Creative Writing: A Separate Peace

A collective sigh of relief echoes through the room. Two more well-known disciples enter. Jonathan and Cleopas relax, and in the privacy at their own small table, they continue their quiet conversation.
Jonathan knows what worries him. “Has it occurred to you, my friend, we may be hunted down for a crime we didn’t commit?”
On hearing the word crime, Cleopas’ forehead creases. “What crime, brother? Explain. We have done nothing wrong.”
Jonathan looks around not wanting to share his thoughts with anyone else. “The women who went to the tomb saw it empty. Agreed?”
Cleopas jumps in quickly with, “You cannot believe this is true? It is but a reaction from distraught women.” “I’m not so sure,” Jonathan adds thoughtfully, leaning back against
the wall. “Peter and John left to see the tomb for themselves. We will know more when they return. I would not be surprised if they also find the tomb empty.”
Cleopas stares again at Jonathan, “I am amazed, my friend, you would consider Jesus being alive. Together we watched the crucifixion. Did we not see his limp body hang from his nailed wrists? Did not his eyes roll up toward heaven at his last breath? Did you not see the Roman soldier spear him through his side? Did I not feel pain when Jesus’ mother cradled his lifeless body? Had we not followed the corpse to the stone grave? What is wrong with Jonathan?
“Consider this,” Jonathan says, interrupting Cleopas’ thoughts. “If the tomb is empty, like the women say; where did the body go?
“Then you believe Mary Magdalene saw Jesus alive?” Cleopas asks.
“I believe Mary Magdalene saw somebody, perhaps the gardener or someone she thought looked like Jesus. The mind can play tricks on the heartsick. No, I don’t believe Jesus is walking around dead. However, what if there is another explanation for an empty tomb.”
“What?”
“What if the Temple police, cooperating with the Romans, opened the tomb and took the body?” His small mouth opens and his throat constricts; Cleopas struggles to take a deep breath. “Why? For what purpose?” He asks, beard hairs sliding quickly between his thumb and forefinger.
“To bring charges against Jesus’ followers, including you and me.”
“I don’t understand.”
Jonathan, coming closer to Cleopas’ face, whispers, “With the body gone they can declare Jesus’ followers removed it to say he rose from the dead. Then they can declare us grave robbers, a crime punishable by death.”
Cleopas begins a fear-induced wheeze. “We can’t be killed.” Jonathan continues defiantly. “If Jesus’ work is to continue, the men and women in this room must survive.”
Cleopas likes that thought. It sounds like Jonathan has a plan. His breathing returns to near normal.
“Listen to me,” Jonathan continues. “We can’t stay in this room much longer.” Cleopas listens, pinching hairs on his cheek as nervousness begins to rise once again.
“Romans have ways of finding things out. They will eventually know of this place we hide in, and who is here. There are just too many ways of learning our whereabouts. We’re having food brought in. They could follow the bearers. People leave this room for countless reasons; any one of them could be recognized and shadowed. People living around this house are bound to notice our comings and goings. The risks are too great. Eventually we will be discovered and arrested.”
Jonathon becomes quiet; his thoughts return to the last night of Jesus’ life.
It’s still fresh in his mind, festering like an open wound. The pain in his soul throbs when his memory drifts to what he witnessed. Over two hundred Roman soldiers and Temple police, torches blazing, marched through the dark and deserted streets. I would normally give them a wide berth and leave by another route.
Then I saw him. The man at the head of the military column was someone I knew, Judas Iscariot. I never liked Judas. There are people you can just look at and know something about them is not right. He is one of those, and leading a maniple of soldiers. Something dreadful was going to happen to Jesus. I just knew it.
Where was Jesus? Could he still be in the upper room with his apostles, eating the Passover? I felt jealous then; I feel jealous now. I wanted to be at that dinner. I knew well the house where they ate. Its owner is one of my closest friends. Arriving there, I hammered the door, shouting for entry. My friend opened the door with sleep still hanging on his face I already had my answer. Jesus was not there.
“Jonathan? What do you want this late?” My friend had asked.
“Is Jesus still here?” Yet, I knew the answer before I asked the
question.
“No. They all left. I think they went to the garden. Why? What’s wrong?”
“Jesus is in danger, I said without further explanations.”
“What?”
I threw off my cumbersome cloak and raced through the cold, deserted streets of Jerusalem. It wasn’t a long distance to the eastern gate and beyond to the olive garden, where Jesus often went. I knew the way. I ran quickly, praying I would be in time.
