The inevitable day had come. The Passover was near and I had to go to Jerusalem. We had been there before, but this would be quite different. Before, I went in a private and hidden way to the feast. Now, there was no need for secrecy. Indeed, it would have been impossible. My name was known everywhere, even though many in Jerusalem had never seen me. Now, came the hour.

We made our way south from Galilee to Jerusalem. The apostles knew that this time would be different, but their minds were filled with visions of glory. This would be the Messianic entry amid the acclaim of the crowds. These images filled their minds. When I talked of suffering and death, they could not imagine that happening.

We arrived at Bethany, at the house of Martha, Mary and Lazarus, whom I had raised from the dead. How peaceful was my soul in this setting. Then, while at dinner, Mary anointed me with costly nard. Judas protested about using the money for the poor. The apostles themselves, wondered about the wisdom of this action, but I quickly told them, “She has done this for my day of burial”. Still, they did not understand that during these days, I would be the real Passover lamb, of which the first lamb was just a symbol.