Centurion
“I have always been proud of my Roman heritage and like all the men in my family; it has been my honor to serve in the army of the emperor. Though I will admit that I wasn’t pleased when they told me that I was being sent to the land of the Hebrews, a good soldier knows better than to question his orders. When I first arrived, it was hard not to view these Israelites as little more than superstitious peasants; but in my years of living amongst them, I’ve come to see them as something more. Though their religious rituals, like the constant slaughter of animals, seem strange to me, I have witnessed firsthand the hope that seems to spring from their belief that their God not only loves them, but that He will one day deliver them from all oppression. It is a hope that I found myself yearning to find.”
“I first heard about this man Jesus of Nazareth, from some of the other soldiers in my garrison. They said that he was trouble and someone we needed to watch carefully. So I made it a point to seek him out and to know who he was. But the more I watched him, the more confused I became. After all, Jerusalem is filled with wild eyed revolutionaries and men who simply crave power, but this man didn’t appear to be either of those. The people seemed to be drawn to him and if I’m honest, I felt drawn to him too. In fact, the only people who truly appeared to be threatened by him were the Jewish religious leaders; and they seemed to hate him. From what I could see, they feared the influence he was having with the people. When I got the chance, I tried to get close enough to hear him speak and in those times I marveled at his words. Even though I cannot claim to have understood the things he was saying, he spoke with great authority and wisdom. Sometimes he would be telling stories and other times his words sounded almost like poetry. I know that there were moments when he was aware that I was listening and yet he looked at me in a way that let me know that it was alright.”
“I knew better than to discuss this with anyone, so I simply remained silent when I heard my fellow soldiers tell their slanderous tales of him; just as I held my tongue in the marketplace, when I’d hear the people speaking of his miraculous deeds. Soon, they were saying that he was their promised “Messiah” and that word seemed to set their religious leaders aflame with jealousy. Some of them seemed to think that he was simply a man sent by their God, while others claimed that he was the “Son of God”. As a Roman, I could relate to this debate, as most thought Caesar’s authority came from god, while others claimed that he was a god. Though I would never have said it aloud, I felt certain that the emperor was not a god; but this man Jesus was someone I wanted to believe in. I certainly didn’t know the answer, but I will say that he was unlike any man I’d ever known before.”
“With the feast the Jews call, ‘Passover’ approaching, I could tell that Jerusalem was ready to erupt; as the followers of Jesus met him on the outskirts of the city. Their loud adoration of him once again stirred the insecurities of their Hebrew leaders. Later that day, there were reports of a disturbance at the temple and claims that Jesus had been turning over the tables of the moneychangers. I found that a little hard to believe, but a short time later, several of us were dispatched to Governor Pilate’s residence, where we found him standing before the governor in chains. It seems that Caiaphas, the High Priest, had incited a mob to accuse Jesus of some type of treason, but I could tell that the governor wanted no part of their religious war. Though I couldn’t hear everything that was being said, I saw something in Pilate’s eyes that I’d never seen before; ‘fear’. As I watched Jesus stand calmly in the midst of these angry voices, I couldn’t help but wonder where all of his zealous followers had gone.”
“When the governor managed to disburse the crowd, by sending them to Herod, I hoped that things might calm down; but later I heard that the mob had returned and of the flogging that Jesus eventually received at the hands of my brethren. I suppose that I ought to have been grateful that I was not assigned to that detail, but as we marched toward Golgotha, I wondered if it wouldn’t have been preferable to what we were about to do.”
“In my years as a soldier, I had been a part of many crucifixions, but never of a man who seemed so utterly innocent. When we got to the top of the hill, I could barely recognize his mangled visage and as I manned a rope to hoist his cross into place, our eyes once again met. Though I expected to see agony and anger and maybe even hatred, I saw the same eyes that I’d seen as I watched him teach in the marketplace. Now, as then, they were somehow telling me that it was alright. But how could that be? How could anyone endure what he’d already been through? How could anyone endure what he was going through at that moment? Something inside me ripped, as I heard him pray, ‘Father, forgive them; they know not what they do’. Though others were taunting him and spitting on him, I found myself paralyzed by the fear that we were making a terrible mistake. As others pushed forward to torment him, I was shoved off to the side, where I stood in a stupor. In what seemed to be a short time later, the last bit of life drained out of him and as he breathed his last, the skies turned black and the earth began to shake violently. Though most of the other centurions ran down the hill in terror, I found myself unable to move and in that moment I uttered the only words that seemed to be true, ‘Surely this was the son of God’.”
