I, Judas the 5th Gospel
Copyright © 2012 Bob Mayer
445 Ridge Springs Drive
Chapel Hill, NC 27516
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance of fictional characters to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author and publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
ISBN 978-1-935712-93-0
I, Judas
The 5
th
Gospel
By Bob Mayer
Jerusalem: 33 A.D.
“In very truth I tell you, one of you is going to betray me.” Jesus looked about the room at the twelve disciples gathered around the table. His eyes did not pause on any one person, and he ignored the cries of protest from several.
Jesus stood at one end of the narrow table, six of his followers on either side, all staring at him, almost all surprised by his pronouncement. All but one. The man who sat to Jesus’s right was silent, his face impassive.
It was early evening, the last rays of the sun cutting across the room through the high windows set in the brick wall. The room where they were dining was built along the side of an inn at the base of the Mount of Olives. The smell of the meal permeated the air. The sounds of the family that ran the inn echoed into the room, mixing with the noise of passersby in the street outside heading home for their own late meals. It was Passover and there were many more people in Jerusalem than normal.
Jesus leaned forward, the slight movement causing all to fall silent. It was his presence that had drawn most of the Apostles to him from the very beginning. None had ever been around a man who commanded such implicit attention. His skin was dark from both birth and sun, his short beard prematurely tinged with gray. His hair was also cut short, tight to his skull. His eyes were dark, and those who felt their gaze sensed that he could see into their very essence.
Jesus’s voice was low but easily carried over the background noise. “Until now I have been using figures of speech; there will be a time, the Second Coming, when I will return and shall no longer use figures, but tell you of the Father in plain words.”
Frowns creased the brows of most in the room; except, once again, the man to Jesus’s right who nodded ever so slightly, as if he perfectly understood the cryptic statement. He was similar in appearance to Jesus, with short black hair, dark skin, and a trimmed beard. He had a gnarled scar above his right eye from a cut that had mended poorly years ago.
As if he had made all totally clear, Jesus promptly sat down. He ignored the questions that came his way, focusing on finishing the remainder of his meal. The Apostles were used to this—the way their master would just withdraw at times, as if he had expended his energy and needed to build it back up. The world, and those in it, would cease to exist for him. He had been doing it more and more lately.
Several began bickering, arguing over the meaning of their master’s words, another thing that was growing more and more common as Jesus said less and less. As he picked up the last morsel of food, Jesus glanced to his right. “Eat, Judas. You will need your strength.”
Judas leaned close so that only Jesus could hear. “We should talk.”
“We’ve talked.” Jesus raised a single finger, silencing the other man. “And there is no choice. It is as
our
Father has decreed.”
To forestall any more argument, Jesus stood once more, a cup of wine in his hand. The room fell silent. Jesus held the cup up in toast, to what the others could only guess, as he said nothing, and then placed it to his lips and quickly drained it. He put it down on the table, a little too forcefully, the echo of metal on wood reverberating through the room.
“Who will betray you, Master?” Peter asked the question that was on the minds of almost all of the Apostles. “Tell us and we will guard you.”
“There are many types of betrayal. The worst of all is when you betray yourself.” Jesus picked up his cloak from the back of his chair and walked to the door. “I’m going to the garden.” And then he was gone into the darkening evening.
The startled twelve gathered their own possessions and followed him. They walked through the narrow stone streets, Jesus silent and in the lead, the twelve following and arguing amongst themselves, all save Judas who was last in the column of disciples. He moved slowly, shoulders slumped as if bearing a great weight. He didn’t talk with any of the others, which was not unusual. He had always been a bit distant from the rest of the followers, yet, surprisingly, he was the one in whom Jesus confided most. And he had been at Jesus’s side before any of the others. The first Apostle.
Jesus passed through an opening in a wall of loose stone and then between two rows of hedges, into the Garden of Gethsemane. The garden was on the western slope of the Mount of Olives, a quiet oasis among the bustle of the city on the eve of Passover. It was a place they had been to numerous times before, as it was Jesus who would go there to get away from the crowds that besieged him during the day. In concert with the fewer words spoken, he was going to the garden more and more lately.
They wound their way to a small clearing where several large stones were scattered. Upon which several of the weary Apostles promptly sat. It had been a very long day that did not look like it was going to end any time soon. In addition to Jesus’s cryptic words, there was an unsettled feeling in the pungent air of the city. Rumors were rampant about the Romans, the Pharisees, the High Priests and the many other groups that made up the city’s human mass. Rumors were common in Jerusalem, but lately there were more than anyone living could remember. And most of the rumors had something to do with Jesus.
