The priests returned to Pilate with a mob, demanding justice.
In a last, desperate attempt to make the people see how outrageous their demands were, he brought out a man from the prisons. Back then, it was customary that every year, Pilate let one prisoner go, as determined by the people. Pilate presented them with a choice—to free Jesus, or to free a man called Barabbas, a notorious murderer and rapist.
Surely, rational logic would make Jesus the obvious choice. He was harmless.
Sadly… his plan backfired.
Pilate was appalled when the mob started to chant and cheer for Barabbas instead.
Barabbas was released.
Pilate asked the people what they would have him do with Jesus. And the people responded, in a symphony of senseless hatred, to crucify him. Pilate did not want to do that and refused, saying he would chastise him instead.
To appease the crowd, Pilate had Jesus, who was guilty of no wrong, severely punished. He was beaten and whipped within an inch of his life. Several days later, Pilate brought Jesus before the priests and crowd once again to release him. Maddened by unseen evil forces, the people cried for more justice, unsatisfied. The devil wanted Jesus put down. He was a great threat.
And Pilate had no choice but to give the crazed, blood thirsty masses what they wanted.
Surely, crucifixion was one of the worst punishments of ancient times. It involved being nailed to a wooden stake and forced to hang by the hands until the body slowly crushed itself from the inside. The victim did not die from starvation or pain or loss of blood, but from suffocation. In due time, the muscles would lose the ability to support the body and the chest cavity would collapse.
It was slow, excruciating, and horrible.
To make a mockery of Jesus, the people had a crown of thorns placed upon his head, hailing him on the way to his execution as the King of the Jews. But never once did Jesus complain, curse them, or struggle against his captors. Because he knew, and he had known his whole life, that this was the reason he was born.
This was his purpose. This was his duty.
He came to die so that man may live, to take up all the sins of the world on his shoulders as surely as he bore his own cross to the place where he would be killed. He would pay the penalty in our place—someone perfect, slain in a sinners stead. And in so doing, he would wipe the slate of sin and filth clean, acting as a veil, a lens, through which God could look and see people worthy of heaven. He came to open the door for all who would believe.
No one comes to the Father, to God, except through Jesus. No one will ever be good enough for heaven. It is physically impossible for humans. But through Jesus, any can come, just by the simple act of faith. Only through him can men dwell in eternal Paradise after death with their Creator.
Any can come, but the way is narrow.
The story does not end with his death though. Where would be the hope in a story that ended in death?
Chloe knows that three days later, the tomb, given to Jesus’ body by Joseph of Arimathea, was found empty. Jesus appeared to his disciples, alive, with the scars from the nail holes still plain in his hands and feet, as proof. He told them to go out into the world and spread the good news and the Christian faith.
That was their duty, their purpose.
It was not an easy one though. The majority of the disciples met horrible deaths like Jesus, aside from John, who was spared to write the book of Revelations. A few months after his resurrection, Jesus left his disciples, departing and ascending into heaven—a living God who still reigns today, looking to save, to comfort, and to forgive.
All that being said, Chloe wants to capture aspects of the story that most relate to contemporary culture and troubles.
Things like Judas’ betrayal and the avarice, contempt, and jealousy of the priests.
Things like Mary’s teen pregnancy, the disappointment of her family, and Joseph taking the high road to be with her regardless, sticking around as a good example to all men.
Things like mob mentality, and wrongful persecution.
Things like the trials of being a leader and having a solid foundation for what you believe in, no matter what hardships may come your way.
Things like the need for acceptance and forgiveness and love.
The directors and producers share her vision, of which she could not be more thankful.
They take it into account when adjusting dialogue sequences. Chloe wants to portray Jesus as approachable, not some untouchable deity. She does not want him haloed in ethereal light or presented like some floating specter. Jesus was fully man and fully God. He must be depicted as divinity within the imperfect shell of a man.
Darker skinned, as was regionally correct. Dark haired. Sometimes dirty.
The disciples are capable, and often found guilty, of many faults. They were hardly perfect people and easy for her to draw connections with. Very relatable. Even Peter, who was considered to be Jesus’ rock, cracks at one point. But all those tribulations were meant to mold and shape them into what they would become. And Jesus loved them no less for each mistake. If anything, he loved them more.
Problems come to everyone, and sometimes they seem insurmountable. But Chloe wants to present the idea of leaning on Jesus in those times. She wants people to know, namely in the highly individualistic American culture, that it is okay to ask for help, to seek assistance.
She had to learn that the hard way.
Chapter 16
Chloe, standing in the kitchen of her condo, takes a quiet moment to marvel at how far she has come over a bite of mint chocolate chip ice cream.
As nerve wrecking as it was to work in Hollywood’s shadow before, she is much more comfortable with it and confident with herself now. The director, Frank Berg, was very easy to talk to. The actors were just as agreeable on set as they were offset. Chloe got to witness several of them becoming saved as a result of working on this film.
Strange things happened during production as well though, things no one could ignore or explain. Hauntings. Mysterious accidents.
Chloe knows that the devil was less than thrilled about the project and was going to do his best to hinder its progress. Luckily, faith and prayer made it all bearable. In the entire two years of production, from running lines to filming to editing, they only lost two team members, who quit to escape the peculiar events.