Thomas
“When I think back on all the things he taught us, I realize that he had been trying to prepare us for a long time. He told us that he was going to be betrayed; he said that he would be handed over and put to death; yet somehow we all convinced ourselves that he was really saying something else. He had so often spoken in parables and in ways that were mysterious to us, that we failed to grasp the weight of his clear warning. Of course, a lifetime of hearing other people’s ideas about the coming of the Messiah, certainly helped add to our confusion. He kept saying that his kingdom was not of this world and yet we all kept expecting him to rise up and end Caesar’s reign. We didn’t understand that he came to deliver us from a far greater oppression.”
“Some of us have been chastened more publically than others, but none of us can boast of our bold faith in the Master’s darkest hours. Just like the time Peter tried to walk on the water, it has been easy for us to point out our brother’s weakness, in the hopes that it will draw attention away from our own. The ugly truth of that day was that eleven of us sat cowering in the back of the boat and on the night they came for our Lord, all of us again retreated in fear.”
“Those failures have rightfully called into question the depths of our belief, but I can promise that no one who knew Jesus intimately could doubt who he was. It wasn’t simply the signs and wonders, or his amazing wisdom, it was his very being. Peter could never have stepped out of the boat without a genuine faith in Jesus, but staring into the storm can have a powerful effect on a man. Even men of great faith, like the desert prophet John, who so boldly proclaimed who Jesus was, can waiver in the face of discouragement and disappointment. It is not as though ones faith abandons them in such moments; it is more like it becomes submerged in a sea of doubt. I remember Jesus once asking a man if he truly ‘believed’ and while the man affirmed that he did, he went on to ask the Lord to help him with his unbelief. Like him, we also believed, but we needed the Lord’s help and as near as we could tell, he was gone. Outside of his presence, our eyes became fixed on the rising storm and each of us began to sink.”
“Many have spoken of my ‘doubt’, but truthfully we were all wrestling with our doubts at that moment. From the night that they first seized Jesus in the garden, people were coming to us, asking questions we could not answer and telling us stories we could not believe. At first, we were just avoiding the High Priest and the soldiers, but soon we were hiding from everyone. We locked ourselves away for hours; wondering, waiting and worrying. For days we scarcely left the same little room; so it shouldn’t be hard to imagine my dismay at hearing people claim that Jesus had visited in the short time that I’d been away. It just sounded like another outrageous story and I was already worn down by all of it. When I said that I would need to see the nail marks in his hands, I was simply trying to say that I was unwilling to listen to anymore stories; but I never really considered how those words might sound as I stood before the Lord.”
“On the day he appeared to us, he invited me to touch his hands; but there was no need for further proof. In his presence, it was impossible to doubt and I fell to my knees and cried out, ‘My Lord and my God’. Though I was ashamed of my foolish words and of my poor faith, I was overcome with the joy that accompanies his nearness. In that moment, I realized that being close to him was all that I really wanted. After a lifetime of seeking knowledge and understanding, I found myself to be like a little child, who simply yearns to be in the presence of his loving father. The days that followed his appearing were filled with wonder and our hearts ached when he finally ascended to his heavenly throne. But just as he promised, our joy was made complete at Pentecost, when his precious Spirit came and abided within each one of us. It was the fulfillment of His vow to never leave us nor forsake us. Though I have encountered many troubles in the days since then, there is one thing I can promise; I have never doubted again.”
Mary
“In the days leading up to the Passover feast, I could sense that Jesus was troubled. He seemed to be spending more time alone, or with just the twelve, than with all of us gathered together. Even when he did come near to us, he seemed unusually quiet and maybe even distracted. Those times were difficult for me; because I cherished every moment that I was able to spend in his presence. From the time that he first found me, and drove away the spirits that had tormented me since childhood, there was no other place that I desired to be. In his midst, I felt safe and at peace and filled with hope.”
“I remember gathering with the crowd, along the road from Bethany; as he and the twelve made their way toward Jerusalem. Even though we were outside the city, there was a group of Pharisee’s watching from nearby; as they always seemed to be, when they thought Jesus might be coming. Many of the brethren grabbed palm branches and we all boldly praised the Lord as he made his way along the path. I was hoping that the love and adoration of his followers might please him; but he almost looked sad as he passed by us. That night, I heard the story of his angry outburst at the temple and I began to worry that something was wrong.”
