If you would prefer to listen to this story as an audio recording, CLICK HERE.

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NOTE: This is the last of four short stories about four different people who encountered Jesus during the months leading up to His crucifixion and resurrection. You will find each of these individuals in the Gospel accounts, however i have added fictional elements to each of their stories so that we might see each one … as they journeyed through their lives leading up to their encounter … and as they continued their journey in the days that followed. You will read the parts of their stories you may already know … and the rest that could have been. Though some of the other characters and details contained in each story may be fictional, you will find the truth conveyed about the One they each encountered to be very REAL! My prayer is that through the stories, you will see Jesus and be reminded of the Good News of the cross and the empty tomb as we enter into this season of remembrance. To that end, let’s look at their stories:

The Paralytic (March 23)

The Grieving Mother (March 30)

The One Caught In The Act (April 6)

The Man Who Owned The Upper Room (This week - April 13)

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My name is Yitzhak and I grew up here in Jerusalem. My ancestors were counted among the remnant that returned here over five hundred years ago with Zerubbabel from Babylon. Those early generations led the effort in rebuilding Jerusalem from the debris left by the Babylonian destruction of the city. My ancestor Pedaiah, son of Parosh, was charged by Nehemiah with the responsibility of rebuilding the section of the wall leading to the Water Gate.

Once the rebuilding was completed, the men returned to their original trade or special craft to meet the demands of a growing city. My ancestors were fullers and weavers. Fullers clean the sheep’s wool and pound it with sticks to clean and prepare it to become cloth. They also clean and retexture old cloth so it can be reused. Weavers, of course, use the wool, as well as flax, to create beautiful woven fabrics of all colors, textures, and styles.

Those early ancestors abutted the building that housed their shops to the area of the wall rebuilt by Pedaiah. As the business grew over the years, other family members added more rooms. Eventually business grew to the point that the family residence was moved to rooms above the shops. Those rooms now serve as my family’s home. With the growing number of pilgrims traveling to Jerusalem for the special feasts, I decided to add a large room on the upper level about three years ago to help accommodate the demand. The rent I charge for that room helps provide additional income for my family.

Jehovah God has continued to bless our business through many generations, and I am now one of the leading tradesmen in Jerusalem. One day my oldest son, Uriah, who is fifteen, will take over the business from me, just as I did from my father. Uriah is a special gift to my wife and me from God – as a matter of fact, He has given him to us twice!

Three years ago, my son was helping me finish the construction of the upper room. We were setting the final roof tiles when my son lost his footing and fell to the street below. I scurried down as fast as I could. Several of my neighbors were already there by his side. My son was not moving, and I could not tell if he was breathing. Gratefully, a neighbor had already run to get the physician.

I felt so helpless as I stared at my son. All I could do was cry out to Jehovah God to help me. Just as I did, a Man knelt beside me. He appeared to be one of the pilgrims who had traveled to Jerusalem for Passover. He had been passing by when Uriah fell and came over to see if He could help. 

The next thing I knew He took my son by the hand and said, “Young man, I say to you, rise!” Immediately, Uriah sat up. He looked at me, then he looked at the stranger. The stranger returned my son’s look and said, “Young man, behold your father.” Then He looked at me and said, “Father, behold your son!”

The Man then rose to His feet and reached down to help Uriah stand. My son said he felt fine and that nothing hurt; it was as if he had never fallen. I looked at him in disbelief. Just a moment before he had been lying there crumpled on the street! The neighbors gathered around us stood there with their mouths agape as if to say, “How can this be?”

I was still on my knees looking up at the Man when I said, “Who are You? And what did You do?”

“Yitzhak,” He said, “you cried out to the Father for help. He heard your prayer and your son has been made whole. All so that the Father might be glorified.”

“Sir,” I replied, “how is it You know my name, but I don’t know Yours? Even so, I know I have You to thank for restoring my son!”

“Thank the Father for hearing and answering your prayer,” the Man said as He reached down and helped me stand to my feet. Smiling broadly He added, “Thank Him for giving you your son once again! And now go, give the boy something to eat.” 

Then He turned and began to make His way toward the temple. My neighbor came to my side and said, “His name is Jesus. He is from Nazareth. And He created quite an uproar in the temple yesterday. He drove out all of the merchants and money-changers. He cleansed the temple just like Ezra the priest had done so many years ago in the presence of our ancestors.

“The religious leaders were irate and demanded, ‘What are You doing? If God gave You authority to do this, show us a miraculous sign to prove it.’(1)

“’All right,’ Jesus had replied. ‘Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.’(2)

“’What!’ they exclaimed. ‘It has taken forty-six years to build this Temple, and You can rebuild it in three days?”(3)

“I thought it was a strange thing for Jesus to say to the religious leaders,” my neighbor continued. “But now that I have seen Him awaken your son, I believe He can do anything He says He can do!”

“So do I!” I exclaimed, before I ran to catch Him and thank Him one more time.

Jesus returned to Jerusalem several times after that. Each time He created quite a stir in the temple. The religious leaders continued in their attempts to discredit Him, but each time the city was filled with witnesses who had observed how Jesus rebuffed, rebuked, and corrected the religious leaders. The reports continued of countless people who were healed by that very same touch that made my son whole.

