The Thirteenth Disciple: Memoirs of a Rooster

I was born on a cold summer night. The stars shone very brightly that night, and the air seemed full of promise. To me, this was how the world was. I did not realize that this was a special night, or that my life as a young rooster would not be a normal one. As I took my first steps across the dusty yard a brilliant flash of light filled the sky. My siblings and I let out peeps of indignation, but did not question the event. My mother, however, a nervous and rather particular hen, seemed aware that something was different this night. We followed her quickly to the cave that stabled the larger animals in the evening. There was a great stirring there, too, for all the animals seemed, like my mother, apprehensive. As all of us milled around in the rocky shelter, we chicks became more alert, as well. Then it happened. The quiet event was hardly the momentous occasion we all expected, but somehow, when it occurred we all knew. A young couple came into the stable. Their exhaustion was evident, and as soon as the woman walked in, she fell into the hay heavily. Everyone could see she was full with child. Even my brothers and sisters and I, although only an hour old, knew what was happening. The man knelt beside her, his face desperate. He held her small hand in his dark rough one, but his eyes betrayed his anxiety. Luckily, the shepherds were huddled into the stable watching the events. One of them called Abram dropped to his knees. He spoke to her softly, and she seemed to become calm. Some of the sheep whispered to each other,"Lucky Abram was here. He's the best at birthing I've seen in my days." said one. Her friend replied, "More than luck, I'd say. The angels told the shepherds to come here. Yahweh's hand is in this." I did not know then what they were talking about, but Abram, it seemed, was, indeed, very skilled at bringing young ones into the world. In the wee hours of that morning, we heard the thin wail of the baby. The sheep nearest the birth passed the word back-- it was a boy. That is how the boy came into the world- the boy with whom my destiny was somehow intertwined. Strange things always seemed to happen around this child. One night several travelers, so odd and beautiful, came to the inn carrying bundles in their arms. My siblings and I chased the long trains of their robes on the ground. It was a game, trying to peck at their robes, but the men moved too fast for our little feet. The men knelt before the baby, another unusual thing, and gave him gifts. One gift was gold, which was very lovely from the shiny bit I could glimpse, the other two were puzzling. Frankincense and myrrh were herbs used to bury people, my mother said. Why would they bring these two gifts to a newborn baby? No one could answer that question, and some of the animals even thought these exotic men meant to harm the boy themselves, maybe in some pagan ritual. I was not afraid for long, because as I watched the baby and his parents I saw his mother looking very thoughtful, not at all frightened, and I knew everything would be all right.His family left there very soon, as if being chased. Before they left, the old innkeeper, perhaps sorry he hadn't given them a nice room in the inn itself, gave them the gift of a few of my brothers and sisters and me. We traveled a very long way and the road was dusty, but eventually we arrived. The land was strange. When we were put onto the ground, my siblings and I discovered the ground was softer here, and the bugs tasted very strange. However, we were full and content to scratch this strange soil. We stayed there many days, during which the baby grew and so did I. I was now a young rooster, and so very proud of myself. The baby, now a toddler, liked to chase me around the yard, which I pretended to abhor, but really thought was quite fun. Little did I know that later on I would be following him around. One day, we very suddenly left the strange land, which, by this time I called my home. We traveled back to more familiar land. The people ate my sister on the way. This might have shocked me, but somehow it did not. I was sad at her death, but knew that all life must end. This was the way of the world. We ended up in Nazareth, where we stayed several years. The boy grew taller, and I grew fatter. I often feared the people would eat me, but somehow they never did. One day, when the boy was twelve years old, his father said to him, "Son, now you are a man. When we go to Passover this year, you will participate as a man." I was not terribly confused by this. We had gone to Passover every year since I could remember. In the first few years the woman, Mary, tried to make me stay at their Nazareth home by chasing me back with a large stick. I was unafraid of her, and I wanted to go to Jerusalem. After a few years without success, Mary resigned herself to my company. This year the journey to Jerusalem seemed especially important. Something in the air said this time was special. The caravan arrived in the Holy City, and it, too, seemed to bustle with great excitement. Mary and Joseph, her husband, took the boy and went straight to the temple. Many