My watchmen were sleeping, nearly lying atop one another on a dirt patch beneath the trees. They were bathed in moonlight and if it wasn’t for my fear, I would have thought them a beautiful sight there together. Along the hilltop the torchlight emerged and I realized soon my slumbering friends would be scattered – running for their lives through the shadows of this garden. I shook them awake and they stood quickly to protect me against the coming danger they couldn’t yet comprehend. We saw the torches descend the hill and our eyes fell on the betrayer, a man who traveled with us, our treasurer, who’d shared a table and wine with us only a few hours before. Here he was leading a small band of soldiers to take me away. This was our final moment together – the group I’d chosen to help me change the world. We walked the countryside for three years and they were with me from the beginning. I chose the first of them while walking the shore line one day. They were very much a part of their element, sitting in boats and mending fishing nets. They came to me at my first call despite any doubts they might’ve had, and they stayed with me as the miracles happened. Wounds were healed, men who were paralyzed walked, the blind were made to see, a little girl and later, a man, were raised from the dead. And they saw maybe the most difficult sight to believe: the hearts of the most far-gone men and women changing before their very eyes. They stayed with me while others claimed my abilities came from the devil himself. I spoke to them with stories that had deeper meanings they didn’t understand. I asked much of them, and they gave it to me with all their humanity. Now, they stood by me, waiting, until the betrayer finally drew close. He smiled, then leaned in and kissed me in the half light. This was the falsest display of affection my followers would ever see. In just a few day’s time, on the cross and then rising from a tomb, they would be witness to the most beautiful.