Listening to the lilies as we pass

Jerusalem

Nisan, 3791

Dear Salome,

I know you have heard what happened in Jerusalem last week, but I want to tell you about my part.

I had gone to the well on Friday morning to get our daily supply of water. There were more women there than usual, all talking loudly and emotionally.

"Where is he now?" someone's voice broke through.

"On the way to the Skull," another answered.

"Who?" I asked someone standing next to me. I knew what went on at the Skull.

Several voices rang out, "Jesus!"

At this, several women set down their water jugs and started toward a street leading outside the walls. I was among them.

We talked along our hurried way.

"What has he done?"

"Nothing but good."

"They won't kill him for that."

"Oh yes, they will."

"What about Annas and Caiaphas?"

"Pish. Those high priests! They're the chief accusers. They're jealous and afraid Jesus will get so many followers it will cause trouble and Rome will take away what few rights we have under Pilate."

"The Sanhedrin?"

"They say he has blasphemed, claimed to be God, which he doesn't deny, and they can't do anything about it."

"Nobody can," someone said mournfully.

At this we sat down to catch our breath. As we did so, we heard the angry, cursing and jeering crowd approaching. We were ahead of them.

Here they came, Jesus among the first of them, all stooped over from bearing the cross upon which they would crucify him. Roman soldiers with their prods and whips and clanging swords. We all groaned out loud.

At one point Jesus stopped to look at us and speak to us. His face was streaked with blood, tears and sweat.

I had never followed Jesus as some of my friends had, had never made eye contact with him. I was stunned with his expression of physical pain combined with compassion.

I could not move on like the others, but turned back to go home. At one place I leaned my head against a building and thought it moved. I heard a dull but penetrating blow of a hammer. It felt like it was going through my hand and I would forever feel the agony.

But wait, Salome. It all changed. I know how you have heard about how Jesus didn't stay in the sepulcher where they had to hastily put the body. He predicted he wouldn't stay there.

Isn't it all just too wonderful? Please come to see me soon. We'll walk up to the Skull, visit the large empty tomb, and stroll through Gethsemane, which is sweet smelling now with the olive trees. We'll walk along the old road to Emmaus, where we know he walked after the grave and we'll just keep walking through the fields of lilies.

Salome, have you ever looked down into the throat of a blooming lily? The whole flower appears to be a floral musical instrument. Golden notes come rising out of the throat on their trembling stamens, seeming to be some glorious song. Let's listen as we pass amongst them.

Love, Anna

REJOICE!

Jean Bell Mosley is an author and longtime resident of Cape Girardeau.