Philochristus

Against this, Xanthias urgeth (and methinks not without shew of reason) that the scrip and purse whereof Jesus made mention in Galilee were not invisible things, but visible: but, if they were visible, so also must the sword needs be, whereof Jesus made mention in the same saying. But Quartus replieth that when Jesus, being still with us in the flesh, sent the disciples forth in Galilee without purse and scrip, he would have them to go forth not only without visible purse and scrip (which indeed they did), but also without the spirit of the purse and the spirit of the scrip, that is to say without forethought and provision, the better to awaken them to whom they were to preach the Good News: and this, saith Quartus, was the main part of the precept of Jesus. But now that he was to be no longer with us in the flesh, he changed his precept, bidding us use the spirit of the purse and the spirit of the scrip: and “after those words,” saith Quartus, “that ye might the better understand them, Jesus paused” (which indeed he did, for I took note of it) “in the midst of his saying, and bade you buy a sword, supposing that ye would know assuredly that he (who ever hated the sword) could not mean a visible sword, but an invisible: even that two-edged sword which Jesus brought into the world to do battle against evil withal. And belike,” saith Quartus, “Jesus meant that, after he should be taken away, we were never to be content to defend ourselves against evil, nor to lead harmless lives in peace and quiet (as the Essenes are wont to do); but that we were evermore to do battle against evil, and to assail it, and to give up all things sooner than cease to make war against it.”

At this time came down one from Bethany to tell us that the servants of the chief priests had beset the house of Mary and Martha, and others were watching on the road for to take Jesus if he should come up the hill. Therefore Jesus turned aside from the road and went unto a place whither he had also beforetime gone with us: it was a small vale, wherein grew many olive-trees, insomuch that it was hence called the Press of Olive Oil, or Gethsemane. When Jesus came to this place, we would fain have still accompanied him; but he suffered us not, but bade us stay where we were, and there to watch and pray, lest we entered into temptation: for these were his very words to us. But taking John and Peter and James, he himself went forward about a stone’s cast; and we noted that, after a short while, he parted from them, though they were fain to stay him (for we could hear all things as well as see, because the night was very calm, and no less still than bright); and he went on yet another stone’s cast or somewhat less, and the three disciples sat down where they were. Then Jesus stretched out his hands unto the Lord and prayed with exceeding earnestness; and to us, where we stood, he seemed as one in a sore agony; for at one time we could discern him standing erect, but at another time kneeling or prostrate upon the ground; and though he spake not loud, yet could I hear words that made my very flesh to shiver and creep; for he cried unto the Lord and said, “Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me.” These words he said more than once, so that I could not but hear them; and a sickness of heart and an horror fell on me that such an one as Jesus of Nazareth should come to such a pass, and should ever need to say, “if it be possible.”

Now so it was, that in spite of our sorrow and anguish of heart, all we that watched with Jesus at this time were so pressed down with a strange slumber that it was not possible for us to resist the burden thereof upon our eyelids; and oftentimes we would walk up and down and speak each to other for to shake off the leaden weight from our eyes; but we could not, no, though we were angered, and reproached ourselves aloud. For we had not slept much during three nights past or more, because of the need of watching for Jesus; and besides, the very unexpectedness of all that sorrow which had of late encompassed us round on every side, caused us to feel like unto them which wander in the wilderness of a dream or vision of the night, insomuch that we scarce knew whether we were asleep or awake: and the anguish of Jesus itself was unto us as it were but a part of a bad dream. For we could not attain to understand his sorrow, nor to share in his burden. Only we knew that he sorrowed not for fear of death. But we knew not at that time the secret of his agony, how he was at that instant wrestling with Satan for the salvation of all the children of men. Yet so indeed it was. And though the suffering of Jesus was seen of men when his body hung upon the cross, yet meseemeth it was seen of God when he was prostrate upon the ground in Gethsemane, and his soul was crying unto the Lord and saying, “if it be possible.”

