Book One: The Last Seder of James

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The Last Seder of James: A Journey Through Passover represents a unique blend of historical fiction and educational non-fiction. Taken as a whole, The Last Seder of James provides an insightful perspective on the centrality of the Jewish festival of Passover to the Messianic (Christian) faith tradition.

Church tradition holds that James (Ya’akov, the brother of Yeshua) was martyred during Passover in the year AD 62, by being thrown from the top of the Temple, and subsequently stoned. The book begins as a novella, featuring an imaginative exploration of this episode in the early days of the faith. The premise supposes that John (Yochanon the Apostle) travels from his home in Ephesus to visit James on the final night of his life, and brings a Seder with him so they can celebrate Passover together.

As they progress through the order of the meal, various elements evoke memories of Jesus’ childhood (in the case of James) and his ministry (in the case of John.) In the process, the two men struggle to deal with issues in their past, and allow the Spirit to prepare their hearts for things to come. Following the story is an enlightening look at the Exodus-Passover narrative—its historical and spiritual roots, and its contribution to the heart of the Messianic faith. Detailed lists of important Hebrew terms and key Scriptures are followed by insights about the significance of the Seder celebration. At the end, resources for further study and connection are provided.

Please enjoy these “voice-over excerpts” performed by voice actor Andy Barnett:

Spoiler-Free Snippets from the Book

“A dagger? Two daggers! Hands on your head!” A Roman soldier barked his orders, and screams erupted on every side. The leader of the group—the man with two daggers—looked frantically to his brothers, but they had all recoiled at the critical moment. Three guards disrobed him and threw him to the ground, then pinned him there with a foot on his neck. The nine other men were summarily stripped to their tunics and beaten, while the leader was kicked and jabbed mercilessly.

As the blood began to flow down the slope toward our feet, the beatings were replaced with elaborate curses in Latin, then more rudimentary curses in Aramaic. The soldiers confiscated over a dozen daggers and a pair of swords, then turned around and brandished them at the necks of the hapless revolutionaries.

Soon the appalling scene grew quiet. The only sound that remained was that of women and children weeping. Then I saw the leader wrestle one hand free, place it on his head and pull it away soaked in blood. His face contorted with rage and he inhaled through gritted teeth.

“Death to Rome!” the Zealot screamed. And in the blink of an eye Rome brought death to the Zealot. Impaled through the heart with his own blade. He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword.  

Everyone saw it. That was the point.

More soldiers arrived at the gate to drag the offenders away, and we were up next.

……………………………..

“Did you bring my mother?”

“James—”

A hacking cough echoed against the barren walls, followed by a distant barrage of curses. It was hard to think. The cough escalated, as did the epithets, until a thump and a crunch restored a type of peace to the subterranean tangle of holding cells.

“Your mother died in Ephesus, years ago.” the voice in the doorway said.

A thick silence ensued while James stared at his wringing hands. He could feel the prison grit covering his skin, but could barely see it in the near-darkness of his cell. By the dim light of the torch in the stone corridor he could just make out the silhouette of John son of Zebedee standing in the aperture. He groaned painfully before speaking again.

“I know.”         

……………………………

“Bitter and sweet, together? Sounds about right. It might even taste good,” James quipped darkly.

John ignored him and began the traditional blessing, normally given by the woman of the house. “Blessed are you, Adonai our God, King of the Universe…” he chanted at a whisper as he lit the candle before him and twisted it into a crack in the floor. He covered his face with his hands and completed the blessing. “…who sanctifies us with his commandments, and allows us to kindle the Passover lights—light. May it remind us of Jesus our Messiah, the Light of the World.”

The effect was dim, but substantial. They could now see clearly before them the makings of a Passover Seder, arranged in orderly fashion. It struck James that this was to be his last meal. So like the final supper of his Messiah. And yet, so different.

“Would you bless the first cup, James?”

“You can do it.”

John poured a careful amount of wine from the skin into the gleaming silver cup. “With this, the cup of Sanctification, we remember God’s promise: ‘I will bring you out from under the burden of the Egyptians.’” James groaned softly and glanced around him, wondering if God might have anything similar in mind for his own situation.

……………………………

 “We all arrived before Jesus that evening, and started to bicker about who should serve. The last one appointed? That was Judas, but he was too important. The youngest? That was me, but I was part of Jesus’ inner circle, so it didn’t seem fair (to think of how wicked I was.)

“At the height of our debate Jesus came in, carrying the lamb he had just selected from the marketplace, and had taken to the Temple to be sacrificed. He had spent hours selecting it, just like you say his father used to do, but this one had a freckle on its ear. We all saw it. We had the money, why didn’t he choose a perfect one? But things were about to get much stranger than that.”

……………………………

The high priest was angry. The crowd was shouting. The guard removed his sword from the prisoner’s back and pressed it to his neck. James held up his hands. “Please! Please! My brothers! Listen to me. This Jesus has divided us. He has not brought peace to the Land—as we believed the Messiah should—but a sword! See for yourself.” The roar quieted to a murmur.

“This dispute can be settled, and our people reunited, with one simple question: Where is Jesus now?” The people nodded. “Was his body laid in another tomb? Was it burned and scattered to the four winds? None of these, I tell you. He is not laid prostrate in a tomb in Jerusalem or contained in an ossuary in Galilee. I tell you this instead: Jesus is seated in the heavens at the right hand of Adonai—our Passover Lamb forever!”

Ananus gnashed his teeth but remained still. Suddenly, the white bearded man appeared, standing atop the wall off to the right of John. Then half a dozen figures in black robes emerged from where the man was standing, running toward James along the top of the wall. Leaders of the Pharisees!

……………………………

After some time, John raised himself up, dried his face, grabbed his tunic at the neck with both hands, and ripped it down the middle. Top to bottom.

The rain began to fall, and he heard the crowds rushing to take cover in the Temple porticoes. As the drops worked their way into his clothes and hair, John felt his heart being steadied by the Spirit. The ringing sound subsided as the physical shock began to wane. Gradually a new sound came to his ears from the Temple gates above. At first it was muddled, but as he tuned his hearing to it, the words became clear.

“Hosanna to the Son of David! Save us, Son of David! Hosanna to the Son of David! Save us, Son of David!” Fresh tears emerged on John’s face and mingled with the rain. He heard the chant repeated over and over, growing to a roar that echoed in the valley and shook the hills.

John stood up and wrapped his robe around his shredded tunic, hugging his chest and listening with his entire body.The words of Isaiah came bubbling up from his soul, and flowed like a fountain from his lips, “In my Temple and within my walls, I will give them a name better than sons and daughters. I will give them an everlasting name that will not be cut off.”

An everlasting name. The name of Jesus.

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