The Gospel According to the Son

29

I was coming to comprehend that one must enter the darkness that lives beneath every radiance of spirit. And I wished to open my apostles to such a truth. I told them of a dream that had visited me each night for seven nights; it was a dream that the Son of Man would go to Jerusalem and be denied by the High Priest and be crucified.

On hearing it, my disciples said, "No, you will live forever. And we will live with you."

Then I knew why darkness lies close to exaltation. If they loved me, it was for my power to work miracles, not because I might teach them to love others. They wished to preach like me, but only to increase their own power, not to preach with love. So I rebuked them, saying: "You savor not the things that be of God but the things that be of men." In the silence that followed these words, the dream was upon me again.

"If I am killed, I will rise again after three days," I said. But I did not know if I spoke the truth.

I looked into their eyes to see if their souls were open. For at just this moment, the miracle of faith would be present or would not. In their eyes I saw no more than a heaviness of spirit. It was the heaviness that speaks of concern for oneself. I had wanted to drive them toward faith, but now I realized that I, too, was not acting out of love for others but was looking for power to convince them. So I sighed at the intricacy of the heart. And they sighed after me, as if we all knew how close we had come to truth yet also knew how far away we were.

On another day, not long after, I wanted to be close to Peter and to James and to John. Had I not begun my ministry with them? So I chose to lead them up into a high mountain, and we were there by ourselves. A cloud followed. And I knew that a cloud like this had been overhead in the hour when Moses raised his tabernacle on Mount Sinai, and the cloud had descended to cover the altar.

In that time, the children of Israel had been in the desert for forty years. At each place where the cloud came to rest, they had pitched their tents. And they only moved when a stirring of the cloud told them to take up their journey again.

Here were we, at rest beneath another cloud, and Peter said, "Master, let us make three tabernacles: for you, for Moses, and for Elijah."

Straightaway, he built them. The cloud above us did not move, and the sky was without sun. Yet my raiment was shining. It seemed to be as brilliant as the light that must surround the souls of the just. Then I saw Elijah. He was standing beside me. Next to him was Moses.

I said to my three apostles, "What do you see?"

Peter answered, "I see nothing; he who sees God will surely die."

At that moment a flame rose from the first tabernacle, and Peter said: "You are the Christ."

I shook my head. Even at this moment, I could not be certain. Once more I told Peter of my dream: I must go into Jerusalem, and there I would die. But how could death come to the Son of the Lord of Jerusalem?

Peter said: "Put it far from thee, Lord." He would not accept my dream. If Satan could disguise himself as an angel of light, why could he not also come before me as Peter? So I said to him, "Get thee behind me, Satan."

Tears came to his eyes. I knew then that I still felt a great urge to come closer to these apostles. And of them all, Peter would be the first. I wanted Peter to know the beauty that was in his soul. As I thought this, the power of God rose in me and the terror of my dream was lessened.

Yet I could not keep the Lord's power for long. As we walked down the mountain, Peter and James and John fell into dispute on who would become the greatest among them. Perhaps they believed my dream after all and so were thinking of who could replace me. I was silent until we returned to Capernaum. Then I gathered my twelve and said: "If any of you is filled with the desire to be first, know that he shall be last."

At that moment, as if I had called for a fine example to show just such a difference, a young man came up to us and knelt before my feet and asked, "Good Master, what shall I do? How may I inherit eternal life? I have observed all the Commandments from my youth."

In his eyes I saw that he had a desire to please, and so I said (and this was also uttered for my apostles): "Sell what you have, and give to the poor. Then you will have treasure in heaven."

But the young man was not happy; he confessed that he had many possessions and was loath to lose them. I said: "Many sons and daughters of Abraham are living in filth and dying of hunger. Your house is full. How much goes to them?"

He went away.

I remarked to my disciples, "How hard it is for the rich to enter the Kingdom of Heaven!" But some of my people now murmured unhappily. I said: "Children, it is painful to trust in riches. You will learn that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven." They were astonished, saying among themselves, "Who, then, can be saved?" And one of them, whose face was hidden by the others, muttered, "God enriches those He trusts. Why else is there high regard for wealth?" Another said, "If not the rich, who can be saved?"

I said, "No man can be saved if he counts his money." At which point Peter would remind me: "We have left everyone to follow you."

Now I had to tell myself that my disciples were but men, and lived among small passions; they were no better, and no worse, than other men. All the same, this dispute among my apostles over who came first had left me rigid with wrath. I said to them: "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." They did not hear the mockery in my voice.

No, they liked this saying. Had I discovered the largest passion among my men? To be forgiven their debts? It was clear that they would not be equally forgiving to the debts owed them.

I had been looking for an army of men whose souls were so pure that they would need no swords. Instead, I had gathered a few followers who argued among themselves over who would sit to the right of me and who would be first when I was gone. So many miracles, so little gain.

I could know each one of my disciples by looking into his eyes, but each had eyes that changed by the hour; discontent licked at the edge of their loyalty. Did the great wrath of my Father come from knowing that His chosen people might be more loyal to Satan than to Him?

In my dream on this night, I heard one angel say: "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son. Whoever believes in Him shall have everlasting life. For God did not send His son to condemn the world but to save it."

How I hoped that the angel spoke truth! For then I would be like a light sent into the world. Yet men seemed to love darkness more than light. I awoke, then, in confusion. For I did not know whether I was here to save the world or to be condemned by the world. Each night I heard a command in my sleep, but the voice was my own; it was there to tell me that I must leave these lands where people waited to touch my garment and go instead among the proud of Jerusalem; I must enter the halls of the Great Temple, even if my days would then be numbered by the fingers of one hand.

I thought of how King Herod had wished to kill me. What a bloody creature was man. The wrath of my enemies was like the heat of hell-fire.

No matter how, I knew that I must lead my followers to the Great Temple, and suffer what would await me there. And I must do this soon, even if there was no time of year less auspicious. For Passover approached. Jews from all of Judea and Galilee would be coming to Jerusalem. In truth, no one of us Jews could forget that this feast was in memory of our flight from Egypt. To find a new land, we had wandered in the wilderness for forty years. Yet when we were there at last, we thrived. Later, through our sins, we lost it. Now Romans ruled over us. In many years, there had been riots of the Jews against the Romans at the time of Passover, large riots. No time could be more perilous for entering Jerusalem than now. The memory of the glory that had been lost was with all of us.