Loth am I to write many words concerning that which is above all reach of words, yea, and above all reach of the thoughts of men; yet will I here set down that which was said unto me concerning this matter by a certain Alexandrine, a friend of Quartus, who was a man of an understanding spirit and of discernment above the common. This man, when I once marvelled aloud, in his presence, as to the cause of the agony of Jesus, made answer to me and said, “What was it, thinkest thou, that caused Jesus more pain and sorrow than aught else?” So I replied, “Without doubt, the sins of men: for he often spake as if it were a pain to him, even to forgive the sins of men.” But the Alexandrine replied, “As it seemeth to me, Jesus did not merely forgive sins twice or thrice in a week, nor in a day, no, nor even in an hour: but his whole life was a state of forgiving, and a state of bearing sins and of carrying iniquities, and of making himself one with sinners. For this end it was needful that Jesus should have strength to trust in men and to hope for men: for without trust and hope thou knowest it is impossible for thee to lift up a sinful man in forgiveness, howsoever great may be thy love for the sinful.

“Therefore, even as the Gentiles fable that Atlas doth bear up the pillars of the earth, even so, methinks, Jesus of Nazareth knew in himself that he bare up the pillars of the invisible Jerusalem, the city of the souls of men; and so long as he had strength to trust and hope, so long he knew that the invisible city stood and was to stand; but, if he should fail in trust and hope so that he should fall (even for a single instant), then behold, in that same fall of the Son of man fell all the world, yea, all the souls of men, and all the Temple of the Congregation of the children of God; and so the universe became the hunting-ground of Satan, and the children of men his prey, and God was not. Peradventure, therefore, the burden of Jesus was this bearing of the sins of men, and especially of the sin of Judas and the infirmities of you his disciples, and the thought of the impotence of good to conquer evil. Moreover perchance there rose up before him the image of the morrow, when he should hang upon the cross, and when the strength and force of life should leave him, and there should be no one to succour, no one to comfort; and a vision from Satan stood before him, and he heard a voice that whispered evil things: ‘If now thou shouldest lose thy trust for an instant? and the pillar should be snapped? and the invisible city should fall? and the gates of hell should prevail over the gates of heaven?’ ”

This then is what the Alexandrine said unto me concerning the suffering of Jesus: but it needeth not to say that at this time we understood naught of these things: only we perceived that some terrible thing was at hand. But about the space of an hour or more, as I judge, had passed since we first heard Jesus say, “if it be possible”; and now methought Jesus was less disturbed in praying. And presently we saw him standing upright, very clearly to be seen in the light of the moon, which streamed upon him through the olive branches; and these words were borne to our ears through the stillness of the night, “O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me, except I drink it, thy will be done.” But some of the disciples told me afterwards that at this time they saw a shape, as of an angel clothed in white, ministering unto him. But I saw it not, for it may be that I was at that time slumbering: for soon after I had heard Jesus speak these last words, there fell a deep sleep upon me and upon the rest of the disciples that were nearest to me. Afterwards they all slumbered and slept, even the sons of Zebedee and Peter also; and perchance this thing was from the Lord, to the intent that Jesus might bear all his burden alone.

After this, I remember no more, save that I had a vision of the night in my slumber, wherein I saw Jesus of Nazareth clothed in bright raiment, glorious to behold. He stood and prayed upon the summit of a mountain. Howbeit in my dream it seemed to be not Mount Olivet, but the Mount of the Law in Galilee. And as I looked upon him, his stature grew larger and his raiment brighter, till the brightness thereof filled the sky, and set it all in a flame. With that I awoke on a sudden, and opening mine eyes, I perceived that there were flames indeed around me; then, leaping up, I found myself in the midst of torches, and armed men compassing me round. Yet could I discern, through the midst of them all, Jesus, with a calm countenance, stooping over John and Peter and James, and arousing them from sleep.

