“Ezekiel!” shouted Elyam. Ezekiel could see a blurry shape rushing to his side.
“Ezekiel, my boy, what happened?”
“I won the fight!”
“I’d hate to see what happens when you lose. Come on!” Elyam put Ezekiel’s arm over his shoulder. They limped toward the path leading to their house. On the way Ezekiel could see three figures coming toward them. It was Rina, Aaliyah, and Ester.
“Thank God you found him,” said Aaliyah.
“I told you . . . you were going to get yourself killed!” said Rina. Ester said nothing.
“Bathshua is at home. She needs to rest after making the Passover meal,” Aaliyah said.
“So, let’s get Ezekiel home then.”
“NO!” said Ezekiel. “I need to see what happens! Just give me some of your wine and I will be alright.” Elyam handed him his wineskin, and Ezekiel drank from it hungrily.
CHAPTER 47
The trial of Yeshua was a mockery even by Roman standards. Pilate heard the case himself and, ever the politician, decided to go with a lesser punishment to appease the crowd. Having Yeshua whipped with the nine-tailed whip was punishment that many people did not live through. Since his wife, Procla, had a dream about this man, Pilate did not want to be the one to put a holy man to death. He himself could find no fault in him. He also knew he could lose control of the crowd— something that would relieve him of his position if he presided over an uprising. Two thieves and a murderer named Barabbas were scheduled to be crucified this weekend already. That might keep the crowd’s bloodlust to a minimum. The high priest Caiaphas was popular among the Jews, and he could quell this potential uprising, but he seemed to push for the execution of Yeshua more than the others. Pilate awaited word that the sentence was carried out, ordering a basin of water to rid himself ceremonially when the time was right.
“Prepare Barabbas to go before the crowd,” he instructed his chief officer. “When this Yeshua is back from his beating, we will appeal to the kind nature of the people to contrast him with a murderer.”
“Yes, my lord,” said the centurion. Pilate eased back into his chair. His head splitting with stress, he took a swig from his wine cup and prayed to the gods that he was not in the wrong here.
The beating took less than an hour. His personal guard carried it out. The man they now brought before him was almost unrecognizable. The look of agony on Yeshua’s face perplexed Pilate. This was by far the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. Every other man he sent to the cross deserved the punishment, either through sedition, murder, or larceny. This man was none of those things. His claims pertained to the spiritual realm, not the physical. His authority was not about overthrowing the Roman government. There was nothing to be made here that even came close to that. This man was urging peace, forgiveness, and love. Surely these were not the enemy of Rome. The man who now stood before him did not deserve to die.
Rising from his chair, Pilate walked to the veranda where a crowd had gathered outside. The crowd was chanting, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” Raising both hands in the air, Pilate was nearly successful in calming the crowd and said, “I come to you with a choice. I can find no fault in this man. We have already scourged him. Is that not enough?”
“Crucify him! Crucify him!” the crowd chanted.
“It is customary to release one prisoner at the end of Passover. I have on my right Barabbas. He is a murderer who has a long list of crimes against Rome and the Jews. Surely you would want me to release Yeshua as opposed to this man?” said Pilate.
“Give us Barabbas! Crucify Yeshua!” a man in the crowd said. Everyone chanted, “Release Barabbas! Crucify Yeshua!” Pilate’s heart sank. This was the last hope for this man. Turning to one of his servants, he said, “Bring out the water basin.”
Immediately it was brought to him and set on the ledge. He dipped his hands in the water.
“I wash my hands of him,” Pilate said. “My centurions will carry out your punishment under your law only. Not Rome’s.” The guards seized Yeshua and handed him over to the crowds, who put a purple robe on him and placed a crown of thorns on his brow.
Pilate retreated to his inner chamber. “May the gods choose mercy when they see the untenable situation I was in,” he said aloud.