people were already there, and it was very crowded. Mary, whose job it had always been to keep track of the coin they needed to buy their small sacrifice reached into the folds of her dress. A look of panic came over her. She searched again and again. She asked Joseph. She asked her son. She looked through the basket she carried. She could not find it. Mary began to weep, and Joseph and the boy tried to comfort her. Mary saw me standing there, and had an idea, albeit a ridiculous one, "Why don't we sacrifice that pesky c**k? Then at least he would have a purpose other than being a nuisance."I was slightly offended by this remark, but blamed Mary's cruelty on her present state of worry. Joseph looked at Mary like she might be a little slow in her head, and said, "No, I don't think that would be appropriate." I did not think it would be appropriate either, and I was hungry, so I busied myself scratching the ground for insects. I found a nice juicy one and was gulping it down when I saw a glimmer in the dirt. I hurried over and pulled it out of the ground where it had been trampled by hundreds of feet. It was a coin. The boy saw this and ran over to me. He took the coin from my mouth and ran to his mother, "Look, mother! Look what the rooster has found! He's not so useless after all, is he mother?" She looked at me, and then at the coin, and said, "No." Then the family went to buy their sacrifice, a dove, because they were rather poor. I stayed outside, firstly, because I was not really welcome in the temple, and secondly, because I did not want to be confused with a sacrifice. I had had enough of that for one day. After several days in Jerusalem, the family was ready to leave. The boy was playing with his cousin, a rather striking boy named John. Mary and Joseph chatted with John's parents and the rest of their relatives. I was scratching the ground, as usual, and finding the area rather devoid of bugs. All morning I searched, following Mary and Joseph's voices, so I wouldn't be left behind. I found a few here and there, but became rather weary of endless searching. Suddenly, Mary cried out, "Where is Jesus?" I quickly looked up. The boy was missing? Was he not with John or one of the others? No, he was not with John. He had not been with John since Jerusalem. Mary looked horrified. Could it be bandits? No, Joseph said, there weren't any bandits silly enough to attack a great caravan like this one. Joseph, always the calm one, also seemed very worried. They determined that they must retrace their steps until they found a trace of him. Naturally, I followed them. We searched for Jesus all the way back to the great city, and finally, the people went to the temple. There was Jesus. He was talking to a rabbi with a great grey beard. The other teachers were looking on with looks of mingled shock and joy. Mary ran up, and one of them spoke to her,"Is this your son? He is very wise, as you must well know. He knows the scriptures like one of us!" Mary stopped in her tracks, not knowing how to respond to this. Jesus looked up then and saw his parents. He noticed the angst in their expressions, and stood up. He put his hand out to his mother, beckoning her closer. "Mother," he said, "Mother, why are you so worried? Did you not know where I would be? Father told me to participate as an adult this year. Of course I am here, doing my Father's business." Then he hugged her close and stroked her worried face. It took me a few moments to register that Jesus was talking about God, the great Father, and not Joseph. All of us made the journey back to Nazareth in relative quiet. When we arrived, I knew something had changed. Jesus was not a boy anymore. He was a man. In the following years, Jesus grew in wisdom and strength and more and more people grew to admire him. I also grew older, my feathers were patchier on my body, but I still followed Jesus around like I had when I was young. One day, when Jesus was almost thirty years old, he went walking. I followed him to the Jordan River. I had been there before, of course, but I wondered why Jesus was going there today, when his father might have needed his help in the fields or in his carpenter shop. Then I saw John. He was dunking people under the muddy water. I recognized him, because his face was very distinct and sharp. However, he was not quite the same John who traveled to Passover with us in years before. His hair was long, as was Jesus', but John's was wild and his beard was unruly, too. Even his clothes were strange. He looked like a beast, half crazed and wild. Was Jesus coming here to bring John back to Nazareth so he could be taken care of--tamed, maybe? John looked up and saw Jesus. His eyes grew bright, "Prepare the way of the Lord, make the path straight for Him. One is coming who will not baptize with water like I do, but with the Holy Spirit and with fire."Jesus walked down to the water and stepped in. He stood next to John expectantly. John was confused, "No, you should baptize me. Please, I am not worthy." Jesus said, "Yes, John. This needs to be done. It is a fulfillment." So John, the wild man, who ate locusts and honey for every meal, baptized