EDITOR’S NOTE: The fourth installment from the Daily Matzo, a rare extant parchment throw-away rag of 30 A.D. Jerusalem coffee shops, chronicles the unprecedented events surrounding the crucifixion and resurrection of one Joshua Ben Joseph, the Galilean boat builder, and coincidentally, the “Son of God.”

[Daily Matzo] Editor’s Preface of April 9, 30 A.D. : All Jerusalem is astir this morning, as the startling events of this week continue to amaze and bewilder the entire populace, along with the estimated one and a half million passover visitors to the city. We have attempted to keep loyal readers of this humble parchment aware of the tumultuous events of the developing story surrounding the Galilean prophet, Jesus of Nazareth, who was summarily tried, convicted, and executed through the official auspices of our Roman procurator, Pontious Pilate, this past Friday morning, following what knowledgeable observers have called an “embarrassing travesty” of failed justice for one of our citizens.

JERUSALEM — Words will never describe the event that has been reported in the environs of our holy city this morning. Unimpeachable sources are confirming that, not only is the crucified body of the Galilean prophet, Jesus, missing from the tomb of its internment, but the prophet has been reported alive and fully sensible by numerous witnesses.

We pick up the story with our sources inside the Sanhedrin, who have confirmed a group of chief priests gathered at the home of Caiaphas near midnight, Friday. They discussed their fears concerning the prophet’s assertions that he would “rise from the dead on the third day.” They appointed a committee to officially request a Roman guard be stationed at the tomb, to prevent his disciples from stealing the body by night, and proclaiming to the people that Jesus had risen from the dead.

“Did not this Jesus tell you, even in Galilee,
that he would die, but that he would rise again?”

Subsequently, Pilate did provide a guard of ten soldiers to accompany the ten Jewish guards. These soldiers rolled yet another stone before the tomb, and set the seal of Pilate on and around these stones, lest they be disturbed without their knowledge.

Witnesses confirm the tomb had indeed been sealed with two stones. The larger of these two stones is a huge circular milled stone, which moves in a groove chiseled out of the rock, to be rolled back and forth to open or close the tomb.

On condition of strict anonymity, a source tells Matzo the Jewish guards and the Roman soldiers, in the dim light of the morning, supposedly saw this huge stone begin to roll away from the entrance of the tomb, apparently of its own accord— without any visible means to account for such motion.

Our sources say the entire contingent of soldiers panicked, the Jews fleeing to their homes, the Romans to the fortress of Antonia. Reports are now circulating that the guards have not been disciplined— but in fact, have been paid bribes and have been instructed to say, “While we slept during the nighttime, his disciples came upon us and took away the body.”

Are we to believe the few fishermen, carpenters, and common folk who followed Jesus, overcame twenty soldiers of the Roman and Jewish guard?!?

Are we to believe all twenty soldiers are so derelict in their duty they ALL TOOK A NAP??

AT THE SAME TIME???

What— Are we a putz!?

But the story grows even more incredible.

Matzo has learned that, early this morning, Jesus was seen by— and spoke with— one Mary Magdalene, and four other women who were attempting to complete the proper burial preparations on the body of Jesus. (They had agreed amongst themselves to do so, after having secreted themselves near the tomb Friday and witnessing the haphazard internment of Jesus.)

Mary Magdalene, in an exclusive interview with Matzo, is adamant that she has in fact spoken with the risen Jesus, whom she refers to exclusively as “the Master,” on two separate occasions since approximately three-thirty o’clock this morning. Our exclusive interview:

A little before three o’clock this Sunday morning as the first signs of day began to appear in the east, five women, with an abundance of embalming lotions and linen bandages, started out for the tomb of Jesus. As we passed through the Damascus gate, we encountered a number of soldiers fleeing into the city more or less panic-stricken, and this caused us to pause for a few minutes; but when nothing more developed, we continued on.

