The Brotherhood Of The Holy Shroud by Julia Navarro Read Free Book Online

Josar pushed him away and began to run blindly, unsure where to go. At last, in the courtyard before the temple, he came upon a man he had seen from time to time listening to Jesus preach.
    "Where is he?" Josar asked, his voice faint.
    "The Nazarene? He is to be crucified. Pilate will do as the priests have asked."
    "But what is he accused of?"
    "Of blasphemy, they say, for he has called himself the Messiah."
    "But Jesus has never blasphemed, has never spoken of himself as the Messiah. He is the best of men."
    "Take care, my friend, for you are one of those who have followed him, and someone might still denounce you."
    "You followed him as well."
    "Indeed, and that is why I give you this counsel. No man or woman who has followed the Nazarene is safe."
    "Tell me, at least, where I may find him, where he has been taken."
    "They have him. You cannot reach him. He is to die on Friday, before the sun has set."
    On the face of Jesus was the agony of torture. Upon his head they had placed a crown of thorns, and it cut into his flesh. Blood flowed down his face, and his beard was wet with it.
    Josar had counted each lash as the Roman soldiers scourged Jesus. One hundred twenty.
    Now, as he bore on his torn back the heavy wooden cross on which he was to be crucified, its weight drove him to his knees on the stones of the road, as it had over and over again along that endless way.
    Josar took a step forward to support him, to catch him, but a soldier shoved him back. Jesus looked at him in silent gratitude.
    He followed Jesus to the top of the hill where he was to be crucified with two thieves. Tears blinded Josar's eyes when he saw a soldier lay Jesus on the cross and take his right hand by the wrist and nail him to the wood. Then he did the same with the left hand, but the nail did not penetrate the wrist at first, as it had the right. The soldier tried twice more before the nail found the wood.
    He nailed the two feet together, with a single nail, left foot crossed over the right.
    Time seemed eternal, and Josar prayed to God that Jesus might die soon. He watched him suffer, struggling for breath.
    John, the most beloved of the disciples, wept in silence at his master's torment. Nor could Josar contain his tears.
    As the spring day gave way to evening, and black storm clouds filled the sky, a soldier stepped forward. He thrust his spear into Jesus' side, and from the wound came forth blood and water.
    Jesus had died, and Josar gave thanks to God for that.
    By the time Jesus' body was taken down from the cross, there was little time to prepare it as the Jewish laws required. Josar knew that all labors, even the clothing of a body in the death shroud, must be halted at sunset.
    And because they were in the time of Passover, the body had to be buried that same day.
    Josar, his eyes blurred by tears, watched motion-lessly as the body was prepared and Joseph of Arimathea lay Jesus' body upon the fine linen grave cloth.
    Josar did not sleep that night, nor did he find rest the day following. The pain in his heart was terrible indeed.
    On the third day after the crucifixion of Jesus, Josar made his way to the place where the body had been laid. There he found Mary, the mother of Jesus, and John, and other followers of Jesus, and all were exclaiming that the master's body had disappeared. In the tomb, upon the stone where the body had been laid, was the shroud that Joseph of Arimathea had laid it in, though none of those present dared touch it. Jewish law forbade contact with unclean objects, and a dead man's shroud was unclean.
    Josar took it in his hands. He was not a Jew, nor was he bound by the Jews' laws. He held the cloth tight against his breast, and he felt himself filled with peace. He felt the master; embracing that simple piece of cloth was like embracing Jesus himself. At that moment he realized what he was to do. He would return to Edessa and present the shroud of Jesus to his king, Abgar, and the shroud would cure him. Now he