I, Jude

By Mary F. Twitty

MARY F. TWITTY was born in Chicago. She attended DePaul University and was employed by two U.S. Congressmen. A mother and a grandmother, Mary resides in Florida. This is her third Historical Fiction; her first two were Hannahs Journey and Selective Discretion. She is also the author of a Childrens book, Ashley Visits Urchin Village. Marys second book of the trilogy Hannahs Journey will be available late 2009.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 25, 2009
• ISBN: 9781462828913

Mary F. Twitty

Mary F. Twitty, an eighty-six-year-old widow, mother, and grandmother, has written eight novels since her first one was published in 2004. Six are historical fiction: Hannah's Journey; Selective Discretion, I, Jude; Hannah, The Journey Continues; and Hallelujah, What a Ride; and the newest historical fiction is Hannah's Progeny, one children’s book, Ashley Visits Urchin Village, and a novella, Hi, I'm Your Child. She is presently working on her ninth novel.

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Prologue

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It goes without saying this novel could not have been written if Jesus, the Son of God, had not come to earth and made himself known to mankind. Therefore, all glory, honor, and love are his alone.

While researching the history of the apostles and disciples, I found priceless nuggets in interesting and unique places, even the Golden Legend. The Bibles: Jewish, Catholic, and Protestant were my richest resources for the actual words of Jesus and his apostles. My biblical research led me to many writings by historians such as Eusebius and Josephus, as well as those of today. Even recently, archeologists and historians are finding more hidden treasures, and various points of views are changing but never the Word of God.

Each chapter begins with an epigraph of quotations from the Old Testament and New Testament to show how Jesus the Christ had fulfilled all prophecies.

I, a follower of Christ, pay homage to him and pray that all who read this work will see my love, honor, and praise to him who sits on the throne.

So be it.

Mary F. Twitty

May 2009

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©1995 Cook Communications Ministries. The Atlas of the Bible Lands: An Illustrated Atlas of the Bible, edited by Harry Thomas Frank. Used with permission. May not be further reproduced.

All rights reserved.

1

To those who have been called, who are loved by God

the Father and kept by Jesus Christ.

—Jude 1

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AD 72

Dear brothers in Christ:

I, JUDE, A former scribe but now a servant of Christ from the village of Kokhaba, am writing to you while in a Roman prison awaiting my day of execution. I know it will be soon since I’ve gone through their trial; now they must establish what to them is the most opportune time. Afterward I shall be no more. How shall I meet my Lord and Savior? Not by stoning, nor by the way of the cross, nor between two horses running in opposite directions, but by archers. I am to be slain with arrows. How many? I do not know. My crime? Refusing to deny my faith in Jesus Christ.

My two grandsons, Zoker and James, visit often and as you know will continue to deliver my messages as well as my cousin, Symeon, Uncle Clopas’ son. I am pleased that he is the new bishop of our Jerusalem church.

While I am still among you, let me speak about my life, from the beginning until the end. Oy, I do know my ending. There are many memories floating about and crowding my mind.

I was the last child born of Joseph, the carpenter, and his wife, Mary. At the beginning, my childhood was no different from yours. I’ve misspoken. It was different, but I was not aware of it until he was crucified, died, and rose again! I had lived from birth until the age of eighteen not knowing my eldest brother’s real identity. But I am getting ahead of myself.

When I was four or five, my father gave me a newborn lamb since I had been present at its birth. The ewe was having great difficulty in birthing him; Jesus and Abba helped her. After the lamb was born, he was very still, so Abba began rubbing his chest while Jesus laid his hands on the lamb’s head and prayed. To this day, I remember his words although I am not certain of my age. Strange? I think not because every word he uttered in prayer came from the Holy Scriptures. The lamb began to whimper, and Abba quickly assisted it to stand. Soon he found his mama’s teat and commenced to feed himself. Looking at me, Abba said, Little lamb, I am giving him to you to look after. Remember prayer changes things.

I gave him much attention until it was time for him to be sold. I knew it had to be. Although I missed him, I was given a greater responsibility. Abba had made a small wooden trolley with two wheels to hold straw for his lambs. I did not like using it because the wheels would sometimes get stuck if it had been a rainy night. It was now my task to feed these lambs in their special pen, which was hedged in by a stone wall and a small gate. At the age of five or six, something interesting happened. At the time, I didn’t think so.

