Month: June 2016

The Last Journey

As he carried the cross to face impending death, the dust raised by his shuffling footsteps clung tenaciously to his aching muscles, raw flesh exposed by the 39 lashes dripped blood mingling with his sweat and grime from the unpaved street.  His shoulders hunched, head bent, he was determined to make it to Golgotha.  His strength was failing, sheer exhaustion had crept into every fiber of his being. He had endured pain unimaginable within the last 24 hours. He knew this was the reason He was born. Chosen to be a sacrifice for the sins of the whole world.

He yearned for a drop of water to soothe his parched throat.  He stumbled, he heard gasps of pity from the sidelines, breaking the sound of the marching crowd behind Him.

“No, don’t feel sorry for me,” he mumbled.  “Feel sorry for yourselves. You don’t know what you are doing, yet the day is drawing near when the whole world will hear of this journey. The journey that I am willing to take because of my love for you.  You are special.  I don’t want to see you heading to eternal damnation and everlasting fires of hell.  No I want to give you life.”

Thoughts ran into each other, “This is my last journey on this earth. I have to make it.”

He was not going to let his Father down.

“Father,” he whispered, “strengthen me.” Determination caused Him to get a better grip on the heavy cross.  He focused on the eternal plan.  Saving humanity.  “Its worth it.  Its all worth it”! he whispered.  Every one of them! and the ones yet to be born!  its all worth it! to see them all in my fathers house! I am going to prepare a place for each of them and no one can snatch them from my hand!”

No words of anguish, escaped his lips, he shuffled along in silence.  Once or twice he glanced at the crowds on either side, catching an anxious face in his blurred vision.  He attempted to  smile, which quickly turned into a grimace of pain. His facial muscles stretched causing pain that he wasn’t aware of until then.  His beard had been plucked, leaving in its wake exposed skin, that stung in the cool breeze.

“I love you, each and everyone of you.” his eyes conveyed his feelings.

“My love for you is eternal. Choose to follow me, and what I have taught. I am the way, the truth and the life, no one comes to the Father except through me. Accept my love.  This life is temporal but there is eternity waiting for each of you.  You have to choose wisely.”

His thoughts were interrupted by a rude shove from one of the Roman guards at his side.  He knew his strength was failing, the cross was becoming heavier, his knees bent, he tried to continue, he stumbled and fell, his bleeding hands scraped the sand, his knees buckling under him, he felt the cross, crushing his shoulder bone. How much further he wondered.

“I am tired, so tired, but I must endure!” every inch hurt.

“Where are my friends?, isn’t there anyone close by, who would extend a hand to me, give me a drop of water to cool my parched throat? Where are they?”

He glanced around painfully, turning his head. His vision obscured by tears and sweat, he felt cold.  The noise of the crowd dimmed.  Was he dying.

“No not yet, now is not the time.  I have to stay alert.  I have to make it.”

He willed himself to focus.

“Father help me.” a desperate plea escaped His lips.

“Where are you?”  His spirit cried in anguish within him.

“Why have you forsaken me Father?”  He questioned.

“I need you, help me.”  The guards impatient with the slow progress of their prisoner, looked around for someone to help him carry his cross.  Their cruel hands fell on Simon,

“You, come here, pick up this cross, times running out.”

The guards were longing to go home and enjoy a hot meal, after the grueling day.  They wanted to finish the task at hand.  He felt sturdy hands helping him to his feet.   The heavy load was lifted. The scorching sun blinded him, he shook his head, trying to clear his vision and lingering faintness.

He was on his feet, they had reached the bottom of the hill, called the place of the skull.  “A little more, a little more,”he whispered.  “I can make it. I have to. He sustains me, the spirit of the Lord is with me.  I am the Son of the most high God, Yhwh is his name.”

His heart lifted. He mumbled psalms under his breath.  He felt an inner peace washing over him. Dulling his senses.  The crowd drew nearer and nearer forming a tight circle around him.  He stood there as best  He could. Brutally maimed, His hair tangled, hands raw and bleeding, His back an array of cris cross marks where  the cruel whip had torn his flesh, in some places the white of his bones could be seen through the torn robe. Journeys end was imminent.

A guard stripped him of his robe, the one his mother had lovingly made.  He glanced around, not wanting his mother to see him like this.  “Please spare her this pain, Father.  Give her the strength to go through the next few hours.” he whispered.

The garment was tossed aside, the cross lay at his feet.  Two guards  quickly placed him on the ground.  Large nails were placed closeby.  He closed his eyes.

“I can’t endure this Father.  The pain is too much.  Strengthen me.”

He felt the first jarring stab of pain, as the point of the nail pierced his hand.  A numbness took over. His other hand was nailed too.  A dribble of watery blood escaped the holes.  His feet were placed one on top of the other and he knew this was going to be the worst.  He braced himself for the first blow from the hammer.  He gritted his teeth in agony. He felt the nail tearing through his sinews, securing his feet to the wood.  “How much longer Father.”  Tears of pain, pooled at the corner of his eyes.  Yet he uttered not a word.  He kept reciting scriptures under his breath. An inscription nailed above his head read “INRI” a Latin word ‘Iesus Nazarenus, Rex Iudaeorum’ – ‘Jesus of Nazareth, King of Judaea’ (the land of the Jews).

Two robbers hung on either side of him.  The soldiers gambled for his clothing. The crowd taunted him, “if you are truly the son of God, save yourself and come down from the cross.”

Scripture was being fulfilled, he remembered the words of the Psalmist

Everyone who sees me mocks me. They sneer and shake their heads, saying,
“Is this the one who relies on the Lord?  Then let the Lord save him!
If the Lord loves him so much, let the Lord rescue him!”

He felt a chill, looking up he saw dark storm clouds obscuring the bright day. He felt distanced from His Father. Alone.

“The Lord bless you and keep you the Lord make his face to shine upon you,….”   He saw his mother right at the front.  Her face contorted with an anguish he longed to comfort.  She was weeping uncontrollably.

“John,  his voice was soft, He tried again with effort, “John, today she has become your mother, take her and look after her.”

He felt her agony. He felt her pain. He wished he could have spared her the pain. Yet he knew His father had prepared her heart for this day.  She was strong.  His mother, Oh yes she was.  He smiled through his tears. “I love you.  Don’t be afraid.”

He willed her to be strong.  “Hold on Mother, You and I are going to be together soon.  This is only temporary.  Remember?”

He looked up, “Father, forgive these your children, they don’t know what they are doing.   he cried.

One of the guards dipped a sponge in vinegar and offered it to him. He turned his head. He longed for the end, to ease the pain.

“My God My God why have you forsaken me,” He cried.

Each breath caused excruciating pain.   He arched his back, he felt his body stretching, as if pulled by invisible hands, in two different directions. His body was one mass of sheer torture.  Each agonizing breath drew him to the end of his journey.  With his last breath he cried,

“Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”

It was finally over.

Jesus’ last journey on earth.