Now all that came to pass thereafter was finished in a few moments, though it take long to tell. For Judas, who was the guide of the armed men, ran swiftly before the rest up to Jesus and said, “Hail, Master,” and saluted him. And, as I was told by them that were nigh to see, Judas seemed as if he knew not, even at the last, what would come to pass, nor scarce what he himself was doing. For he embraced Jesus and pointed to the soldiers that followed behind him, as if half expecting that Jesus would call down fire upon them. But Jesus looked upon him as if looking upon a stranger, and made him such answer as to shew that he perceived his treachery; whereat Judas drew back, they said, as one distraught. Then Simon Peter drew a sword and struck a blow at one of the soldiers; and the rest of us ran up to have joined in the fray. But Jesus straightway rebuked us, and bidding Peter put up his sword, he yielded himself up to the soldiers. Yet even to the last he was as a son obeying the will of the Father, and not like unto one acting from constraint; for I myself heard him say unto Simon Peter, “Thinkest thou that I cannot pray to my Father and He shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels? But how then shall the Scriptures be fulfilled, that thus it must be?”

Now up to this moment we had not yet fled; for we could not even then believe that our Redeemer, the Messiah, the Son of the Living God, would be led captive; yea, even though he resisted not, yet were we assured that the Lord God of Israel would stretch out His hand to deliver His Holy One. So we still waited and were in expectation. But when at last the servants of the high priests laid their hands on him and the soldiers bound him and dragged him roughly away, and yet no fire from heaven came down upon them, neither did the earth open her mouth to swallow them up; then we all forsook him and fled.

CHAPTER XXIX

Though we had so basely fled from our Master, yet away from him we were not able to rest. Therefore we followed after the guard down the mountain, even into Jerusalem, and mingled with the concourse that was gathered together before the doors of the High Priest’s house. Near me was John the son of Zebedee; who, having some acquaintance in the household of the High Priest, gained access into the house; and Peter also with him. But I remained without; and I conversed with the people, making as if I were no Galilean, but a citizen of Jerusalem. For I perceived that the most part of the multitude were men of Jerusalem, some indeed citizens, but the greater part servants of the chief priests, and money-changers, and cattle-dealers; who had been gathered together of set purpose by the enemies of Jesus.

But when I asked one why he hated Jesus (for the man had declared aloud that he trusted that day to see Jesus on the cross), he replied, “Because this Galilean marreth our trade, and taketh away our living; for behold, these three days men buy no beasts for sacrifice from my stalls in the temple.” And another said, “Yea, and he maketh no secret that he purposeth to destroy our religion, and change our customs which Moses appointed: for he saith that he will destroy this temple, and boasteth, forsooth, that he will raise up another equal to this in three days.” Now this saying of Jesus (which indeed he had not said, for I have set down his words exactly above) had been carried from mouth to mouth throughout Jerusalem; and the chief priests had everywhere caused it to be rumoured that the intent of Jesus was to destroy the temple with fire during that Passover. Therefore the hearts of many of the devout and sober people were turned away from Jesus.

After we had waited about two hours or something less, a certain Scribe came up to a servant of the chief priests, who was conversing with me; and the Scribe asked the man concerning the multitude, for what cause it was gathered together: and the man said, “To see the false prophet, named Jesus of Nazareth, who is to be condemned to death.” “Nay,” said the other, “then thou losest thy labour. For if a man be tried for his life, he may not be tried on the day before the Sabbath; for the Law alloweth appeal on the morrow. Therefore if, as thou sayest, Jesus of Nazareth is yonder being tried, it cannot be that he is tried for his life.” Hereat I rejoiced greatly, for I bethought myself that it was even so as the Scribe had said, wherefore it could not be that Jesus was to be tried for his life. But when I drew nigh unto them (for the press had parted us for an instant): “I give thee a yea for thy nay,” said the other, “for thou knowest the Law, but I know my master Annas; and he is not the man to allow a little matter of a day to stand in his way; nor to permit the booths and shops in the temple (whence cometh profit to the priests) to be destroyed by false prophets and Galileans to boot.” Then indeed my heart misgave me that it was to be no trial, but only a murder.

Just then one came down the steps leading from the High Priest’s house, and the people ran together towards him to know what had been done. He stood still, and made a gesture that they should keep silence; and then in a clear voice he spake to the multitude and said, “The council hath pronounced that Jesus of Nazareth is a man of death.” Hereupon there was a general shout, for all knew that to be “a man of death” meant to be condemned to die: and straightway a cry arose, “Stone him, stone him; bring him out that we may stone him.” But the man checked them that shouted, saying that the accused must first be led to the judgment seat of the procurator, Pontius Pilate, for without his judgment it was not lawful that any should be put to death.