Lambs are unbelievably dumb. If I didn’t lead them to the hay, they would just stand there bleating. They are very noisy and easily frightened. Often, for my pleasure, I would scare them, and they would scatter in different directions. Thank Hashem the gate was always closed and locked. But one day, for some unknown reason, which still to this moment at the age of fifty-four, I cannot explain, the gate was not locked. That day, I was again teasing the lambs, and they bolted out of the gate and started running down the hill. I was terrified and began chasing after them, which only made the situation worse. I knew Abba would punish me severely if I had lost any of his lambs.

As I ran screaming after them, I fell and began to roll down the hill. When I stopped and stood, I saw Jesus walking slowly toward me. That frightened me more, until I saw the lambs were following him. I should have realized then that he was different. Later I learned what he had said about his sheep knowing his voice and that he is the good shepherd. However, I was only glad the lambs were being led back into their pen. Jesus closed the gate and secured it.

I began to cry and pleaded, Please don’t tell Abba. I don’t know how they got out. I thought I locked the gate. I was so frightened of being punished by him and then by my father that I became rigid as a stone. My heart was beating very fast, and I had to hold on to my chest for fear it would jump out. Looking into his eyes, I saw a gentleness that stirred me to my depth. I was to see that expression many times.

He stooped to hold my wet face in his hands. The warmth of those hands penetrated my very soul. I had never felt hands so strong, warm, and calming. He quietly, yet with a plain voice, replied, I will not if you promise never to neglect them again.

Oh, yes. I promise. The words came rushing out of my mouth. I was so glad that I had been spared a harsh punishment I would have promised anything. I never did it again.

It is peculiar that we have discernment and understanding after something occurs but not before. Why didn’t I think it peculiar that Jesus came along at that moment when I knew he was with our father in the carpenter’s stall, which was at least a mile away? I cannot say. I know now.

2

Jesus answered them. Destroy this temple, and I will

raise again in three days.

—John 2:19

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MY FIRST TRIP with the family to Jerusalem was during the month of Tishri (September) when I was ten years old. I still remember when we were afar off; the walled city loomed great and majestic before me. Herod lavished considerable sums of money, but it was well spent. Two mountains accented Jerusalem’s interior, Mount Moriah on the east where our temple stood and on the west was Mount Zion on which Herod’s palace was.

In the valley were the most extravagant homes I have ever seen. There was a Roman theater and a forum. There were many towers, colonnades, and Roman offices. I confess I never saw the interior of any of these buildings. There was a higher mountain, the Mount of Olives. Abba said it is over two thousand feet above sea level.

What I like most was our temple. It stood on a large square platform, all that was left of Solomon’s temple. The largest court was the Court of the Gentiles, the next one was the Court of the Women, and then the Court of the Men. Each court was elevated slightly higher. On the top platform, visible from the north, south, and west sides, was the altar of burnt offering and the temple proper. I could only bow my head knowing I was in the immediate presence of Hashem.

Herod’s palace pavements were made of marble, and all the rooms and chambers were adorned with the finest Roman and Greek designs—bronze statues, parks with beautiful arrangements of trees, shrubberies, flowers, and fruit-bearing trees. I was told there was nothing in Jerusalem to compare with its beauty and splendor. Notwithstanding the many times since my childhood I have returned to Jerusalem, I always recall my first impression. This memory kept me sane when life in that city became at times extremely unbearable, with unimaginable forms of torture of our believers.

The Roman rulers placed over Judea were never good men, but some were beasts of the most vicious sort. The cruelest was Pontius Pilate. I vividly recall his ordering the crucifixion of Jesus as well as allowing the stoning of Stephen in the year 36. Following those gruesome criminal attacks upon the innocents was King Agrippa I in commanding that James, the Son of Thunder, be beheaded.

I never learned the true meaning for sending my kinfolk, Joseph of Arimathea, with the Bethany family and our friends into exile in the year of 47. As everyone knew, the Bethany family—Martha, Mary, and Lazarus—was among the closest friends of Jesus. They were very wealthy because of their parents’ inheritance. Theophilus, their father, was a Syrian prince and governor of a maritime country, and Eucharis, their mother, was a descendant from the royal house of Israel. They were known for their fine character and intelligence as well as for their knowledge of the Hebrew language.

