Pilate: That’s fine. Let those damned priests in! They can’t
even let you sleep in peace!
A
Priest: Governor Pilate, it’s almost dusk.
Very soon, the afternoon star will announce the coming of the Great
Sabbath…
Pilate: Ha! I don’t give a damn! Since dawn it hasn’t stopped
raining. The sky is darker than a tomb… and you expect to see a star!
Another
Priest: You’re
right, Your Excellency. Just the same, we only have a few hours left
before the Great Sabbath of the Passover…
Pilate: You’ve already said that. What do you want?
Priest: It’s about the three rebels who were crucified in Golgotha,
Governor. They can’t stay there at the start of the feast… Our custom
prohibits that… It would be a grave impurity.
Pilate: So, where do you want them to be…?
Priest: In the pit, Your Excellency.
Under the ground. Better for them to die
well and to be buried well.
Pilate: No one has ever told me they’re dead.
Priest: No, of course not, but why don’t you spare these cursed
ones a long agony? After all, they have been purged of all their rebellion.
The three
were still cringing from the pain of having been nailed on the cross.
Jesus had already expired, at about three
o’clock in the afternoon. Dimas
and Gestas, the two zealot rebels, who were
likewise crucified but less tortured than Jesus, lingered much longer.
Beside them were their weeping mothers, awaiting their death… Beside
the cross where Jesus’ lifeless but still warm body was hanging, the
women and I were seated on the wet ground by the hillside, weeping and
consoling each other….
Mary: John, my son, what will they do with Jesus now…?
John: I dunno, Mary… I dunno….
Magdalene: Look Mary, as a Magdalene, I’m telling you, they aren’t
going to throw Jesus into the pit…. We’ll bury him… like a great man!
Mary: Young woman, you know we don’t even
have a piece of land for a sepulcher... not even a few dinarii
with which to buy a decent sheet… I don’t know what to do…
The hill
of Golgotha was sown with blood-drenched poles of crosses. Around it
were several deep pits excavated out of bare rocks, where the bodies
of the victims were thrown away...
John: I dunno… Perhaps, if we could
speak with this Nicodemus… he was a friend of Jesus… We saw him here
in Jerusalem before the incident in the Temple… He is a very influential man… If this damned Pilate
could give him the body to be buried in another place…
Magdalene: That’s it, John! I hope they don’t throw his body into
the pit. Oh my God!
Peter, Andrew
and some members of the group stayed close to the walls, daring not
to step further to be near. After Jesus had died, only a few people
stayed in the vicinity of Golgotha. Only a few
hours were left before the Great Sabbath of the Passover, and a number
of them, tired and weary after a long and gloomy rainy day, returned
to the city to enjoy the warmth of their houses….
Tulius: Hey
you, are they dead?!
Soldier: The Nazarene, yes, but not the other two. Look at them!
Through the
gate of Ephraim appeared three soldiers with their clubs and lances.
They climbed through the bare rocks with great strides…
Tulius: This
must be done fast. Orders from the Governor.
The feast of the Jews starts at sunset and these bodies can’t stay here.
Soldier: What do we do?
Tulius: Let’s
break the legs of these two to finish them off.
Soldier: That’s a good idea, damn it! I’m sick and tired of so
much rain and seeing so much weeping....! Then you’re paid for what
is due you.
Tulius: Hey,
women, get away from here, stay away from the crosses!
Women: Murderers, murderers!
Tulius: I
told you to stay away from here… go away!
Two soldiers
went near the crosses where Dimas and Gestas
were grappling with death, and raising their thick clubs, they landed
violent blows on their knees and legs, crushing the bones of the two…
A
Woman: Oh my God, let this hell come to an end….
It did not
take long for death to claim its toll. The bodies of the two young men,
losing the support from their legs, collapsed, and very soon, they could
no longer breathe. Their faces grimaced in terrible pain during that
final moment….
Tulius: What
about this other one? Are you sure he’s dead…?
Soldier: Yeah, after giving out a loud cry, just a while ago,
he expired….
Tulius: That’s strange. So he died fast….
Soldier: He wouldn’t have lasted long…. He came here very badly
beaten…
Mary: Please don’t touch him anymore… He’s really dead…
Tulius: Get away from here, woman… We’ve got to make sure he’s
dead…. These are the orders…
Magdalene: Damn it, once and for all, leave him in peace!
Tulius: C’mon, hooker, I told you to stay away from here!
One of the
soldiers gripped his lance and drew it close to Jesus’ dead body… In
one certain stroke, he pierced his heart… The last drop of blood that
remained of that crushed body came dripping
through the heart…
Tulius: That’s
it. Job concluded. My, what a day!
The soldier
took his lance and with one corner of his old red cloak, removed the
blood from its tip….