There were those who wanted to use him as a figurehead for a revolt against the Romans, a course of action that those close to Jesus knew he would never be part of, although some still urged him to reconsider. Those in power saw him as a threat to the established order of things. Many saw him as a false prophet and others believed he was the long-promised Messiah. Passions brewed.
Judas did not sit, but stood on the opposite side of the clearing from Jesus. Beyond the clearing was a small stone grotto where Jesus liked to go alone and meditate. They expected him to leave them, but as he reached the entrance to the grotto, Jesus turned to face the twelve.
“You will desert me this night. Like sheep, you will scatter. But you will come together again after my resurrection.”
Peter sprang to his feet in protest. “Even though all doubt you and fail you, Lord, I will never fail you.”
A slight smile crept across Jesus’s face because Peter had focused on the first sentence of what he had said and not the last, which was of much more importance. “Before the cock crows with the rising sun, you will deny knowing me,” Jesus told Peter. “I am going to pray,” he added as he turned to the grotto.
As soon as Jesus was gone, intense debate raged among the disciples. Unnoticed, Judas slipped through the men and followed Jesus. He found Jesus standing underneath an olive tree, looking up through the leaves and branches at the stars overhead. In one hand, Jesus held a small black stone, which he was tumbling through his fingers from pinkie to thumb and back again. He had had the stone as long as Judas had known him. The surface was worn smooth from years of being tumbled through his fingers.
“You should do it soon,” Jesus said.
“There is no other way?”
Jesus took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I wish there was, my brother. However, we knew it would not be easy. Words are not enough. There must be action. Action that people will remember. Otherwise the words will fade from memory.”
“They
will
remember if we do this,” Judas said bitterly. “And it is I who will have to bear the pressures of those memories long beyond what anyone should have to.”
“Would you switch places with me?”
Judas looked up sharply, and then shook his head. “That cannot be.”
Jesus nodded. “I know. It is as it was meant to be.”
“You go to a better place.”
“My suffering will be deep but brief,” Jesus said. “Yours will be shallow but long.” He tossed the stone to Judas. “As our Father has foretold, it will be for you to bear witness for the Second Coming.”
“How long will that be?” Judas asked, not expecting an answer. He looked at the black stone in his palm. “Will the world ever really be ready for that?”
“That is why we are going to do this. That is the entire purpose of everything we have given our lives to.” Jesus took another deep breath. He walked to Judas and wrapped his arms around him. “You have my love.”
“And you mine,” Judas replied.
Jesus glanced over toward the other side of the garden. There was a woman standing there, a shadow in the darkness. “You will take care of her?”
Judas followed his gaze and nodded. “Of course.”
“And the burden and hope she bears?”
“Yes.”
Jesus touched his chest, then his head as he spoke. “Heart and mind.”
Judas repeated the gesture as he echoed the words. “Heart and mind.”
“Until we meet again,” Jesus said.
“Until we meet again.”
“Go now, my brother.”
The Final Day Terminal Impact= in 4 Hours
From the 5
th
Gospel: Judas: 1:1 In the beginning, the Voice of God was heard inside our heads, our First Consciousness being an empty vessel. And the Voice told us: You Do This.
The Mato Grasso Region of the Amazon
“I, Judas, bear true witness to many of the events that have been recorded in the New Testament, for I saw and heard much of it with my own eyes and ears.” The man who uttered these words looked up from the barrels of the guns pointed at him. Judas smiled at the two men who held the weapons. A woman stood between them, not pointing a weapon. “Would you like to know more? For I have walked this planet for over two thousand years. Surely that is a story worth putting off killing me for a bit? At least until after we share a meal? Please be seated.”
The man known in history as the Great Betrayer sat on a bench at a long table of finely worked wood. It was set in the center of a small clearing between massive kopak trees. There was about a twenty-meter circle of open sky above. A stream of clear water ran close by, tumbling into a river not far away. Over the tops of the surrounding towering trees, white-capped mountains were off to the west. Set among the roots of the trees, like growths amongst the wooden knees, were numerous small huts, but there was no sign of those who inhabited the buildings. Even the jungle that surrounded them was quiet as if all the creatures that normally made a steady din had gone silent to listen to what Judas had to say.