moved away from the fire, despite the cold of the predawn morning.
The shadows danced on the man's face, but Lydia could have sworn she saw him blinking away tears. If he didn't want to be associated with the man they had arrested, why follow him to the high priest's doorstep? Why not just fade into the night with everyone else?
The servants crowded around the fire weren't giving up, though. They didn't seem to know what was going on either, and they were somehow convinced that this man could tell them something. A couple of them moved over toward the man, almost surrounding him. They were close to her, and Lydia could hear them plainly.
"Don't lie to us; we've heard you talk and we know you're one of those men from Galilee. You've got the accent, and you wouldn't be here unless you were one of the ones following that man."
This time, Lydia could hardly believe her ears. The man started yelling and cursing and was practically spitting out the words, "I have no idea what you're talking about. I have no idea who that man even is!"
Then he froze. The other men drifted away, but he didn't even seem to notice. Instead, he was staring across the courtyard. Lydia followed his gaze, curious about what had caught his attention so completely.
It was that man, looking out from inside, gazing out across the courtyard. His gaze locked with that of the man standing before her, and Lydia was captivated. There was such a mix of emotions obvious even from across the courtyard that Lydia felt like her own heart would break. It was pain, sorrow, and love mingled in such a way as she had never seen.
The man turned. blinded by his tears now, and pushed his way out of the gate and into the street. He ran a few steps then collapsed, weeping bitterly.
Lydia wanted to comfort the man, but then they might think she was with the prisoner, too. Instead, her eyes drifted back to what was happening inside. She saw a blindfold placed on the prisoner, then flinched and turned away when she saw a fist fly out and connect with the side of the man's face. Tears filled her own eyes as she returned home, contemplating the events of the night.
***
This post is the second in a series of fictional accounts of the events surrounding Easter. The first can be found here.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