Rina could tell Ezekiel was regaining a lot of his strength. He still could not keep up with the rest of his family. Elyam agreed to go slower with him, and they lagged behind. When they reached the crowd, Yeshua had already been given over to the will of the people, and they could see the purple robe and the crown of thorns. Rina pushed her way to the front of the crowd. She wanted to know what was going to happen. Roman centurions seemed to appear out of nowhere. Two more men were in chains with them. Rina’s heart sank. One of them was Dismas. She had not seen him since she was a little girl, but she was sure of it.
She had seen a crucifixion only once before, and that was way off in the distance. She couldn’t stay and she couldn’t leave either. Each man was made to carry his own cross, the soldiers cracking whips to keep them motivated. Yeshua was so covered in blood he was almost unrecognizable. The group began to move, the crowd jeering and following in lock step. Rina could not believe how many children were there with their parents. Surely these people had enough sense to keep their kids away from this kind of violence. She grew up in an environment where her father did his best to keep her away from these kinds of things.
She did not join in the chanting. She just kept her head down. In the commotion, her mother and Aaliyah must have been pushed back by the crowd. She couldn’t worry about that now. The walk to Golgotha was longer than she expected. Fighting back tears, she didn’t want the other people to think she felt in any way sorry for them. They were so mean. Every time she was about to collect her thoughts, another crack of the whip came. It made her jump every time. Each time she heard a scream in pain, she winced. Yeshua was the first in line to carry his cross. Rina could see his body give way under its weight, and he stumbled. The centurion picked a man from the crowd to carry it.
CHAPTER 48
Ezekiel and Elyam caught up to the women by this point. Ezekiel was feeling a little better. At least that is what he told himself. When the crowd spread out at Golgotha, the place of the skull, Ezekiel could see a little bit better. Still holding out hope that his father was not one of the prisoners to be executed, he sat down on a stump to take a breath.
Elyam, Ester, and Aaliyah all stopped as well. Ezekiel was glad for the rest. It was as if all his blood rushed into his head in a moment. His nose began to bleed again, and now his eye was swelling up.
All his hopes that his father was not being executed were shattered on the first strike of the hammer. The scream he heard was from Dismas, he knew it. Immediately, Ezekiel tried to get up and move toward the sound. Elyam held him back.
“Slow down, there is nothing you can do,” said Elyam. Aaliyah and Ester were crying, and Ezekiel had never seen this look on his grandfather’s face before. If he could cry, he would. He once held on to the dream that someday he would know his father and his father would somehow show that he cared for his family. Now, in a slow and agonizing moment, he knew his hopes of knowing his father and gaining his father’s approval were dashed. He didn’t want to look, but the spectacle demanded his attention. After the three men were nailed to their crosses amid the screams, he could see them being raised. Now he could see his father clearly.
To his surprise he saw Sittish on one side of Yeshua and his father on the other. He was still too far away to hear anything they said. The crowd was too thick for them to push through. So the four of them had to stay to the outer reaches of the crowd. Upon seeing his father tortured, Ezekiel sank to his knees and threw up. Moving to all fours, he heaved again and again. Aaliyah pulled his curly hair back. Elyam tried his best to keep the crowd out of the way. Ester put her hand on Aaliyah’s shoulder for moral support. No one knew what to say, so they said nothing.
CHAPTER 49
; Rina was close enough to hear the talking. As some of the men gambled for the crucified men’s possessions, she could hear the conversations on the crosses.
“Father forgive them. They do not know what they are doing,” said Yeshua in a strained voice. Rina wondered how a man who was being tortured could forgive others. She was so close she could read the sign they placed over his head. It read “This is the King of the Jews.” She wanted to focus more on Dismas, but she knew Dismas deserved everything that was happening to him. But Yeshua? Yeshua preached about peace. Doing good to those who persecute you. He did not seem like the revolutionary they claimed he was. This was proving to take a long time. She wondered if the crowds would die down after a while.
She wanted to leave but was afraid she would miss something. She prayed for a miracle, and the miracle never came. Blood trickled down from Yeshua’s hands. Gasping for air as he tried to put pressure on the nail in his feet, it was at that moment that she heard Sittish speak up first.