Jesus. As soon as Jesus' head came out of the water there came an odd white light from the sky. It seemed to fly down from Heaven, looking amazingly like the dove Mary, Joseph, and Jesus had sacrificed at Passover. As it flew down toward Jesus a large voice rang out. It sounded like the wind blowing fast and strong over the Sea of Galilee, "This is my son. I am very pleased with Him." Then the voice was gone, and the glowing dove, too, as quickly as they came. I rather expected Jesus to go home then, maybe even take John with him. Instead Jesus went another way. He walked a long while until we came into the desert. Jesus had with him only some bread and a little water. He stayed there many days. I was perfectly happy, for I found many insects, including some locusts to feed on. Jesus took some small walks by himself. I did not feel the need to follow Him, as He never went too far. I did think he might be getting too much sun, though, because He would talk as if someone was there, someone I couldn't see. Once, I looked up from my scratching to find Him gone. He just vanished. A moment later, he appeared, standing as if He had been there all the time. Maybe it was me who was getting too much sun. Jesus came out of the desert finally. I was quite ready by now. Jesus seemed a little changed. Maybe because he was a little hungry after fasting for those many days. Still, Jesus did not go home. Jesus went to a hill, and began talking to some men. One after another he spoke to someone, and that man would pick up his belongings and follow Jesus. There grew to be a small crowd around Jesus. I counted twelve men. Most of them were nice people. I liked John quite a lot. Jesus did, too, of course. He was very young, maybe fifteen, but he had so much life. He was friendly to everyone, asking lots of questions. He even fed me some grain from time to time, which I greatly appreciated. Matthew had been a tax collector, but he wasn't at all deceitful or sneaky like I expected him to be. He spoke softly to everyone, and was very thoughtful. One man, however, stood out to me. Judas Iscariot was an odd man. He was usually quiet, and his face never betrayed his thoughts. I wondered why Jesus had chosen him. Most of the chosen ones were special or useful in some way. There were fisherman, a tax collector, and even a zealot. Judas was just a man, who seemed to have no particular talent. I guessed Jesus knew more than I did, so I pushed my doubts away. Jesus and his followers journeyed all over the world, it seemed to me. They went to a wedding, where Jesus turned water into wine. They went on a mountaintop, where Jesus fed thousands of people with only a few loaves of coarse bread and some fish. All the while I was not surprised that Jesus could do these things. I always knew he was special. Jesus often just sat with His followers talking to them and teaching them things about Himself and about the world. Wherever Jesus went, many people followed him, listening to His words. I sometimes thought he would go back to Nazareth. Surely that was a perfect place for Him, where people already knew and loved Him. However, one day he did go back. He claimed to be the Messiah, which I knew to be one who would save them. The people of Nazareth scoffed at this, "We've known you your whole life." they said. "How dare you come back here and try to be someone special!" They brought out Jesus' siblings, even the little girl, and said, "Can you say these things to their faces? Go on, tell your own family you are better than them!" Jesus looked very sad. Yet He told the crowd again what He had been telling them since He had arrived. They refused to listen to Him anymore, so He left, followed by the twelve men and me. It was around this time that Jesus heard the news of the death of his cousin, John. John, the great animal of a teacher, was beheaded. Jesus was very sad at this. He told the men he needed to rest, and they all understood. John said he wished he would have been there, he would have stopped them from hurting Jesus' favorite cousin. Matthew sat quietly, looking contemplative. Judas Iscariot stood apart from the rest looking back toward the town they had just been in. I too, stood quietly. Even the anthill nearby did not offer a distraction. One thing I grew to understand about Jesus was that He often called out the undesirables. Even the calling of his disciple Matthew was an enigma to many people, because he was a tax collector. He liked talking to tax collectors. He also spoke to a Samaritan adulteress. He even touched lepers and remained clean, Himself. I decided Jesus, like me, must prefer honest faith to great shows of righteousness. Jesus spent the following year talking to His men. He seemed almost urgent in His need to tell them things. Many of the things he said did not make sense to me. Apparently I was not alone in this. I often heard the men talking amongst themselves, wondering what Jesus could mean by some of the odd things He said. Jesus was quieter these days. His travels had taken him great distances. He had healed many people, and taught them important things. I didn't understand why He seemed sad, and neither