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He came into a world of darkness, entangled with evil, ensnared in wickedness. A time when his zealous follower’s orthodox lifestyle was shattered, and the void holes were filled with his love and grace.
In his 33 years of life he knew much about being degraded, and suffering was his companion, yet he showed no malice. He was a man I loved wholly and it was as if our blood was intertwined and ran through our veins from a common source. Though, my love ran deeper than brotherly affection. He was my teacher, and a person I would have faced death for.
One evening, as the sun gave way to the night sky, Jesus walked through the Garden of Olives, with his other followers and I close behind. When we stopped walking, he said to us meekly “Sit here while I go over there and pray”. He knew the hour was near. He took Peter, James and me with him, and his face was a mirror of the anguish in his heart. “ My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.” His sorrow gnawed away at my soul and I was unable to find consolation.
As we walked a few more yards, he fell to the ground and in an anguished cry he called out to God, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will” My understanding was obscure. Questions ripped through my sullen mind as I delved into the veritable, deep-rooted pangs of fear in my heart. I knew things were despairingly wrong.
As we went back to the others, we found they had fallen fast asleep under a tree. "Could you men not keep watch with me for one hour?" Jesus asked Peter. "Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak." The tired men had not known that these were the final hours of Jesus’ life, and soon fell back asleep. It would become the singular moment in their lives they would regret most.
When he had finished praying earnestly for the third time, he saw a mob of men coming toward him. His breathing was short and irregular and his face grew pale. “Look, the hour is near, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us go! Here comes my betrayer!" In the distance I could see torches raised in the air, approaching rapidly. The large, unruly crowd, (composed of soldiers and officials from the chief priests and Pharisees) was armed with weapons and clubs, as if they intended to viciously bludgeon the Son of God.
Jesus addressed the crowd. “Who is it you want?”
“Jesus of Nazarene,” They replied. A familiar face stepped out of the crowd, smilingly furtively.
“Greetings Rabbi!” the betrayer, Judas, said. I noticed a large pouch of silver shillings hanging from his belt. He came and kissed Jesus on the cheek. Jesus replied “Friend do what you came for.” Suddenly the men in the crowd came forward and seized Jesus. At that moment, the consistent cadence of sorrow that engulfed my spirit altered with the blink of an eye…or with the kiss of a cheek. My grief was no longer comparable to a flowing rivulet of steady grief, but it had grown akin to the crashing waves of the ocean’s fiercest tempest.
I clenched my teeth and watched through hate-filled eyes as Jesus reply calmly to the crowd "Am I leading a rebellion, that you have come out with swords and clubs to capture me? Every day I sat in the temple courts teaching, and you did not arrest me. But this has all taken place that the writings of the prophets might be fulfilled." When Jesus stepped toward the assembly, the brutes sprang forward and seized him in the most unwarranted, unruly manner.
Suddenly, Simon Peter clutched his sword and swung forcefully at the head of a servant of the High Priest. He succeeded in cutting off the man’s right ear, and blood trickled from the wound. “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?" Jesus at once healed the man (who was named Malchus) and his ear was without even the slightest scar.
The other disciples fled in distress, and only Peter and I were left to watch with tear-blurred vision, as our beloved Messiah was dragged away by the very people who dwelt in the sin he conquered.