The Redeemer (21 page)
“Why did we have to come up here?” Peter asked. “He could have prayed just as well down below.”
“You’re the rock, you tell us.” John never quite got over Peter’s promotion.
“Hush, the both of you,” James interrupted. “Something’s happening. Look at Him!”
All at once, Jesus’ face began to change. It glowed, and His clothes became white, almost iridescent. Peter, James, and John had never seen anything like this, but I had. I was with Moses on the mountain the day when the glory of the Lord descended on him, and his face became so bright he had to cover it with a veil so that the people could stand to look at him.
“Look at that!” John said as the three of them huddled a little closer together. Suddenly two other men, also in radiant splendor, were standing beside Jesus. The disciples backed over me in their hurry to move a safe distance away.
“Who are they?” asked Peter.
“I don’t know,” the two said in unison.
“I know! I know!” I jumped up and down. “It’s Moses and Elijah!”
I confess I didn’t know Elijah personally. By the time he came along, I was in my done-with-Israel stage and missed the age of the prophets pretty much altogether. After David died, I expected Israel to make giant leaps forward, hastening the time when their Messiah would come. When they lapsed back into their old, predictable cycle—sin, defeat, repent, regroup—I’d seen it so many times I figured I could just as well write my reports (which Satan didn’t read anyway) without actually going back to the earth, so I didn’t. Elijah was already famous by the time I paid any attention to him, and shortly after that he disappeared altogether, so we were never formally introduced.
But Moses was a different story. We spent forty years together crossing the desert with the rescued slaves from Egypt, which I don’t mind telling you was no easy task for either of us. We were war buddies and comrades in arms. I jumped up and ran toward him.
“Moses! Moses!” I cried out. “I’m so glad to see you again. Remember me? I’m…”
I stopped before saying another word. Moses didn’t know my name. No one did. I was so humiliated by the foolish and tragic mistake I’d made by getting myself thrown out of heaven with Lucifer. When I began to write my diary, I promised myself that no one would ever know who I was. I don’t suppose it mattered, since Moses didn’t seem to recognize me anyway.
Jesus was happy to see them. He gave each of them a hug.
“The time is near,” Jesus said. “My work here is almost finished.”
“And Your disciples,” Moses asked as he looked over the quaking heap the three had become as they clung together frightened out of their minds, “are they ready?”
“They don’t look ready,” Elijah said.
Ready for what?
“I know at first glance they don’t inspire much confidence,” Jesus sighed, “and I’m certain they’ll fall apart when they see all I’ve told them coming to pass. It will be a long three days, but if they can last through it, they’ll pull themselves together in the end. I promised My Father I wouldn’t lose any of them.”
“Just as long as You know what You’ve got to work with,” Elijah added. “I don’t see anything close to Joshua’s or Elisha’s caliber.”
“Any second thoughts?” Moses asked.
“The accounts have to be settled, unless you know another way to do it.”
“No, if there were any other way, Your Father would have commanded it.”
It appeared the two patriarchs might be about to leave when Peter suddenly grabbed John and James by the arms and shook them.
“I know who they are! It’s Moses and Elijah!”
“You can’t be sure,” James said.
“I tell you it’s them. Watch and see.”
Peter jumped up and ran as close to them as he dared and knelt down before Jesus.
“Wait, Master, don’t let them go. This is a great moment. Let us build three memorials; one for You, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
While he was speaking, a cloud appeared and covered all of them, but not me. I was as scared as they were and wished I had the nerve to enter with them, but when I heard the voice speak from the cloud, I decided to hide instead.
“This is My Son. Listen to Him.”
The cloud lifted, and Jesus was alone. When He saw how terrified Peter, James, and John were, He smiled and stretched His arms out to them. They ran to His embrace. Not wanting to be left out, I squirmed my way in between Peter and John.
“Time to go,” Jesus said and headed back down the mountain.
“I’ll admit it,” James said in a low voice. “When Judas confronted Him, I wondered if he might be right. Jesus has done some things I wasn’t expecting the Messiah to do.”
“I never doubted,” Peter said.
