by SwordSkill
Author's Notes: The names of the robbers and Keziel's family, the events that happened to the robbers before the crucifixion, and their dialogues except for the dialogues with Jesus are all mine. Just check my disclaimers:The Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, NIV. Please R/R.
My name is Keziel.
I was born to my father Ethan and my mother Tamar. My parents feared and loved Yahweh the Almighty. When I was young, I attended the synagogues, memorized the Torah, had my bar mitzvah, and was as a straightforward young man. Like everyone else, I waited for Messiah to deliver us from the iron hand of Caesar. But I'm afraid my parents's true reverence to God did not pass to me. On my eighteenth year, my village in Samaria was burned down by marauding bandits and my family was killed. I barely fled with my life.
My faith in God was weak. For all that happened, I blamed Him. I hated Him, turned from Him, blasphemed Him, and left Samaria for Galilee. I could never erase the glimpse of my father's head being decapitated as he tried to protect his family, nor the sight of my mother being ravaged again and again before her body was thrust with three spears, whilst I was urged by them to run away.
Upon reaching Galilee, I met a man named Aram. He said he was a successful tentmaker. I, on the other hand, was a helpless young man, penniless, hungry, and weak. He took me in his house, which was strangely well-hidden from town. He fed me, and nursed me, and soon, we became fast friends. I lived in his house for no cost at all.
One day I accidentally found out that he was a notorious thief, famous for his daring exploits and his clever escapes from the soldiers. When I confronted him, I was too grateful to turn him in. I readily accepted his offer of my being his accomplice in this survival of life.
I soon learned from him how to become a sly and subtle outlaw. I accompanied him in his successful robberies of houses, temples, and Roman headquarters. I was a fast learner, and I myself was usually sent by him to do some "errands." I was no longer apprentice to him; I became his equal in the art of thievery.
During one of my escapades, I broke my left leg. Aram told me to go find a man named Jesus, whom people said was a prophet, for He did miraculous deeds. I, with my skills honed to perfection, quickly found Him. He had with Him twelve men whom He called His disciples, and He indeed performed miraculous signs. He healed people of sicknesses and disabilities while He preached of God and His kingdom, and a certain Son of Man. I paid no heed to His words, for I had already shunned God from my life. Wrestling with others, I managed to get near Him and had my leg healed.
As I went back to Aram's house, I began to ponder on this Jesus' words. Who was this Jesus? His words had left a strange imprint in my heart to leave Aram, to turn back to God, and to follow Jesus. But I forgot about them when I arrived at the house.
Months passed by, and still I always saw Jesus healing people and preaching to them. I tried to forget His words, but somehow, they made me feel more and more uncomfortable about the state my life had become. I was once a respectable young man, and now I was a feared thief: strong, wicked, and one who sought pleasure in drink and in women.
I never told Aram about the struggles I was having; I was afraid that for those we would lose our comradeship. Instead, I would spend some days out of the house, while in a clever disguise, follow the crowd who sought Jesus. I learned very much from Him and realized that my wretched life needed greatly of a change. But still I would not face Aram; I was too afraid. If I was kicked out of his house, where would I turn to? I was now as hunted as he was, and if I did not find a safe refuge, I would be caught by the soldiers and be sentenced to the most cruel and painful punishment: crucifixion.
Nevertheless, I frequently stole away from Aram's companionship to listen to Jesus. I began craving for His words and His parables. I wanted more and more to be His follower, instead of Aram's. But I couldn't. I did not have the courage.
Soon I learned that Jesus was going to Jerusalem, in Judea. Not wanting to miss Him, I lied to Aram that I heard a rumor of a very rich merchant in Jerusalem who had gold and silver enough to rival Caesar's. This situation with Aram became a student-surpassing-the-teacher one. He had taught me to lie so well that he actually fell for it.
