Could it get any worse?

We arrived, all 12 of us buzzing. We’d seen crowds applaud Jesus as he rode on a donkey, and we were so glad he was finally getting the praise and adoration he deserved. We thought revolution might be on the way, and each of us was eager to find out what Jesus was planning to do next.

No sooner had we got to the dining room than an argument broke out. Jesus, our host, sat at one end of a long table, and each of us wanted to be by him. We jostled and argued, and some unkind things were said.

Jesus was in an odd mood. He washed our feet, and I felt such a strong draw to him as he gazed up at me from his kneeling position that I believed I would have done anything for him. But when Peter made the same claim out loud, Jesus seemed to push back and asked him three times about it.

Then Jesus did some weird but profound stuff with the bread and wine. It seemed as if all the cares of the world were on him. Then, to top it all off, Judas, who’d been in a foul mood since the moment he’d arrived, stormed off. What had got into him?

We all ate and drank too much, which didn’t help the atmosphere. Jesus was just acting so odd. He suggested we go for a walk, perhaps to clear our heads.

We reached an olive grove, and Jesus asked us to watch and pray, but I was just so sleepy after all that good food and wine. Usually, I would chat with the others to keep myself awake, but some of their earlier words had stung; it seemed easier to close my eyes and pretend they weren’t there.

I was awoken by shouts; there was that snake Judas with a troop of soldiers. He greeted Jesus with a kiss, and that seemed to be the signal for Jesus to be grabbed and dragged away by the armed mob. I grabbed a sword from the nearest soldier and lunged at him. But Jesus told me off.

I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but right now I never want to see these men I’ve been traipsing around with for the last three years again. I’m sick of all the arguing, and to me, it seems like Jesus has absolutely no plan.

I’m heading to my own home.

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By the following evening, Jesus was dead, killed by crucifixion. But, he rose again.

The group of men and women Jesus had gathered around him prior to his death went on to establish the church, which continues to this day.

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This story is inspired by events recorded in the books of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John in the Bible. I don’t think all the disciples, Jesus’ followers, would have felt this way, but perhaps one or two may have.

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