The apostles were caught up in a different stream. Three times I warned them that suffering and death awaited me, but the intoxication of the crowds and the enthusiasm was too much for them. They even saw themselves as sitting at my right and my left in my kingdom. Little did they realize that at my right and left would be two crucified thieves.

The days had their own purposes. The people were taught and healed but there was always the gaping wound of my passion. Only one disciple really understood. He was beloved to me. He was out of the limelight, always in the shadows, never pushing himself forward, but I always had him at my side.

He understood my deepest feelings. He grasped that all of this would suddenly collapse. As he later wrote, “The grain of wheat falling into the ground must die, or it remains only a grain of wheat”. What a clear image of what had to happen!