by Jo Doyle                                                       Ireland                                             07.04.2024

I walked with Jesus.
A follower, a friend.
I knew he was different and that he was going to take us to victory over the Roman soldiers.
So I walked with him.
I loved that moment in time because I loved him and felt that he loved me.
That brought me joy.
Looking back I realized that I had no idea what he was talking about.
The Kingdom!
His father and him were one?
Ludicrous stuff.
But none of that mattered to me, his company was infectious. I felt happy and I had spent much of my life joyless.
There seemed to be a purpose when I was with him.
He enjoyed life, enjoyed his family, friends, and I would describe him as a man who included everyone.
I never thought that by him doing that, that everyone would turn on him.
It became dangerous because he kept including people and then he started healing them!
It was amazing, awesome, but problematic.
Rules, so many rules were broken, and he was being noticed, telling men to pick up their mats on the Sabbath.
Not allowed!
Healing the blind! Cleansing demons!
Who did he think he was? And then of course he told them.
Blasphemy!
I became frightened, cautious, but I never believed that I could turn my back on him so easily.
We all did.
The mob went mad and so did we.
I hid in the alleyways that day. Cowardly I was.
Oh my shame at watching him pass with the blood and mess, I hid, I was frightened of death, and I left my friend.
For days after he died, none of us could look at each other, there was no word for the shame we felt.
A few of us went back to fishing, there was nothing else to do.
Then Peter saw him.
I thought I must have fallen asleep and was dreaming, but it was him.
My head was splitting, lost to confusion and disbelief. I stood on the banks of the lake until he turned and looked back, and I cried. I was ashamed that he held no hostility to my cowardice.
That first evening was so painful. He held no malice.
But later in the dead of night I heard him sob on Peters shoulder saying,
‘How could he? How could Judas believe that I didn’t love him?’
That next morning I arose. I knew what I was to do now.
So, on that day my journey began.

Jo Wardhaugh Doyle is farming in Kildare with her husband Matt. She has worked in Uganda, Ethiopia and Kenya, but more recently has worked with Sr Rita Kelly MMM doing the REAP programme in the Irish Missionary Union (IMU).