Soldier: Know what, Tulius? This man,
I dunno… I have always said that it is only
in death where one really gets to know the people... This one was a
good man… I think he is innocent…
Tulius: Hey,
something must’ve hit you…. Didn’t you say you got his clothes?… C’mon, let’s stop being sentimental… Bring them down fast
and throw them into the pit. We must return to the quarters and report
to the Governor. We’ll be seeing you there! They say good wine will
be served at dinner tonight!
Soldier: C’mon, you… let’s get them all down!
Mary: John, son, run and look for this man, Nicodemus… Let’s
see if he can do something…
Magdalene: I’m going with you, John!
John: No, Magdalene, you stay here! I’ll be back soon!
John: At last I’ve found you, Nicodemus…
Nicodemus: I know he’s dead, I know…. I saw him from the walls…
Just a while ago, I’ve been pacing the floor like a fool… Damn it! Why
weren’t we able to prevent it?
John: We need your help now, Nicodemus… It’s about the body
of Jesus.
Nicodemus: Joseph, the friends of the Nazarene need us… You have
an access to the Governor. He knows your wife very well, doesn’t he?
Well, go and ask him to give you his body so he can be properly buried.
Joseph
of Arimathea: Don’t
worry, Nicodemus, I’ll go and see Pilate right away.
Pilate: So, the man has died?
Soldier: Yes, Governor. He is dead, just as I am standing right
before you now. I pierced his heart with my lance.
Pilate: Very good. You can go…
Soldier: As you wish, Governor…
Pilate: And you, Joseph of Arimathea…
since when have you become a follower of this crazy prophet…?
Joseph: The crazy ones are we who did not know how to defend
him.
Pilate: What?… Are you having some remorse?…
Well, take it easy, man, it’s nothing serious… What do you want? His
body? Well, you can have it. If that will please you, then I
give you my persmission.
Joseph: Give me a written authorization, Governor.
Nothing was
talked about in the streets of Jerusalem
except the incident in Golgotha. During those
hours in the afternoon, the rain began to cease and the sun timidly
warmed the terraces of the houses… The people, saddened by the event,
and trying to bury everything in oblivion, started busying themselves
preparing for that grand sabbatical respite….
Nicodemus: Of course, John!… You don’t
have to worry about the money, nor the place. I have already spoken
with my friend Joseph and he can bury Jesus in a new tomb which he has
intended for his family. It’s just near the hill. Now, go back to the
women, it’s not good to leave them alone… I’ll take care of whatever
is needed. The stores will soon close and we have to hurry….
When I returned
to the hill of Golgotha, they had already brought Jesus and one of the
zealots down from the cross. They were bringing the other down… Jesus’
body, his arms stretched, was still in the
form of a cross, and was resting on the ground, on Mary’s cloak. In
a squatting position, beside him, his mother was looking at him in silence….
The women were standing, as they wept, biting their lips… Matthew and
a few others had gone near, overcoming their fear. No one, in that completely
disfigured and bloodstained face, recognized the much-loved features
of our friend…
Peter: This has been a nightmare, John, a bad dream....
John: Come, Peter. Let’s talk to the soldiers. We have an authorization
to bury him nearby.
While Peter
and I were talking to the centurion, showing him our permit, Mary lay
down the wounded head of Jesus on her lap and began to clean it with
her rain-drenched scarf…
Mary: You look different, Jesus…. What have they done to you,
my son… I told you, I was afraid… When you
went to Capernaum, I told you: “Don’t get yourself into trouble, son”…
You ignored me and you even had me trailing behind you…. You said: “Mother,
you were always courageous and a fighter”… No, my son,
that was nonsense… You were the brave one… Up to the end, Jesus,
up to the end… Like your father… If Joseph had seen
you…. I could almost hear him say: “Woman, let the boy be brave
that he may stand up for the rest. This is what we have to teach him,
this is what God wants from him.” You learned it my son, and well… “Now
he has to go back to Nazareth, to till the land, to fetch water from the well, and
harden his hands with work…” Then how many years later, “Neighbor Mary,
neighbor Mary, here comes the Moreno to see you!”… You’ll return no more, son…. You’ll never
go back. What will I do now that I’m alone… without Joseph and you?… Why didn’t you listen to me, son? Jerusalem is bad, don’t go to Jerusalem… I was so afraid then… you see… but I’m so proud of
you, for all that you have done... All that you said always lingered
in my heart… when you were away, in Capernaum… Yes, son, I also believe God gives his kingdom to the
poor… to those who weep… I can’t, son, I can’t… my son…
John: Mary, let’s go, it’s getting late…
With no time
to clean Jesus’ body, we anointed it hurriedly with a mixture of perfumes
of myrrh and aloe, brought by Nicodemus in accordance with a custom
in my country in burying the dead. Then we wrapped his body in a big
fine sheet which Joseph had bought… Nobody uttered a word. We were in
great haste and there was so much sadness in us… The rain had stopped
and a fresh wind fluffed up our wet robes… Peter and I carried Jesus’
body. Very near Golgotha was a garden where Joseph
of Arimathea had a new sepulcher. No one had
been buried there yet. There inside the deep cave which was carved out
of rock, we placed Jesus’ cadaver. We closed the entrance with a thick
round stone, which was like a wheel.