Then my heart revived a little again; for it seemed there was still some hope. But seeing Simon Peter come forth from the High Priest’s house, I pressed through the throng if perchance I might come at him, to ask him touching the trial, and what the witnesses had testified, and how Jesus had borne himself. But Peter seemed not to see me; and even when I called him by name he would not hear me. At last, by dint of striving, I came near him in the throng and caught hold of his garment, and stayed him by force. Then, indeed, he stayed; but as he turned round and his face looked upon my face, behold, I saw in his countenance shame, and remorse, and despair; and he assayed to speak, but could not, and wrung my hand in silence. Then waving me off that I should not any more stay him, he hasted away, and I durst not follow him; for it was evident to me that the prophecy of Jesus had been fulfilled, and that Simon Peter had denied our Master.

I turned back into the throng, for my intent was to have remained standing without, till such time as Jesus came forth. But I heard the servant of the High Priest say to one of his acquaintance that the procurator was not one to have his sleep broken by business at so early an hour; “Therefore,” said he to his companion, “go home to thy house, and warm thee, if thou wilt; for there will be naught to see these three hours.” Then it came into my mind that the mother of Jesus, and likewise Mary Magdalene, and the other women, were all this while in Bethany, neither knew they aught of that which had befallen Jesus; and it was fit they should be told. Therefore I went forth by the gate of Kidron and up the Mount of Olives even to Bethany; and there I writ a few words, telling what had befallen, and left it in the hand of one of the servants of the house; for to go in myself and to tell the tale, and to look upon their sorrow, I durst not do it. This done, I hasted back for to go down to the house of the procurator, making sure to have arrived thither long before they had made an end of the trial. But when I was gone but two or three hundred paces from Bethany, one of the women ran after me with tears and lamentations, beseeching me to return and to tell them all; and she constrained me. So I returned and told them all; and the memory of their lamenting remaineth with me unto this day.

Thus passed a long time, a very long time as it seemed to me; but at last I withdrew myself from them perforce, and hasted down the mountain. But when I was come to the palace, behold the trial was over; and I saw the rear part of a moving throng, and one told me that they were taking the prisoner to be crucified at Golgotha. Then my heart within me seemed to burst; but though I was faint before with long watching and weariness, I was not faint now, but sped after the throng. Many times did I strive to press in amidst them, if perchance Jesus might look but once upon me, or I might see his face, or so much as catch a sight of his garment as he walked; and I wept and was ready to curse myself that I had gone from the High Priest’s door before I had seen my Master’s face. For now I could not see him, no, nor anything of him, save now and then the cross, which, as they told me, he was carrying upon his shoulders; but I heard the men in the crowd saying what insults had been offered to him, and how he had been scourged and mocked and spit upon, decked with a crown of thorns and a sceptre of reed; and I was as one distracted, in whom there is no power of thought.

By this time we had passed out of the city through the western gate, and the fore part of the multitude was come to the place of execution; and they that went before me came now to a stand; and I saw the cross lifted up for an instant, to the intent, as it seemed, that it might be laid upon the ground; and one near me said, “Now they are making ready.” Then I gnashed my teeth, for I could do naught else; but I was ready to curse God (blessed is He), for I knew right well what that “making ready” meant; and a deep silence fell on all the crowd; and I could hear the blows of the hammer upon the nails; and every man held his breath, if perchance there might come the sound of a shriek or a groan. But no such sound came to the place where we stood.

Presently arose a very loud shouting from the multitude that stood before me, and behold, the cross was reared up so that the top thereof was a little above the heads of the people; and from afar off I could just discern Jesus. But I saw not his face; for his head was bowed forward and his hair, hanging over his forehead, hid his eyes. But when I thrust myself forward to have approached nearer, I could not for the press. At the same time there rang in upon mine ears a very storm of mocking and reviling and cursing against Jesus from all the bystanders, yea, even from the women and little children (with such a venom of slander had the Chief Priests poisoned the minds of the people); insomuch that I seemed to stand alone among a host of the children of Satan; neither could I endure any longer to behold such a sight, amid such beholders, and to be of no avail. Wherefore I became as one possessed; and I turned my back upon the cross and forced my way out of the crowd; the people calling after me and mocking me, and plucking me back by the cloak as I fled.

