It may surprise you to see my story included here. But once the opportunity was given to me, I just couldn’t pass it up. Perhaps you may think of me as an enemy of Jesus, but I assure you that I was not, at least not at first.

Well, here I am again, the Pharisee who wrote to you some time ago.

Since that message, many years have passed. I’m not old just yet, but I do have some gray hairs. I remain a Pharisee, and am still steeped in the traditions of our faith and in its laws, which I hold very dear.

Has anything changed? Other than the color of my hair? In a word, yes.

He was one of us. One of the twelve, chosen by Jesus himself, just like the rest. And now, he’s gone, having taken his own life. He snuffed it out like a candle. The flame of his life is gone forever, leaving us to ponder.

“Then Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot, who was one of the twelve; he went away and conferred with the chief priests and officers of the temple police about how he might betray him to them.  They were greatly pleased and agreed to give him money. So he consented and began to look for an opportunity to betray him to them when no crowd was present.”

We were all so very unlikely, but perhaps none more so than me. Our fellowship of disciples included fishermen, drawn straight out of their boats. And of course, there was a tax collector, one who was hated by most of our countrymen. Another would betray our Lord. One who would deny him. Yet another, who questioned everything. And finally, several more, ones who were so obscure that in your time, you know little about them. Gospel writers couldn’t even agree on their names!

Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The devil had already decided that Judas son of Simon Iscariot would betray Jesus. And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from supper, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.

The Passover, one of our oldest traditions, was always meant to be celebrated with great joy. Why? Because it commemorates God’s defining act in freeing the Children of Israel from slavery in Egypt. And our joy in this festival has never dimmed, even over many hundreds of years. It is at the heart of our faith, and especially the Passover meal, called the Seder. No Jewish tradition is more important and none is more joyous than Passover. Year after year, we look forward to it with great anticipation.

But not this one. Not this time. Not for us.

I am writing this to you, in your century, to warn you about the Lord’s Supper. You see, my hope is that we might share this memory of Jesus with you across all of the centuries that separate us. But yes, I need to warn you, hoping that you will not dishonor the words of Jesus just as we did only hours ago.

Then Jesus cried again with a loud voice and breathed his last. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. The earth shook, and the rocks were split. The tombs also were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised. After his resurrection they came out of the tombs and entered the holy city and appeared to many. 

The day was dawning under heavy clouds, portending a storm on the lake.  We fishermen, with our nose for the weather, could feel it coming.  So, we stayed close to shore, huddled in the boat, ready to dash to safety.  

Were you there when they crucified my Lord

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble.

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

You don’t know rejection. You may think you do. And of course, none of us lives for very long without experiencing some amount of it. But I am here to tell you that you don’t really know rejection as Jesus did. Not even close.

I’m an old man now. And like old men everywhere, I spend a lot of time reflecting. Reflecting on events that I have witnessed, reflecting on people I have known, and reflecting on my own life and what it all means. I hope my reflections are honest.

As I write this to you, the rabbi Jesus is being crucified. And I should be there. Yes, I should, but I am not. Am I too busy? Too occupied with important matters? Needed somewhere away for an emergency?

No, none of those. If I am completely honest with myself, I will admit that I am not there because I am afraid.

You know me. I appear in all four of the Gospels in your Bible. For a time, you may recall, I was thought to be a prostitute, saved by Jesus. Well, in truth, I was saved by Jesus, freed by his healing power from forces attacking me; but I was not a prostitute. In fact, I was a respectable woman who followed Jesus and who, along with others, gave financial support to his ministry. 

“Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.  Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

When Jesus told us of the Holy Spirit, my brother apostles and I were not impressed. More than that, we were confused and frankly, disappointed. After all, we had been with Jesus for three years.

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.”

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. (John 1)

Please don’t call me a “doubter.” If you must call me anything at all, I prefer that you call me “a practical thinker.” This doubting thing, you see, has gone on far too long and you must help to dispel that image of me.