Mark's Story Read Online Free PDF Page A

moisture cascading from His beard and onto His hands. Suddenly He rose and rushed back to the three. His tone had changed from sadness to anger.
    “Are you still sleeping? It is enough! The hour has come; behold, the Son of Man is being betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us be going. See, My betrayer is at hand.”
    And there stood Judas Iscariot, trailed by a great multitude with swords and clubs! He approached Jesus with arms outstretched saying, “Rabbi, Rabbi!” and kissed Him.
    “Friend,” Jesus said with great sorrow, “why have you come? You would betray the Son of Man with a kiss?”
    In the flickering light of many torches, Mark could see fear in Judas’s eyes as he backed away. Jesus stepped forward to the crowd. “Whom are you seeking?” He said.
    “Jesus of Nazareth.”
    “I am He.”
    With His admission, the first line of the throng fell backward onto the ground. Then He said again, “Whom are you seeking?”
    They warily staggered to their feet and one said, “Jesus of Nazareth.”
    “I have told you that I am He. Therefore, if you seek Me, let these go their way.”
    Surely, Mark thought, Jesus’ friends would not desert Him, not leave Him to this mob of soldiers and religious leaders! He thrilled to see his hero, Peter, draw his sword, lunge forward, and flail at a servant who stood next to a high priest. The blade sliced off the man’s ear, and he dropped to his knees, screaming.
    “Malchus!” the priest cried out, and others moved to aid him.
    Jesus said, “Peter, put your sword into the sheath. Shall I not drink the cup which My Father has given Me?” He put His hands on the injured man’s head, and immediately his ear was restored.
    Malchus stood, staring at his bloody hand. Mark was astonished. This must be a dream!
    Jesus spoke to the mob. “Have you come out, as against a robber, with swords and clubs to take Me? I was daily with you in the temple teaching, and you did not seize Me. But the Scriptures must be fulfilled.”
    The detachment of troops and the captain and the officers of the Jews arrested Jesus and bound Him. Mark watched intently to see what Peter would do, and his mouth fell open when the fisherman backed away and fled with James and John. The three raced to their compatriots, and all the disciples ran off into the darkness. Surely Peter would plot with them and return to again defend his Master.
    Jesus was left utterly devoid of friends, His only acquaintance the one who had betrayed Him with a kiss. Mark’s heart seemed to burst for this Man of whom Peter had spoken so highly. How could Peter defend Him with the sword one minute and run in the next?
    Mark didn’t know what had gotten into him, but as the throng surrounded Jesus and led Him back toward the city, he moved out of hiding and followed them, his thin linen garment his only shield against the night. What he hoped to accomplish he had no idea, but it certainly seemed wrong to abandon one’s friend.
    Somehow Mark had missed that a few soldiers had been dispatched to track the disciples, and having failed, now returned. “You there!” one said, as they closed on him. Mark, young and fast, panicked and ran, knowing he could elude them if only he could avoid their grasp.
    One grabbed the edge of his garment just as Mark was gaining speed, and the man’s yank turned the boy in a circle. Another clutched his tunic at the neck. Mark imagined himself dragged before the magistrates, and while he was not one of Jesus’ disciples, nor could he fathom any fault being brought against him, he would then have to face his own mother. How would he explain where he had been and what he had been doing?
    He thrashed and spun and kept running, his garment ripped entirely from his body. And as he leapt the stone wall naked, he heard the soldiers laugh and one say, “Let him go! He’s just a child!”
    Mark stayed in the shadows, trembling and frantic that no one see him. He had never been naked outside his