The crowd cheered and raised their arms toward the sky.

Peter’s eyes drifted across the swelling ocean of people. He grew drunk on their adoring gazes and bitterly regretted that his father was not alive to see.

By the time Peter arrived in Bethany, a small group of Jesus’s heartier supporters had caught up to him. Uncertain as to what was happening, they lingered at the back of the crowd. From there, they stared in confusion at the strange scene—Jesus, astride his donkey, was donning a richly dyed indigo robe, and being led by a grinning, moon-faced man, while a disorderly, almost frantic mob clamored about him.

Stranger still, his beloved sisters were nowhere to be seen. Had he abandoned them, too?

As the crowd spilled into the village, a young woman rushed out of a crooked dwelling. Pushing her way through the throng of people, she threw herself in front of the healer’s donkey.

“Please, please, great Master!” she wailed. “My brother has died, yet he is all I have. You must save him! Please! You must!”

The original followers standing at the back of the crowd remembered how Jesus had responded to the child with the dead sparrow. Holding still, they waited to hear him speak again of how death was an intrinsic part of life, and not to be thwarted, or “cured.”

Lifting himself tall on his mount, Peter stared down at the young woman and asked, “Tell me, daughter, how long has your brother been dead?”

Smearing tears from her cheeks, the young woman answered, “He has been dead four days.”

Those in the crowd dropped their heads. There was no hope. Her brother’s body would already be decomposing.

While the onlookers whispered among themselves, Peter and Saul exchanged a look. Peter then took a long, deep breath. “Daughter, do not weep!” he called aloud so that all could hear. “Your brother is not dead, but sleeping. Take me to him, so that I may show you!”

An expression of shock and joy spread across the young woman’s face, and without another word, she dashed back toward her village. The crowd let out an exuberant cheer and rushed to follow the moon-faced man as he hurried Peter’s donkey after the woman.

Those in the back of the crowd remained behind, trading looks of astonishment. Never before had their healer suggested that death might be overcome. In truth, this message was anathema to anything he had ever told them. Baffled, they began to complain aloud.

“That is not what he teaches. That is not what he believes. Something is wrong here!” one cried.

Another, raising his hand against the sun’s glare, said, “Is that truly Jesus? Could that not be his brother, Peter?”

Within seconds, two of Saul’s minions approached the disgruntled supporters.

“You seem to have questions,” one of them said. “Perhaps we can help. Come with us and share a meal.”