A Bible Story

Disclaimer: This is a fictional short story about a real character. Based on events recorded in Luke 23:39-43.


My Name is Daniel. 
In Hebrew, my name means, "God is my judge."
I've lived a hard life. Jerusalem is not the place it once was now it is under Roman rule. I am a fishmonger, or rather, I was a fishmonger. With my partner, Amit, I would catch the fish by night and sell them on the street by day. This left little time for my family or for sleep. We had always been good friends, although we didn't always see eye to eye. It was after all, him who introduced me to thievery. Business had been hard and we were struggling just to feed our families. The Romans, with their taxes and discriminatory practices, were no help either. They humiliated us in the streets, just for sport. But worse, they took what they pleased and the law held little sympathy for the Jews. Once upon a time I had 2 daughters. A year ago, a Roman soldier took my eldest at night. My wife and I got outside just in time to see a Roman horse riding swiftly away from our home. He threw one furtive glance back at us as they rode away. My eyes will never forget his face, nor will my ears forget her screams. We never saw either of them again. The law did not help us.
Our families lived in a small set of run-down shacks on the outskirts of Jerusalem, while Roman guards lived in the city barracks, well fed and even entertained. When they gambled, laughed and made merriment in the streets, they would often leave their horses unattended. These horses often had a few valuable trinkets attached to their saddles. Coinpurses, little flasks of wine, sometimes daggers. In a crowd, and when the Romans were preoccupied, it wasn't terribly hard to quickly untie one of these valuables and slip back into the crowd. Amit did it all the time, casually, automatically, on the way back from the market. He had to press me to do it the first time. I knew what the Law of Moses had to say about stealing. But I hated, despised, loathed these Romans. It got easier, the more I did it. But then it happened. The day I ruined my family, Amit and myself with nothing more than a simple brick.
That day, there was an unusual stir in the crowd of people on the streets. I asked a passerby what the commotion was and he told me that they were trying a heretic. In hearing this Amit and I exchanged glances and without a word, left our fish stand to join the crowd. Trials always meant distracted Romans. It would be a good chance to fill our pockets. We entered the square where the trail was already taking place. I saw the man standing next to Pilot. He had a strange air about him. He looked exhausted, as if he had born the weight of the world on his shoulders. He definitely didn't look like a crazy heretic. But no matter. There was business to be done. I found a near-by guard and carefully pilfered his coin purse, which was in one of his saddle bags. Amit parted from me and casually followed a Roman who had just arrived. I moved to the next guard and found a beautiful bracelet in his saddle bag. But something kept drawing my attention to the trial. I worked my way closer to the front of the crowd and asked a man who it was that stood before us on trial. The man turned to me, his face lined with worry and tears streaming down his face and said,
"It is Jesus Christ. The Son of God."
My eyes darted up to look at the man next to Pilot. And I was surprised to find him looking at me. Our eyes locked and in that split second I saw my childhood, heard my name, all of the lessons I received from the Rabbi, the time I spent learning the Law of Moses from my parents, the day I was betrothed to my wife, the years I spent working for her and my family. And I remembered the times I had stolen from the Romans. Every angry, vengeful thought I had for the man who had stolen and killed my daughter. Those thoughts still swirled somewhere in the back of my mind. I hated him. I had not forgiven, nor would I forget. Christ's eyes saddened.
Daniel.
The coinpurse suddenly felt heavier. My conscience churned and my soul shrunk within me. I was ashamed to hold his gaze and looked down at my feet.
Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder and jumped. It was Amit.
"Everything ok?" He asked.
"Yes" I lied.
And then something caught my eye. A Roman standing over by the outer wall. Something was familiar about him. No. It was THE Roman. It was him. How could I ever forget that face. He was standing by his horse, watching the trial. I turned and strode through the crowd toward him, my eyes focused only on him. The experience I had just had suddenly behind me, all I could see was revenge, all I could hear were my daughters screams. Somehow, a brick on the ground caught my attention. It appeared to have fallen from the wall. Since I was unarmed, I picked it up and continued toward my target. A few feet from him I lifted my weapon, aimed for his stupid, surprised face, and paused. Forgive him. I felt a voice.
Forgive him Daniel. He doesn't know what he's doing.
My emotions raged inside me and I stood frozen in indecision, my brick raised high, tears running down my face. I saw terror in his eyes, his hand reaching for his sword.
I love him like I love you Daniel.
My arm collapsed. I dropped the all-important brick of revenge. The guard looked confused for a moment, then drew his sword and held it to my throat. He obviously didn't recognize me. He didn't know what had just transpired. Amit, who had followed me, hastily tried to intervene by conversing with the guard but to no avail. Other soldiers were called to us and we were searched, our crimes discovered. I saw the rage and indignation on their faces when they discovered our stolen goods. Our fate was sealed.
What happened next was a blur of shouting, beating, and dragging until we were thrust into a temporary prison. We sat, huddled in terror, for a while. Then we were called before a Roman official, judged of our crimes, and condemned to crucifixion. Upon condemnation, Amit snapped. He turned on me and began screaming obscenities as he strained against his bondsmen. I had betrayed him, blown our situation, ruined our families. But for some reason I felt different. Lighter. The burden of my hate for that Roman seemed to lessen. I felt sadness for him. And confusions as to our situation and what I was feeling.
"Traiter! You betrayed me! You got us caught! If you would have just stuck to the plan, neither of us would be here right now!"
Amit writhed in the grip of his guards until a blow to the head cut him short.
We were stripped, beaten, humiliated. Each of us carried our cross to the hill Golgotha as blows rained down upon us. There we were raised up into the air, swaying precariously as we prayed for death to relieve us quickly. Amit was in a state of absolute distress. He cried for his family. He cried for his sins. He cried that we had gotten caught. He cried till he was short of breath. I was in as much pain as he was, the reality of my sins bearing down upon me. But I had forgiven. For that one deed was I hopeful.
The world was buzzing with pain, my head swam and I could barely see. But I noticed that Amit and I were arranged on either side of another man, condemned to a crueler fate than we. He had been nailed to his cross, his head cut and bleeding from a crown of thorns. It was the man they had called Jesus Christ.

Luke 23:39-43
And one of the malefactors which were hanged railed on him,saying, If thou be Christ, save thyself and us.
But the other answering rebuked him, saying, Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation?
And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss.
And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.
And Jesus said unto him, Very I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise.

I closed my eyes, my heart lightened, my cross forgotten. I had dropped my brick.