The beating had been unimaginable.
The walk up Via Dolorosa had been long, and hot, and exhausting.
In His mortal body, Jesus had nothing left.
The ugly tree lay on the slope of the hill. Its base stretched toward the road below. Its crossbar reaching out like arms receiving a loved one.
Placing one foot behind Jesus' heel and a shoulder into his chest, the Roman gave a mighty shove.
Jesus collapsed onto the splinter-filled cross.
Seven of the eight guards manipulated Him into position and held him there.
There was no resistance.
Jesus had no strength left for that.
As one guard held the wretched man's arm against one crossbar, another placed the spike and raised the heavy mallet.
Michael looked back at the Father and pleaded, "I have a legion with me right now. Over ten thousand in number. We can go at your bidding and put a stop to this maddness. Please."
The Father's response was in that voice that did not invite argument.
"No. Stay where you are."
The mallet came down with force enough to drive the spike into the beam behind the hand.
The sound reverberated past Michael, surrounding the entire legion and echoing with deafening intensity in all of Heaven.
Lucifer chuckled in that hideous way he had.
Jesus, unable to muster the energy to do more, exhaled over His vocal chords with the sound of death.
The other arm.
The other crossbar.
Another swing of the mallet.
Heaven shook.
Michael turned away.
The Father looked on.
Lucifer snorted.
Now the feet were placed on their rest and crossed so that only one spike would be needed.
Once more the mallet.
Heaven's thunder roared.
Where there were no tears, Michael cried.
Still the Father did not move.
Lucifer hissed, "Yessssss!"
The eight men had no trouble lifting the tree and its occupant to the vertical.
They placed it over the prepared hole and dropped it in.
It bottomed out with a jolt.
Michael cried out with a loud voice.
The Father watched intently.
Lucifer almost danced with glee.
Jesus' body sagged at the sudden weight now pulling down on His hands and chest.
His breath left Him.
When he could stand it no longer, he pushed against the footrest and raised his chest high enough to take in some air.
It was a gasp.
Then He spoke.
It was directly to God.
"Father, forgive them. They know not what they do."
Once again His body failed Him and He drooped.
One of the two being crucified next to Jesus that day, both convicted theives, looked over at the stuggling man and managed between his teeth, "If you are really the Messiah, save yourself, and us, too."
"Hey!" strained the other, "Leave him alone! Can't you see? We are getting what we deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong!"
With all he had left in that breath, he said to Jesus, "Please, remember me when you come into your kingdom."
Jesus had pulled Himself up once again."Believe me when I tell you this: today you will be with me in Paradise."
And then He slumped back down.
As he looked down He saw His mother in the crowd with the ever faithful John.
Struggling up to speak, "Blessed woman, look. He is now your son."
Collapse.
Pushing up, "Son, she will be your mother now."
The sun was bright and hot.
"I'm thirsty." It was all He could do this time.
A guard took a sponge and soaked it in sour wine vinegar.
He raised it to Jesus' lips.
Jesus recoiled.
Michael wept openly.
The Father had an expression never seen from eternity to eternity.
Now He looked no more.
He turned His back on Jesus.
The sky darkened with the breath of sin.
This time, as Jesus drew up to breathe, He could smell the eternal stinch of evil in the air.
"My God!"
Another breath of iniquity.
"My...GOD!"
Once more.
"WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?"
Michael withdrew. He could take it no longer.
The Father could not look upon sin, and so, kept His back to Jesus.
Lucifer, vomiting out the words, was beside himself with excitement, "We're winning! Im winning!"
Jesus summoned all the strength left in His ravaged body.
"Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit."
The sound filled the countryside. The corridors of Heaven shook under its pressure.
"IT"
"IS"
"F..I..N..I..S..H..E..D!"
His head dropped.
The Spirit left Him.
Lucifer sat down.
His eyes wide. His evil heart pounding.
The smell of awful victory was in the air.
Lucifer cried out, "It is time for a celebration!"
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7 comments:
Happy Easter
Happy Easter Joe...
How wrong Lucifer was.
Joe - You wrote that didn't you. I 've never heard it put quite that way.
In the Passion of the Christ, the one scene that got me the most was when Jesus was lying on the ground and He reached over, trying to get to the Cross, showing His willingness to die.
bluepitbull: You, too, my friend.
TAO: And you
Shoprat: Wait 'till you see tomorrow's & Sunday's posts.
Sue: Yes, I did, thank you for noticing. I have written sequals for tomorrow and Sunday.
I thought you had written it. Beautiful and terrible all at once. I will read the next and the next.
Thank you, Joe..so powerful.xxx well done..
Lucifer...shoprat's SO right.
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