First Person Passion Narrative According to St.
Mark
Mark
14:1--15:47
Six Characters:
Woman
Who Anointed Jesus
Peter
Pilate
Centurion
Woman
Who Anointed Jesus
I love the
smell of the alabaster oil. When I streak it through my
hair and smooth it out over my skin, the fragrance fills
the air. It is expensive oil imported from India, so I
use it for only the most important of occasions.
I was among the
crowd when Jesus came into Jerusalem. It was like a
great festival or parade with Jesus leading the way. How
excited we were because he was a great man--a teacher, a
healer, a preacher, perhaps even a king. And so we cut
branches from the fields and put them on the road and
shouted "hosanna" because we believed he was the chosen
one from God.
A few days later,
I learned that Jesus was visiting the home of Simon.
Simon used to be a leper, but Jesus healed him. I found
Jesus seated at a table, and because I knew Jesus was a
special man, I thought it was appropriate to give him a
special gift. So, I took my vial of expensive oil and I
gently poured some on his head. It was the finest gift I
could give him.
Little did I know
that I would cause such a ruckus! Some were very angry
that I was "wasting" such expensive ointment when I could
have sold it and given the money to the poor. I was
about to run away in shame, when Jesus said, "Leave her
alone. You will always have the opportunity to show
kindness to the poor, but I will not always be with you.
She has done a beautiful thing for me--she has anointed
my body beforehand for burial. For her kindness to me
this day, she will be remembered by all."
My heart soared!
He appreciated my gift! I didn't know what this talk of
anointing his body for burial was about, but it was clear
that he appreciated me. I do believe he is God's
anointed one and I'm glad we shouted, "Blessed is he who
comes in the name of the Lord!"
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Peter
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I am among
the closest to the Lord. He is my master; he is my
friend. My name is Peter.
Jesus instructed
us to make arrangements so that we could celebrate the
Passover. We gathered in a large, second-level room, and
there we ate the meal of remembrance of how God saved the
Hebrews of old from Egyptian bondage. How good it was to
eat and drink and celebrate the deliverance of God with
our Master.
Jesus was greatly
troubled that night, however. He said that one of us
would betray him. We ignored him at first. He broke
bread and said, "This is my body." He had us all drink
from a cup and said, "This is my blood of the covenant."
And then he said it again, "You will all desert
me."
I decided that was
enough of that kind of talk. We were his trusted
disciples and friends. We would stand with Jesus through
thick and thin, so I tried to assure Jesus, "I will never
desert you, Lord."
He replied, "No
Peter, this very night, before the rooster crows, you
will deny me three times."
I promised I would
not deny him; the other disciples said the
same.
We then went to
the garden. Jesus was quite troubled, so he told us to
stand watch while he went off by himself to pray. Well,
we had just eaten, my stomach was full, it had been a
long day, and I and my companions dozed off.
Out of a sound
sleep, Jesus shook me and said, "Simon, could you not
keep awake even one hour?" I was so embarrassed. But
it happened a second time--we fell asleep and Jesus had
to wake us again. But this time, we awoke to a crowd
with swords and clubs. Judas walked up to Jesus,
addressed him as "Teacher," and kissed him.
Immediately, they
grabbed Jesus. One of our men took a sword and whacked
off the ear of the high priest's slave, but Jesus stopped
the emerging battle and submitted to the arrest.
Deprived of a fight, fear filled us all and we ran
away.
While Jesus was
being questioned before the high priest and beaten by the
guards, I was trying to blend in with the night, but
people kept asking me if I knew Jesus. "No," I said
repeatedly--I was scared, defensive, and I didn't want to
be arrested too!
When the rooster
crowed, I remembered what Jesus said, dropped to my
knees, and wept.
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Pilate
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It was early
Saturday morning when I was rudely awakened. As governor
of Judea, I, Pilate, should be able to set my own hours.