When we arrived at the tomb, we were greatly surprised to see not one, but two stones rolled away from the entrance to the tomb, inasmuch as we had been wondering on the way out, who will help us roll away the stone? We set down our supplies, and stood looking upon one another in fear and amazement.

As we stood there, trembling with fear, I ventured around the smaller stone and dared to enter the open sepulchre. (She explains the tomb is on the hillside on the eastern side of the road, and it also faces toward the east.) By this hour there was just enough of the dawn to enable me to see where the Master’s body had lain and to discern that it was gone. I could see only the folded napkin where his head had rested and the bandages wherewith he had been wrapped lying intact; the covering sheet lay at the foot of the burial niche.

Standing in the doorway of the tomb for a few moments (I did not see distinctly when I first entered the tomb), and seeing that Jesus’ body was indeed gone, and seeing only the grave cloths, I cried out in anguish. The other women, having been on edge ever since meeting the panicky soldiers at the city gate, became terror-stricken and fled. And they did not stop until they had run all the way to the Damascus gate, where they realized they had deserted me at the tomb, and started back.

I was greatly afraid when I failed to find my sisters waiting when I came out of the tomb. After a long and fearful moment, I saw them approaching, and rushed up to them exclaiming: “He is not there— they have taken him away!” Going back to the tomb, all of us entered and saw that it was empty.

We at first conjectured that the body had been moved to another resting place. But we were at a loss to account for the orderly arrangement of the grave cloths; how could the body have been removed since the very bandages in which it was wrapped were left in position and apparently intact on the burial shelf?

As we puzzled over this, I looked to one side to see a silent and motionless stranger. Thinking he might be the caretaker of the garden, I said, “Where have you taken the Master? Where have they laid him? Tell us that we may go and get him.” But the stranger did not answer me. I began to weep.

Then spoke this stranger to us, saying, “Whom do you seek?” I said: “We seek for Jesus who was laid to rest in Joseph’s tomb, but he is gone. Do you know where they have taken him?”

Then he said : “Did not this Jesus tell you, even in Galilee, that he would die, but that he would rise again?” These words startled all of us, but this figure was so changed that we, I, could not yet recognize him with his back turned to the dim light. As we pondered his words, he addressed me with a familiar voice, saying, “Mary.” And when I heard that word— so well-known to me, and filled with sympathy and affection, I knew instantly it was the voice of the Master, and I rushed to kneel at his feet; I said, “My Lord, and my Master!”

And then all of my sisters recognized it was the Master who stood before us— in glorified form— and they too knelt before him.

I sought to embrace his feet, but Jesus said: “Touch me not, Mary, for I am not as you knew me in the flesh. In this form will I tarry with you for a season before I ascend to the Father. But go, all of you, now and tell my apostles— and Peter— that I have risen, and that you have talked with me.”

After we had somewhat recovered from the shock of our amazement, we hastened back to the city and to the home of — well, I cannot tell you— but where we related to the apostles all that had happened to us; but they were not inclined to believe us. They thought we had seen a vision, but when I repeated the words Jesus had spoken to us, and when Peter heard his name, he rushed out, followed closely by John, to see these things for themselves.

Again I repeated this story to the other apostles, but they would not believe; and they would not go to find out for themselves as had Peter and John.

I returned to the tomb, downcast and despairing at the apostles, who would not believe me. My heart longed to be back where I had heard the Master’s voice.

When I arrived back at the tomb, Peter was saying the body had been stolen by enemies of Jesus, but John reasoned that the grave could not have been left in so orderly a fashion— and how to explain that the bandages had been left behind, so obviously intact?

I lingered at the tomb after John and Peter had left. And in a moment, the Master again appeared to me, saying, “Be not doubting; have the courage to believe what you have seen and heard. Go back to my apostles and again tell them that I have risen, that I will appear to them, and that presently I will go before them into Galilee as I promised.” I immediately did as the Master instructed, but again they would not believe me; they were filled with fear.

