The Betrayes (Sympathy for the Devil)

Reads: 227  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
The untold story of Judas Iscariot

Submitted: June 15, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 15, 2013



The Betrayed - (Sympathy for the Devil)

 "Move away from those around you and I will reveal unto you the mysteries of the kingdom of Heaven. It is vast, boundless expanse, which no eye of even a single angel has ever seen in it's entirity, nor has any heart thought completely contemplated it." Thus spoke the Christ to me, at the last gathering of the apostles, in The Upper Room, which would come to be remembered as the Last Supper.

 "Brother, what is it you would ask of me this day?", I inquired of Yeshua.

 "My dear trusted friend and brother, I ask only that you do what you were sent to do", replied the Messiah. "You must lead the Centurian guard to me in the garden of Gethsemane, this very evening", with these words he sealed my destiny as the greatest
betrayer of all time.
 Through all our years together, he and I shared a communion that is known only to brothers. He was my spirit light, my sage counsel, my most treasured friend and not once had any thought of renouncing him ever trespassed upon the landscape of my mind. This last comand left me empty and cold inside, bereft of any comfort which might have been applied to soothe the frayed edges of my worried mind.

 "Rabbi, how could you lay such a task at me feet? Have I not proved myself loyal, above and beyond all our other bretheren?"

 'Yes, Judas, and it is because of who you are to me, that I place the burden of this decision squarely upon your broad shoulders, with complete faith that you will not fail me. You have been chosen to fulfill the prophecy and bring to fruition my destiny, my legacy to mankind."

 Hastily, I fled the confines of the Upper Room, out into the streets of the city, on the second day of the observance of passover; searching for a reason to comply with the heartfelt request of my lord, my brother and friend. I stumbled on through the night until I came upon a small tavern. Inside were assembled a small group of Roman Centurians, gathered in festive state of mind and after much wine had flowed between us, I found the wherewithal to approach the Captain of the guard.

 "I have news of the one you seek, known to you as the son of man, the messiah - the one called Christ."

 "Speak on, Hebrew, and I shall arrange for a reward, should any information you provide prove productive in the apprehension of this Christ."

 "He wanders the garden of Gethsemane, seeking solace and the courage to complete his journey. He has asked that I lead you to him there, this very night, that you may play your role in his progress towards the Kingdom which awaits him."

 "No hebrew, on direct order from Pilaie himself, we have been forbidden to apprehend the one called Christ. Instead, you are to lead the elders of the temple there to capture him and deliver him to Pilate. At that moment, the Captain handed me a worn, leather pouch filled with thirty pieces of silver, echoing the words Pilate would soon utter hmself, unto Christ, "I wash my hands of your fate."

 And so, I led the elders to the garden, then seperated Christ from those among whom he stood with a single kiss. I whispered into his ear, "Brother, forgive me for this act is not done of my own volition." There ensued a confrontation and Simon Peter severed the ear of one who attempted to approach Christ. Christ bade Peter to cease and desist, then restored the severed member, further invoking the full, raw ire of the elders.

 "You have no reason for regret, Dear Friend, Judas; for within your heart you have only remained faithful to my cause. Know this, I go to prepare a place for you in my father's house. I freely absolve you of any debt you feel to me, for those actions beyond your
control. Though history and mankind shall judge you harshly, I cannot."
 "Thank you, My Brother; but I must beg my leave you now."

 "Go then, with G-d in your heart and understand me now, you were born to serve me at this moment in time."

 I turned and walked away, abandoning him there in the garden; captive to the Elders who would in turn convey him before Pontius Pilate and the final Judgement.

 With the silver, I purchased a small, wooded parcel of land overlooking the city. I fahioned a noose, threw it over an extended branch and tied the dead end to the trunk. I then positioned the loop securely around my neck, flinging myself from my perch towards the ground below. I swung there, into the grasp of the cool night breeze, until I had drawn my what I believed to be my last breath. Danglng there until sunset the folowing day, when the fading light cast shadows of my corpse. I woke and climbed down to embrace my curse; I would face the eternal night, all alone, wandering without rest until he returned to redeem my soul.

 Throughout the lands and the centuries, I traveled by night, down every coneivable corridor of meaningful time and space; through every important moment of recorded history, I bore witness to each seminal event. Now, two thousand years later, I keep a constant vigil over each hour and moment of the day, confident my suffering shall soon end. Again, I will feel the warm embrace of my Christ and bask in the radiance of the Kingdom of all eternity.

 With Christ, I will ride into the battle of Armagedon; slaying my way trhough the minions of darkness; when the last spectere of all Hell's doom and wrath have been vanquished, I will ascend into the firmament above to assume my rightful place at the side of my friend and brother - Jesus of Nazareth. Then I will know the joy of having survived my own journey through the lands of The Betyrayed and back into the light of all that is good and holy in heaven.

Judas Iscariot ... May 2013

Copyright: 15 June 2013

Connie Mack Crawley
3403 E. Division Street
Mt. Juliet, Tn 37122

© Copyright 2019 Dharma Des. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Religion and Spirituality Short Stories