|Image source: Wikimedia Commons|
The Master taught us many things while He dwelt among us, and we did not understand some of them at the time. I, perhaps I understood least of all. But with certain death comes a measure of clarity, and this night I have finally learned the last lesson.
I have spent my final hours in prayer—why sleep, when eternal rest comes with the dawn? I have not prayed for deliverance, for the Messiah had told my fate in the hours before my greatest error: Woe to him by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would be better for him if he had never been born. He forgave me, of course, the night after he rose from the dead. He set out to conquer something far greater than the Romans—He conquered Death itself. And though I wished to die, He bid me live instead.
My errors were many in life, but this was my greatest: I believed He had come to establish an earthly kingdom. I gave Him over to the Sanhedrin, believing that I could force His hand. That He would at last show his power, throw off the shackles of his captors, and restore the Kingdom. One does not force God’s hand! At best, he may find that he has only done what God intended in the end.
Dawn is breaking. My time is short. The scaffold is ready, and I hear the guards coming. Would that I had the honor of dying on a cross, like the Master! But though I am the worst criminal of all, I shall be hung like a common one. Or a suicide.