My sisters had gone to the home of Nicodemus and told them what had happened. Some of those gathered there felt the Jews [the priests?] must have taken the body, but Joseph [of Arimathea] hurried out to see the tomb, particularly the grave cloths; and they were the last to so view the sepulchre, for the captain of the temple guards arrived at the tomb at half past seven o’clock and removed the grave cloths.

We at the Matzo are not unaware of the strange and unbelievable nature of the events we report, but we do so that you might decide these things for yourselves.

The story even now continues to unfold, and despite many threats now being directed at our coverage of this story, we intend to tell the story despite all risks. Liberty is indeed dangerous, but it is the safest thing we have.

DISCOVER THE URANTIA BOOK

EDITOR’S NOTE: The continuing exposition of the remarkable, recently discovered account of the crucifixion of Joshua Ben Joseph, aka Jesus Christ, aka, Jesus of Nazareth, aka, the Galilean. . . from the “Daily Matzo,” a parchment rag of circa 30 A.D. Jerusalem, widely distributed around Judea, the only extant copy recently unearthed in a Capernaum coffee and bagel bar known as the “Caper-ccino.”

JERUSALEM — Early this Saturday morning, Temple guards, on orders from the high priest, acting on a tip from an anonymous source, discovered the torn and shattered remains of one Judas Iscariot, in the near vicinity of the deep and narrow ravine west of the city known to all as the Valley of Hinnom; the dump of all Jerusalem.

First reports indicate it appeared the man had attempted to hang himself from a small tree, but the knot tied in the girdle of his cloak gave way, causing Iscariot to be dashed to pieces on the jagged rocks below.

Daily Matzo has learned Iscariot was the only son of a wealthy Sadducee Judean couple, believed to be living in Jericho. Records indicate Iscariot was born in Kerioth, a small town in southern Judea. He was thirty years of age and unmarried when he joined the apostles in January, A.D. 27. There are unconfirmed reports he had sought employment with a fish-drying enterprise at Tarichea, when he became associated with the Galilean prophet.

Iscariot was known to be the treasurer of the twelve apostles of Jesus of Nazareth, and is now a person of great interest in the on-going spectacle of the crucifixion of Jesus yesterday morning at Golgatha. Unnamed sources have come forward this day, purporting intrigues involving Iscariot and the temple high priest, Caiaphas.

A source wishing to remain secret, spoke at length with Daily Matzo of Iscariot’s character, having been a life-long acquaintance of the deceased. In an exclusive interview with Matzo, Iscariot was said to be a “spoiled child,” often “pampered and petted.” As he grew up, he had exaggerated ideas about his self-importance. He was widely known as a poor loser.

He was also said to have had loose and distorted ideas about fairness, and was given to the indulgence of hate and suspicion. He was said to be expert at misinterpretation of the words and acts of his friends. “All through his life, Judas had cultivated the habit of getting even with those whom he fancied had mistreated him,” the source confided.

Relatives of Iscariot, who wish to remain anonymous under these circumstances, have revealed that just this Thursday, Judas had disclosed to certain Sadducean friends of his father’s family, that he had reached the conclusion that, while Jesus was a “well-meaning dreamer and idealist, he was not the expected deliverer of Israel.” He went on to say that he would very much like to find some way of withdrawing gracefully from the whole movement.

Iscariot’s relatives also felt his friends had assured him that his withdrawal would be hailed by Jewish rulers as “a great event,” and they led him to believe that he would forthwith receive high honors from the Sanhedrin, and that he would be in a position to erase the stigma of his well-meant but “unfortunate association with untaught Galileans.”

Judas was said to have been troubled however, and confided to kin he could not quite believe that the mighty works of Jesus had been wrought by the power of the prince of devils, as the Sanhedrin believed; but he was fully convinced that Jesus would allow himself to be destroyed by the Jewish rulers, and he felt he could “not endure the humiliating thought of being identified with a movement of defeat.”

Although it is said Iscariot was a good business man, and was generally regarded as a good thinker, he was not always a truly honest thinker. He was known as a stickler for organization.

