Tuesday, 19 April 2011

Jesus’ Diary: From Death To Resurrection

Image credit:attyleya,blog.friendster.com

Feast of Unleavened Bread, yet
My mind is troubled, Passover beckoning
My death carefully plotted, finer details    drawn
I am in Bethany but my death is nigh
I see the Twelve, I throw the comment:
“I tell you the truth, one of you will betray me”
Deny they do, even Judas, saith he:
“Surely not I, Rabbi?”
The Thirty silver coins I saw
 Them in my spirit, I need no

            Mount of Olives, I throw a punch line to Peter:
            “This very night, before the cock crows, you will
            Disown me three times”
            And like Judas, saith he:
            “Even if I have to die with you,
 I will never disown you”
I don’t reply, I need no

Gethsemane, My spirit troubled
I tag along Peter and Zebedee’s two sons
Never felt so dejected like this
My heart is like cumulonimbus circling
Spiraling round and round, hazy and dazed
Sorrow fills me, my heart is weeping
My mind is like a city besieged, my heart is
Heavy it could slip down Mount Olives
Yet, when the Son of Man in anguish He
Agonizes, the Disciples’ eyes are heavy
With sleep, O Gethsemane, what sorrow
Do you cloak in this sad night?
What sleep should you send
For my disciples to shut from my affliction?
Ticking time, my death is nigh!

The Betrayer’s Kiss, what a lovely sight
Judas drawing near me, saying:
“Greetings, Rabbi!”
What of “Surely, Not I Rabbi?”
It is the prophesy, though
Somehow Judas was ordained
After the kiss, now why the swords
And clubs? Which resistance did I spawn
If all my times I was in the Synagogues
And temple courts, a Rabbi?
One of the Twelve chops an ear
I undo it with as much grace
If I could, I would have flipped a sword
And chopped off a dozen pair of ears
But my glory lies in my death
Sanhedrin, before Caiaphas
Trumped up charges, inadmissible evidence
Coached-up witnesses, biased trial
Uncodified offence, humiliation
Where is justice? What is my offence?
I look on, I keep silent
Upon the charge of blasphemy
I am most inclined to say,
“But I say to all of you:
In the future you will
See the Son of Man sitting
At the right hand of the
Mighty One and coming on
The clouds of heaven”
Most displeased, Caiaphas
Tears his garment, shouting
“Blasphemer! Blasphemer!”
I am spat on, my dignity
Is shredded lower than that of
The city’s lowest leper
Something in me wants to
Lift up to prove Me
But the prophesy has to be

Two quick acts, Peter disowns me
Three times before the cock crowed
And Judas, in a grip of remorse and suicide,
Hangs himself
O Peter, O Judas,
I needed no grandstanding
It had to come to pass
While I am most remorse for this
The prophesy had to be

            I am before Pilate, being a Feast,
            He poses:
            “Which one do you want me to release
            To you: Barabbas, or Jesus who is called
And what do I hear?
Impassioned plea, a ranting chant
“Barabbas!” “Barabbas!” “Barabbas!”
Barabbas be released
And me?
An even more impassioned plea
“Crucify him!” “Crucify him!”
These same people I walked with
In Bethlehem, Jerusalem, Tiberia
In the synagogues and temples
Healing them, feeding them,
Teaching them—to be crucified!
In Praetorium, I am crowned with thorns
Spat on, robbed of my robes
And called, “Hail, King of the Jews!”
My death is nigh

            Golgotha, the Place of the Skull,
            This is the moment, this is it
            Never felt so much pain, the whiplashes
            The cross’s burden, the mockery
            Ninth hour I draw air into my lungs
            Then cry: “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?”
            “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
            I breathe my last, temple’s curtain rips,
            Earth shakes, graves break open
            In my throes of death, I gesture
            That I am Son of God, not for glory
            For what use does it serve when I die?

            Had Joseph of Arimathea had the faintest clue
            That I would resurrect, then he wouldn’t bury my
Body, but what evidence would man have had of
My resurrection?
Third day I rise, I rise from death
Mankind, my death be not in vain
I died so that you live, live by my teachings

C) Lorot Salem 2011


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