I followed Jesus as he went to the synagogue Friday evening. It was a beautiful night. The pharisees went through the street dressed in their long robes with long blue fringes, wide leather boxes with texts from the Torah within them.

Some had trumpets. They would blow them to announce that an act of charity was about to begin. The religious men would toss their coins into the air with a pious smile as the poor ran to gather them, crawling along the ground like birds pecking at grain.

Jesus himself watched them, his face a rigid mask.

This was my opportunity to tempt him. I glided near to him, floating just over his shoulder, and whispered. "Surely, if anyone is worth smiting, it's these, my Lord."

Jesus' gaze hardened and he continued walking, wrapping his arms about himself and concealing the patches in his own clothing.

"Such beatific smiles. Do you see? Wouldn't those look good on their corpses? A word from you and their flesh would wither and swarm with corruption. Picture them as lepers, ringing bells instead of blowing trumpets."

At this Jesus stopped and shook. I could tell I was getting to him.

One of the wealthier pharisees had a cart drawn by a donkey from which he gathered coins, bits of clothing, and small bags of food. He had servants to blow the trumpets, gentiles who wore silks. One poor man with open sores on his back was fishing coins out of the mud when the wheel of the cart rolled over his fingers.

How he could he be so unaware? Then I noticed. He was blind. As the man sat in the mud, screaming, the pharisee did not look back.

"Surely that one, at least, deserves your wrath. Imagine him wailing in the heart of sheol, thirsting, naked, and in pain."

Jesus closed his eyes. "Enough, my friend," he said in a soft voice.

At once, I found myself unable to speak. It was a startling thing on many levels--first, because I hadn't felt the power go out from him. Wasn't I, as a spiritual being, able to see such things? But this time, all I knew was that I could no longer communicate. Second, he'd called me "friend." Until that moment, I'd not known he was even aware of me. I mean, obviously, I could not hide from those pale eyes, but I thought he was limiting himself to human senses.

And finally, there was the word "friend" itself. Surely, he knew I was his enemy?

Jesus reached out and took the poor man's good hand and helped him to his feet. "Levi, let me see," Jesus said.

Carefully, Jesus stretched out the man's fingers. I watched as, this time, I saw the power rush out from him. Two small fractures were healed.

"Looks like there was no damage done," Jesus said. "You were lucky."

Jesus stooped and picked up a few coins that were scattered nearby and placed them in the man's hand. "Come. I'll lead you to the synagogue."

The two walked together into the synagoge. I followed. I didn't particularly like buildings of worship, but they held no particular repulsive power in themselves.

I watched as the ceremonies unfolded, the prayers, the bowing motions of the participants, the chants. At one point, one of the pharisees, the one who'd owned the cart stood. In a loud voice he said, "Lord, I thank you that I'm not like this man," he gestured to his right. "A sinner and a tax collector."

With a smile, I noticed the fists that Jesus made. No power went out from him though.

When the scrolls were brought forth with reverence, I was surprised to hear the rabbi call Jesus' name to do the reading. I mean, it wasn't a total shock. They all took turns doing their readings. Still, there were a lot of young men present.

When he went up, the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was handed to him. Unrolling it, he scanned down the scroll as if looking for something. A few seconds later, he read in a loud, clear voice.

The Spirit of the Lord is on me,

because he has anointed me

to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners

and recovery of sight for the blind,

to set the oppressed free,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.â€

After reading this brief passage, he passed the scroll back to the attendant and sat. The brevity of his reading alone was startling. Everyone watched him.

"Today," he said. "These words are fulfilled in your hearing."

"Isn't this Joseph's son?" someone asked. "What does he mean by saying the words are fulfilled?"

Another answered, "Surely, he means the time of the Messiah is near. Let's listen to what else he says."

I looked over and saw Levi sitting by the entrance to the synagoge. He held his hands before his face, turning them as if looking at them. He was blinking furiously and weeping silently. Could he see? I'd felt no power rush forth from Jesus.

Jesus said to them, "Perhaps you will quote this proverb to me: 'Physician, heal yourself!' And some of you will say, ‘Do here in your hometown what we have heard that you did in Capernaum.'"

Again, I chided myself for not following Jesus to Capernaum. I'd been busy with Herod and Mikal's brother. Apparently, he'd healed many people.

"Truly, truly I say you," he continued, "no prophet is accepted in his hometown. There were many widows in Israel in Elijah's day. Though the sky was shut for three and a half years and there was a terrible famine, Elijah was not sent only to a widow in Zarephath in the region of Sidon. And there were many in Israel with leprosy then, but only one of them was cleansed: Naaman the Syrian."

At this shouts of anger arose.

At the same time, I felt the power which had silenced me lift. It was an odd thing--I'd not noticed it when Jesus asked me to be quiet, but I could tell that I was gone.

I rushed about the room, whispering. "He's insulting you," I said. "You want to see the Messiah, but he is saying the Messiah will come to the gentiles before you."

To another I said. "How dare he teach with such authority. It is blasphemous!"

Never have I found a more willing crowd. My words were like fire upon oil-soaked cloth, kindling and burning at once into a steady flame.

They shouted. Someone threw a rock, and Jesus was forced from the synagoge before a mob.

There was a cliff nearby, and with eagerness I encouraged them to drive Jesus in that direction. Let the crowd throw him down. It would be like the temptation I'd offered him at our first meeting. The angels would come and Jesus' glory would be revealed.

A part of me longed to see it. I can't say why, as I knew it would be my destruction. Still, I sympathized with this person who, despite his power, had lived in poverty and obscurity for thirty years.

As we got closer to the cliff, I flew close to Jesus and whispered, "Let them do it. Let them see who you are."

At once, though, Jesus waved his hand. Power went out from him like a wave of thunder, washing through the crowd. They became still, as if frozen. The world itself became silent. Not even the wind blew.

Silently, Jesus walked through them.

"Why did you ruin it?" I said.

"I'm not here for my own glory."

"Then why are you here? And why am I here for that matter? Why haven't you destroyed me?" Possibly, it wasn't the smartest question I could have asked, but I had to know.

Again, I wasn't sure whether he could hear me at all, so I didn't expect an answer.

"You wouldn't understand," he said.

And so I let him go. I just stood there. I wouldn't understand? Me? I was a fallen angel with powers, intelligence, and wisdom beyond any mortal. If I couldn't understand, who could?

Eventually, as Jesus followed the road to the end and disappeared, the stillness lifted. Many asked where Jesus had gone. I hovered there in the midst of them, staring at the end of the road.

Of all the puzzles and mysteries surrounding Jesus, one returned to me. He'd called me "friend."

A voice nearby said. "Surely, you can't really see, Levi. Healing the blind is a power reserved for the Messiah and not this arrogant boy."

"No," Levi said. "For a moment I thought I could, but it must have been my imagination."

Upon hearing this, I focused my attention on Levi. Indeed, he could no longer see.

In a way, I felt like him. At moments, Jesus almost made sense. Somehow, though, after every encounter with him, I felt more in the dark than before.