The high priest’s servant, Malchus, was in the crowd at the Garden of Gethsemane when Jesus was betrayed by Judas and arrested. I have tried to imagine some of his thoughts and feelings about this time...
Black night hung from the trees in the Garden of Gethsemane. The slapping
thudding sound of soldiers’ sandals reverberated in the dark, punctuated by the
flicker of torches. My heart echoed condemnation for this man Jesus. I had heard
about his blasphemies.
I jostled my way closer to him and his followers. One of them, Judas, stepped
forward and kissed Jesus. A kiss of death, a signal for the soldiers to arrest him.
It was a warm night, but a chill ran up my back.
Peter stomped forward, swung his sword, perhaps in a vain attempt to
rescue his master and leader.
Anger often misses its target. His sword whizzed through the air, slicing off my
ear. I felt warm blood run down my neck and hot burning pain.
“Stop!” Jesus commanded. Peter did. “Malchus!” Jesus said, then placed his
hand over my bleeding ear cavity. I felt a tingling, and my ear restored. For a
brief moment, our eyes met. Something shifted in my soul...
The next day, when they crucified him, I stood at a distance, wiping warm
tears from my face, then rubbing my wet fingers over my healed ear, hearing
these words:
He loved me, he loved me, he loved me!
See Matthew 26:47-52; Mark 14:43-47; Luke 22:47-51; John 18:1-11
