Refuge, and Golgotha
I ran to the Bethany road, turned east away from the city, and raced at my best speed to Simon's home where I knocked and called out, begging to be given sanctuary. If I had stopped to think, then that would have been the very last place that I would have sought refuge, but in the event there were no officials or officers there at all beuse Judah had informed the authorities that Yeshua was not there but going to be Gethsemane.
He let me into his home and saw that I was scratched, bleeding and naked. After bathing my wounds he gave me a girdle and tunic then hid me in his aunt's home just down the road. While the ancient lady brought food to me she told me that her nephew's home had been surrounded not long before and searched. Obviously the authorities had not trusted Judah altogether, they may have believed that he had changed heart and attempted to throw them off at the last minute.
But Simon was not arrested. He had a good reputation in his village, and told the guards that he had given lodging and board to a group of travellers, like everybody did at Passover festival, but that he knew nothing more about them and that they had all left that morning. In any event, thanks to Simon and his Aunt, I was saved.
I fell into a deep sleep, and was set upon by more demons than I've ever seen before in my life, until I was shaken awake and told that I had to leave immediately. Simon's aunt lived on the road to Jerusalem, and she watched until a large group of travellers was passing and then ushered me out into the road and among them all as they went towards the city gates. I pushed in amongst the people and walked close to a group to look as if I was a relative of theirs. We walked and jostled our way towards the city, and as we approached, most people were turning off the road and walking through fields towards the Siloam gate. I went with these people because my mother's house was near the southern wall of the city. As the crowd entered Jerusalem they mostly turned north towards the temple, but I walked on to the West with some others, and eventually reached my mother's home.
This time I did knock, and call out. A man came to the door and just stared at me as I gave my name and begged for sanctuary. He was my mother's husband and he knew of me, had known me as a baby. I was ushered inside, given water to wash and then given food. My mother came in to see me and, to my surprise, took me in her arms and embraced me, asking question after question. How was Imma? Were we all well? What had happened to me? and so on.......
I told her about Yeshu and his mission, but she didn't need me to give much detail because everyone was talking about him, his followers and the recent events. But of course the stories that she had heard about him were really crazy! She was convinced that he was the violent brigand and insurrectionist who had rioted in the temple only two nights before. Although I tried to convince her that Yeshu had never rioted, she told me that he and his band had killed people and tried to break out into the city, but that the Roman forces had been ready and overcame the rioters before they could arouse the whole city to rebellion. That was how the Priests and city leaders were lying about events, and of course some people will believe what they are told.
Some were saying that he had been killed, some said that he was one of the arrested rebels, and others said that he was taken by the priests last night in Gethsemane, which I knew to be true. Word was also racing around the city that he had been tried by the Sanhedrin, and was even now at this early hour taken to the Roman Prefect by the Priests who wanted Roman approval for his execution.
Learning of my involvement with the troubles my step-father was not so pleased to see me or give me sanctuary, and he told Imma that I must leave immediately. I was horrified and terrified by this new development, but mostly because I could not believe that such lies about as peaceful a man as Yesh could grow so fast. I don't know, all these years later, what I could have expected. As far as the people were concerned one man had caused all that trouble and anybody who harboured any of his men would probably suffer the same fate.
I wanted to go to the Prefect's Palace to see what was happening, but my Mother pleaded with me to see sense.... if anyone in the crowd recognised me from the Temple demonstrations I would be grabbed and dragged in front of Pilate with Yeshu and any others.
'What is the use in that?' She pleaded.
I had never believed that my mother cared until now. Imma and I had struggled for years to gain our keep, and my hands were still scarred from the wounds of the flax heckling spikes. Now that a fully grown young man of her blood stood before her maybe she saw value in me? I had never asked her.... never found out. There are many unanswered questions about me because I had neither cared nor dared to ask. But when in desperate need she did help me, and I give thanks to her for that kindness.
I must have been more dear to my mother than I had believed, because she insisted that I be given good sandals, a cloak, shoulder bag and a hat so as to look like a respectable pilgrim rather than a brigand on the run. After about a couple of hours, washed, cleaned, fed and with some strength restored, I left her house, hoping to discover what had happened to Yeshu and the others. She hugged me, stepped outside to check that nobody was watching her home and then ushered me outside.
I never saw her again.
I walked through the city towards Pilate's residence, but as I approached a crowd of people was surging towards Golgotha. I could see convicts being lead to their execution, staggering under the weight of the cross-beams that they would be lashed and nailed to. At hundreds of paces away I could not identify Yeshu, but three convicts were staggering to their deaths under the weight of their cross timbers. All had been whipped but the one at the back was running red with blood, his whole head was bloody. He was wearing some kind of a headress. A very large man was helping to keep this convict up, and also shouldering his cross beam up the hill. The urge to rush forward to see more clearly was balanced by the urge to flee for my life. I could not identify any of them.
I followed at a distance, and as the soldiers stripped, lashed, nailed and hoisted those poor men up I dropped to my knees in horror. And then hands took hold of my shoulders. It was Mary of Magdala who lifted me up and embraced me in her arms.
'You have come!,' She said as she held me, 'So you have come.' was all she said just then. I kissed that brave woman and looked about.
Salome and Maram were there as well, and together we went a little way futher up the hill and sat at a distance from the crosses with some other women who had followed Yeshua. None of the men were there as far as I could see.
'Where is everyone else?' I asked them.
'They ran, and we don't blame them for that,' said Maram, gesturing to the executions. 'Yeshua gave himself up, nearly all the followers fled, and the officials weren't interested in us.'
'Probably didn't realise we were with them' said Salome.
