Crossroad In Time – A Novel by Keith Shafer

CHAPTER 1

Crossroad In Time

I knocked three times on the rough-hewn wooden door, paused, and then knocked twice. A couple of moments later the door opened just enough for the person on the other side to peer out. Jonathon, the owner of the large upper room behind the door, recognized me and opened the door enough to let me through.

My eyes slowly adjusted to the light given off by oil lamps placed throughout the room. The mud-covered walls of the room were bare and through the window on my left, I could see the deserted street below. Twelve men reclined at a low table in a large upper room. The fragrance of cooked meat filled my nostrils. Wine, flatbread, herbs, eggs, and a tray of meat lay before them; the traditional Passover meal, I thought. I could almost taste the lamb. A shiver ran up my spine when I realized what I was witnessing. The men were talking in hushed whispers; several conversations taking place at once. The only person to look up when I entered was the taller man at the center of the table, the leader of the group. When he looked at me his eyes seemed to see right through me, and my heart sank.

This was the night.

My first inclination was to turn and run out the door, but I couldn’t do it while he was watching me. It was almost as if he—no, he couldn’t—or could he? The tall man motioned for me to at the low table, I knew there was no way I could refuse.

As I sat down, he rose from his cushion. He removed his tunic and picked up a large cloth. Pouring water into a basin, the leader walked to the closest of the others and began to wash his feet and wipe them dry with the cloth. A loud rugged man whom I knew as Simon still reclining at the table stood up to protest; it was he who should wash the master’s feet not the other way around, Simon insisted. But the tall man was adamant. “I must do this unless I wash you, you can have no part in me,” he answered quietly.

I felt sick to my stomach as he placed the basin at my feet and began removing my sandals. How am I going to make it through this night, I thought? If I go through with what I know must be done, I’ll be condemned forever—damned for all eternity. But if I don’t go through with it, he won’t fulfill his role and the price would be a completely different world, a different future; could history be changed? I thank God he didn’t look up at me while he completed his task.

After finishing the ceremony, he picked up a piece of bread he said, “One of you that eats with me tonight will betray me.”

Another chill ran up my spine, oh God, I thought, he’s right, I’m Judas Iscariot and I’ve got to betray Jesus of Nazareth, tonight. It’s all taking place just as the gospels had said, and Jesus knew what was about to happen.

The other men in the room were confused and shocked, several asking him if it was, they who would betray Jesus. But I knew it wasn’t them. I knew the truth because what I knew about the next three days was history, my history, and the world’s history. What I knew about tonight’s events had taken place over two thousand years ago. Here I was not only living that history but playing a crucial role in it. A role I didn’t want. This was a role I couldn’t and shouldn’t be asked to play. But here I was, with Jesus and the other disciples preparing to partake in what would be the last supper. All this before I was to turn him over to the Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin so Jesus, whom I had lived with for three years, now; could be nailed to a cross.

What had started as the first long-range deep history probe had gone wrong-crazy wrong. What I thought would be a chance to study and record Christian history first-hand had landed me exactly where and when I wanted to be, at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. But that was three years ago. I had no idea that I’d leap into one of the most pivotal characters in the history of Christianity, actually in the history of the world.

The head of the project, Dr. Nicholas Staan chose this period and these events to dispel the whole concept of this man called Jesus and the rise of his religion. I had come into the project as an agnostic bordering on atheism. I had come to disprove the foundations of the Christian Church, but in the process over the past three years, with what I’d seen and done, I had come to believe; NO, I knew, Jesus was indeed the Messiah the Jews had been praying for.

“You who have dipped your hand into the dish with me will betray me,” Jesus said as I dipped my bread into that very dish. My fate was sealed.

“The Son of man goes as it is written, but pity that man who betrays the Son of man,” he said looking into my tear-filled eyes. “It would have been better for him if he had not been born.”

I don’t know why I sat there. Everything in my being yelled run! Get away! I wanted to leap back to my own time, but I couldn’t I was fixed to that spot in that room, witnessing the beginning of what Christians would call the new covenant.

Rising again, Jesus took a piece of the bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to those of us at the table.

“Take and eat, this is my body.”

I nearly choked on the bread as I tried desperately to remain calm.

He picked up a cup of wine in a simple clay goblet that would become one of the most sought-after icons of the Church—the Holy Grail. After giving thanks for the wine he said, “This is my blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many. But I tell all of you, I will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it in my Father’s kingdom.” We passed the cup around the table and we all drank. Then Jesus led us in a hymn.

He looked around the room, slowly. Looking at each man individually a sad smile on his lips and sadness in his eyes. It was the look one gives to his comrades as they are about to go out and do battle. I don’t know how many times, in the future, I’d seen that look before going out on a combat mission. He took a deep breath turned then made his way out of the room and walked up the hill toward the Garden of Gethsemane with the rest of us following close behind. As we came to the city’s gate, I worked my way toward the back of the crowd.

This was my chance to slip away; I had to think. I had to decide.

Keith Shafer-Renaissance Man

Crossroad In Time – A Novel by Keith Shafer

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