Soon we headed to Jerusalem and Aram quickly had a small house built for us. For many days there in Jerusalem, Aram found even more people to steal from. But he had not forgotten the rumor I told him about the merchant. I tried to stall while I tried to find where Jesus and His discpiles went. But Aram was not to be sidestepped. He had become suspicious of me of my frequent leavings of him and my diminishing number of robberies.
One night, he told me that he had planned of a robbery of one of the temples. But it was too big a plan that he needed me to help him. I became very suspicious. It had been a long time since we had worked together, and as far as I knew, Aram usually preferred to work alone. I said yes, but I was wary. I felt as if he was giving me some sort of test.
The night came. As we neared the temple and hid, we heard the end of the Pharisees's discussion about sending a man whose name I did not catch to Caiaphas, the high priest. Soon, they had a man surrounded by soldiers led out of the temple. Due to the soldiers's height and the darkness of night, I could not see who the man was nor see his face. There was something vaguely familiar about his figure, though. But I shook it off. I had more important things to think about.
When the soldiers and the captive had gone out, Aram and I quickly made our way inside the temple. But I was too engrossed in thinking that what we were doing was very wrong, I had forgotten all the stealth techniques that Aram had taught me. I stumbled too much and made so much noise that Aram suddenly heard a guard approaching us from the streets. Aram cursed and told me to overpower whatever guard there was while he went in the temple and grabbed the gold.
Somehow, my feet would not move. I was faced in the dilemma now. Jesus' lessons came pouring in my head. I could hurry on and do what Aram had said, or I could turn ourselves in. Aram gave me a quick and painful nudge to set me going, but then I suddenly shook my head no. He spat on me and was about to run to the temple to grab the gold at all costs, but I quickly stretched my arm and grabbed him. He turned and cursed at me, struggling to wrench his arm free, but I stood solid, staring at him, silent. I had made my decision.
The guard came, accompanied by two more soldiers. At the sight of them, Aram finally yanked his arm free and rushed in the temple while I stood stock still. The guard saw what he was doing, and he had his soldiers run in and capture Aram. The two soldiers were too strong for Aram, and at last, my comrade was dragged out of the temple, cursing, calling me a son of an Amalekite.
The guard was about to question him, but then seeing our faces, suddenly realized that he had two of the most notorious thieves in Israel in his reach. We were both arrested, sent to trial, and both sentenced the very next day to what I had always feared, for we were to be crucified.
Aram had spent the whole night screaming at me all the curses of the Hebrew language while I had spent the night in silence. All I knew was that I had done the right thing.
We were brought out the next morning to the place of the Skull, Golgotha. First we were stripped, flogged, and finally brought to face our crosses. They were only made of two wooden planks nailed to each other, but to me, they were what was going to kill Aram and I for our evil deeds.
There was an empty cross between ours. I wondered who it was for, and felt sorry for him.
We were laid down on our crosses, our arms stretched and our feet folded. Then I felt the most excruciating pain I had ever felt in my whole life.
When they drove the nails into my hands and my feet, I screamed.
Pain! PAIN! PAIN!
That was all I felt! Steel rods being driven in my hands and feet, sending crimson blood spurting in all directions! My body trembled violently, my lungs were running out of air, my brain was shrieking of pain! Sweat poured from my brow as I felt strike after strike after of the black hammer!
Never have I ever felt such a longing to quickly die and leave all this suffering! I was crying, shrieking, writhing, twisting out of the pain. My God, have You forsaken me?!
When the soldiers had finished nailing me to the cross, I gasped, trying to control my breath, the pain not leaving my body. My whole body was bathed in sweat. I could hear Aram still screaming in the other side. I turned to look at my fellow thief, and that was when I saw Him, between Aram and I.
Jesus.
He was being nailed to the cross I had seen.
Same as Aram and I had been.
As if He had also been a criminal.
I stared, shocked. I had somehow always known, always felt that Jesus was sinless, blameless; that He had never done anything wrong! He loved all people, it seemed, from the rich to the poorest of the poor. Why was He here? What had He done?