Associates close to the apostles, whose whereabouts are unknown since the crucifixion, anonymously point to the case of Judas Iscariot as illustrative of the truthfulness of the saying: “There is a way that seems right to a man, but the end thereof is death.”

[See the next segment, "JESUS. IS. DEAD."]

*****You have selected the most read post on this blog.*****

EDITOR’S NOTE: As promised, the startling second installment of the recently unearthed account of the Crucifixion of Joshua Ben Joseph, the Galilean carpenter of Nazareth, as depicted in the “Daily Matzo,” a parchment magazine discovered in a Capernaum coffee and bagel bar known only as the “Caper-ccino.”

JERUSALEM — Approximately 200 onlookers, consisting mostly of enemies of Jesus, curious idlers, and perhaps a few supporters, follow along with the Roman soldiers who take Jesus up to Golgatha shortly after nine o’clock this Friday morning, 14 Nisan [April 7, 30 A.D.]. With the crossbeam on his shoulders according to custom, Jesus is led by the captain of the guard, who carries the white boards with the names of the criminals and the nature of their crimes. Two of the boards carry the word “brigand,” but the board for the cross of Jesus has been written by Pilate himself— in Latin, Greek, and Aramaic— and reads: “Jesus of Nazareth— the King of the Jews.”

The customary route to Golgatha is not followed, the captain instead choosing the more direct route via the Damascus gate north out of the city. Still, many women who had known of Jesus’ life of loving ministry dare to follow the procession, weeping and lamenting, in bold disregard of the law prohibiting such displays of sympathy for the condemned. Jesus takes notice of the women and speaks briefly to them saying,

“Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but rather weep for yourselves and for your children. My work is about done— soon I go to my Father— but the times of terrible trouble for Jerusalem are just beginning. Behold, the days are coming in which you shall say: Blessed are the barren and those whose breasts have never suckled their young. In those days will you pray the rocks of the hills to fall on you in order that you may be delivered from the terrors of your troubles.”

Observers marvel at the stamina of the prophet, having had no food or water— and certainly no sleep— since his arrest at Gethsemane park Thursday night. Not surprisingly, he appears near exhaustion, and shortly after passing through the Damascus gate, he falls. Despite several severe kicks to his body by the soldiers, he cannot rise; the captain seeing this, commands the soldiers to stop, and orders a passerby, one Simon from Cyrene, to assume the burden of the crossbeam.

Shortly after nine o’clock the procession reaches Golgatha, and the grim task of nailing the three to their crosses begins. Jesus is quickly garbed with the customary lion cloth provided by the Romans after his clothes are removed, accommodating our people’s great objection to public exposure of the naked human form.

The soldiers first bind the Teacher’s arms with cords to the crossbeam, then nail his hands to the wood. It is said that the ideas, motives, and longings of a lifetime are openly revealed in a crisis. As they nail him to the crossbeam, he is heard to say, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

When they have hoisted this crossbeam up on the post, and after they nail it securely to the upright timber of the cross, they bind and nail his feet to the wood, using one long nail which penetrates both feet. The upright timber has a large peg inserted at the proper height, which serves to support the body weight. As is customary at Golgatha, the cross is not high; the prophet’s feet are but three feet from the ground.

After the Galilean is hoisted on the cross, the captain nails the title up above his head, which reads in three languages, “Jesus of Nazareth— the King of the Jews.” Many who stand under the cross are infuriated by this perceived insult. Pilate, who surely felt he had been intimidated and humiliated, now takes this method of obtaining his petty revenge. He knows too, how the Jerusalem Jews detest the very name of Nazareth, and now he humiliates them. He knows that they will also be cut to the very quick by seeing this executed Galilean called “The King of the Jews.”

When the Jewish leaders learn how Pilate is deriding them with this inscription on the cross of Jesus, they hasten to Golgotha, but they dare not attempt to remove the board, as the Roman soldiers are standing guard. These leaders then mingled with the crowd to incite derision and ridicule, lest anyone give serious regard to the inscription.

