The Day at Golgotha

I’ve made a mistake. A robbery that went wrong. You see, my brother and I took many riches from our master. We were supposed to give it to our families. As we were stealing right under our master’s noses, I remembered a commandment. Thou shalt not steal. Would Adonai punish me for doing this? My brother did not listen to reason. We were caught. Our master killed my brother Haim, right before me. I dropped the coins and allowed them to fall to the floor.

“Why, you dirty, Jews!”

The new rug is now stained with his blood. I put my hands up in fear. I had a family. I did not want to be killed this way.

***

My master took me into the hands of Rome, his people. I sat in prison, hoping they’d spare me, but knowing I would not be. I had stolen from a Roman. Not just any Roman, a high-ranking one. There was a small window in my cell, which allowed me to see only the feet of those who unknowingly passed by. I could hear men screaming outside. I didn’t need to look outside to know Pilate had ordered another crucifixion. It was only a matter of time before they would nail my hands and feet. I know surely not even Adonai will show me kindness for this mistake.

***

I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Days. Weeks. Months. I stopped counting a while ago. Maybe Adonai has shown me mercy so that I may die in my cell. There are other prisoners here. Many of them moan, but no one asks Adonai for mercy, not even the zealots. The zealots are no worse than I. Jews come and go, only leaving their blood behind. Down here, all that matters is your crime. You are not a person, but a punishment, a warning to the rest of the Jews.

***

I was taken out of my cell and whipped. The whip had sharp edges along it, and every time I was struck with it, I could feel it tearing apart my skin. Soon, they would throw me back into my cell and start the process over tomorrow. They always did that with the prisoners before their crucifixion. I was to be crucified with two men, a zealot and another thief.

***

I woke up to the sound of shouting. Suddenly, I was thrust back and beaten in my own cell before I was whipped in front of my people. The other thief was, too. Along with the zealot. I could hear the crowd shouting once again.

“Whom do you want me to release for you: Barabbas, or Jesus who is called Christ?”

Jesus? Wasn’t that the man who did all those miracles? Why was he here?

“Barabbas!” My people cried out.

The guards picked me back up. They laid me onto a piece of wood and took out rusty long nails. The first hit was on my left, to which I cried out in pain. The second was my right. The nails dug into my skin deeper than the whip had. My whole body ached.

Adonai, have mercy on me!

I prayed, but I knew that it was too late for mercy. They took me up and placed me across from the other thief. The guards left us to bleed out. There was nothing. I’m going to die here. What about my wife, Dina, and my children, Isamel, Mary, and Salome? Do they know where I lie now? Will they think well of me? What about Haim’s wife and children? Surely, Adonai will not punish our children for our crimes. He will have mercy on them. He will protect our families, even Adonai cares for the widows and fatherless.

***

I wake to the sound of screaming. They are to crucify another man. Surely, my eyes have deceived me. Jesus of Nazareth was put beside me, instead of the zealot. The other men taunted and mocked him.

“Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do,” he spoke, softly.

I couldn’t believe my hears. He even forgave his enemies. The same men who put him up here.

“He saved others; let him save himself, if he is the Christ of God, his Chosen One!” People scoffed below us.

Jesus did nothing, gave them no acknowledgement. I don’t understand why he doesn’t rebuke them.

“If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” Roman guards shouted.

“He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the King of Israel; let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him,” a Pharisee scoffed.

“He trusts in God; let God deliver him now. For he said, ‘I am the Son of God,” mocked the religious leaders.

He looked up at the sky but still did not reply to them. Maybe he is the Christ. Any lesser man would not forgive these men so easily.

“Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” The other thief cried.

“Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” I pause, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

Adonai, please have mercy on me.

“Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise,” Jesus told me.

Thank you, Adonai. You are good to me. You have sent this man into a world of sinners to give new life.

***

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Jesus cried out.

“He is crying out to Elijah,” stated some bystanders.

“Let us see if Elijah answers his call,” some snickered.

My eyes grew weary, and my body had already given up. The wind howled, and the sky darkened. Adonai himself drew angry winds at the people below us. I took a shuddering breath. I lost the feeling in my body, and most of my blood now stained the ground. I closed my eyes.

“It is finished.”

Those were the last words I heard.

***

I opened my eyes to angelic singing. A bright light shone in my face.

“Malachai.”

“Yes, Lord?”

I turned around. I couldn’t believe my eyes.