As the soldiers pulled mine and Aram's crosses, I kept staring at Jesus in horror. He was not screaming, although the pain was evidently written in His face. He was also stripped of clothes and a crown wrung of thorns was placed on His head. Blood was pouring from his matted hair and His body was laced with whip lashes. He was calm, resigned to His suffering as they drove each thick nail into Him.
His cross was also raised, and three of us hung on our crosses, waiting to die. That was when I saw the notice on His cross that read: JESUS OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS.
I was speechless.
The soldiers divided His clothes, which was woven in one piece and cast lots for it. They gambled for the clothes of this innocent man! I had never felt so enraged over the unfairness of life.
Then Jesus looked at the great multitude that had gathered to see all three of us crucified. I heard Him murmur, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing."
I watched in anger as the crowd hurled insults at Him.
"He saves others," they sneered, "let Him save Himself if He is the Christ of God, the Chosen One!"
"So! You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, come down from the cross and save yourself!"
And the chief priests shouted, " He saved others, but He can't save Himself! Let this Christ, the King of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe. He trust in God. Let God rescue Him now if He wan't Him, for He said, 'I am the Son of God.'"
Jesus heard them, I knew, but He did not react. Instead, He looked down and saw His mother and one of His disciples, whose name was John, I think.
He said to His mother, "Dear woman, here is your son." And to the disciple He said, "Here is your mother."
I felt extreme pity for this Man. I also felt a strong urge to curse the crowd.
And even Aram! He glared at Jesus and yelled, "Aren't You the Christ? Save Yourself and us!"
I felt my face turn red as I shouted at Aram, "Don't you fear God, since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong."
I remembered all that Jesus had preached. I remembered the kingdom of God, and the Son of Man. Right then and there I knew He was the Son of God.
I turned my neck to face Him, and I said, "Jesus, remember me when You come into your kingdom."
Jesus looked at me with those brown, loving eyes and said the most precious words I have ever heard throughout my life: "I tell you the truth, today you will be with Me in paradise."
I looked back at Him, my eyes filling with tears.
In the next few hours under the scorching sun and the intense pain of my body, I thought of what I had done, thought of Jesus, how He, an innocent man, had come to face this execution for criminals.
Suddenly, the sky darkened, the sun stopped shining, and blackness covered all over the land. My heart throbbed. Was this the second judgment of God?
After hours of waiting, Jesus suddenly cried out, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabacthani? My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?"
I heard the crowd mumble, "He must be calling Elijah."
A soldier soaked a sponge in a jar of vinegar, put it on the stalk of a hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus' mouth. He drank it.
Then the crowd murmured, "Now let's leave Him alone and see if Elijah rescues Him."
Jesus looked to the sky and said, "It is finished." Then he cried, "Father, into your hands I commit My spirit!"
His head sunk to His chest.
Right before my very eyes, I saw Him die. This holy Man, the Son of Man.
Before I had time to react, I heard a distant rumble. My instincts rang. It came nearer, nearer, and nearer...
The ground where my cross stood suddenly shook with a roar. My heart trembled. Surely Jehovah was coming!
I saw the black rocks split into two as the crowd below screamed in terror. They rushed away headlong to each other in panic. Only the three of us, crucified, did not attempt to move.
Then far away, I saw bodies, dead bodies, being raised to life. They flew away from their tombs and went out in the open. I shuddered with fear.
The crowd, after seeing Jesus, gave one last mutter, and some began to disperse. But yet I could see some more people standing at the distance, watching.
I knew not how long I contemplated over His death.
But then I saw some soldiers come by, and I saw one of them approach Aram's body. The soldiers took hold of his legs, and Aram screamed, and I heard a loud crack. I closed my eyes.
When I opened them, the same soldier had come to me. I looked at him down steadily as I felt him take hold of my legs. I shot one last look on my Lord's body. Jesus, I am about to meet you...
I heard a crack, and saw no more.
A centurion had said after my Lord had died, "Surely this Man was the Son of God!"
Yes, he had spoken the truth.
I am safe.
Safe in the arms of Jesus...in paradise.