Mary kept looking towards the crosses and shaking in shock and horror, her face soaked in tears and the others did their best to comfort her. She was such a brave woman to be there and despite the distance, Mary believed that her Yeshua was the one drenched in blood and being crucified between the other two.
'I just know it's him there, in the middle... Even bloody like that I know him!' She cried.
I had seen much death in my life, but I had never witnessed such an horrific execution, and it was the most dreadful, heartrending, disgusting spectacle possible. A crowd of onlookers, kept at a distance by the execution detail, jeered and laughed, and great shouts of laughter erupted when a convict defecated, or shuddered.
I know now that crucified people cannot breath easily, their arms ache most dreadfully, but their roped arms secured from struggling by nailed hands are in agony, and the only way to gain the slightest relief is by pushing upwards with their legs.
Within a short time the push-ups started, and as a convict pushed himself up the crowd would call 'Ooops!', and as he collapsed back to hang by his roped arms and nailed hands the crowd would call out 'Aahhhh!'
'Ooops!..... Aaagh!' . 'Ooops!..... Aaagh!'
Yeshua's arms were lashed by his elbows and nail heads produced from the palms of his hands. His feet were placed upon a step and a nail was driven through both and then into the step itself. But I could see that the other convicts were being crucified in a different way and had big nails hammered into the beam through their wrists, with their ankles nailed to either sideof the upright beam. And so when they pushed themselves upwards the full weight of their bodies was upon those nails which held their ankles. Yeshua was in agony, but the convicts were in hellfire. I did not know the other two convicts and can tell you that they were neither disciples nor followers of Yeshua's.
'Ooops!' ..... 'Aaahh!' .... 'Ooops!' ...... 'Aahh!' and the condemned began to rise and fall in a slow but steady rythm, screaming, shuddering and shaking. Some priests stood nearby and seemed to be enjoying themselves as they gestured at the ripped, torn, bleeding and naked bodies.
How quickly a mob can change, only a few days before the people had cheered and appeared to suppot our Yesh and his followers, yet now it roared its approval as he and the others gasped, screamed, struggled and shook their last long slow journey of continual agony towards death.
One young woman ran forward and reached the left hand cross and was laughing as she managed to grasp the convict's genitals in one hand as she raised a knife in the other, but a Roman soldier reached her in time and kicked her away, continuing to kick her down the hillside until she lay bloodied and insensible at the edge of the crowd. The soldier turned and climbed back to his comrades, grinning and joking with them as he did so.
The priests, who were allowed to stand a little more closely than the rest of the crowd, called out to the soldiers, 'Which is which? We can't see!'
I could not hear everything said in answer, but I gathered that the man on the left was a brigand from the riot, the one in the middle was 'The great debater' and the one on the right was a rioter who had been caught with a bag of Temple coins. But in all the shock and dreadful trauma of the moment I thought no more about such details, just then.
We four embraced each other in a circle for what comfort that provided, neither attempting to leave nor stare on at our dear friend in his long drawn out death agony, which might continue for a very long time. The best thing we could do was to hope for as quick a death as possible. But it did not end. Hour after dreadful hour the convicts pushed up to take breaths and relieve the upper agony, then drop back down to save from the hellfire below. I did take glances from time to time, and I definitely saw another young woman get past the guards and run up to the convict on the left to lunge at his genitals, and I heard peels of laughter as a guard went slowly forward and kicked her hard in the stomach, then threw her back. The crowd roared its approval.
I scanned among the watching, cheering, laughing, leering crowd but never did see any more of Yeshua's followers or disciples. We continued to clutch each other and we cried, prayed and comforted each other as best we could. As the day drew towards its end so the screams from the stakes became moans, the shudders became invisible and the upward pushes and downward collapses reduced to the smallest motions.
At this time the weather was threatening to change for the worse, and giant thunder clouds were looming and racing towards us from the West. The sky was darkening and the crowds began to disperse, heading back into the city's cover. Dry executions were fun to watch. Wet ones were somewhat less attractive.
We prayed to the Lord to end the suffering of all the condemned as quickly as possible.
'I'll give myself to the guards. I'll do anything to end his suffering.' said Salome, 'just so long as they will end his torment.' and before we could react she had stood up and walked away, straight to the group of soldiers to offer 'anything' to the supervising decurion if he could end Yeshu's suffering either accidentally or deliberately.
Maram and Mary shouted, called her back and Maram jumped up and made to go to her, but Mary and I held and pleaded with her. Mary slapped her face hard.
'They'll kill you!' She shouted at Maram,'They'll use you and kill you! What use will that do?'
Mary vowed never to let her go, clutching at her clothing, but Maram insisted that she did not care what happened as long as Yeshu's agony should be ended as soon as possible. After a brief struggle she gave up and stayed with us, but none of us had been quick enough or had dared to race forward and drag Salome back for fear that we might be identified.
We had watched as that brave woman, Yeshu's true and brave follower, had pushed past a soldier who moved forward to stop her, walked straight up to the seated soldiers and kneeled by one of them. They talked at length, and I watched her place a hand on his forearm as she spoke.
I have no idea what she said, or promised. But he leaned forward and kissed her upon the cheek. He then sent her to sit a little distance off. But at this time a well dressed man stepped out of the crowd and approached the same soldier and spoke earnestly with him.
'That man!' Mary recognised him....'That is Joseph! Yeshua healed his mother's leg pains.' . She told me that the man was a wealthy merchant from Arimathea, a town just to the south of the Samarian border wth Judea. He sat upon the Sanhedrin Court and was a trader in metals, owning several ships based up the coast in Tyre and Sidon. And he was a friend of Yeshua's.