When Jesus Wept - By Bodie Page 0,95

vied with the sharp, spicy aroma of juniper brush.

Jesus resumed: “At the close of the day, the landowner told his steward to pay the men, beginning with the last ones hired, then counting backward to the first. The last men hired received a denarius … a day’s wages. When those who had worked all day saw this they thought, If these fellows who worked just an hour get a whole day’s pay, how much more will we get? But when their turn came to receive their wages, they got … what did they get, David?”

Jesus’ sudden pivot toward me caught me off guard. I blurted out, “I paid every man a denarius, last or first, all the same.”

“And what did the earliest hired think of that?”

“There was some grumbling,” I admitted. “And how did you answer them?

“I told them they were each receiving what had been promised. I said it was my money to do with as I pleased, wasn’t it?”

Jesus nodded: “Just so. You were not being unfair to the first by being more generous to the last. And it was, as you say, your money to expend as you saw fit.”

Then Jesus brought home the point: “And so it will be in the Kingdom of Heaven. The last will be first and the first last.1 Remember this the next time you argue about who will be the greatest.”

Leaning toward me, Andrew said with a sheepish grin, “I didn’t know he heard us this time.”

As we headed toward our bedrolls, Peter gazed up at the sky and idly remarked of the moon, “Nearly full. The next full moon we see will be the Passover moon. Wonder where we will be when we see it.”

The trickle of pilgrims passing below Ephraim increased to a steady stream. Passover was still more than a week away, but many travelers from Galilee arrived early to secure lodging and see the sights.

This morning a band of at least a hundred had stopped to drink from Ephraim’s well. John bar Zebedee and I watched their leader set them in motion again with a booming voice: “Let’s get going! Half a day more and we’re there. Come on! Sing with me!”

“I lift up my eyes to the mountains—

where does my help come from?”

When the rest of the weary travelers did not immediately share the enthusiasm, the leader exhorted them still further: “Come on, sing with me, brothers!”

The shouted directive bounded among the rocks of the knoll. “Sing with me … with me … with me … with me!”

Now more throats, some quaking with age, some brash and eager, some piping and youthful, joined in:

“My help comes from the LORD,

the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip—

he who watches over you will not slumber;

indeed, he who watches over Israel

will neither slumber nor sleep.”2

Suddenly Jesus stood beside us, watching the procession. “It’s time,” he said.

John and I looked at each other. Both of us knew what he meant: the time for us to return to Jerusalem had come.

Jesus gathered his closest companions around him. I stood alongside Peniel, outside the circle of the twelve, but still close enough to hear what he told them.

“We are going up to Jerusalem,” he said. “And everything written by the prophets about the Son of Man will be fulfilled.”

Philip and James exchanged a worried glance. Thomas frowned.

Twice before John had shared with me that Jesus, while ministering in Galilee, had spoken to them in these terms. John freely admitted that neither he nor any of the others understood what their leader meant. Would he be more specific this time?

“The Son of Man,” Jesus continued, “will be betrayed.”

Peter scowled and clapped his hand to the hilt of the fisherman’s knife he wore in his belt.

Judas stared in the direction of the Temple.

“The chief priests and teachers of the law will condemn him to death and hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked,” Jesus said.

Peter mouthed the words: “Over my dead body,” but no one interrupted.

“They will mock him, spit on him, flog him, and crucify him.”

This was now suddenly very specific—much too specific for some of the disciples, who turned their heads away.

Matthew narrowed his eyes and stared at his sandals.

On my left Nathanael whispered, “Then why are we going?”

“On the third day he will rise again.”3

For a moment there was dead silence throughout the group as all struggled to grasp what Jesus meant. Our minds were still reeling from the horrors He had prophesied betrayal, trial,