Written on Good Friday. 22nd April 2011
I don’t know at what point I gave up. I don’t know at what point it became unbearable or at what point the pains turned to numbness. All I knew was that when they lashed me for the 31st time, I felt my tendons tear under my skin. When they put that thorny crown on my head, my grey matter practically burst out of its place. When they spat on me, jeered at me, mocked me and beat me to pulp, it was much more than my pride that was hurt. All I knew was that when they hit those huge nails straight into my beautiful God hands, I knew I wasn’t going to take much more. The pains were maddening, the hurt was piercing and the shame was so degrading.
So as I hung there, helpless and beaten on the cross. I realized that I didn’t have to take this. It came to me suddenly like a brain wave. It was just as if a bulb was switched on in my head. What was all this? What was I doing? How was I going to sit here – uhm, not exactly – hang here and take crap from all these humans? How can I let myself be humiliated like this? I looked down and saw the people laughing, taunting and making jokes about me… ME! The soldiers were busy playing games with my clothes. What was that! Then one of them came to me with a drink,
‘Here.’ He said. At least here was someone with a little respect. I opened my mouth and I drank. !@#$%^&@$%$!!! I went berserk, as in I totally lost it
‘NO!’ I spat. ‘ENOUGH! IT’S ENOUGH!’ I screamed at the top of my voice, ‘Take it away! I’m not interested, I can’t do it anymore!’ I was screaming so loud the rumbling thunder was no match for my voice. The people cowered. My nails fell off and I fell down from the cross.
Naked, I stood. The masses were scared and confused. The soldier’s summoned courage and tried to seize me again, but all of a sudden there was a bright light from above and that was the last thing that they saw. I looked up. I saw them and I smiled. As efficient as ever, over twelve of them came charging with Michael in front. The people were dazed. Dumbfounded, they just stood and watched. The angels had come down, all my wounds had vanished, my body was restored and my divinity also. I was clothed once again in my robes of majesty. Now this was how it was meant to be… I looked up…
‘I’m sorry father, but I don’t think I can give my life for these mortals who don’t even know squat about the good I was about to do them.’ The people were saying to themselves:
‘It is he. It is truly he. It is truly the messiah.’ They bowed on their knees and rent their clothes.
‘It is he!’ ‘It is truly he… save us Christ! Save Us!’
But it was too late. I was already ascending. Higher and higher I went. Past Golgotha, past the holy temple with its beautiful coloured curtains, past the sea of Tiberias, past the upper room, past the whole of Israel… the whole multitude of people who looked on as I left them forever. Who cared what became of them, who cared if they died. Who cared if they remained hostage to the devil forever? Who cared if sin totally destroyed them? Who cared if their lives will never know joy and everlasting peace?
Not me…. Not anymore…