Letters From Golgotha

I just know that this whole thing is not over. No, I think it’s just beginning, and we must choose to follow even now. We must choose to live as Jesus taught us to live. We must choose to tell others so that they, too, will follow and live. We must choose.

To that end, Nicodemus, I have reached a conclusion. I can no longer remain a secret follower of Jesus. Though I do not know what will happen of his teachings, or how posterity will ultimately recall his wonders, I do know that I cannot sit idly by while others figure that out. And I would submit, my friend, that neither can you.

No, there was something most astounding about that man, and I have to tell you, I can come to only one conclusion. A lot of the Jews had thought he was to be their messiah. A few even concluded that he was far more than a mere man. And I have to admit today that I think these people are right. The darkness, the earthquake, the shout… it was as though the Jews’ god himself was mourning this man’s death. Truly, I think this man was the Son of God.

Be sure to have someone at the temple to repair the curtain as soon as the Sabbath is over tomorrow. We don’t want word to get out that people can just waltz straight into the Holy of Holies. If someone were to think this was the result of that man’s death – that, because he died, they can now have direct access to God – imagine the ramifications. No, we must do everything in our power to ensure that does not happen.

Father, I know that this is going to sound strange. And maybe that’s why I just had to write to you. But as they raised Jesus up into place, I found myself absolutely transfixed. And as the soldiers cast lots for his clothes and the priests – the priests! – were taunting him mercilessly, I could not help but re-read that charge against him and think to myself, “This man was the king of the Jews.” But somehow, that didn’t seem right. And then it dawned on me. It should have been, “This man is the king of the Jews.”