“Liar.” John piped in just as Jesus turned and looked back at them.
“Stop squabbling.”
“Yes, sir.”
I didn’t follow after them right away. I needed a moment to think about what had happened. I wanted to have a little talk with God without Jesus being present. When they were out of sight, I knew I didn’t have much time, so I climbed atop a boulder thinking if I were the tallest thing on the mountain, God might spot me right away. I cleared my throat and called out to Him.
“God, if You’re still here, may I point out something in Your Son I truly admire? Notice how He doesn’t get mad when people have doubts about Him. Peter, James, and John saw Him perform wondrous things, and yet when Judas expressed doubt, they seemed to forget all about the miracles and allowed misgivings to arise in their minds. Note how Jesus reacted.
“He didn’t throw them off His team. Instead, He brought them here, and not only did He summon Moses and Elijah from Abraham’s bosom, which would have been proof enough for me any day, but You make an appearance as well. While You’ve visited Your creation a number of times over the centuries, I’m quite positive neither Moses nor Elijah has been on the earth since they passed on.
“This begs the questions, Why did they come now, and how did they do it? There can be only one reason: Jesus summoned them out of Abraham’s Bosom for no other purpose than to assuage the disciples’ doubt and fear about Him.
“If I may say so, Jesus’ compassion for others’ weaknesses would be a marvelous attitude for You to adopt and make retroactive to the time before I was unjustly thrown out of heaven with the rebels.”
When the wind began to blow harder, I was afraid I’d crossed the line with God, and He was after me. I flew as fast as I could to catch up with Jesus and the others. By the time I did, they were at the base of the mountain, where a large group of people had gathered.
A man in the crowd grabbed Jesus by the arm and pulled Him to the center, where a young boy lay convulsing and cursing on the ground.
“Teacher, I beg you to look at my son, my only child.”
Jesus leaned closer to the boy.
“What’s the matter with him?”
“A spirit seizes him, and he starts screaming in pain. It throws him into convulsions so that he foams at the mouth. The spirit scarcely ever leaves him. It’s destroying him.”
Jesus straightened Himself and walked over to the nine disciples He’d left in charge while we’d been away on the mountain.
“Why didn’t you take care of this?” He spoke in a low voice so no one else could hear. “Why do you think I left you behind, if not to handle any problems the people might have?”
“We tried,” Matthew answered. “We couldn’t do it.”
“How many times have we been over this?” Jesus looked at them and shook His head. “I can’t keep doing your work for you. What will you do when I’m gone?”
“Are You going somewhere?” Phillip asked.
Peter thumped him on the ear.
“I was just asking.”
The father came running over.
“Please, Jesus. I begged Your disciples to drive it out, but they could not.”
“Bring the boy to Me.”
Two men helped the father lift his son to his feet and moved him toward Jesus. While the boy was coming over, the evil spirit broke free from its hold and threw the child into a violent convulsion.
“Come out of him now,” Jesus said firmly.
The spirit shrieked, and as he fled, the boy fainted and collapsed in Jesus’ arms. After a few seconds he blinked his eyes and returned to consciousness. Jesus hugged him and gave him back to his father.
The onlookers were dumbstruck. While the hugging and crying were going on, Jesus summoned His disciples and slipped away. When they were a good distance down the road, Thomas asked, “Lord, why couldn’t we cast out the spirit?”
“That kind is strong and fights to stay. Unless you have empowered yourself by prayer, it will struggle against you until you give up or the host dies.”
Jesus turned off the road to an area shaded by the mountain and told the men to find a place to sit down. I sensed Jesus was going to say something important, so I sat down next to John. I’d already learned how unpredictable Peter’s reaction could be to new information, and just in case this was the day his thick-headedness pushed Jesus over the edge, I didn’t want to be in the line of fire.
“Listen carefully to what I am about to tell you,” Jesus said soberly. “We are getting close to the time. In a few days I will be delivered over to the authorities.”
No one said a word.
“Don’t guess. Ask Him what He means,” I said in John’s ear. “You may need to consider some type of intervention to keep Jesus from putting Himself in harm’s way.”
