Jude and Timothy were on their way to Jerusalem for the Feast of Pentecost. As they sat at Jacob’s Well, a popular pilgrim hangout, Jude saw a group of Essenes and asked, “I wonder what happened to his disciples?”

“Whose disciples?” asked Timothy.

“Jesus of Nazareth. It’s been over forty days and I’ve heard rumors everywhere that he’s alive, but where are the men and women who were with him?”

“I don’t know. Hiding from the chief priests I guess. After what they did to him, who could blame them? You know, it was the chief priests who gave him to the Romans. I saw the whole thing.”

“What? You were there when he died?”

“Yes.”

Both men tried not to appear anxious. Finally, Jude spoke. “Have you heard ... he’s alive?”
Again, silence. Both men were reluctant to say anything more for fear the other would suspect he was a disciple. (The chief priests had many spies.) Just then, they heard the sound of a camel driver and looked up to see a caravan winding its way down the hill.

After staring at the sight for a minute, Jude spoke. “A man in Bethel told me over 500 people saw him alive, and they’re apparently telling everyone because I heard the same story in Jericho and Samaria. Do you think these people are making it up?”

More silence. Timothy chose his words carefully. “I think they believe they saw him. What do you think?”

“I don’t know.”