The cock’s shrill crow peeled open Simon Peter’s eyes. They abruptly snapped shut, as if sealing out the dim morning light would mute the bird’s haunting clatter. His palms pressed tightly against his ears in his vain attempt to muffle the piercing noise. Half awake, Simon’s memory dragged him through the grueling hours of the past several days. Mercifully, his thoughts carried him further back, to that isolated mountaintop with Jesus, James and John, far from the complexities and intrigue of Jerusalem. A lifetime ago? No, the surreal experience occurred several months past, far to the north beyond Simon’s home in the Galilean seaside village. On the mountain’s hazy summit, Jesus conferred with Moses and Elijah. With the breathtaking vista as a backdrop, pride swelled within Simon. Jesus selected him as only one of three disciples to witness the inspiring meeting! Calmed by the mountaintop recollection, Simon drifted back into a deep sleep, leaving the pain of Jerusalem behind. During Simon’s slumber he journeyed again to Mount Hermon, but without James or John to accompany him. Standing alone on the summit, he waited anxiously for the appearance of Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. Suddenly the ground shook, the earth moaned, and the heavens roared. Simon threw himself down and clung to the rocky surface, shielding his head with his thick robe. Despite the dynamic tempest churning toward him, he peered over his forearm. Trepidation filled him as three faint images advanced within the swirling red mist. As the figures neared, Simon smiled, leaped to his feet, and raced forward to greet the trio, already envisioning soothing consolation for his troubled soul. He gasped! Instead of Jesus, Moses, and Elijah, he stood face to face with Judas Iscariot, flanked by the high priest Caiaphas, and the Roman governor Pontius Pilate! He instinctively reached for his sword, ready to avenge his Lord’s death, only to discover an empty sheath. Like a wind-driven rain, the triumvirate’s condescending laughter slapped chilling torrents against his face. Standing with fists clenched, Simon ranted, “You three despicable beings dare laugh at me, after orchestrating the greatest atrocity since the beginning of time?” Judas glanced at the empty sheath and smirked. “You dare to chastise us? We each performed our duty, while true to character, you, the mighty blowhard, overflowed with blustery talk. You boasted to Jesus, ‘Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and even to death.’ Without hesitation, Jesus replied, ‘I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow today before you have thrice denied that you know me.’ Jesus facetiously addressed you as Peter rather than Simon, certain that his ‘rock’ would crumble when he most needed you to stand firmly by his side. Like the rest of us, Jesus placed little value in your empty words.” Judas glanced to his side at Pilate, then toward Caiaphas before continuing, “We faithfully fulfilled our calling, while you, Simon, howled like a jackal, and then bolted like a scared rabbit into obscurity at the first sign of danger.” Heat flushed Simon’s cheeks. Trembling with rage, he strode forward. Glaring down at Judas he lashed out, “You, the charlatan of all mankind, have the audacity to accuse me? Jesus invited you into his inner circle, but instead you chose to betray him to the likes of these other two vile serpents!” The fox smiled as his prey stepped into the snare. Without a trace of emotion, Judas rebutted, “Though you may use the word betrayal to suit your own purposes, I relish hearing it emanate from your lips.” He gazed beyond Simon’s shoulder, far into the past. “When Jesus revealed himself to us as the Messiah, I believed I finally understood why he selected me to join his inner circle. Coming from Judea, I possessed family ties with Caiaphas. Who better than I to navigate the pathway to place Jesus on the empty throne in Jerusalem, and return Israel to the grandeur of King David?” Judas momentarily stared into Simon’s eyes. With a hardened tone he continued, “Betrayal? Me? It was Jesus who strayed and lost touch with reality after misleading us with his grandiose promises. In the beginning, like the rest of you, I drank deeply from his soothing well, laced with his addicting words. His vision of a New Jerusalem breathed fresh air into my stagnant lungs. However, when we entered the final weeks leading to the Passover, I began to question his intentions.” Venom now spewed from Judas’s tongue. “But once we passed through the gate into Jerusalem’s streets, with the throngs singing his praises, I again believed all of that which he had spoken would soon come to fruition! With tens of thousands of devout Israelites packing our holy city, what better time to cast off the Roman yoke than the forthcoming festival commemorating our ancestors’ escape from Egypt’s pagan rule? Multitudes of revitalized patriots rallying behind bold zealots, eagerly waiting to elevate the long-awaited Messiah to his rightful position, with those of us leading the revolt standing by his side in the royal palace! But alas, Jesus betrayed me—I did not betray him.” Simon’s back stiffened. His eyes darted from the high priest to Pilate, and back to Judas. “Absurd! If you speak the truth, why did you hand Jesus over to Caiaphas in the dark of night, isolated from the masses who would protect him?” “You and the others, so intoxicated with his words that you too lost touch with reality as the week progressed. You failed to notice the shrinking number of those following and the swelling number of those growing disenchanted. Inexplicably, he alienated rather than attracted. The devout men in the temple performing their service by exchanging pagan coins for clean money, and those procuring sacrificial animals, so that we might continue to adhere to our law. He attacked simple men barely eking out an honest living. Jesus, with his sanctimonious sense of justice, ostracized his fellow countrymen rather than the alien invaders. He even said, ‘Pay Caesar what belongs to Caesar,’ if you have not forgotten.”
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