God is about to be betrayed.

Judas Iscariot, the man whose very name has become a universal  synonym for “traitor”, is about to rat out the Son of God.

The chief priests and the teachers of the law—the guardians of what is sacred—are going to sneak in under cover of darkness and try to execute the God they serve.



The day begins auspiciously enough.  Passover, a Jewish holiday, is approaching; the Jews are preparing to celebrate the great day all those years ago when God rescued them from slavery at the hands of the Egyptians.  Jesus, in His typically magical way, provides accommodations for the Twelve to celebrate Passover—a contact appears out of nowhere with resources for them to freely use.  Jesus’ conversation at dinner is rather dark, however—he talks of suffering, speaks of imminent change, and introduces a strange ceremony that the Disciples will come to treasure.  The Disciples are probably rather worried at this point, but Jesus has been speaking of His own demise almost since they met Him, and the events to come are quite literally beyond their imagination.  Then Jesus starts to give specifics and comes forth with the horrifying announcement that one of them is about to betray him.  The Disciples still don’t get it, however, and break into a childish argument about which of them is “top dog”.  Jesus breaks up the argument and gives his students a few last words of guidance before they leave for their customary stroll to the Mount of Olives.

Jesus knows what is coming.  He knows with all the terrible horror of omniscience the pain he will be going through in the next few hours.  After separating himself a few yards from His friends, He collapses onto his knees in fervent prayer to His Father not to let this happen, while at the same time submitting Himself to the Father’s will.  The intensity of this prayer is such that Jesus is actually sweating blood.  And when He rises and returns to His Disciples, He finds them all collapsed in sleep!  Jesus rouses His friends and starts to berate them, but the chief priests choose that moment to strike.

The Disciples are probably a bit confused at this point.  Drowsy from sleep, they see a crowd approach their leader, lead by one of their own number.  Judas, their friend, the treasurer of their company and one of their most trusted, approaches Jesus, who says to him: “Judas, are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?”

All Jesus said during dinner about His betrayal comes flooding back into their minds.  Several of them instantly go into adrenaline overload as they jump to their feet, asking Jesus for permission to strike.  Peter the Trigger-Happy skips the “permission” part and swings at the High Priest, who dodges and lets his servant take the hit.  Jesus quickly defuses the situation, however, and allows Himself to be led away to trial.

Heaven knows what’s going through the heads of the disciples at this point.  There’s probably at least as many emotions swirling around as there are disciples.  None of them, though, make any move to break Jesus out, which is obviously in accordance with His wishes.  Most of them, scared and confused, are content to watch the drama unfold without affiliating themselves with a criminal.

Jesus sits in the house of the High Priest and watches his accusers wonder what to do next.  Outside He hears His loyal disciple deny Him three times in a row and flashes a look at Peter that makes the man cry.

A big downside to omniscience is that you know in gruesome detail every nasty thing that will happen to you for the rest of your life.  Under normal circumstances, this allows you to go around the bumps instead of driving through them like the rest of us, but it also gives you a lifetime to brace yourself for that which can’t be avoided.  Now starts the experience Jesus has been dreading.  Jesus’ guards decide to have some fun at His expense, and bruises start appearing all over His body.  Jesus, the Son of God, is blinded, beaten, mocked, and ridiculed by those He created from nothing.  This continues into the night.

The next morning, Jesus is confronted by the leaders of the chief priests and the teachers of the law.  Unable to scrape together any solid evidence against him, they resort to questioning Him.  Jesus gives His usual cryptic answers.  Finally they ask Him straight out: “Are you the Son of God?”  Jesus hands it to them on a silver platter and answers in the affirmative, and off they go to the Romans.

If they could, the chief priests would probably just lynch Jesus themselves, but the Romans won’t allow that—executions have to be official if the Priests want to stay out of hot water themselves.  So they take Jesus to Pilate, the local Roman official, make up a few offenses, and demand the death penalty.  Pilate, however, wasn’t born yesterday and asks to see some evidence, which Jesus’ accusers happen to be short on.  Finally they mention that Jesus is a Galilean; Pilate realizes that this is outside his jurisdiction and hands Jesus off to Herod, the official in charge of upper Israel.  Herod is delighted, hoping for Jesus to perform some tricks like a traveling magician; when Jesus fails to deliver, Herod sends Him back to Pilate with a thank-you note.  (Thus, without saying a single word, Jesus forges a friendship between two politicians.)

Pilate isn’t quite sure what to make of the position he’s in.  To the best of his knowledge, Jesus is as innocent as any man that’s ever stepped before him.  Jesus’ opponents, however, are powerful in the extreme—people it would behoove him to ingratiate himself with.  Pilate politically opts for the compromise position—he decides to “punish him and then release him”.  Hopefully, he thinks, after these people have seen a little blood and watched Jesus thrash under the whip a bit, their anger will abate.

But the priests are not satisfied.  The scene seems almost supernatural: a frenzied lynch mob screaming for the death of the most innocent man the world has ever seen, and demanding the release of a convicted criminal instead.  Pilate hesitates, and once again appeals to the crowd for any remnant of sympathy they may still have for this Jesus.  None can be found.  The mob is shouting for crucifixion—the most painful death the Roman penal system can devise.  Pilate is appalled, and asks once more what this man has done to deserve their wrath.  He resolves to continue his plan to have Jesus whipped and then released.  But that’s not good enough for the priests: the most carnal human emotions, seen since the dawn of humanity when Cain first looked sideways at Abel, have been whipped into a frenzy.  Pilate realizes that the mob won’t be satisfied until their demands are met, and, fearing for his own position, he acquiesces.  Jesus is released to the mob.

Now insane with hatred and rage, the superheated cluster of humanity drags the Son of God to the top of a hill, pounds nails through His wrists, and hangs Him up on a cross to die.  He is surrounded by mockers, criminals, accusers, and Romans, all screaming abuse at Him at the top of their lungs.

Jesus is quiet at the heart of the storm.  He is heard to forgive His accusers, even as they kill Him.  A criminal, crucified alongside Him, becomes a disciple even as he lies dying on the cross.  But Jesus is going through the painful process of accepting all the guilt, all the shame, all the punishment of every evil act, deed, and thought ever committed.  Every murder, every rape, every little white lie that anyone anywhere has ever done or will do in ten thousand years of history is being charged to His account.  Darkness comes over the earth.  For three hours the sun does not shine.  Finally Jesus cries, “Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit” and dies.

Hours pass.  Jesus’ body is taken down, perfumed, wrapped, and buried.  The earth sleeps.  All is quiet—something utterly unlike anything previously known has happened, and the world is unsure how to react.  Fortunately there is not long to wait.  Dawn is coming.