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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 – Advanced)
Topic: Outlandish (05/19/11)

TITLE: Under Cover Of Darkness
By Lisa Fowler
05/24/11


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Under Cover Of Darkness


From my window I saw crowds gathering in the marketplace. The walls of my tiny home shook as they stomped and ran past at a hurried pace. The pulse of the gathering crowd quickened. Laughter of unruly children grew more annoying with each passing moment and I pondered the reason for the multitude.

There were no planned meetings this day but an occasional impromptu gathering was the norm in our village, especially during the sweltering days of summer. As temperatures rise, tempers flare. Often sudden conflicts arise; but by the sounds emanating from the crowd, this was anything but the typical heated assembly.

I tried to continue my work but the noise made it impossible to concentrate. I felt anger rise up within my belly. I was seconds from exploding into a violent rage, when like the sudden, welcome calm before an impending storm, a mysterious stillness silenced the waiting multitude. Curiosity consumed me and I rose to join them.

I inched closer to the front for a better view. Women gently caressed sleeping babies and the same children who were moments ago running wildly along dusty pathways, now sat captivated and sill. Bearded men with uncommon contented looks softening time hardened facial lines, stood quietly listening to the stranger before them.

Slight of stature, He appeared rugged but not particularly handsome; certainly not one you might instantly mark for a leader. His words were soft and not akin to our outspoken Jewish rabbis. He spoke of loving one’s enemies and of turning the other cheek; phrases unconventional to the Torah’s familiar instructions of an eye for an eye. In fact, the more He spoke, the more His words seemed to defy many of our ancient Jewish laws. Everything within my being wanted to scream out against these teachings. After all, is it not my duty as a Pharisee to speak against such things? Yet I stood as the crowd stood; mesmerized and unable to speak.

I scanned the faces. As a righteous leader of the community I would expect all eyes watching my reactions as this Leader spoke, yet I caught no wayward glances. Instead, every eye in the massive crowd appeared fixed upon the small stranger standing before them. What hidden powers did He possess to hold multitudes such as this spellbound and silent? Who was this man?

After a time I backed away, slowly. Winding my way through the waiting hordes I again reached my home. The crowd dispersed and the village slowly returned to its previous humdrum state of affairs; yet for days afterward, a solemn undertow of both
calm and restlessness engulfed the village like a fog.

His words replayed again and again in my mind and though I struggled as a bear with a honeycomb full of angry bees, I could not break their hold. They haunted and troubled me. Powerless, I had to know more.

Shadows blanketed dusty paths. My spirit snickered and mocked. Of all the outlandish ideas - a Pharisee, hiding under cover of darkness to reach this man called Jesus. Fighting back fears of the night and the temptation to pray aloud I whispered “please, let me remain hidden from all who might recognize me.” Over and over again I rehearsed the words I would say as I journeyed. When I reached His camp, oddly without hesitation I began to speak.

“Rabbi,” I began, “by your own words I know you are a teacher sent from God. Please, I must know more. You speak of men being born again yet I am old. How can this be? Can I enter again into my mother’s womb?”

“Nicodemus!” Strange, He knew me, though we had not until this moment, met. His words cut my waiting spirit like a finely honed blade. He spoke of blowing winds, of water and of spirit, of both Heaven and of flesh. My mind could not comprehend His words but my whole being longed for that of which He spoke. I listened intently, but saddened and puzzled, I soon left the stranger; yet through the days and weeks and months to come I grew to understand just what it meant to be born again.

Today, I stand again before this Jesus, as Joseph and I tearfully prepare His body for burial. He said in three days He would live again. Outlandish you say? Ha! I remember thinking that very thing not so long ago.


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This article has been read 256 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Linda Goergen05/28/11
Very believable and wonderfully penned slice of time image of thoughts and feelings of Nicodemus! Enjoyed the read.
Joe Moreland05/28/11
Joseph and Nicodemus are a curious fascination of mine. So little is truly known, but I often wonder about their lives and brave stance. Most of Jesus' disciples were poor and had little to lose, but these two were wealthy and influential men who chose to risk everything to follow Jesus. Who knows, in the end maybe they did as many of the others and gave it all up? We'll never know in this life, but it's interesting theater. I love how you portrayed Nicodemus in this story...driven to know, despite his fear. Great job!
Noel Mitaxa 05/29/11
Great character profile of that shy Irishman (Nick O'Demus) who sought Jesus out "under cover of darkness." You've caught the honesty of his inner struggles so well.
Tracy Nunes 05/30/11
I enjoyed this a great deal. One could feel his frusration, then growing fascination. The inner struggle to know but fear of being pulled out of the comfort of what he knows. Well written!
Theresa Santy 05/31/11
Very nicely done. Your pacing, and narrative tension were perfect.
Shann Hall-LochmannVanBennekom 06/02/11
I love how you did this. At first I thought it was set in modern times. The way you did that managed to show Jesus is as alive today as he was in Nicodemus' time. _I fete the I was right there. Nicely done.

Congratulations for ranking 6th in level three!