Despite my prompting, no one spoke. I decided to try myself. I stepped in front of Jesus and hoped He would hear me.
“Jesus, I believe You know by now that Caiaphas is working on a plot to have You killed. Satan thinks You’re on a suicide mission to be crucified, and he’s determined to stop You—why, I don’t know. He sent his best religion conspirator to help the high priest find a legal way to execute You beforehand. They both want You dead. Caiaphas doesn’t care how it happens as long as it does. He believes You’re a threat to his cozy relationship with Rome. Satan wants You dead by any method except crucifixion. May I say, he has been far more worried about You since You became a human than he ever was when You were only God.
“Now here’s my idea for You to escape. It may be part of some master plan for Satan to believe You’re going to die on a cross—and You may think so too, but trust me; it isn’t going to happen. I’ve learned the Roman penal code pretty well, and I can assure You only the procurator, Pontius Pilate, can order a crucifixion. No matter what the high priest wants, Pilate won’t do it as long as You don’t break any Roman laws. At that, You’d have to do something horrendous to get a crucifixion verdict. If You don’t break the law, no need to worry about being handed over to the authorities. Are You with me so far?”
Jesus swatted at a fly.
“I’ve been thinking about this conundrum 24-7, ever since I first learned that You might be contemplating allowing Yourself to be killed. I think I may know what’s going on here. I admit I’m still sketchy on the fine print, but here’s what I’ve figured out so far. You and Satan believe You have to die on a cross to save the Jews. Am I right?”
No response.
“If I may be so bold, I’ve been on the earth longer than You, and I’ve learned a few things about how Your Father does things with humans, which You now technically are. I can’t tell You how I admire that You’re willing to obey Your Father’s command and go to the cross, but, good news, it may not have to happen after all. This whole thing may be nothing more than an extreme life lesson to teach the disciples about absolute faith; Abraham and Isaac come to mind. When the men see how You’re willing to obey Your Father even to death, He’s sure to rescue You before anything happens. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised to find a ram in the bushes at the last possible moment, which is how He tends to do things. I’m sure that’s His plan, but You must be careful not to give the Romans a reason to get involved.”
Jesus was still waiting for His men to respond to what He’d said—which they didn’t—so I went on with my plan.
“So here’s what I recommend. Tell Your team this game could go into overtime, so they shouldn’t panic or do anything rash when things heat up. Everybody keep a low profile until Your Father is ready to reveal the big switcheroo. Then You get on with the grand finale, freeing the Jews. Fetch the righteous dead waiting for You in Abraham’s Bosom, and in no time at all, You can be on the way back to heaven home free.”
Jesus didn’t say a word, so I didn’t know if He’d heard me or not. Either way, I couldn’t take the chance He might leave suddenly without reminding Him again of the injustice I’d suffered.
“One more thing, Lord, in case we don’t have a chance to discuss it later. Remember back thousands of years ago when that maniac, Lucifer, decided he could run heaven better than You and Your Dad? There was a lot of commotion and confusion going on that day, and when You threw Him and one-third of the angelic realm down to the earth, I unfortunately got swept up in the dragnet. I’ve been preparing a legal brief for centuries in hopes of pleading my case before the heavenly court. When You go back home with all those righteous dead Jews in tow, can I tag along? I won’t slow You down.”
Jesus walked right past me as if I hadn’t said a word and told His men to follow Him back to town. I held on to hope that He had listened and was thinking about my ideas. I flew along behind them and called out one more time.
“Now, remember, keep a low profile.”
I
GNORING MY COUNSEL
altogether, a couple of days later Jesus was at it again—healing the sick, walking on water, feeding the hungry, and picking a fight with the priests and elders. I suppose it was presumptuous of me to think the God Almighty would opt for the low-profile approach. Or maybe He couldn’t help drawing a crowd wherever He went.
“Why do You criticize how we do the work of God?” asked one of the Pharisees in the throng that had gathered around Him in the synagogue in Capernaum.
“The work of God is this,” Jesus answered. “To believe in the one He has sent.”
“Meaning You.”
“You have said it.”