Just as the captain is nailing the title above his head, the Apostle John, with Mary the mother of Jesus, Ruth, a sister of Jesus, and Jude, his brother, arrive. Apparently this apostle is the only one of the eleven apostles to witness the crucifixion of their “Master.” As Jesus sees his mother, with John and his brother and sister, he gives them a brief but silent smile.

Meanwhile the four soldiers, as is the custom, divide his clothes among them. One takes the sandals, one the turban, one the girdle, and the fourth his cloak. This leaves his tunic, a seamless vestment reaching down to near the knees, to be cut up into four pieces. But when the soldiers see what an unusual garment it is, they cast lots for it. Jesus looks down on them as they divided his garments, and as the crowd jeers at him.

Before eleven o’clock, upward of one thousand persons are witnessing this spectacle of the crucifixion of the so-called “Son of Man.” If we are to believe him, we are all witnessing the death of the Son of God; we must also assume that a watching universe of angels stands by in silent horror, as they witness God dying the death of the creature, even this, the most ignoble death of a condemned criminal.

Many who pass by wag their heads and, railing at him, say: “You who would destroy the temple and build it again in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God, why do you not come down from your cross?”

Some of the rulers of the Jews mock him, saying, “He saved others, but himself he cannot save!”

Others say, “If you are the king of the Jews, come down from the cross, and we will believe in you.” And later on, they mocked him the more, saying: “He trusted in God to deliver him. He even claimed to be the Son of God— look at him now— crucified between two thieves.” Even the two thieves rail at him and cast reproach upon him.

But Jesus makes no reply to their taunts.

By half past eleven o’clock most of the jesting and jeering crowd have gone their way; less than fifty remain on the scene as it nears noontime of this special preparation day. The soldiers now prepare to eat lunch and drink their cheap, sour wine as they settled down for the deathwatch. As they drink their wine, they derisively offer a toast to Jesus, saying, “Hail and good fortune! to the king of the Jews!” And they are astonished at his tolerant regard of their ridicule and mocking.

When Jesus sees them eat and drink, he looks down upon them and says, “I thirst.” When the captain of the guard hears Jesus say “I thirst,” he takes some of the wine from his bottle and, putting the saturated sponge stopper upon the end of a javelin, raises it to Jesus so that he can moisten his parched lips.

One of the brigands rails at Jesus: “If you are the Son of God, why do you not save yourself and us?” The other thief says to him, “Do you have no fear even of God? Do you not see that we are suffering justly for our deeds, but that this man suffers unjustly? Better that we should seek forgiveness for our sins and salvation for our souls.” When Jesus heard the thief say this, he turns his face toward him and smiles approvingly. When the thief sees the face of Jesus turned toward him, he musters up his courage and says, “Lord, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And then Jesus says, “Verily, verily, I say to you today, you shall sometime be with me in Paradise.”

Shortly after twelve o’clock the sky darkens from the fine sand in the air. The people of Jerusalem know this means a hot-wind sandstorm from the Arabian desert is coming. Before one o’clock the sky is so dark the sun is hidden, and the remainder of the crowd hastens back to the city. The Teacher is near death, but seems to be uttering passages from the scriptures, which one of the women says is the twentieth, twenty-first, and twenty-second Psalm, which begins with “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” This is to be one of his last utterances.

The sandstorm grows in intensity, and the heavens increasingly darken. The soldiers crouch near the cross, huddled together to protect themselves from the cutting sand. Others watch from a distance, where they are somewhat sheltered by an overhanging rock. When the Galilean, called “Master” unbidden by those who followed him, gives up his life shortly after this hour, less than thirty people are present; the thirteen Roman soldiers and a group of about fifteen apparent believers.

Just before three o’clock, Jesus, with a loud voice, cries out, “It is finished! Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” And when he had thus spoken, he bowed his head, and moved no more. When the Roman centurion saw how Jesus died, to our astonishment he smote his breast and said: “This was indeed a righteous man; truly he must have been a Son of God.”

