The first night passed. Jesus, without speaking, looked at the stars. Around him, the tired companions slept. But Judas’s blue eyes sparkled in the darkness. He and Jesus sat up all night, one opposite the other, but did not utter a word.

At dawn they started out again. They left the stones of Judea behind them and reached the white soil of Samaria. Jacob’s well was deserted: not a single woman came to draw water and refresh them. They passed rapidly over the heretical soil and then saw their beloved mountains-snow-capped Hermon, graceful Tabor, holy Carmel.

The day grew dim. They lay down under a thickly foliaged cedar and watched the sunset. John pronounced the evening prayer: “Open your doors to us, Lord. The day declines, the sun falls, the sun disappears. We come to your doors, Lord. Open them to us. Eternal, we beseech you, forgive us. Eternal, we beseech you, have mercy upon us. Eternal, save us!”

The air was dark blue. The sky had lost the sun and not yet found the stars. Unadorned, it fell upon the earth. Jesus’ supple, long-fingered hands, pressed against the soil, shone white in the uncertain half light. Within him, the evening prayer was still circulating and doing its work. He heard the trembling hands of men beat desperately on the doors of the Lord, but the doors did not open. The men were knocking and shouting. What were they shouting?

He closed his eyes in order to hear distinctly. The birds of the day had returned to their nests; the night birds had not yet opened their eyes. The villages of mankind were far away: you heard neither the tumult of men nor the barking of dogs. The companions mumbled the evening prayers, but they were sleepy and the holy words sank within them without reverberation. Inside him, however, Jesus heard men beat on the doors of the Lord-on his own heart. They were beating on his warm human heart and crying, “Open! Open! Save us!”

Jesus grasped his breast as though he too were knocking at his heart and begging it to open. And while he struggled, believing himself all alone, he felt someone watching him from behind. He turned. Judas’s cold, inflamed eyes were pinned upon him. Jesus shuddered. This redbeard was a proud, untamable beast. Of all the companions, he felt him the closest to him and yet the furthest away. It seemed that he need explain himself to none other, only to him. He held out his right hand.

“Judas, my brother,” he said, “look: what am I holding?”

Judas strained his neck in the half light in order to see. “Nothing,” he answered. “I don’t see anything.”

“You will see it shortly,” said Jesus smiling.

“The kingdom of heaven,” said Andrew.

“The seed,” said John. “Rabbi, do you remember what you told us by the lake the first time you parted your lips and spoke to us? ‘The sower has come out to sow his seed…’ ”

“And you, Peter?” Jesus asked.

“Master, what can I say to you? If I ask my eyes: nothing. If I ask my heart: everything. Between the two, my mind swings like a bell.”

“Jacob?”

“Nothing. Forgive me, Rabbi, but you’re not holding a single thing.”

“Look!” said Jesus, and he violently lifted his arm. And as he lifted it high and brought it forcefully down, the companions became frightened. Judas was so happy he blushed a bright rose and his whole face gleamed. He grasped Jesus’ hand and kissed it.

“Rabbi,” he shouted, “I saw! I saw! You’re holding the Baptist’s ax!”

But straightway he felt ashamed and angry because he had not been able to restrain his joy. He withdrew again and leaned against the trunk of the cedar.

Jesus’ voice was heard, tranquil and grave. “He brought it to me and placed it at the roots of the rotted tree. That is why he was born: to bring it to me. He could do no more. I came, stooped, picked up the ax-that is why I was born. Now begins my own duty: to chop down the rotted tree. I believed I was a bridegroom and that I held a flowering almond branch in my hand, but all the while I was a wood-chopper. Do you remember how we danced and promenaded in Galilee, proclaiming the beauty of the world, the unity of heaven and earth, and how Paradise would presently open up for us to enter? Friends, it was all a dream. Now we are awake.”

“Is there no kingdom of heaven, then?” Peter cried out, terrified.

“There is, Peter, there is-but within us. The kingdom of heaven is within us; the Devil’s kingdom is without. The two kingdoms fight. War! War! Our first duty is to chop down Satan with this ax.”

“Which Satan?”

“This world about us. Courage, friends-I invited you to war, not to a wedding. Forgive me, for I did not know myself. But whoever among you thinks of wife, children, fields, happiness, let him leave! There is nothing to be ashamed of. Let him rise, say goodbye to us quietly and leave with our blessing. There is still time.”

He was silent. He swept his eyes over the companions. No one moved. The Evening Star, like an immense drop of water, rolled behind the cedar’s black boughs. The night birds shook their dark wings and awoke. A cool breeze flowed down from the mountains. And suddenly, in the sweetness of the eventide, Peter jumped forward and shouted, “Rabbi, I’m with you in this war cheek by jowl-to the death!”

“Those are boastful words, Peter, and I don’t like them. We are passing along a difficult road. Men will oppose us, Peter-for who desires his own salvation? When did a prophet ever rise up to save the people and the people not stone him to death? We are marching along a difficult road. Hold on to your soul for dear life, Peter-it must not escape. The flesh is weak; don’t trust it… Do you hear? It’s you I’m talking to, Peter.”

Peter’s eyes suddenly brimmed with tears. “Don’t you have faith in me, Rabbi?” he murmured. “The man you look at in that way and do not trust: one day he will die for you.”

Jesus put his hand on Peter’s knee and stroked it. “It’s possible… possible…” he murmured. “Forgive me, dearest Peter.”

He turned to the others. “John the Baptist baptized with water,” he said, “and they killed him. I shall baptize with fire. I am making that clear to you tonight so that you’ll know it and won’t complain to me when the dark times crush down upon us. Before we even set out, I’m informing you which way we’re headed: toward death-and after we die, immortality. This is the way. Are you ready?”

The companions grew numb. This voice was severe. It no longer frolicked and laughed; it was calling them to arms. In order to enter the kingdom of heaven, then, would they have to go by way of death? Was there no other road? They were simple men, poor illiterate day laborers, and the world was rich and all-powerful-how could they take up arms against it? If only the angels could descend from heaven and come to their aid! But none of the disciples had ever seen an angel walk on earth and help the poor and despised. They remained silent therefore, secretly measuring and remeasuring the danger. Judas watched them out of the corner of his eye and chuckled with pride. He alone did not calculate. He went to war despising death, caring nothing for his body and less for his soul. He had but one great passion, and it would be a supreme joy to destroy himself for that passion’s sake.

Peter finally opened his mouth. He was the first to speak. “Rabbi, will angels come down from heaven to help us?”

“We are God’s angels on earth, Peter,” Jesus replied. “There are no other angels.”

“But do you think we can manage all by ourselves, Master?” asked Jacob.

Jesus rose. The bridge of his nose was quivering. “Go away,” he shouted. “Abandon me!”

“I won’t forsake you, Rabbi,” cried John. “I’m with you to the death!”

“Me too, Rabbi,” Andrew exclaimed, and he hugged the teacher’s knees.

Two large tears rolled from Peter’s eyes, but he did not speak; and Jacob, who was a strapping young man, bowed his head in shame.