Jesus stopped by to see me personally when He was here for the Feast of Dedication a few months ago. He asked me if my upper room was available for Him and His followers to celebrate the Passover. I told Him it was His to use whenever He needed it and for as long as He liked. He explained He would need it off and on from Passover through the Day of Pentecost. It was such an insignificant way for me to thank Him for all He had done – but I was glad I could repay Him in some small way.

He told me He would send some of His followers on the morning before the Passover to make preparations. He asked me to have one of my servants meet them at the Sheep Gate and then lead them to the room. I told Him I would have my servant carry a pitcher of water so they would know to follow him.

Yesterday morning a few of His disciples arrived to make their preparations. They said, “The Teacher asks, ‘Where is the guest room where I can eat the Passover meal with My disciples?’”(4) 

Though Jesus had said His followers would prepare the meal, I had asked that He allow me to provide the meat and grains they would need. He had graciously permitted me to do so. When they arrived at the room, everything was in place, and they busily began their preparations to make things ready.

Later in the day, Jesus and the rest of His disciples arrived. Before He made His way to the upper room, He stopped to greet Uriah and me. He thanked me for providing a place for Him to spend this special time with His followers. He asked Uriah to bring a basin of water and a towel to the upper room and set it by His place at the table. He said He would need them for something He planned to do that evening.

As we were talking, I could tell something was wrong. Jesus’s demeanor was different, and the disarming smile I had become accustomed to was absent. His eyes had the appearance of flint, as if He were solely focused on what was before Him. Uriah and I had been in the street the other day when He entered the city riding on the colt of a donkey. We had joined our voices with the others in shouting, “Hosanna!” But I knew much had happened in the four days since then. The whole city knew about how He had again driven the merchants and money-changers out of the temple.

It was clear that the religious leaders were plotting something against Jesus. No one knew what it was, but there was a sense of foreboding among the people. If the rest of Jerusalem and I were aware of it, I knew Jesus was even more aware of it. That had to be weighing heavily on Him.

I told Jesus to let me know if He needed us to do anything else for the remainder of His time. I assured Him we would have the room ready for His arrival each evening. I asked if He would be able to join our family for a meal before He left Jerusalem. He smiled and thanked me for the invitation, but He never gave me an answer. Then He continued upstairs to gather with His followers.

They remained in the upper room until very late in the evening. Most of the men left with Him as they headed toward the Mount of Olives. After cleaning up from the meal, I saw the women in His party leave, heading in a different direction. Apparently, they would be lodging somewhere else.

All was calm when I finally retired to bed for the night, but when I awoke this morning it was anything but calm! I heard shouting in the street: “Jesus has been arrested! The religious leaders have bound Him, and their temple guards are delivering Him as a prisoner to Pontius Pilate! They say they plan to crucify Him!”

I could not believe my ears! This was madness! What were the religious leaders thinking? What were their accusations against Jesus? If there was ever anyone who didn’t deserve to be crucified, it was Him! 

A frenzy ignited as the news spread throughout the city. There were many like me who were weeping and unable to comprehend what was happening. Others were shouting, “He claims to be the Son of God! Crucify Him!” And there were still others who were just curious to see what all the excitement was about.

It wasn’t long before I heard that He was being led through the streets like a common criminal to be crucified. Uriah and I pushed our way through the crowd assembled to gawk at Him. We gasped when we saw Him. He was unrecognizable. His face was broken and bruised. The robe on His back was covered in blood. Someone had placed a crown of thorns on His head and pushed it into His skull. It was such a contrast to a few days ago when we witnessed Him riding on the donkey’s colt through these very streets!

The sight of Him made me nauseous. I could not stand to see what they had done to my Lord! My grief was greater than anything I had ever experienced. Uriah and I retreated from the crowd and wept in each other’s arms. I wanted to help Jesus, but I didn’t know how. I hadn’t felt that helpless since the day Uriah fell from the roof. Jesus had been there to lift Him up that day. But now, who was going to lift up Jesus?

When we finally made it back home, I headed to the upper room. That was one of the last places Jesus had been, and I hoped I would feel closer to Him there. As I entered the room, I discovered one of His disciples – the one called Peter. He, too, was weeping uncontrollably. Neither of us could speak. I did not want to interrupt His time of sorrow, so I made my way back downstairs to find my own quiet place.

“Father,” I cried out, “three years ago I called out to You to save my son, and You did! Father, now would You please save Your Son?”

Soon, the sky turned dark – as black as night. And it remained that way for several hours. I began to realize that the pain I felt paled in comparison to the pain God was feeling. I knew there was nothing greater than a father’s agony when his child is suffering. God had chosen to relieve my pain ... but He was now choosing to endure His own.

I then remembered what Jesus had told the religious leaders: If the temple was destroyed, He would raise it up in three days. Could it be?

The One who had stood before me said the Father had chosen to restore my son to bring glory to His name. I knew He was choosing to not save His Son for the same reason … to bring glory to His name!

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You can listen to an audio recording of this story by tuning into this week’s episode of my podcast by  CLICKING HERE

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In multiple instances the dialogue in this story comes directly from Scripture. Whenever i am quoting Scripture, it has been italicized. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights reserved.

The Scripture references are as follows:

(1)  John 2:18

(2)  John 2:19

(3)  John 2:20

(4)  Luke 22:11

Copyright © 2022 Kenneth A. Winter All rights reserved.

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