Description
A very powerful eye-witness testimony to the Passion of the Christ, a fitting Good Friday meditation or prayertime.
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Extract:
I COULD SEE HIM
I could see him. Even though the crowd was vast, and filling each side of the road, a great swaying, chanting, cheering mass of humanity, I could still see him, glimpse him at least, sat on a donkey, being led towards the City gates. Strangely, he seemed so alone.
The people on every side were shouting "Hosanna to the King! Hosanna to the Son of David" and they waved palm leaves they had brought with them all the way from Jericho, to keep off the sun. They waved their palm leaves and they even threw their cloaks under the feet of the donkey - because others did, and it was fun and something to do - and they shouted "Son of David, Son of David!"
And still he seemed alone.
I could still see him, far off it is true, at the gates of the Temple. I could see him, between the heads, over the shoulders of the people in the crowd. He was a great way off but I could still hear that voice raised against the din of traders and money-changers pouring out of the Court of the Gentiles. I could hear his voice, such a clear voice, strong and angry, saying "My father's house is a house of prayer!" Everyone heard him, everyone obeyed him, too, even though tables were overturned and money scattered everywhere, and doves loose and flying in and out of the arches, and a great hullabaloo of people and voices, some crying out that they had lost everything, and others encouraging him, because it was fun, and because they were fickle and at once fascinated and bored.
And even then, even among that great, undulating sea of people, and even though I could only see and hear him at a distance, still he seemed so very alone.
Days passed and I saw him again, at night, in a quiet quarter of the city. Most of the people had gone elsewhere to watch and ogle and shout and cheer at something else, anything else that would break the boredom, between the great events of the Passover. Milling, idle crowds of people drifted through the city like an aimless, insistent mist. But here it was quiet, and darkness had fallen, and he had gathered with his friends, his followers in an upper room. There were many there. The Twelve were there, and women, and children, and many of the people from Galilee. There was food and wine, and they were having a happy and noisy meal.
And still, even here, even among all his friends and followers, even among all those who knew and loved him best, still he seemed so very alone.