Frank always knew what to say in trying times and Chloe cannot help but feel God had his hand in his selection to undertake the movie.
She made many new friends along the way and strengthened her faith as well as the ability to share her own testimony.
She was so excited when James flew out for the premiere in California. Walking the red carpet was deliciously terrifying. She was seeing flashes of light for at least an hour afterwards and is still astounded that she did not trip all over herself on her way into the theater. All the same, she was very grateful to have James’ arm to lean on. He was looking at her throughout most of the pictures, which was more than evident in the next tabloids.
Chloe tries not to look through them or pay attention to the paparazzi. She has never liked being the center of attention, whether it was at Orion’s or on the red carpet.
This is such a dream come true! This is everything she has ever wanted.
Well… almost everything.
•
Tonight, there is a poster for a new release on the wall outside the town’s most popular theatre. The title of the movie is ‘Passion of the Cross.’ All the work has paid off, with interest.
A long line extends from the cashier all the way into the parking lot. The entire place is bustling with activity. The box office can hardly keep pace with the impatient crowd, let alone the snack bar. While it is not the movie premier, as that was an eye-opener in and of itself, it is the premier of it in their town.
Chloe and James sit at the back, watching the movie with the crowd who has no idea they are present. Chloe glances around at some of the patrons, seeing
mixed emotions on their faces. Some are crying, some laugh. The prevailing sense, however, is conviction.
Chloe reaches across the divider to hold James’ hand, oblivious to the shock on his face and the fact that she has never initiated that kind of contact between them since their kiss in the park. He sits, grinning like an idiot, beside her.
Chloe’s attention is elsewhere.
Another young man sits close enough to make out his face under the soft light of the screen. He is dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans, his black hair styled not unlike the gothic boys she remembers from high school—hanging in his eyes, hiding him. His lip and nose are pierced. His ears are gaged. He is in tears, fist pressed to his mouth as he watches intently.
Her heart goes out to him. She experiences a spate of guilt, knowing she is part of the reason he is so upset. Chloe sees no one else for the duration of the movie, making a silent promise to herself to try and talk with him after.
When the movie ends, a message appears on the screen, asking everyone to remain seated for another two minutes. Amidst the confusion, lingering sniffles, and murmurs of conversation throughout the audience, the screen changes. A question appears.
“Chloe Cleopatra Taylor, will you be my wife?”
Chloe looks at a beaming James, stunned. He stands and extends his hand to her, producing the Tiffany box from the pocket of his slacks. The audience quickly catches on and turns towards the back as some of the theatre lights come up.
James waits patiently, as he has always done and will always do, for her answer. He stands like a statue—the pinnacle of everything she has ever wanted and everything she will ever need. In spite of all they have been through, he remained the only constant in her life. And he still wants her, regardless of the fact that he has probably seen her at her very worst. He is a godsend in its truest form. And she really truly does want to spend the rest of her life with him, telling him so.
Chloe chokes on her tears, and can only nod her answer. She takes James’ hand. He pulls her to her feet and they embrace. He picks her flats up from the floor and she kicks them up instinctively. They laugh, the sound strangled by happy tears. The audience erupts in cheers. The people start to file out of the exit after another moment.
The young man from the theater walks through the parking lot. He wipes his eyes again with the worn sleeve of his jacket. Chloe hurriedly catches up to him.
“Wait up! Hold on a second!” she calls. He turns towards her with a look of mild alarm, not unlike someone who is afraid of being caught in a place they are not supposed to be. She wonders if his parents know he is here. “Hi,” she says, assuming a gentle smile as she hooks her hair behind her ears.
He is probably around seventeen and a little shorter than she is. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, suddenly interested in his shoes. Quietly, “Hey.” He sniffs.
Chloe takes a breath. “I saw you in the movie theater,” she starts, hoping he will look up so she can catch his eyes. “You seemed troubled. I just… I wanted to know if you were ok.”
To her relief, the boy does look up. He looks up and meets her eyes. “I am now,” he replies.
Chloe could swear she has never heard a more sincere statement. She blinks, seeing physical evidence of the impact made by her work in another human face and heart. Chloe has made a difference and somehow she knows that even if this boy was the only one in the entire world that her script touched, she would be no less fulfilled and content.
As he shuffles his feet, “Congratulations on your engagement.”
“Thank you.” She has no idea why she feels so compelled to say what she does next, but she says it anyway. “God bless you.” Chloe smiles back at him, reaching out and gently squeezing his arm. She lets him go. The boy nods to her, turns on his heel, and continues on his way. Just then, James catches up to her, jogging across the asphalt. He glances between Chloe and the boy.
“We good?” he asks, assuming an affectionate grin.
“No,” Chloe replies. James falters and stiffens. A radiant grin explodes onto Chloe’s face. “We are great!” she corrects. James scoops her up into his arms and presses a kiss against her lips. She strings her arms around his neck. They’re both smiling, hearts alight with devotion and love.