Frantically, I stumbled through the small door next to the huge gate used for beast-delivered commerce. The steepness of a tree clustered slope caused me to slide toward the valley below. I grabbed an exposed tree root, stopping my descent. What I saw made me immediately scurry to an aged olive tree. There I hid behind its trunk.
Two soldiers might have heard me. They looked up toward where I was hiding. In a moment, they dismissed the possibility and turned back to their duties. Many torches lit the scene playing out in the garden below. I strained to hear, yet couldn’t. I witnessed Judas place a kiss on the cheek of Jesus. It strangled my heart like a cold dead hand.
Then Jesus said something to him, but I couldn’t hear. The scene changed rapidly. Jesus said something to the Roman commander, but again I couldn’t hear.
Then, Peter moved in front of Jesus. He pulled a sword. No! Peter! There are too many, I mentally shouted.
Peter struck one. The man howled and cursed.
Jesus bent down and touched the bloody face.
I thought about rushing down to help.
The soldiers pulled their swords and grabbed everyone.
Jesus shouted at them, I have told you, I am he. If I am the one you are looking for, let these others go.
They did. They tied Jesus’ hands and let the others g, who then ran quickly into the night.
What could I do? There were so many soldiers and I was all alone. I could do nothing. It was too late; I was too late.
I followed the Master throughout the night, watching, waiting for a way to rescue him. Even when he was on the cross, I never fully gave up trying. Until, that is, I heard my Lord say, it is finished. I cried, softly at first, sobbing soon afterwards.
Today it’s all settling in. Only now do I fully realize Jesus is dead and I will never see him again. Cleopas studying the planks of the bare wood table thoughtfully agrees with Jonathan’s analysis. Staying here, in this room, is too risky. Then looking from side to side, he whispers, “I agree, Jesus is dead, but what shall we do now?”
“The right thing to do would be for all to leave and scatter throughout the city,” Jonathan suggests quickly. “But I don’t expect that will happen. Perhaps just the two of us should go.”
“Go? Go where, Jonathan? There is danger out there.”
“You are correct. There are no safe places in Jerusalem. We will leave the city together, just the two of us, and find a new place for this group to meet. Where I’m thinking is a long journey from here, and hopefully too far for the Temple authorities. I think we should go to Emmaus.
“Emmaus?” A puzzled Cleopas thinks about it while Jonathan continues with his plan.
“There we can wait. Somehow, we will know what to do…, somehow. Perhaps a sign will come from God. You and I will find a secure place for Jesus’ community of followers to meet. I know we will find it in Emmaus.”
“I see what you are saying,” Cleopas agrees. “Then we can transport everyone out of Jerusalem slowly, in groups of twos and threes.”
“Yes,” Jonathan adds, “We should be protected enough when everyone is in Emmaus, yet close enough to Jerusalem to continue worship in the temple. We will be able to further the teachings of Jesus, just more quietly. In Emmaus, we will be free to organize and teach without fear.”
Cleopas smiles.
The decision made, they decide to discuss the arrangements with everyone in the upper room.
Jonathan stands and pounds the table for their attention. “Listen to me, followers of Jesus. Listen! Please! Today is a very strange day. Jesus’s tomb was reported empty.”
Everyone in the Upper Room is anxious for a leader, and in the absence of Peter, Jonathan takes on the role. “Does anyone believe Jesus has actually risen from the dead, like Lazarus? Personally, I think it could happen, for anything is possible with God. Lazarus is alive today after being dead for three days. Jesus raised Lazarus. However, Jesus can’t be alive to raise his own dead body. Therefore, if Jesus is alive, then Almighty God would have raised him up. So consider this question. Has Jesus’s enemies taken his body?” The question startles many in the room.
They have not considered the possibility, but realize the consequences.
“What I believe is most important is we, his followers, must survive; if only to spread his words, his teachings and tell people about his life and, yes, even his death. How we will tell the world, I do not know. All we have left is our memories. No matter what else, we must survive.
“All of us here are followers of Jesus and many people know it. Presently, we are safe here in this upper room, but not for long. Our need to leave this room from time to time exposes us to discovery. Our very presence in these numbers betrays us. Eventually, the Romans will arrest us. The Temple authorities will bring us before Pilate.”
Jonathan pauses. “Cleopas and I have a plan. We are searching for a new meeting place away from Jerusalem. Where we are going you shall not know now, for if the Temple authorities come, you will not be able to say where our new meeting place is located. With God’s blessings, we will return three days hence. When Peter returns, tell him of our intentions. All should remain hidden here. Keep silent and stay in the shadows. Pray to the Lord for our safety and success on this
journey.”