His followers claimed, he was the one whose arrival was written about. This caused a disturbance in the existing order. The office bearers did not like any change to the existing. They tolerated his discourse, until they thought he crossed the line. Now their survival was at peril. He had to be done away with.
The Preacher got wind of the plot. He would not succumb to threats. Camouflage himself he did. His team began to dress and appear like him with flowing robes and mane. This added to the confusion until he stood up to speak. By his words alone was he recognized.
With time, the office bearers were able to get numbers on their side, and the chase to extradite him began. They did not want him to set foot in their domain. He chose not to enter their places of worship. But did challenge them, by entering their town riding a Donkey. He did not set foot as was the extradition Order. Welcomed by surging crowds with swaying palms, was beyond their acceptance. But how would they identify him in a crowd and get him arrested by the law keepers. He had a dozen lookalikes. His team had to be torn apart. Which one of this dozen would identify the preacher?
One stood up. He would do it if compensated.
The Preacher got to know of this crossover. Until now, their places of hiding were intact. Now being caught was imminent. That night as they retreated, he partook in the meal. He told them, should he be arrested, they should continue where he had stopped, and when they gather for a meal, recall this night. ‘Do this in Memory of me’ he said.
After the meal, the Preacher and his followers withdrew into a nearby forest. This was where they hid the past week. Nobody other than this team knew of the place.
Whispers were aloud, of the arrival of the forces to arrest him. He asked those closest to stay awake as he planned next. When he turned around they were asleep causing him to rebuke them. The sounds of the opposing forces grew louder. He began to sweat and wondered if this is what it would finally come to. In his mind he gave in. He knew he could not escape as exits were sealed. His own had brought about his end…..
The Meal is now a daily ritual. In the initial days letters were sent to those at base of the travails as they preached as taught. Accounts of those closest to him read as written for others to be aware of what transpired in the writers presence. These were read, so that those present would know his teachings …..and this reading continues.