John: Let’s go, Mary. The Sabbath has started…
For a few
minutes, Mary rested her forehead on that humid slab… Then, she reached
for my arm to keep her from slipping and started to walk. We returned
to Jerusalem with her… The
afternoon was coming to an end over the walled city and the Temple’s
trumpets announced the start of rest of the Great Sabbath.
Jesus
died on the Friday of the week of the Passover, which was a “day of
preparation” for the Jews, since the following day, Sabbath (Saturday),
no one was supposed to work. It was a day of rest as imposed by the
Law. Since it was the great Sabbath of the Passover, that day was even
more solemn than the rest of the Saturdays of the year. The great Sabbath
began in the afternoon when the first stars started to appear in the
sky. The corpses of the victims were “impure” and, according to the
law should not mar, with their presence, the feast of that day. This
explains the urgency with which the execution ended and Jesus’ interment
had to be carried out.
Some crucified
victims remained hanging on the cross for days, in endless agony. The
Roman laws had provided for a faster death: by fracturing the bones
of the legs through violent blows. The crushed or smashed condition
of the entire body triggered the fatal asphyxia. This brutal method
was applied to the revolutionary zealots. In the case of Jesus, there
was no need to break any bone. He had died soon enough. The piercing
by the soldier was a way to ascertain that the victim was really dead.
It was like a “coup de grace” or a death blow.
Joseph
of Arimathea and Nicodemus, of the ruling
class, sympathized with Jesus, although clandestinely, and at the last
moment, they dared to claim the body and have it buried with a certain
dignity.
A classic
image and very much loved by the pious people through the centuries,
has been of Mary with her dead son in her arms. It is “La Pieta,” sung
by musicians and poets, and immortalized in paintings and sculptures.
Jesus’ death was the ultimate proof of Mary’s faith, who, like her own
son, did not count on the resurrection. Mary, who had vaguely understood
his son’s projects during the first moments, and who had tried to share
with him his risks and hopes, must have felt on that day an infinite
solitude, a profound feeling of failure, of sadness, of nothingness.
She must have felt the pride too, for the courage shown by her son.
For the
Israelites, a respectable burial was of great importance; it was a show
of affection for the dead. That of Jesus, because of the circumstances,
had to be done with the minimum of traditional requirements. The corpse
was cleansed and anointed with oil. The myrrh was an aromatic resin
of great value, and this was also used to anoint the bride and groom
on their wedding day. The aloe was a fragrant essence from the sap of
certain trees from India.
It was used to perfume bedding, dresses and shrouds. A sheet was used
as a shroud, or canvasses as sashes, although it is not known exactly
how these were placed on the body of the deceased.
Since
the ancient times, Israel
buried her dead in natural caves to spare arable lands. Jesus was placed
in a private tomb, bought by Joseph of Arimathea
for his family and in which no one had been buried before. By making
use of the natural excavation of the rock, the place was set up in the
form of a room, with one or a few stone tables where the cadavers were
put. Sometimes, niches were dug along the walls. In many cases – and
one was that of Jesus’ sepulcher – this room or sepulchral chamber was
preceded by an antesala or a small hall. The
entrance to the tomb was sealed with a heavy, round stone that could
turn like a wheel.
After
two thousand years, the stone bench where Jesus’ cadaver was desposited
is still preserved in the exact place where that garden near Golgotha
was found. Inside the Basilica of the Holy Sepulcher, in the Arabic
barrio of Jerusalem,
is this place, so transcendental for the Christian faith. In spite of
the abundant decoration accumulated throughthe
centuries, the structure of that cave can still be perfectly distinguished:
the anteroom, and a notice: “He is not here. He resurrected.”
Ever since
Saint Helen, the mother of the Roman emperor, Constantine, discovered
the exact location of the Calvary
through excavations ordered by her within this area of Jerusalem,
the so-called Holy Places (initially Golgotha
and the burial place of Jesus) were converted to centers of pilgrimage
for Christians from a number of neighboring countries. This happened
about three hundred years after Jesus’ death. The Holy Places also became
a reason for cruel wars. About a thousand and hundred years after Jesus’
death, these places were in the hands of the Muslims. Men from all over
Christian Europe became involved in wars called the Crusades. Aside
from the other political and economic motives, they tried to recover
these Holy Places. The Crusades lasted for two hundred years including
some intervals. They failed to redeem the Holy Sepulcher. What was worse
was, that in the name of the cross of Jesus, all sorts of plundering
and crime against the Arabs were committed, who also fought the Christians
with great violence.
(Mt 27:51-61; Mk
15:38-47; Lk 23:47-56; Jn
19:31-42)