“Let’s go home,” James suggests. He picks her up, bridal-style, and carries her towards their brand new BMW, parked in the front. They can both still remember the beat up hunk of junk he used to drive her around in—the temperamental piece of scrap that sometimes refused to start. They look back now and they are grateful. And Chloe never has to “say anything” again.
•
At their condo roughly a month later, there is a gathering of guests.
Everyone is formally dressed. The party is catered. There is even a man in a tuxedo delivering champagne and other non-alcoholic wines on a silver tray. James walks around, greeting and meeting people. There are pictures of him and Chloe on walls and shelves. Some are together. Some are apart. Some of them he took himself. Whatever the case, both of them look so happy.
People are chatting and laughing together in garrulous clusters.
Chloe descends the stairs in a scarlet red dress. It ties behind her neck, the satin straps spilling down her bare back. The skirt reaches the floor, flowering out around her heels. She is an absolute vision. The room seems to fall in a hush on her entrance. James takes her hand.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” James begins. “The lady of the hour!” The room applauds.
Chloe assumes a humble, tight smile. Her cheeks are stained with a blush almost as dark as her dress. She leans over to James, whispering to him through her wan smile. “Is all this really necessary?”
“Absolutely,” he mutters back. “Just smile and wave.” So she does. It is all rather embarrassing. She cannot help but feel this is taking it to an extreme. Her own success is still bewildering. It seems too unreal!
Chloe helps herself to a glass of wine and some caviar—a dish unknown to her only a year ago. Guests come to meet and greet her. James takes a glass of wine from the passing tray and clears his throat.
“Everyone,” he begins. The din dies down as all the guests turn their faces attentively towards him. “Thank you all for coming. I don’t know how many of you have seen the newspapers. ‘Passion on the Cross’ has topped the movie chart for 8 consecutive weeks.” The room applauds. Chloe beams.
“We have received thousands of fan email from people whose lives have been changed. So far, over 3 million people worldwide have received the Lord Jesus Christ in response to the film’s message.” The room applauds again. Chloe blushes fiercely, but cannot contain her grin.
James continues, “We have letters from people who were contemplating suicide. Alcoholics, drug addicts, prostitutes, criminals—all turning away from sin, and turning to the Lord instead. The question has often been asked, can one man,” with a glance at Chloe, “or one woman, make a difference? Well, I tell you all—Yes. Jesus did. My beautiful fiancée Chloe did.” James brandishes his glass towards her in a toast. “To Chloe.”
Everyone else raises their glasses too, chanting her name in a collective echo. They all drink. In the midst of the excitement, Chloe sees her mother standing near the door. The sight is sobering. She has not spoken to Cleopatra in over a year. Chloe sets her glass aside, strides across the room, and meets the woman at the door. Her mouth works for a moment, brows knit together in earnest.
“Hi mom,” she eventually manages.
Cleopatra manages a weary smile in return, as though she does not do it often. Then again, she rarely did it even when they saw each other on a daily basis. “You look different,” she says. Chloe has trouble deciphering if it is a compliment or a backhanded insult. But she is so relieved to see her mother that she pays it no mind.
“So do you,” Chloe says with a growing, genuine smile. It’s true. Cleopatra looks a lot better. She looks younger, happier, and healthier.
Cleopatra nods. She swallows
thickly, glancing aside before she meets Chloe’s eyes again. “Rehab,” she admits. Chloe is floored. “It has that effect on people.”
They stare at one another. So much hangs in the air, but only one thing needs to be said. To Chloe’s surprise, it comes from her mother’s mouth.
“I miss you.” Tears spring to Chloe’s eyes. Chloe instantly hugs her. Cleopatra embraces her tightly. They stay that way, supporting one another, physically and emotionally, for the first time. “I really appreciate what you have done.”
Chloe laughs tearfully. “I want to do so much more.”
Cleopatra pulls back, sliding her hands down Chloe’s arms to grasp her daughter’s hands. She takes a deep breath. “I’ve said and done things I’m not proud of—”
Chloe shakes her head, squeezing her mother’s hands tightly. “All we have from now on is this moment. Right now, I’m happy. All ma’ favorite people are here now. No need to spoil it. I forgive you, mom.”
Cleopatra stares at her with a strange sad gleam in her eyes, far enough away that it could be misinterpreted as a trick of the light. There is something hidden there, a secret known only to herself in the farthest reaches of her heart. Chloe presumes it has something to do with love. She cannot handle that at this moment. No more tears.
“There is something I need to tell you,” Cleopatra starts.
“It can wait.” Chloe pulls her into the party. Chloe starts introducing her to her guests who receive her with warmth and enthusiasm. They talk sparingly of their home town, but nothing of their past relationship. If Chloe has her way, no one will ever broach that subject again.
In this moment, everything is perfect. Everything is put right again, like so many pieces of a puzzle. All is well until half an hour later, when James carries a cell phone to Chloe.
“There is someone on the phone for you,” he supplies. “She says her name is Meryl.”
Chloe blinks several times, frowning softly. Her mind reels. “I don’t know any Meryl.” But at the same time, the name strikes an odd cord in her. It is as though she has seen an image from a past life, something she was supposed to remember, but forgot. Something about an extra mile…
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