This post is a week late, but I wanted to share this with you anyway. This is a poem I wrote several years ago about some of the key players on Jesus' last day.
Jesus’ Last Interactions
Matthew 20: 18, 19
Listen. We are going up to Jerusalem, the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn him to death. They will hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked, flogged and crucified and he will be resurrected on the third day.
I’m known throughout the generations
As the betrayer of the one who would save nations.
Judas Iscariot is my name,
I hung myself under the burden of my shame.
Tossing and turning I cannot sleep
Jesus the righteous man whose pain I reap
Approach my husband, Pilate, I presumed
But Jesus’ flogging and torture is resumed
Innocent man dragged before me by the Jews
If I give them what they want, what do I lose?
My wife says let him go
I give him to the Jews, wash my hands-white as snow
I weep to see my son on the cross
I never imagined I would suffer such loss
Jesus said, “John, behold your mother.”
In his shoulder my tears I smother
Look his robe torn and bloody
Let’s gamble as if it where money
It’s your turn, throw the dice
“I won.” With a laugh, “it isn’t at all nice.”
I’m beaten and hung up to die
Father don’t turn away from me I cry
Forgive them for they know not what they do
Take my spirit home, the covenant make anew.
Three times I denied my Lord
My self-hatred snapped like a chord
Forgiven and restored, Peter am I
My life poured out in service, to myself I die.