did His followers. Soon, it was time for Passover, and Jesus and all the men entered the city of Jerusalem. The people there recognized him, and Jesus, riding on a little dull donkey, was greeted as a hero. On the day of the meal, all the men went inside to eat, and I remained outside. I managed to perch on a low branch of a tree just outside the window of the house. I watched as they began to eat. Soon Jesus spoke, "One of you will betray me."The shock of these words nearly knocked me off my branch. The men were equally surprised. "Surely not." said Andrew. "I couldn't do that, and I'll hurt anyone who does!" exclaimed John. But Judas, with an odd look of recognition looked at Jesus and asked, "Not me, teacher?" Jesus answered sadly, "Yes, it is you." Then Judas left. They finished the meal quietly, with Jesus saying very cryptic things about the bread and the wine. After they had finished, Jesus said he wanted to go to the Mount of Olives. When they arrived there he told the men, "Tonight you will all leave me, because of something that will happen to me. I will go on alone." Peter, one who always wanted Jesus to notice His loyalty replied, "Maybe the others will, Lord, but definitely not me." Jesus looked down and saw me scratching at His feet and said, "Peter, tonight, before this rooster crows, you will deny me three times. "NO!" Peter shouted. "Never will I do this!" Everyone agreed with Peter. Jesus turned and began to walk. He stopped when he reached the Garden of Gethsemane. There, he turned and said to the men, "Stay here, my brothers, while I go in and pray." He asked Peter, John, and his brother, James to go in with Him. "I am very sad." he said when they had walked awhile. "Keep watch here for me, while I pray." He walked away then, with a droop to His shoulders. I followed Him, and watched as He knelt and prayed, "Father! Let this cup pass from me. Yet, I know it is not as I will, but as You will." I did not understand at all what Jesus was trying to say, but I sensed He was very much disturbed about something. Jesus stood and walked back to where He had left the three men. He found them sleeping, which displeased Him, "Brothers! Why are you sleeping? I have left you only a short time! Stay here, and pray." I decided I should stay with the men this time. Someone had to keep watch. I saw Peter's eyes droop, and James' chin fall to his chest. Even John, always alert, seemed to be fading. I flapped my wings at them, and squawked at them loudly. Even so, the three soon fell asleep. Jesus returned after a few minutes and looked down at them. He looked at me and sighed, "Again, they sleep."Then he turned and went back to pray again. I knew the three men would not wake up. They were suddenly exhausted, so it was imperative for me to stay and keep watch. It was fortunate that I did, for as I watched down the path I saw something wicked coming. Three Romans came, led by a familiar man. Judas! I heard footsteps behind me. I turned and squawked at Jesus, a warning. He looked, too, and saw the evil men coming. "Wake up, brothers. It is time to go. Here comes my betrayer!" The three scrambled up, just as Judas came and kissed Jesus on the cheek. This was a sign to the Romans to take Jesus. Peter, still groggy from his untimely nap thought to act in Jesus' defense, and drew his sword. With great swiftness he cut off the ear of one of the Romans, but Jesus was not pleased with Peter's attempt. He did not fight them. Jesus allowed Himself to be taken. Jesus had been correct about the men. Once Peter, James, and John told the others what had happened they scattered. They ran away like a pack of stray dogs. I was rather ashamed of them. I followed Jesus the best I could, and found myself in a great courtyard outside a building. I knew He was there, but I couldn't get to him. I stood on the courtyard wall listening for news of Him. Suddenly I noticed another familiar man. It was Peter. He walked in and stood by the wall. He tried to appear nonchalant, but I knew by his shaking that he was nervous. A servant girl walked by carrying a water jug, and saw him, "Aren't you one of the ones who was with that man? The man Jesus?" Peter stood straight with a start, "N-n-no." he stammered. Then, gathering his courage he said again, "No. I don't even know what you're talking about." Then Peter, who was increasingly nervous, moved away a little. Then another girl who was sweeping the entryway looked up from her work, "Oh, I've seen you! You were with that man, Jesus!" Peter frowned at her, and cried out angrily, "NO, I don't even know him!" Some others were standing around working or gossiping, and they heard this exchange. One of the men said, "Yes, you were with him. I've seen you with him, and besides, you have the same accent as he does." Peter was very angry now, and was quite red in the face. I knew what was coming. When had Jesus ever been wrong? I mentally willed Peter to be quiet, but I knew it was no use. Sure enough he exclaimed, "NO! Curses on all of you! I never knew that man!"As Jesus had told me, I let out a loud mournful crow. Peter looked up at me still standing on the wall, and tears filled his