“If you are truly the Messiah, why don’t you save yourself and us?”
Dismas replied, “Don’t you fear God? We have both been sentenced for the things we have done. It is right that we are being punished. This man has done nothing wrong!” Turning his head toward Yeshua, he said, “Please, will you remember me when you enter into your kingdom?”
Yeshua lifted his head. “Dismas, truly you will be with me when I enter paradise.”
Rina could not believe what she just heard. Dismas was forgiven his sins by the one who claimed to be the Son of God. Rina tried to push back against the crowd. She could take no more. She had to find Ezekiel and tell him. “Let me through,” she said. She broke through the crowd and made her way to the back. It took her quite some time to find Ezekiel and the rest of the family.
The sun was now in the middle of the sky. As soon as she found the family the world lost the sun—as if night had fallen early.
The ground shook, sending many running for their homes. The few who remained had nowhere to go. Rina held onto Ezekiel, holding him up. Elyam held onto both Aaliyah and Ester. When the ground stopped shaking, they decided it was time to go home. The darkness had not waned, and they were standing there with no oil for their lamps.
“Ezekiel, I have something to tell you when we get home,” said Rina. Her words barely registered with Ezekiel, who was now feeling the full weight of the pain from the beating he took. The grief he felt at that moment almost kept him from getting up. Everything around him was blurry. He knew he had to press on, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t watch the spectacle anymore. Dismas, his father, was dead or soon would be. He hated him. He hated him because of the way he left. He hated him for the time he felt was more important to fight a losing battle. He hated himself for not taking responsibility when he could have. He deserved the beating. He probably deserved worse. Ezekiel the coward. So afraid for his and his mother’s life that he failed to fight the Romans off of his father. He failed to rescue him. He was so blinded by his own ambition that he didn’t see the big picture, and now his father was dead. Maybe Hadwin too. If God was real, then he was cruel and didn’t fully understand the weakness of men. Still, a beacon deep in his soul told him a different story. A story of redemption if he would just listen. He couldn’t listen now. He just wanted to die. He turned once more to look back at his father hanging there. He heard one last scream—“It is finished!”—from Yeshua.
“He tried to tell me! He tried to tell me, and I wouldn’t listen!” A rage built up inside of Ezekiel.
“You don’t understand!” shouted Rina.
“No, you don’t understand. He tried to tell me back when I sold the dagger! He told me someone would die if I sold it. If I didn’t return the money! He didn’t tell me it was my father!” Ezekiel broke down and sobbed, falling to his knees and then curling up on the ground like a baby.
“Ezekiel, I heard something. Something Yeshua said to your father. He forgave his sins!” Rina shouted over the noise of the crowd rushing past.
“He couldn’t even save himself from that cross. How could he forgive my father’s sins?” Ezekiel cried. He was hyperventilating so much that Elyam thought he would pass out right there. Rain had started by this time, and Elyam hurried everyone. They all did their best to lift Ezekiel, but he was having none of it. Rina elected to stay with him as the rest ran to their house.
“Just let me die,” said Ezekiel.
“No!” said Rina. Ezekiel started to fade out of consciousness.
“No! You can’t die on me, Ezekiel! I need you! We all need you! You can’t do this!”
“Just let me die! It’s my fault. All of it. Just let me die!”
“I am not going to let you die, Ezekiel! I didn’t when we were kids, and I’m not now!” she cried.
With that Ezekiel felt himself going to sleep. He never intended to wake up. If his will was strong enough he would just fade into nonexistence. The whole world went black.
That was the plan, but God, or the gods, would not let him die. He woke the next morning inside his room, on his mat. He pieced together the fragments of memories after Elyam had brought his donkey. How the old man had lifted him onto it was a miracle in itself. Rina was there when he woke. It was obvious she had been crying.
He knew he was awake, but he felt as though he were dying. Rina tried to offer him some food. He didn’t want it.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. Leave me alone.”