Though not knowing why Joseph of Arimathea was exiled, I can tell you this. He was a man of refinement, culture, and education, and with great business acumen. The Romans appointed him to a high position as minister of the mines. Yes, that was his profession; but he was a good, law-abiding member of the Sanhedrin, a legislative body of the provincial Roman Senate, and a confidant of Pontius Pilate. After they crucified our Lord, he asked Pilate for our Messiah’s body. He obtained this and later laid him in a sepulcher hewn in stone, wherein no man was laid before. He was well loved by our family, and I was extremely distressed when he had to leave Jerusalem. I believe because of his many positions, they exiled him instead of committing him to prison, or worse, to death.

In the autumn of 61, my brother, James, was stoned then clubbed to death. Satan himself appeared in the debauched ruler named Nero, and through him, many were put to death. In the year 68, after James’ death, there came a revolt that caused the Romans to lay siege to Jerusalem after an unbelievable massacre.

How can I describe to you, my young Gentile friends, the religious and political entities that dominated our lives? The Sadducees were the promoters of traditional rituals of Moses’ laws. They believed that under their leadership, we will be restored to our previous state and rule ourselves. A noble effort, and I salute them, as I abhor Roman rule. The Sadducees attracted the wealthy and the aristocrats among us. It had even been rumored that they bought their power from the Romans. Be that as it may, I do not know. However, with all their religious rites, they rejected Jesus’ teachings.

The Pharisees were a close group of teachers and preachers who wished to preserve the Torah at all cost. They were often referred to as teachers of the law. They were against the teaching of the Sadducees, and most of the people were their friends. However, they too disbelieved that Jesus was the Messiah and that all prophecies was fulfilled through him.

What can I tell you about the Essenes? They were a very mysterious group of men, and celibacy was encouraged. They wore white garments. I understand it was through them the sacrament of baptism, the eucharistic meal, the role of the devil, role of the angels in heaven, end of time, and the origin and nature of evil was established. Since I am not a member of that group, I naturally do not know all their thinking. It suffices me to say that in many of their beliefs, they were in error. Again, Jesus had come and is now in heaven with all things having been accomplished.

While I earned my living as a scribe, I was not a member of the Scribes as they are professionals—more like judges and lawyers. I only assisted people by writing their letters and such matters.

Often I have been asked to discuss what I knew about the house in which Jesus held his last Feast of the Passover with his apostles before going to the cross. The house was in the center of the city of Jerusalem, on Mount Zion. It was the home of John Mark’s family. It was where we waited for the Holy Spirit. It was at the beginning the gathering place for our church, which we named the Nazarene church. It was also where Peter fled when he was released from prison by an angel.

Now, I am in the same prison, and my escape will be when arrows pierce my tired body.

3

But for me and my house we will serve the Lord.

—Joshua 24:15

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AD 14

IN THE YEAR of 14 during my childhood, I took no pleasure in plying my father’s trade; I preferred playing my flute, reading, and writing. I was blessed that I could to an extent pursue my preferences. While I was taught by our rabbi, as were all the boys, I especially treasured the help Jesus provided to improve my reading and writing. Why? It was an opportunity for me to be alone with him. It never seemed to matter how difficult the day’s task had been, he always had time to help me. I did not associate anything unusual about it. I guess I was thickheaded in some ways and perhaps a little selfish in others. Nevertheless, I bumbled along until I reached my ninth birthday.

I was six the first time Abba denied me the pleasure of being in his and Jesus’ presence. Often, when seeing them working together I would ask, Abba, may I also help? He would reply, No, my son, you are not old enough, or The log is much too heavy for you, or We must hurry, or I will teach you when you are older. Regardless of his answer, his parting words were always Leave us, return to your place, and help your brother Simon.

While I cared little for carpentry, Simon was the opposite. However, as you know, he too followed Jesus’ command to preach the good news, but using his carpentry skill was how he supported his family. And, I might add, he is still an outstanding carpenter.

I could not understand why I should be scraping bark off dead olive trees when I could be listening to Jesus. He would always tell wonderful stories, and my imagination would soar. The more he talked and the more lessons he gave me, the more determined my certainty in becoming a scribe.

The first time I asked Jesus about his bar mitzvah, I was nine. I wanted to study the same passage. His eyes sparkled while placing a forefinger on my forehead. The passage will be given to you at the proper time. Do not concern yourself about what you will read, rather place all your attention on your reading and writing. These are the particular tasks before you. Well, I was a little put off, but my devotion to him overshadowed any criticism I might have felt or suffered. No, suffered is not the acceptable word