Dear Readers,
This is a summer project I did for my Honors Jesus and Church class last schoolyear. The assignment was to read the Gospel assigned to us and then write a story from the point of view of one of the apostles based on a passage in that Gospel. I was assigned to read Matthew's Gospel, and I decided to do something a bit different and write the story from Judas' point of view. The story explains itself, and it also explains the title, so go ahead and read. I just realized how much this is a Lenten fic, and it's fitting, considering that Ash Wednesday is next week. So, God bless, and I hope you enjoy.
Best Regards from a Bookworm,
Miss Pookamonga ;-P
Written August 29, 2005
Based on Mt. 26: 47-56
Bells in the Silence
My stomach churns like the waters of the sea in a storm. My head spins, and my heart feels like it is going to explode. With each step, I come closer to Him. The jingling of the thirty pieces of silver becomes louder as I come closer.
Behind me, the soldiers grunt. One of them mutters something, and the rest laugh menacingly in response. The darkness of the night seeps through the garden trees and begins to close in around me, like a monster preparing to pounce on its prey. I sniff the sweet scent of the nectar from new spring blossoms, yet I feel like a withering plant. My conscience tugs at my heart, trying to turn me around. But I listen to the clink of the silver, like bells in the silence. I continue walking.
In the darkness, I see Him. Somehow His presence sheds light upon this cursed night. The tension around me grows thicker. My soul is screaming within me to change my decision. But I drown out its cries and focus on the music of the silver coins. As hard as I try to deny it, the music is empty and full of evil.
"Arrest the one I kiss," I whisper to the soldiers. I try to appear tougher than I feel. They nod and grunt, and I, like a cat, sneak toward Him.
I approach Him.
He looks at me. His eyes bore deep into my soul, and in them, I see sorrow and suffering. They speak to me in a language deeper than words. But I still hear the silver.
"Rabbi," I barely whisper, as I kiss Him on the cheek.
"Friend, do what you came to do," He answers in a voice so sad that I almost feel like crying. Reluctantly, I meet His gaze again and am nearly shocked at the intensity of the pain and yet the compassion reflected in them. It seems as if He is more concerned for my soul than for His own life. For a moment, I hesitate and almost tell the soldiers and chief priests that the deal is off. But the jingling music of the silver crosses my mind, and greed clouds my conscience.
The soldiers lunge for Him with swords flashing. Suddenly, one of my friends—former friends—jumps forward and swings his sword down on one of the soldiers' ears. The soldier screams, clutching his ear. He turns on my friend in anger.
"All who take by the sword will perish by the sword!" I gulp. I guess the same goes for those who take money.
The soldiers bind Him in ropes and drag Him away. He does not even struggle. I watch in horror, finally ignoring the silver and realizing what I've done. I flee, hoping that I can stop what I have started. But as the tree branches whip my body and snag my clothes, my hope plummets into darkness, and I know that my life will never be the same again.