AGONY
You open your eyes. It’s pitch black. You see the earthen ceiling of your Jerusalem home near the Mount of Olives.
There’s no way you’ll fall asleep now. You get up and go for a walk.
You go up to the Mount of Olives and walk to a ledge near the Garden of Gethsemane. You hear a man praying, crying. You’re cold in only a linen cloth, and wet, but you can’t leave. It’s dark and you’re tired. You might be able to get back to sleep now if you got back in your own bed. But no. The man’s haunting prayer imprisons you behind the ledge.
“Abba, Father, all things are possible for you.”
You peer up and over the side of the ledge and see a man in his early 30’s praying so hard he’s sweating. No wait- that’s not sweat running down his face, you realize in horror, fighting an urge to hurl- it’s blood. You can find no wound. This man must be praying so hard he’s sweating blood.
“Take this cup away from me, but not what I will but what you will.”
The man pauses, and then leaves the rock he’s been praying at. You scramble up the rocks of the ledge and follow him at a safe distance. The rock, you see, has splatters of blood on it from the man’s sweating. You hear him from behind some olive trees near your ledge waking up three other men.
He says loudly, disappointed, “Simon, are you asleep?” Immediately, all three men wake with a start, embarrassed, ashamed. “Could you not keep watch with me for one hour?”
Simon tries to offer some lame excuses, but the man cuts him off, repeating an apparent earlier command, “Watch and pray. Watch and pray that you may not undergo the test.”
“But Lord…”Simon begins.
The man again interrupts, simply saying, “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” The man’s coming this way again. Quickly you run to your ledge and jump down just in time, scraping your knees in the process.
You hear him again say, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; still not my will but yours be done,” he cried. You see a blinding light suddenly brighten up the dark place, but think nothing of it. The man continues to pray. You continue to watch.
Suddenly, the light leaves, the man stops, discouraged. Shoulders slumped; he again dejectedly begins to wake his disciples. “Peter, James, John, the hour has come.”
Whatever happened to Simon? You wonder, but before you can figure it out, you see torches light up the night. Soldiers. They are lead by a man dressed similarly to Peter, James, and John. He walks up the man, says “Rabbi,” and kisses him.
The man pulls away, with a look that drives shame into the other man’s face.
“Judas,” he begins. “You betray the Son of Man with a kiss.”
You can’t tell if it’s a statement or a question, but you don’t want to stick around. Bright torches and soldiers can only mean one thing- Romans. And where there are Romans, trouble follows. And a betrayal meant there would be an arrest.
“Who are you looking for?” the man asks.
“Jesus of Nazareth,” they answer.
“I AM,” said the man.
You’re right about the arrest, but you’re surprised. This has got to be the strangest arrest you’ve ever seen. The man- Jesus- goes willingly. The man you believe to be Simon/Peter won’t let him go that willingly. He draws his sword. You shut your eyes. A scream of pain reaches your ears. You peek your eyes open and see of the Romans clutching his head, blood gushing from the hand covering the space where an ear used to be. You might throw up. The sight of blood makes you squeamish.
“Put the sword away, Simon Peter,” Jesus commands. So Simon was Peter, he just had two names.
Then you see Jesus walk up to the Roman, touch his hear, and heal him.
Suddenly you get the urge to help this man. For once in your life you’re making something count. You won’t be a coward! No, not anymore! You are not afraid! You crawl up the ledge, your skinned knees smarting the whole time, and stand near the bloodstained rock as you watch Simon put his sword away.
You rush in, you don’t think. You must be getting hypothermia from the cold; you can’t think straight. There’s no way you stand a chance against those Romans! If Jesus could heal a severed ear surely he’d save himself. He doesn’t need you!
You realize your cowardly fear too late, and a Roman soldier grabs you by the cloak. You don’t want to be associated with this man. If he were to be jailed or killed, the same might happen to you. They’d never believe your story in a million years.
You have a family to take care of; this can’t happen to you! You run, ripping your cloak, leaving the soldier with just an empty cloth. An empty shell that used to shelter your now-naked body. Feeling ashamed and exposed, you run across the rocks barefoot back home, crying.
In the distance, a cock crows once.
By: Haili G
based off of the gospel of Matthew
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