Back The Christ Commission
Chapters (23)
  1. Cover
  2. Other Books by This Author
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. one
  8. two
  9. three
  10. four
  11. five
  12. six
  13. seven
  14. eight
  15. nine
  16. ten
  17. eleven
  18. twelve
  19. thirteen
  20. fourteen
  21. fifteen
  22. sixteen
  23. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mark scowled and tugged at his pointed chin. “I believe I said, ‘Be not afraid: You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified: he is risen; he is not here: behold the place where they laid him. But go your way, tell his disciples and Peter that he goes before you into Galilee: there shall you see him, as he said unto you.’ ”

So much for angels at the tomb. Still, for a private grave in a foreboding pre-dawn setting, there had been considerable traffic. John and Peter, of course, but preceding them had been Mary Magdalene and the other women. And now I knew, for a certainty, that Mark had been there before any of them! But who had preceded Mark? If I had that answer I’d probably also know the identity of my grave robber. I shook my head in bewilderment and caught the slight smirk on Joseph of Arimathea’s old face as he watched me straining for a solution to the mystery that had brought me here in the first place.

“Mark, according to Mary Magdalene, both John and Peter ran to the tomb as soon as she brought them the news that someone had taken the body of Jesus. How is it that they did not meet you on the road or find you still in the garden?”

He grinned. “I returned through the streets of the city rather than the road outside the wall. Then I rushed upstairs, unseen, and crawled under my blankets and pretended that I was asleep.”

Mark’s mother was calling to him from the courtyard below. Wood was needed for the fire. He turned to me apologetically, but I told him I was finished with my questions anyway and thanked him for his help. His parting embrace momentarily surprised me before I realized that, so far as he was concerned, my gold amulet had certified that I was one of them. All at once I felt exhausted. Beat. A sleepwalker.

Joseph said consolingly, “Come inside, Matthias. Let us rest.”

I followed him back into the large upper room and slumped down on the green cushions at the huge table with its perpetual candlelight. The old man leaned toward me, hands together almost in the prayer position.

“Matthias, it has been my great privilege and honor to have accompanied you during the past four days. After observing you and listening to you deal so skillfully with all manner of witnesses in order to uncover the truth, it is not difficult to understand why your books of crime and detection have won you worldwide renown.”

I braced myself. Joseph of Arimathea continued.