It seems to me that in telling this story, brethren, I am doing but the work of God; no man strays very far from the work that God has decreed to him.  But in the time I am telling I was so exalted by the many miracles which I had performed by the power of God or the power of a demon, I know not which, that I encouraged my disciples to speak of me as the son of David, though I knew myself to be the son of Joseph the carpenter; and when I rode into Jerusalem and the people strewed palms before me and called out, the son of David, and Joseph said to me, let them not call thee the son of David, I answered in my pride, if they did not call it forth the stones themselves would.  In the days I am telling, pride lifted me above myself, and I went about asking who I was, Moses, Elijah, Jeremiah or the Messiah promised to the Jews.

A madman!  A madman, or possessed by some evil spirit, Paul cried out, and rising to his feet he rushed out of the cenoby, but nobody rose to detain him; some of the Essenes raised their heads, and a moment after the interruption was forgotten.

A day passed in the great exaltation and hope, and one evening I took bread and broke it, saying that I was the bread of life that came down from heaven and that whosoever ate of it had everlasting life given to him.  After saying these words a great disquiet fell upon me, and calling my disciples together I asked them to come to the garden of olives with me.  And it was while asking God’s forgiveness for my blasphemies that the emissaries and agents of the priests came and took me prisoner.

At the touch of their hands the belief that I was the Messiah promised to the Jews rose up in my heart again, and when the priests asked me if I were the Christ, the Son of the Blessed, I answered, I am, and ye shall see the son of man sitting on the right hand of God; and it was not till I was hanging on the cross for upwards of two hours that the belief I had come down from heaven to do our Father’s will faded; again much that I had said seemed to me evil and blasphemous, and feeling myself about to die I called out to my Father, who answered my call at once, bringing Joseph of Arimathea to the foot of the cross to ask the centurion for my body for burial.  But the centurion could not deliver me unto him without Pilate’s order, and both went to Pilate, and he gave me to Joseph for burial.

Nor did our Father allow the swoon to be lifted till Joseph entered the tomb to kiss me for the last time.  It was then he opened my eyes and I saw Joseph standing by me, a lantern in his hand, looking at me ... for the last time before closing the tomb.