“Well, when you are ready, I’m here,” said Rina. Elyam entered the room with a wineskin full of water. Rina stood up and walked out.
“She hasn’t left your side since you collapsed out there. You can’t buy that kind of love or devotion.” Elyam left the wineskin on the floor next to Ezekiel. “Drink it. You may not want to live, but she needs you to.”
Ezekiel still said nothing. He just pretended his family was not there. Elyam nodded his head and left the room. Walking past Rina, he said, “Just give him time. He will come around.”
The next day was the same. Ezekiel did not say anything to anyone. He just moped around. Aaliyah and Rina both tried to talk to him. He would just go for a walk. Ezekiel could not help but overhear a conversation about the previous day’s events. They took his father to an unmarked grave. Yeshua was the only one of the three who had a grave worthy of anyone of respect. Ezekiel could not bring himself to speak. He just went about his chores in silence.
On the third day Ezekiel went for his walk. His spirits were lifted slightly as his wounds began to heal. He still could not bring himself to talk about it to anyone, but for the first time he felt the possibility of moving on, at least for the moment. That was his plan. To just walk away. To walk away from the pain, from Rina, from his faith, and everything he knew. He decided to pack his things. Rina was better off without him. In time they would all see it. They would see the phony he was.
______________
He gathered his things early in the morning before the sun was up and slipped out of the house. When he reached the outskirts of the city, he saw a lone figure sitting on a log. He tried to walk past without being noticed, but the man called to him in a voice he knew all too well.
“Ezekiel, why don’t you come over and sit with me for a while?” Ezekiel, about to faint, did as he was told. He couldn’t help but stare at the man whose death he had witnessed just three days before.
“You are here? How are you here? I saw you die.”
“Death cannot hold the Son of God.”
“So, if you conquered death, then why can my father not be here with you?”
“Your father could not come back from the grave. But I tell you the truth, he is in a better place than you could ever imagine,” said Yeshua.
“So, you did save yourself. You just didn’t see fit to save anyone else,” said Ezekiel.
“Pull that dagger out,” said Yeshua. Ezekiel, amazed that he knew he had it, did as he was told.
“The craftsman who made this d
agger used fire to refine the gold and fire to forge this blade. Through pain and suffering, you are saved. So was your father.”
“I don’t understand,” said Ezekiel.
“Remember when I wanted to make you a fisher of men?”
“Yes.”
“Well, in a similar way, Dismas is my thief now. He is forgiven. He is in heaven.”
Ezekiel felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach. It was all too much. How could my father be in heaven? he asked himself.
“Will I ever see him again?” he asked.
“That is up to you,” said Yeshua. He rose from his seated position and Ezekiel could see the scars where the nails tore through his flesh. His forehead still bore the marks of the thorny crown. Looking up the road, Yeshua pointed.
“I believe your future is headed this way.”
Ezekiel looked up and saw Rina headed toward them.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
It has been such a rewarding journey writing Yeshua’s Thief. The best part is that the story isn’t over. As Christ-followers, our stories are never over. Be on the lookout for book two, Yeshua’s Slave. In the meantime, visit yeshuasthief.com to read blog posts, short stories, and learn more about Yeshua. Sign up for my email list and get exclusive content, including stories that tie into Yeshua’s world.
I love hearing from my readers and fellow writers. Please check out my website—readdison.com—for news, blog, products, and books. I look forward to seeing what God does with your story! I can also be found on Facebook at www.facebook.com/yeshuasthief and a myriad of other social media platforms.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
R.E. Addison is an assistant pastor in South Florida. He and his wife Blanca have two children, Ryan and Karlie. He holds a Bachelor’s Degree in Philosophy and Religion from Palm Beach Atlantic University and a Master of Business Administration from Ohio Christian University. He has written many plays, including Yeshua’s Thief the Musical and Bamboozling Scrooge, adapted into a book later in 2021. Also, there are plans for the subsequent novels Yeshua’s Slave and Yeshua’s Way.
Yeshua's Thief Page 17