you've stood there for hours watching this scene of torture, wondering what must be going through that man's mind. he has hung on that cross most of the day, slowly dying, scanning the crowd. you're eyes have not met since he was being nailed down, but you're not sure you would want them to. sadness has filled your body, sadness is the word you use though it's more like a suffering depression.
the crowd has stopped their jeering, apparently satisfied that their wishes have been carried out. but now there is a stillness in the air, as the crowd begins to see the reality of it's mob mentality, begins to see that man suffering, nailed to the cross.
~he scans the crowd, meeting peoples eyes, but he is too weak for another connection. "i love you," is mumbled from his lips on occasion, scarcely more than a gasp of wheeze for air. his weakness has began to suffocate him, unable to hold himself up, he has been sagging, slowly squeezing his chest, lungs unable to gain the oxygen they so desperately desire. each person he looks into unknowingly increases his pain and sorrow as their hurts, sadness, guilt, offenses, are piled onto his soul.
"oh the sorrow that you feel," he thinks. "my beloved, why do you hurt so? look! look at me! i'm fixing it. it can all go away. look at me!"
he glanced to a woman in the crowd. she looked like everyone else, but he immediately saw her secrets, the things she was hiding. he saw through it all, to her deepest hurt. he wanted to rush down and hug her, tell her, "i don't care what you did with those men. i love you!" he turns to a man and sees how he cheated his neighbor out of pay. another man who killed a woman. a woman who was caught up in alcohol and could not escape.
and then he knew it was time. the most horrible feeling imaginable and then more attacked his body. enough pain, enough torment, enough sadness, guilt, sorrow, enough of all the evil and bad things in the world to kill every man, woman, and child, and it attacked him. he saw the wicked ways of men and women being destroyed by a massive flood, the terror afflicted upon families as soldiers took their baby sons and threw them in a river. the sadness of hearing your entire family is dead and all your possesions stolen. the guilt of a teenage girl telling her parents she is pregnant, the wrath handed out by an angry parent, the evil of many men trying to wipe out entire communities and cultures. he saw men and women who had not yet been born cheat and be cheated by companies, the pain they inflict on others for joy, children who have innocence taken from them, rapes, murders, thefts, and all manners of terror and evil. from emperors who would try to wipe out his legacy with gladiators and beasts to the little child who takes a pack of gum from the store. from the most evil to the most holy he sees them all. all their pain, all their guilt, all their suffering, all their sin. and all this sin is heaped upon him. in the agony he looks towards the heavens and cries for his Father. "please don't leave me!" is shouted through his mind. "i love You, and i love them."
"you are My son, and I love you." is the answer he hears. "and I love them." he looks and sees his Father staring back at him, and he sees the holiness shining from his Father's face. he feels intense shame and guilt for possessing the sins of every person in the crowd, every person who has lived and will live, the sins of the world. and it made him filthy. "Father, i love You!" "I love you son. and I love them." the wicked filth of the world is overpowering. the feelings turn to a foul smell to his nose, and a horrible taste in his mouth. every muscle and bone in his body screams in agony, and his heart can hardly beat with the pressure of it all.
the holiness of the Father's face begins to change, and anger starts to come out. the son sees the Father begin to turn, to turn His back on His own son. "Father! I love You! Why do You do this to me?" his mind screams out. but he knows it must be done. the anger becomes stronger mixed with wrath, and a ripping feeling. the feeling of having his Father's Spirit removed from him. God was turning His back on him, taking His presence from him, leaving him completely alone to feel the full wrath for the wrongs of the world.
tears stream down his face, and the Father is filled with sadness, knowing that all His wrath and anger must fall upon His own son. "I love you son, and I love them!" "i love You Father, and i love them!" and it was unleashed. there is no way to describe how this man felt. his own Father, his own being, the One who was always there to listen and help, who showed love and mercy and gave blessings, took it all away. turned away. alienated Himself from His son . . . from Himself. the saddest moment time would ever know was happening, and it was fierce.
"it is finished!" said the man, and he hung is head. and God cried out.~
the crowd was now focused on the man in the middle. you strain to hear his words, trying to understand what is going through this man's mind in his dying moments, if there was some bit of wisdom he yet might have. you hear the words, "it is finished," and saw the man's head drop. and then it felt like the world might end.
the stillness in the air was suddenly gone, filled with a horrible static, not that it could be seen but rather felt, and it felt bad. the ground began to shake and roar, like it was crying out in pain and sorrow. the black sky shows no signs of hope despite the fact that it is the middle of the afternoon. the whole world is writhing in some horrible pain and sadness. rocks around you crack and crumble. you imagine buildings in the city crumbling and crashing, and then it stills.
nearby a soldier gets back up and stares at the man on the cross, Jesus. "this man surely was God's son, just as He claimed." it hits you like bolt of lightning. it was more than you could have hoped for, the son of God told you that he loved you. it makes sense, except it doesn't. you see now his love and joy for each person, how he got into your mind. but why die? that made no sense.
you run towards the front of the crowd to find a man and women that Jesus was talking to earlier. frantically you search and finally find them. crying they listen to you tell them your experience, and they tell you to go. that it isn't safe, that the soldiers might come for you and them next. "but i need to talk to you!" you say anxiously filled with sadness. they tell you meet them at someone's house later that night. thankful you say your goodbyes and slip away, not sure who they even were. thankful that when you get a chance to talk, you hope to clear up some of the confusion that is now tormenting you.
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