peter’s story
written for two voices: peter and jesus
plus the final line of ‘golgotha’ by a third voice

gethsemane:

As we sat down to wait for him I watched him walk a little further and fall to the ground to pray.

“My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me.
Yet not as I will, but as you will.”

Maybe it was the meal, or more likely all the wine we’d drunk, but one moment I was watching and praying for him, then next thing he was shaking me awake.

“Could you men not keep watch with me for one hour? Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.”

I felt so bad, like I’d let him down at the time when he was troubled - when he really needed a friend to be there for him. I rubbed my eyes and sat up straight as he walked a little distance away to pray again. But I was weak, and tired and a little drunk and I slept whilst this man who I loved struggled and called out to his Father. I don’t know if Jesus came back to find us sleeping again and let us rest, but when he woke me again, the first light of day was showing over the hills sillhoutting a large crowd gathering amongst the trees.

“Are you still sleeping and resting? Look, the hour is near, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us go! Here comes my betrayer!”

And bleary-eyed and hungover I stumbled into the blackest day of my life.

golgotha:

As they led him through the streets stumbling under the weight of the rough cross, I watched from the cool safety of the morning shadows and asked - why?

As children danced along behind him and women beat their chests and wailed, I kept quiet not wanting to be recognised again.

As Jesus stopped and spoke to the hysterical women I skulked in the semi-dark, desperately grabbing at any words I could hear, praying that he was telling them why.

“Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and your children”

As soldiers tore off his bloodstained clothes, as the crowd laughed at his nakedness, shouting out insults - caught along in the whole spectacle, I pretended to laugh along - but inside I was crying.

As they hoisted him up, I asked “Yahweh, my God, why?”
As I saw him raise his bleeding head and talk to one of the criminals they had crucified beside him, I imagined him explaining it all - to a common thief, and I cursed the thief out loud and people turned to look at me surprised by the venom in my voice.

When the spear went in his side I felt his heart break with mine, and though I watched from a distance, as he spoke his last words I was standing at his feet, and I leant forward to kiss them, my tears mixing with his blood.

“Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing”

And I said to him “Jesus, let us raise an army and slaughter these fools, let me pull out these nails and help you down and bind your wounds, so you can talk with us again, so you can explain all things to us a nd this time we’ll understand.”

“Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”

And beside me, a man I’d never seen before said the words I really needed to say

“Truly this man was God’s Son”

Adrian RIley 2000

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