“Many of us hoped that we’d all come together for the Passover meal and were sad to hear that he’d once again dine without us; but it was something we women were accustomed to. That disappointment was small when compared to our anxiety upon hearing that he’d been seized at the Garden of Gethsemane. Though Jesus had told us that he was going to have to suffer much, I think that most of us looked past those words toward the hopeful picture of eternity. At first, we tried to convince each other that he would somehow avoid the trap of the Pharisees, as he’d done so many times before; but soon it was clear that this time would be different.”
“In some ways it was worse for the twelve, because they were afraid to be seen on the streets. It was one of the few times that I was actually glad to be a woman; as we were practically invisible to everyone around us. This allowed us to see the High Priest falsely accuse him before Pilate and to hear the crowd roar their approval when Barabbas was released. But our anger quickly turned to terror, when the Romans began to beat him savagely. Something inside of me wanted to flee from that horrific scene, but something stronger told me that he shouldn’t be left alone in the company of those who despised him; and that though we could not stop it, we needed to be witnesses to all that went on there. So I stayed and I wept and I felt my hope slip away with every lash. I could not understand how something so clearly evil could triumph over something that was so obviously pure; and I began to sink into an abyss of despair. I wanted to be strong for Mary, his mother and I tried desperately to remember the words he’d taught us; but I felt as though the very life was being pulled from my body. Together, his mother and I stumbled down the streets, as they paraded him toward the accursed hill.”
“As we came to the place of the skull, we were joined by John; and when Mary saw him, she collapsed into his arms. Though he steadied her, he also seemed stricken by the sight of the Lord. We all cried out in anguish as they drove the nails into his hands & feet, but grew quieter when Jesus spoke to Mary and John from the cross. I felt completely helpless and hopeless in the hours he hung there dying; and had grown numb by the time he’d breathed his last. As the sky turned black and the earth shook beneath our feet, it was only the fleeing of the Romans that let me know that this was real to anyone other than me. For the first time since I’d come to know the Lord, I felt utterly alone.”
“The hours and days that followed were a torment. Though many of us were huddled together, we took little comfort in each other. In those rare moments when exhaustion would give way to sleep, visions of the Lord’s mangled body would intrude upon my dreams. When I was awake, waves of fear and abandonment would sweep over me. Mary and I tried to busy ourselves with preparations for Jesus burial and before the dawn, on the first day of the week, we headed to the place where they said he had been laid.”
“Finding the empty tomb was yet another heartbreak; as I yearned to be close to anything that might remind me of his presence. After the frenzied rush to show Peter and John what we had discovered, I found myself sitting alone and weeping, near the tomb. My eyes were still blurry with tears when I first saw the angels, standing in the place where the Lord’s body had been. At first, I was confused, then I was frightened; but then their joyous proclamation that He was “alive” caused my heart to leap within me. As they reminded me of the words he had spoken about his death and resurrection, I could feel the hope seeping back into my soul.”
“I was excited to tell the brethren all that I’d seen and heard, but before I could take my leave, yet another voice spoke and I saw a man standing before me. At first, I could not tell who he was, but then he called my name. ‘Mary’, he said and I knew it was my Lord. As I looked upon him, he was not bloodied or disfigured; and he seemed to glow, as the angels had. Without thinking, I lunged to embrace him, but he stopped me and told me that it was too soon. Looking into his beautiful eyes made me feel as though I’d been reborn and it was almost more than I could bear. When he told me to go and tell the others, I did not want to leave him; but he smiled at me and promised that he would return quickly. As I ran and skipped and danced my way down the path, I could not resist the urge to almost sing, ‘He’s Alive!’, ‘He’s Alive!’ over and over again.”
“When I came to the place where the twelve were staying, I burst through the door in jubilation. They seemed almost irritated at my impertinence and they shook their heads in disbelief, as I breathlessly told my story. Only Peter and John seemed to lend any credence to the words I said and even their eyes were filled with doubt. Some claimed that I was delirious with grief, while others muttered about the fact that I was ‘just a woman’, but I could not be discouraged; as I continued my chant, ‘He’s Alive!, He’s Alive!’. None of them bothered to apologize to me when the Lord later appeared to them, but even then my joy was too strong and full to be penetrated. Though the days before his ascension were wondrous, it was the infilling of his Spirit, on the day of Pentecost, that finally made me whole. On that day, the void within me was filled to overflowing and I have never felt alone again. In him I live and move and have my being; and he is with me always! Hallelujah!”
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