Mark's Story Read Online Free PDF

own home, and with all the tourists and pilgrims milling about the city gates, he had no idea where to go. Cowering in a shallow ditch not a hundred yards from the eastern gate, he watched as the procession of soldiers and Jewish leaders led Jesus toward the city. He squinted in the darkness at familiar forms, wondering if it was possible that Peter and John followed at a distance.
    Mark didn’t know where James or the other eight were, but he thrilled to the possibility that Peter and John had not abandoned Jesus after all. Oh, that they would defend their Teacher! He crept toward the city wall, madly searching for something, anything with which to cover himself. Just as he heard a group of laughing men and women approach, Mark came upon a pile of refuse with dogs yammering about. He pulled a huge expanse of scratchy wool from a mound of rags and quickly wrapped himself.
    Immediately the uncomfortable material at least blocked the cold wind, and while the covering was twice as large as he needed, Mark was grateful to finally be dressed. He tied the excess in a bulky knot behind him and hurried to follow the soldiers and Jesus. Sure enough, trailing at a distance crept Peter and John, keeping out of sight of those accompanying Jesus. The procession attracted the attention of many crowding the gate.
    As the soldiers and leaders arrived at the courtyard of the high priest, they were allowed in one at a time by a young woman who guarded the door. She turned away many she apparently did not recognize. Peter stayed back when she greeted John by name and held the door open for him.
    It appeared to Mark that John was at first unaware that Peter had been left outside. He returned and spoke to the girl, pointing at Peter. “He is with me.”
    As she allowed Peter in, the servant girl said, “You are not also one of this Man’s disciples, are you?”
    Mark was crestfallen when Peter said, “I am not.” It was all he could do to choke back tears as the fisherman he so admired showed such cowardice.
    Mark elbowed his way through the crowd and peered through the gate as the servants and officers built a fire of coals. How he wished he could join them and warm himself. Peter stood among them, rubbing his hands over the fire.
    The curious crowd pressed Mark up against the bars of the gate as the high priest asked Jesus about His disciples and His doctrine. Jesus said, “I spoke openly to the world. I always taught in synagogues and in the temple, where the Jews always meet. I have said nothing in secret, so why do you ask Me? Ask those who have heard Me. They know what I said.”
    One of the officers slapped Jesus hard. “Do You answer the high priest like that?”
    Jesus said, “If I have spoken evil, tell me; but if I have spoken the truth, why do you strike Me?”
    Mark’s attention was turned back to Peter when someone said, “Say, you are not also one of His disciples, are you?”
    “I am not!” he said, cursing. Mark covered his mouth as sobs invaded his throat. How could such a brave, robust, honorable man so coarsely and blatantly lie?
    A servant of the high priest leaned close and studied Peter’s face. “That was my cousin whose ear you cut off! Did I not see you in the garden with Him?”
    “I know nothing of what you speak,” Peter said, again swearing. “You are mistaken.”
    And immediately a rooster crowed.
    Mark could take no more. He dared not be out any later, for if his mother awakened to find him gone, she would be terribly vexed. Bitterly disappointed, he set off toward home, running the whole way with tears coursing down his face.
    He had heard Jesus speak of Himself as the Son of God, finger His own betrayer before the betrayal, pray to His Father, and restore a man’s destroyed ear. Surely He had to be who His disciples and Mark’s mother believed He was. How then could His friends desert Him? And what would become of Him? Mark had so admired Peter. And now he didn’t ever want to see the man