Author: Elizabeth Bennent
Discalimer: This story half belongs to the authors of the Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. I am not making any money off of this (for details see John 2:12, Jesus in the Temple.) But original characters and situations are mine, so please ask if you would like to use. Thanks.
Dedication: As always, to the Princess Circle. Also, to the cast of Guilford's "Jesus Christ Superstar."
The Pharisees had brought Jesus to the High Priest, Ciaphas' court where they interrogated him and beat him. There was a mob of other Jews looking on, pretending that they had not cheered when Jesus had entered the city. They had looks of distain and hatred on their faces. They were only masks.
From that point, the Pharisees decided to take Jesus to the Roman procurator, Pontius Pilate. If the procurator agreed to whatever it was that the Pharisees requested, it would come to pass.
In the morning, Mary, the Mother, and John left to see the Roman trial of Jesus. Salome stayed at the lodging in the case that any other disciples appeared from their escape.
When Jesus was brought out, Mary felt her stomach tighten with sickness. He was beaten across the face, chest, and back.
"My Father, protect him...please," Mary whispered.
"What has this man done?" asked the procurator with a strong voice that was not frightening, but almost reassuring. But how could anything have seemed reassuring then?
The High Pharisee, Caiaphas answered, "He has gone against our religion; our beliefs, good Pilate. We cannot punish him how we would like, however. We would like to execute him, but there are no laws for us that say we can execute Jesus of Nazareth. We need your blessing."
John scoffed when Caiaphas said "blessing."
After Pilate thought and talked with Jesus in a room off to the side of the courtyard where the crowd stood, he told them to take him to King Herod of Galilee. Jesus was, after all, not under Pilate's rule. He came from the land of Galilee.
During the hour Jesus was taken to the palace where Herod was staying for Passover, Mary and the Mother waited in the crowded courtyard with a loaf of bread they had brought for their meal. The air was hot, and the many bodies did not make anything more comfortable. The people next to Mary talked in hushed voices.
"He has done wrong. How can he think that we believe him to be the Messiah talked about by Isaiah?" one said.
"How can he believe himself to be the Messiah?" the other asked.
"Pilate must order to have him crucified. It is the only way to ensure our safety."
Safety...not the Messiah...?
They all really believed that Jesus was a fraud. These were the same people that cried "Hosanna!" when he came into Jerusalem. What was happening? They were afraid. But afraid of what? She did not know how to stop this, how to make these people believe that he was the Messiah. But like the townspeople of Bethany wouldn't listen to Mary of Bethany, they would not listen to her either.
Then she knew. It was the will of God. The people would learn someday that he was the Messiah, and follow him. But then, it would be too late for Jesus.
Hours later, Pilate would still not crucify Jesus. Instead they had him severely beaten thirty-nine times. Mary watched. His blood pooled on the white stones that pieced together to make up the floor. The Mother vomited half way through it and Mary had to leave the side of her husband to comfort her mother-in-law. The laughter of the guards came from the yard where he was tortured. Each laugh pierced their hearts.
When Jesus was brought back to Pilate, Mary saw the shock on the procurator's face when he laid eyes upon Jesus. He scolded a guard about the harshness of the beating. He looked over the crowd screaming "Crucify him! Crucify him!"
Only days before they screamed "Hosanna!"
Pilate spotted Mary, and she could feel his stare. He glazed over her tear stained face and seemed to understand.
The crowds shouts overtook Mary's sobs. They were washed out.
Pilate's decision could not have been an easy one.
He decided to accommodate the Pharisees' and the public's request; Jesus would be crucified later in the day after carrying the wood of his grave through the city to a hill outside the Jerusalem. The Skull.
It was raining over the hill of Golgotha. It was also cold. With the Mother and John at her side, she watched as Jesus, the father of her coming child, her husband, her Teacher, her Savior suffered slowly.
Mary warmed, however, when he blessed the thief dying next to him even through his pain. An awkward smile had spread across her face, as her throat tightened to stop tears from coming out of her. He is always warm…
"Mother," he cried in a raspy voice, "Mother look at me. Look at me and come to me."
Mother Mary did so, with sliver streams running off the tip of her red nose and red cheeks. Mary felt her own flaming tears wash into the falling rain.
Later he cried, "I am thirsty!"
Mary had to beg for the gaurds to give him something to drink. When the agreed they only gave him a rag soaked with vinegar causing him to sputter and cry.
"Please! Give my husband water to drink!" she cried. John pulled her back before she charged after a soldier. He stroked her hand to calm her.
Mary soon felt him going; slipping into the light. She ran and held to his ankles. Her hands became smeared with his blood as she did. Mary looked up to her Lord. He was a mass of red. But amongst the deathly color of his face, she saw his lips turn up into a smile as she clung to his feet.
"I love you," she whispered.
"It is finished," he rasped, "Father...into your...hands I commend...my spirit."
And it was finished. The bitterest cold swept over the hill.