[See the remaining extant segment from the "Daily Matzo" April 9th— Resurrection Day, "JESUS. IS. NOT. DEAD.]

THE URANTIA BOOK

God how the dead men
Grin by the wall.
Watching the fun
Of the Victory Ball.

—Alfred Noyes

John and Cindy McCain, (who was not actually there but sent a clone), looking appropriately Hasidic at the Western Wall

Michael D. Shear, WaPo wrote:

JERUSALEM — What was supposed to be a somber visit by Sen. John McCain to the Western Wall this morning was marred by an unruly mob of Israeli photographers, police and tourists who threw punches at each other as they engulfed the Republican presidential candidate.

McCain was not hurt, but appeared rattled by the spasm of violence as he began a second day of meetings with high-level Israeli officials as part of a congressional trip to the Middle East and Europe.

The crush of people surrounded McCain (Ariz.) after he and Sen. Joe Lieberman (I-Conn.) and Sen. Lindsay Graham (R-S.C.) briefly touched the towering wall at the base of the Temple Mount, where the Second Temple stood until its destruction nearly two thousand years ago. The senators placed notes in the cracks between the ancient stones, a common tradition. McCain declined through a spokesman to reveal what his note said.

We’re not going to tell you how we obtained the text of that note, suffice it to say that many Jews still consider the placing of such prayers to be desecration of the holy. McCain produced the note from his left suit coat pocket, and with a series of awkward looking jabs, he finally forced the note into a tiny crevice of the ancient wall.

Surprisingly, the note was not penned in McCain’s jerky scrawl, but appeared to be a first draft, printed off the computer in crisp, orderly, 18 point justified type. The note:

My Dear Western Wall Friends    Friend,

As you know, I’m the Republican nominee for president of the United States, and unlike my opponents Hillary Clinton, a woman, or Barack Hussein Obama, a black man, I’m ready from day one to lead the fight for what ever, for ever. But today I need your help, dear friend. (I feel like I’m talking to a wall , ha ha!) Some of my good Jewish friends say you are more than just a frakin’ stone wall venerated by a superstitious people. If this is so, I’d like you to know— not just how important it is to me that I’m the next president— but also the staggeringly huge sum of money I need to continue the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and, more importantly, to wage new wars against Syria and Iran, and probably North Korea.

Oh, remember that great song, Bomb bomb bomb, bomb bomb Iran! Well it isn’t just a great song my friend, it’s my ticket to another historic war presidency! (Nothing changes an enemy’s behavior like bombs, my friend, and lots of them; remember I’ve personally dropped my share of bombs on evil men, women, and children, and I’d like to think you’re the kind of wall that would want to support my willingness to continue this important attack against the ever present threats to our national security.)

So my friend, I’m going to need to recruit some seriously enormous amounts of young cannon fodder, in order to wage more wars in the global fight against terrorism, in order to keep my country safe from our many enemies who hate our freedom, the radical Islamist extremist terrorists, the Iranians, the North Koreans, the Syrians, and our future enemies, the Chinese commies, the Russian commies, and, well, you know, anybody that won’t see things our way.

If you could grant me this grotesque amount of blood and capital, my friend, I will ensure that the war against a world full of terrorists is fought intelligently, with endless patience and resolve, using all the toxic instruments of national power and death I can get my hands on. And I will lead this fight with the understanding that to impinge more than we already have on the rights of our own citizens, or to further restrict the freedoms for which our nation stands will be done only as necessary, because to do so is to give terrorists the victory they seek.

In closing my prayer, let me say that John McCain believes that just as America must be prepared to meet and prevail against any adversary on every field of battle, we must also engage and prevail against them on the battleground of ideas. So if you have any great ideas, please pass them along to my advisers. In so doing, we can and must deprive terrorists of the converts they seek and teach the doctrine of hatred and despair.

Your old friend in the White House,

John McCain