sounds irrational, even to me, but I saw someone in the garden. I was hoping he would come back.” Adas suddenly clutched at the neck of his tunic as his eyes went wide with panic. “Oh, I forgot. I gave it back.”
“Gave what back?” Malchus asked.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“You said you saw someone in the garden?” asked Jamin.
Adas described the man as best he could. “I can’t quite place where I’ve seen him before. Behind the tree, I could only see his face. I’d swear he looked like . . . but that’s not possible.”
Cleopas and Jamin exchanged glances. Jamin declared, “We know who he is.” Adas and Malchus waited for an answer.
Losing patience, Malchus demanded, “Well? Who is he?”
“The man you saw is Yeshua, the same man you crucified.”
“What?” exclaimed Malchus. “You know that was just wishful thinking. Besides, the prophets have been silent four hundred years, ten generations. Why now?”
“God decided it was time,” said Cleopas.
“If Yeshua is the Messiah, why did God let him be killed,” demanded Malchus.
“For our forgiveness,” said Jamin. “Yeshua, as God’s Son fulfilled eternal atonement for all humanity. Remember when he said, ‘Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets. I have not come to abolish, but to fulfill.’ Never again will the shedding of blood be required to pay the penalty for sin. We are witnesses to a new covenant.”
“Why do you think it was Yeshua in the garden?” asked Malchus.
“Because we talked with him today—twice,” said Cleopas emphatically. “He explained about the prophecies being fulfilled when he appeared with us on the road to Emmaus and again with the others when he appeared in a locked room. He took food with us. He is alive! Yeshua is the Messiah. Many followers have seen him. First, the women in our group and. . .”
“What women?” asked Adas. “The ones who stood by the Nazarene when he died?”
“The Nazarene has a name!” Cleopas snapped. “You had plenty of time to learn it while you were torturing him to death.”
“Cleopas, it was God’s will. If this man had not carried out the death sentence, someone else would have. It had to be done. You know this. Yeshua told us himself, today. It is not this man’s fault.”
“It feels like it was my fault. Cleopas, I did not mean to be disrespectful.” He eyed the bandage on his hand. “I did have a choice. I could have refused the assignment. Somehow, I knew Yeshua was innocent of any crime.”
“Innocence is exactly the point, Adas. Only Yeshua could fulfill the law because he was without sin,” explained Jamin. “It is no coincidence you were in charge of his execution. You did something I believe will be retold down through the ages. You proclaimed that Yeshua is the Son of God. You were chosen, Adas, and you fulfilled your purpose. If God had not wanted you there, he would have chosen someone else. And I suspect God has other tasks for you.”
“I hope you are correct. There is something some people may dismiss, but I will never forget. When Yeshua stated, ‘It is finished,’ and immediately died, I knew I was witnessing something impossible. No man can make himself die simply by saying ‘It’s over.’ Even with suicide, a man must run on his sword, or throw himself from a cliff. When you saw Yeshua, did he have fresh injuries?”
“No, he was completely healed” said Cleopas. “But there are marks left by the crucifixion nails in his hands and feet along with the wound in his side. Jamin and I saw them. When he showed us the side wound, we also saw the marks of the whip. There were so many.”
Adas looked away, sickened at the thought. Jamin glanced at Adas’s bandaged hand. “You did that to yourself, didn’t you?” Adas nodded, but made no comment.
“In the fifth book of Moses,” Malchus said, “God tells us to bind a sign on the hand to remember His commands. Centurion, you have bound a sign on your hand. What happened to make you do this?”
“I knew I executed an innocent man. Then, when I saw him today, I knew who he was, even though I told myself it was impossible. Yeshua didn’t just look at me; he looked into me. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. At least, I hope not. But there’s so much more I want to know.”
“We all have much to learn,” said Malchus. “I have much to think about. For now, we will get you back to the Antonia, but first, tell us what happened this morning?”
Jamin held a palm up. “Wait, tell me something about Friday. After you and the other soldier argued, Yeshua said something. I couldn’t hear. You looked shocked.”
“He said, ‘Forgive them, Father, they do not know what they are doing.’ I still can’t believe it.”
“Tell us what you saw today,” said Malchus. “Was it an angel?”
Adas told them what happened over the three days. He included how the silk merchant at the crucifixions accused him of murder. “To execute an innocent man is murder.”
“It had to be done, Adas.” Jamin remembered the skeletal man and shuddered. “You were an important part of God’s plan, but the question is what are you going to do about it? Are you going to ruin your life with guilt or accept Yeshua’s forgiveness?”
“Jamin is right,” Cleopas agreed. “I was wrong to judge you. But now you have a choice. You can stay mired in guilt, which will make you useless to God, or you can become a better man. Learn Yeshua’s teachings and live by his example.”
“Who would teach me? Yeshua forgave me, but will his followers?”
“Do you think we never asked Yeshua for forgiveness?” said Jamin. “Every one of us has failed in some way. No one is without blame.”
“I spied on Yeshua for Caiaphas,” Malchus admitted. “I took part in his arrest. When we got to Gethsemane, I stepped in to arrest him and one of his disciples sliced off my ear with a sword. Yeshua put his hand over the wound and the pain was gone. I reached up and felt—my ear. It felt perfectly normal. I tried to tell myself I had imagined the whole thing, but my blood-stained clothes said otherwise. To instantly heal such an injury is not possible. That’s when I lost all doubt. I was there to arrest him, but he looked at me with forgiveness. Yeshua is the Word, the Way, and the Truth.”
Adas asked, “You said you have questions, Jamin.”
Malchus held up a hand. “I have been selfish, wanting my questions answered and forgetting your situation. You must get back to the garrison, but you’re in no condition to walk that far, even with our help. Is there a friend you can trust?”
“Yes, Decurion Cassius Sabinus Quintus.”
“Does he ride a big, dark, bay horse?” Adas nodded. “I’ll go get him.”
“Listen, if Cassius hesitates, tell him, I promised I would check on Tigula, his mastiff. He’s not eating well. Draco is the name of his horse.”
“Good
