CHAPTER 7
OUR DESTINY
There I stood, between Heaven and Hell, with the Son of God nailed to me like a common criminal. His whole body was shaking violently as He writhed in pain. His Blood was seeping into the deadness of what had once been a beautiful Olive Tree, but now had become an implement of His suffering and eventually His death. After all He did for me, I could do nothing for Him.
I could not bear to see Him in such pain. The Blood kept flowing from His body, running down my vertical beam and onto the ground below us. His Blood was also dripping onto the ground from the spikes that pierced His hands.
He asked for some water, instead a Soldier brought Him a sponge mixed with vinegar and gall. They mocked Him over and over again. Many hurled foul language at Him. Someone screamed out loudly, “If you are the Son of God, come down from the Cross”. The crowd cheered mockingly, “Come down, come on down from your Cross, Son of God.” Jesus made no reply, as He clung to me in great suffering and agony.
Suddenly another Roman Soldier ran up to Him and thrust a spear into His side. He cried out again in great distress. As the spear pierced His side a mixture of water and blood flowed out of His side and down onto the ground below. The Water and the Blood was also running down my vertical beam and onto the ground below us. We were both soaked in His Blood.
Jesus suddenly cried out with a loud voice, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” “Even now He calls out to God, and yet God does not seem to hear Him,” I thought. Disbelief consumed me, I could not believe that God would just ignore His cries for help. If Jesus was HIS ONLY SON, how could He allow Him to suffer so much?
I was in dismay and disbelief. I could not understand why God would allow His ONLY Son to suffer in such a manner. I thought, “If God was his Father, why, why, oh why does He not help Him?” I was beginning to wonder if God was His Father. “How could a loving God who had all power in Heaven and Earth allow His ONLY Son to suffer and die in this manner? I questioned.
If He didn’t help His Only Son, why would He help evil men? I was getting more and more confused. “Surely God could see the agony and suffering His Son was going through. There is no justice,” I thought. This man who did nothing but good has been judged, condemned and crucified by the same people to whom He showed so much love and compassion. “How could they do this to Him after all He had done for them?” I questioned.
He must have hung there for hours. His death was slow and agonizing. I knew His pain was excruciating and distressing. Yet, I understood and knew deep within me that even I could not know the depths of the pain and suffering He was experiencing.
I could tell it was getting harder and harder for Him to breathe, and I could hear Him gasping for breath. His body was shaking and convulsing violently, over and over. His chest would slowly expand as He fought for each breath of air. He was getting weaker and weaker. He was choking from the blood which was running down His forehead and into His mouth. Blood was also coming from His mouth seeping down into His beard.
Each breath He took was getting shorter and shorter. It sounded like His lungs were filling with fluid. With each breath came a loud wheeze, then a gurgling sound. I wondered how much longer He would suffer. “I want to die with Him,” I thought. “I will wait until He dies, then I will die,” I cried within me. I didn’t want to live anymore. “How could I live with myself after partaking in His Crucifixion?” I thought.
I could feel His heart pounding next to mine. It would beat very fast then would slow down to where I could not even detect a heartbeat. His pulse became very weak. I knew this because His wrist was pressed up against mine. Then His body began to shake uncontrollably again. He was going through the throes of death. “It will all be over in just a few seconds,” I thought.
Then, I heard Him say “Father into thy hands I commit my Spirit. IT IS FINISHED”. Jesus then cried out in agony with a great groan, bowed down His head and died.
“Where was the mercy,” I reasoned. I had always heard that God was a just and merciful God, but there was no mercy displayed at this horrible place, and justice seemed to be non- existent. “Can there be a God if He allowed His only Son to die this way?” I thought.
A Roman Soldier then approached us and looked up at Jesus and said “Truly this was the Son of God.” “What did he mean?” I thought. “If He was God’s Son, why did Got not come down from Heaven to help Him?” Why did God turn His face from Him and allow Him to be crucified?” I thought.
Suddenly, there was a great earthquake. The sky grew dark and fear fell upon the angry mob, and there was a great calm. There was no more cries from the crowd who had been mocking Him and crying out for Jesus to die. All I could hear was the sound of a few of His followers weeping and wailing over what they had seen. Some of them had left because they could not bear to see Jesus being humiliated and tortured any longer. It was too much for them to endure.