But even as my body fled away, my soul was drawn back unto the cross; and I feared to go back lest I should see Jesus, and I feared to go forward lest I should never see him. And these two fears were as two devils that possessed me, driving me hither and thither about all the hills and valleys of that neighbourhood for the space of two hours or more; and during all that time the fear to go back was the stronger. But about the eighth hour of the day, as I wandered like unto one dreaming, not knowing whither I went, behold, I stood on the top of a certain hill; and thereon was a flock of sheep quietly pasturing, and the shepherd-boy piping to them, and sunlight was all around. But casting mine eyes downward, I saw very far off, under a dark cloud, the multitude still standing round Jesus, and three crosses in the midst (for other two were crucified with him); and all in so small a space that it seemed no larger than a man’s hand.

Then came my misery back to me with a shock; and it seemed a wonderful and an horrible thing that in a little corner of the earth the Almighty should suffer such a one as Jesus of Nazareth to be slain on the cross: and yet, behold, the sun shone and the shepherds piped to their sheep, and there was peace upon the mountains, and all as if nothing strange were happening below. But soon these and all other thoughts were swallowed up in one remembrance, namely, that if I would see Jesus alive, not many minutes now remained unto me; for the sun was sinking towards the west, and I knew that he could not be suffered to remain upon the cross when the Sabbath began; for that had been against our customs. Therefore I ran down with exceeding speed, and came again to Golgotha about the tenth hour.

When I was now within two or three furlongs of the place, I perceived that some of the people were already coming away; for the Passover was near at hand, so that they must needs go to their homes. So I ran on, and came to the place where the multitude was standing. And because the throng was diminished, I was now able to come very much nearer to the midst of the multitude, not more than a stone’s cast from the cross. But alas for the sight I saw! For though I was so close, I could not discern anything of Jesus as he once had been; because his head was bowed forward even more than before, and moreover there was an unwonted darkness over all the place. The people were very still, nor was there now any more sound of cursing or mocking; for of them that still remained round the cross some were the friends of Jesus, and others had been greatly moved (so it was told me afterwards) by the manner in which he had borne himself upon the cross; insomuch that even the soldiers which kept guard mocked him no more, but stood watching in silence. But I came forward to the furthest that I might, and placed myself where haply he might see me; and I would fain have called unto him; but I durst not, lest I should trouble him, for he was very still. But when I was now come so close unto him that I might almost discern his features in spite of the darkness, behold it was as if a trembling ran through all his limbs, and he raised his head a little, and a voice came forth, which, whoso heard, could not forget for ever: “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” Then there was another cry exceeding long and loud, and a second trembling running through all the limbs even to the neck and face; and then a stiffness as of death.

Now up to the very last I had not given up all hope that Jesus might yet come down from the cross, shewing forth some mighty work worthy of a Messiah; nor did I indeed know how much hope I had had, till this moment wherein all hope perished. But now, when I turned myself to go away from the cross and to leave Jesus for ever, all things seemed ended, and I felt as one alone in the world; yea, I knew not whether there were a God, or whether I myself lived, or all life were not a dream. Thus I went forward, as one in a trance; when on a sudden I heard the voice of Hezekiah the Scribe: “Art thou not yet convinced of thy folly? Behold, it is written that thou shouldest not put thy trust in any child of man. For when the breath of man goeth forth, he shall turn again to his earth, and then all his thoughts perish; even as this thy master, the false prophet, hath perished. But blessed is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help, who keepeth His promises for ever. But thy master, how keepeth he his promises? Unless perchance,” and here he lowered his voice and looked jealously at me, “unless (as is reported to us) ye Galileans hope to steal his body from the grave and so to feign that he is risen; but that shall not be. For though your patron Joseph of Arimathea may have his will to-day, yet will we take good order that we have our will to-morrow. For the body of a false prophet deserveth not honourable burial.”