I’ve been accounted for many things and responsible for many sins, even against my friends. I plead with you to listen to my guilt, though it seems as if a nightmare that speaks of the vilest thoughts in my heart.

I’ve stood before the cross, afraid of its fair sight. It’s wonder and triumphant glory made the stains of my sins appear on my flesh as a reminder of my shame. My hands were covered with the blood of guilt, my head conscious of the heavy betray. The Lord’s tree bled on the right side, and I began to be afraid. I couldn’t face the brave warrior’s embrace as he hung there to die for me - turning, I fled.

I light a candle to give light to the dark, damp room I hid in, but it seems to shroud the room with darkness instead. In the solitary state I’ve been in for days, the heavy silver and bloody sword by my side served as a constant reminder, telling the tale of my once beloved pride over again.

The serpent, my once conscience, who once told me falsely where my pride should be. All is now gone, only to be replaced by burning guilt. All that I’ve gained from this is the loss of a friend whom I loved, the warrior who told me to honor him before all else. Why have I been so weak and tempted? I, who knew your glory, tasted your love, felt your presence, why did I trade it all away for momentary offerings?

The candle blows out, and a cold sweeps over the room.

“Who comes here?”

My eyes are weak, and the apparition before me seems monstrous.

“Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil? Why com’st thou?”

And like the voice of hope, it spoke, “I’ve died for you as you sacrificed me. I’ve tasted death for you, there on the cross, and rose again. Don’t be afraid and ashamed, for though you’ve forsaken me I’ve forgiven you and still love you. Through the cross shall the kingdom be sought by each soul on this earthly journey that thinks to dwell with the Lord.”

As He disappeared, I began to weep and pray. My hearts longings turned back to Him, where the hope of life waits for me. For my heart’s desire is great, and my hope of protection is directed to the Cross. Though I’ve betrayed him by letting other things enter my heart, He still endured to love me.

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I hope you guys aren't confused about what you just read. I wrote this this past weekend as a reflection of what easter means to me. I've been reflecting over the momentary things that I've let take over my own heart lately, which has slowly been distracting me away from God. And since easter is a the story of Christ's death and ascension, I thought of the story from Judas' point of view. He was the one who betrayed Christ, yet Christ died for his sins and still loved him.

But wait, before any credit is given to me I have to explain:

There's an old tenth-century English poem called "Dream of the Rood" which is basically a poem written from the point of view of the cross (rood means cross) and how Jesus, the warrior, hung to die for all. I basically took that poem and mixed it with Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, in the scene where Caesar's ghost appears to Brutus.

It occurred to me that both Judas and Brutus sold out/sacrificed a dear friend to them, and the resulting consequence ended up ruining them. But although the narrator is both the fictionalized version of Judas and Brutus, the narrator also reflects us since often in our lives we let other things take precedence, thus casting aside or sacrificing Christ.