Tempting Christ

The Answer

A/N: I see that I've mistakenly used Peter instead of Simon in some of the previous chapters. I'll have to go back and fix that.

Jesus led the band of misfits that he called his followers, myself among them, to Ceasaria Phillipi, the temples of Pan. It was a likely site for a god of nature, with an abundance of water, flowering mistletoe, pennyroyal and buttercups, goats and ibex grazing. There was a magnificent new temple built in honor of Caesar Augustus, and, most importantly, at the end of a wide path was a grotto where many sexual rites were performed in the name of Pan.

Some referred to the place as the "Gates of Hell," and that was not figurative--for in the dark recesses of that cave was an actual passage to sheol. Not a safe place for any mortal, but a well of power for creatures like myself.

Why Jesus would take us here, I couldn't guess. But then, so little of what he did made sense to me. I didn't care. Jesus had shown great mercy to Mikal, and, at least for now, that was enough to purchase my loyalty.

Jesus bid us sit down. We did so, facing the great temple of Pan. Jesus also stood there, gazing upon it.

Perhaps we were here to see the water, the plants, and nature. Jesus was fond of such settings. He was forever seeking out places in the wilderness to go and pray. He seemed to prefer such places to the synagogues--though maybe that was because of the attention his presence drew wherever he went. He always wanted quiet for prayer.

I wasn't ready to go as far as praying, myself. I would travel with Jesus and do what I could to help him, but without making it obvious that's what I was doing.

There were some things I ought to tell him, particularly about Judas. I just had to find the right opportunity.

Jesus turned and looked at his followers. "Who do people say that I am?"

They looked at each other.

One person said, "A prophet."

Another said, "The true King of Israel, the Messiah."

Still another said, "The person who healed my sister."

"Good answers, but what else?" Jesus searched them all. He turned to his twelve, who were looking thoughtful.

I had to laugh. "You all follow this man and none of you know who he is? I mean, look at the signs he does."

Mikal spoke up. "Are you Elijah?"

Since Elijah had been taken up to heaven in a whirlwind, all of Israel expected Elijah to return one day to prepare the way for the Messiah.

"If you are willing to accept it, Elijah has come. John the Baptist came in the spirit and power of that prophet of long ago."

"Okay people," I muttered. "He's practically told you the answer. If John was Elijah come to prepare the way--" When I said the next words, I spoke very slowly. "Then Jesus must be the Messiah."

I shook my head then said more quietly. "What you probably didn't guess was that he's also the Son of God."

After I said this, Simon looked nervously in my direction, then back at Jesus. He bunched his fists and his whole body tensed, as if he were working up his nerve to do something potentially embarrassing like ask a woman to dance. Finally, he spoke. "I say you are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God."

That startled me. Had the man heard me? I hadn't whispered in his ear.

"Very good," Jesus said. "Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for you did not learn this from flesh and blood, it was revealed to you by my Father in heaven."

At this point Jesus walked toward Simon and placed a hand on each of his shoulders. "I give you a new name. You shall be known as Kepha or Peter which means rock, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of sheol--" Here he glanced toward the temple of Pan. "--will not overcome it. Furthermore, I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven."

It was a solemn moment. The bestowal of a new name was no small thing. Whatever these keys were, they were clearly important. The other apostles, as well as the other followers now looked at Peter with a kind of reverent awe--as did I.

Would this man become a general, leading the Jewish people to victory over Rome? He was built for the job, heavily muscled and with a commanding presence. Yes, men would follow him.

"Now that you have heard the truth," Jesus said, stepping away and sweeping his hand to indicate all his followers, "I ask you to keep it to yourselves."

This made me chuckle a little. There was no surer way to spread a message than to tell people it was a secret. Every time Jesus had made a similar request in the past, the word had spread far and wide.

"Now I will tell you things plainly," Jesus said.

These words got my attention. It would certainly be nice to know what in sheol he was doing.

"The pharisees, chief priests, and teachers of the law do not like me. Even now, they plot to kill me." Jesus said these words so matter-of-factly that he might have simply been remarking on the weather.

Okay, so, a lot of this was my doing. If need be, I could probably undo it. Of course, I'd have to have my story straight for the Abominations.

In the same mild tone, Jesus said, "I must suffer at their hands and be put to death. On the third day thereafter, I will rise again."

"Look," I said. "That's not going to happen. They can easily distract them with illness, infatuation with beautiful women, or whatnot. I've derailed a lot of plans that way."

I turned to Simon--no, I should start calling him Peter. "You tell him, we won't let that happen."

"Never, lord," Peter said. "We won't let this happen to you."

I nodded my agreement.

"Get behind me Satan!" Jesus shouted. It was a startling change, given how mild he'd been before. "Do you think I want these things to happen to me? Do you think I'm not tempted to turn aside from this cup of poison the Father has prepared for me? No. I must not. By saying this you become a stumbling block to me."

"Lord," Peter said. "I'm sorry, I don't understand. I mean, none of this makes sense to me."

"That is because you are thinking like a man, only thinking of comfort and safety. There are more important things here."

"But--but what? Isn't there some other way?"

Jesus looked at him a long time. Finally, he turned away. To the disciples and followers, he appeared to stare off at the Temple of Pan--but he had focused those other-worldly, pale brown eyes on me.

"You have your answer," he said.

Although the remark appeared as a reply to Peter, I knew it was meant for me.

What did it mean?

As I stood there, staring, pondering, I found myself focusing on Cassia's suffering and repeated deaths.

Jesus had said the he was supposed to suffer and die, and we weren't supposed to stop it. Was his plan to experience the fullness of being human, including these terrible things? If so, it was utter foolishness. I suppose he could always use his power to put a stop to it if things got too bad.

Should I actually help him in this misguided effort?

You have your answer.

And then, suddenly, I realized what Jesus meant. I had my answer for the Abominations. I could tell them I was playing Jesus, helping him with situations like the one with Lazarus in order to gain his trust, and all the while I could keep whispering to the pharisees, encouraging them in their plans to capture and kill Jesus. The Abominations didn't have to know that's what Jesus actually wanted me to do.

To make it even better, in the end, Jesus might actually realize that it was wrong of God to allow suffering.

I smiled. It was perfect--or it would be if I had a way to rescue Cassia.