eyes. He ran out of the courtyard, and the sound of his bitter sobs left everyone in the yard in stunned silence. I waited in the courtyard until they brought Jesus out. He looked very weary, but then He had been awake for a very long time. I followed until they brought Him to another building. Again, I could not go in, so I stood outside on the ground. All the sudden a shadow fell over me. I turned around and saw Judas Iscariot standing there. He was looking in where they had taken Jesus. He motioned to some officials and whispered, "Here, take your money back! I have sinned. I have delivered to you an innocent man." The officials refused to take it, and sent him away. Judas grew horribly flustered. He looked around anxiously, and then all at once he ran off down the road out of the city. Somehow I knew I would never see him again. I caught up with Jesus on His way to Golgotha. I could hardly recognize Him. He was scarcely human anymore. They had beaten Him literally within inches of His life. On His head He wore a bunch of thorns twisted into a crown. These caused His head to bleed and the blood ran into His eyes, mingling with sweat and tears. He carried on His torn back a rough cross made of wood. It rubbed painfully on His back. As He walked He left a trail of blood. All at once He stumbled, dropping the cross hard onto the ground. I was able to move out of its way, but for a moment dust clouded my vision. When the dust settled back onto the earth I saw another man carrying the cross. Jesus walked behind the man, his blood still dripping onto the ground. I marveled just then how odd it was that only a few days before Jesus had entered Jerusalem like a hero, and now they condemned Him like a criminal. They came to that cursed hill and threw down the cross. They forced Jesus to lay on the cross, which in his current state was not difficult. I turned my body away as they nailed his hands and feet to that horrible cross. The next thing I knew He was in the air. I saw how He suffered there, and could not watch it long. Looking around at the foot of the cross, I began to recognize familiar faces. There was John. There was Mary, Jesus' mother, weeping freely. Her agony was evident, and no one even tried to comfort her. Everyone stood silently watching the horrific scene. Then Jesus looked down at them and said, "John, here is your mother. Mother, here is your son." Mary and John looked at each other and then at Jesus. They understood. John would take care of Mary like Jesus would have. "My God, my Father, why have you forsaken me?" Jesus cried, and then more quietly, "Father, into Your hands I give my Spirit." Then Jesus, the boy born in my quiet home so many years ago, the one who could heal the terminally ill, the man who loved the unlovable, died. The sky became totally dark, the earth shook, and everyone around was very frightened. His body remained on the cross only until it was evening, and then a rich man came and took His body to a tomb. Of course, I followed. Even after His death I felt my destiny belonged to this man. We came to the cave, which I thought was very like the cave in which He was born. The rich man laid Jesus in the tomb, wrapped him in clean white cloths, and then rolled a great stone in front of the tomb. I did not know what to do. I confess I sat down on the cold ground and stayed there for a long long time. I must have slept, eventually, because when I awoke Peter was standing in front of the tomb. The stone was rolled aside, and Jesus was not in it. What had happened? Peter seemed much amazed, too, "Where is He? He is not here. He has risen like the women said!" Then Peter ran away faster than I had ever seen a man run. I tried to follow him, but my old feet and wings had finally given up. I went as fast as I could, but I could not find Peter or any of the other men. Night fell, and I knew I must rest, for I could not walk anymore, nor could I see anything. Besides that I was hungry. I scratched at the earth awhile, and ate a few insects, and then I curled my wings under me and slept. I was woken abruptly by the sounds of many feet and voices running past me. In my weariness the night before I had gone rather off course. I was nearly to Bethany. The people rushing by me were all stirred up about something going on there, so I decided to see what it was. Then I saw Him. He was alive! He was standing on a hill, and the people were gathering around Him. He was blessing them all. The disciples were overjoyed and His mother wept tears of happiness. I managed to squeeze through the crowd until I stood near His scarred feet. Then he looked down at me, and, so softly that only I could hear He said, " In [God's] hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind." With that final recitation of Scripture He lifted His hands to the sky and Jesus began to rise off the ground. The clouds seemed to open up to welcome Him. Then Jesus, the one I could say without a doubt was God, Himself, was gone. Never in my life have I felt more at peace. I knew then that my destiny had been fulfilled, and, like the rest of the creatures on God's earth, I could now die. It is the way of the world.