But the priests, elders, and scribes demanded a trial for
a man whom they accused of claiming to be Messiah and
King.
Now look, I didn't
care if Jesus claimed to be a Messiah--that's a religious
concern that the Council of the Jews would have to deal
with. But if Jesus claimed to be king, this would be a
serious matter because only Caesar determines who is to
be a king in his domain. If Jesus claims to be a king,
he is a traitor and subject to the charge of
treason.
So, I asked him
straight out, "Are you the King of the Jews?" But Jesus
didn't give me a direct answer in return, he said, "You
say so." And then he wouldn't say another
word.
Because it was the
Passover festival, and because I wanted to find favor
with my subjects, it was my practice to release a
prisoner to show the good will and mercy of their
governor. But this year, I decided to have a little fun.
I knew that the religious authorities hated Jesus, but
that he was very popular with the people, so I shouted
out to the crowd, "Do you want me to release for you the
King of the Jews?"
I was surprised at
the resourcefulness of the chief priests and at the
fickleness of the crowd. The religious leaders walked
through the people and got them all stirred up so that
they started shouting to release a thief named Barabbas
instead of Jesus. And when I asked what I should do with
the one called "King of the Jews," they screamed out in a
frenzy, "Crucify him!" I challenged them by asking what
evil Jesus had done to deserve death, but they screamed
out all the more, "Crucify him!"
So, seeing that I
could please the whim of the crowd, I had Jesus whipped
and ordered him to be crucified.
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The
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I am a
professional soldier, a centurion, and it was my job to
carry out Pilate's orders.
In battle, 100 men
serve under me. I also get special assignments such as
carrying out the death penalty. My men typically torture
those condemned to death, and Jesus was no exception. He
was whipped repeatedly as Pilate had ordered, and because
he was known as the King of the Jews, a crown was made of
thorns and crushed into his skull; a purple cloak was
draped around his bloodied back. He was the object of
taunting, and my men bowed before him in mockery when
they weren't spitting on him or striking him.
Like the others
put to death, Jesus was made to carry his own cross.
Jesus was so weak, however, that a man from the crowd was
forced to carry the cross for him. On the outskirts of
town is Golgatha, a hill that resembles a skull. There
Jesus was nailed to a cross between two
criminals.
Those who passed
by laughed at Jesus and cried out, "Save yourself and
come down from the cross!" The religious leaders joined
in the mocking too, "Let the Messiah, the King of Israel,
come down from the cross now, so that we may see and
believe."
It was a long day
as we waited for those condemned to suffer and die. At
noon when the sun is the highest overhead, the sky became
very dark. It was eerie and unnatural. I had heard
about this Jesus--how he was wise in the ways of God, how
he taught with authority, how he worked miracles and
proclaimed God's kingdom. I wondered, what the darkness
might mean. I wondered how Jesus could remain silent in
the face of jeering and ridicule. I wondered if the
rumors of a special relationship with God that I had
heard about Jesus were true.
After six hours of
hanging on the cross, Jesus cried out, "My God, my God,
why have you forsaken me?" There amid mocking, darkness
and loneliness, Jesus gave out a loud cry and breathed
his last. There in his death, I could see his
innocence.
I'm told that at
that very moment, the curtain of the temple was torn in
two, from top to bottom. I was overcome with a power
that was greater than myself. In the silent power of
death, another power arose within me and I said, as a man
possessed by something holy: "Truly this man was the
Son of God."
And I believe
it.
When I reported to
Pilate that Jesus was in fact dead, the governor gave a
man named Joseph permission to take the body. Mary
Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses watched as the
body of Jesus was placed in a rock-hewn tomb.
So much happened
in just one week--from the time Jesus entered Jerusalem
amid shouts of "hosanna," to the time Jesus was placed in
a tomb. But there's more to the story, more that
confirms that my confession at the foot of the cross is
absolutely true: "Truly this man is the Son of
God."
For the tomb would
not hold this Jesus for very long.
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