Cross Bearer

"Come along now sons, we must get to Jerusalem early enough to sacrifice," I said to my children. If we get there too late we will have to wait a very long time. We walk on getting closer to Jerusalem as the sun begins to shine down brightly. What I see and hear when I come into Jerusalem is something I will never forget. The sounds of joy and praise that I normally hear this time of year is absent. What I hear is shouting by people saying, "Crucify him!" In my mind I wonder what has happened. I make my way through the crowd to try and see what is going on. I see people shouting at and cursing this creature who carries a cross. He seems to have the form of a man, but does not look like man. I wait patiently with my sons at my side to see what exactly this creature really is.

As they get closer, I realize that it isn't some creature, but is in fact a man carrying a cross upon his back. He is completely covered in blood from head to toe, and I would think not even his own mother would recognize him. He has a crown of thorns on his head that was pushed down so hard that the thorns pierced his into his skull. His chest and side were covered completely with stripes from being whipped. Pieces of flesh hangs from his back. My heart leaps into my throat and I can barely even breath. I think to myself, "Who would do this to another human being? Who would be so cruel to beat a man like this? Even a thief should not be beaten this badly." I want to turn my eyes away but something compels me to keep watching.

The man falls down as he gets nearer to me and the soldiers curse him and hit him with sticks telling him to get up. They say to him, "Save yourself, Jesus, king of the Jews. Others you could save, but you cannot save yourself! You that is King of the Jews!" They laugh at him as he struggles back up to his feet. Others hit him and laughingly say, "Prophesy who hit you!" Then they would laugh with one another. They would pull at his beard and pull out not only hair, but they pulled the flesh from his face. I have heard about this man Jesus who went about only doing good. At this point I am ashamed to even be called a part of the human race. I hang my head low and cry for this man. I ask God, "How can you let this happen? Aren't we a civilized people? Aren't we your chosen people?"

Jesus falls right in front of me, the cross beating down hard upon his back. I am confused about what to do, and I think about running away from this spectacle. Suddenly, a soldier grabs my arm and commands me to pick up this man's cross and carry it for him. I say, "NO! I refuse to be a part of this! This man has done nothing wrong and you treat him like a criminal!" The soldier draws his sword and points it at me. I concede and go to the man. I look at him with sorrow in my heart. I help him up to his feet and pick up his cross. I put one arm around behind him to help him to walk and the other hand I use to hold onto the cross. The blood, that this man has shed, runs down my face. Tears come to my eyes as we walk further and further, the man stumbling most of the way. I think to myself, "How can he keep going? Why is he even still able to walk? Why doesn't he just give up and let them kill him here and now?"

I feel something that I have never felt before as we walk up the hill. Jesus looks at me with eyes that can pierce my soul, yet so full of love and compassion. I wonder is love is what drives this man to complete his journey. We get to the top of Golgotha hill and I set the cross down. People are still shouting and laughing at him. They still curse him as he falls to the ground from exhaustion and blood loss. I look around at all the people that followed us up the hill. They all smile and laugh mockingly at this man. I see no sense of compassion in any of them. I realize that Jesus' blood covers me almost completely. May face and hands are covered with his blood as are my clothes also. The soldiers push me away from Jesus and I blend back into the crowd.

As the soldiers nail Jesus to the cross through his feet and his hands, I hear someone crying almost silently. I look around to see who it is and it is a woman who must be the Jesus' mother. You could tell by her face that she has been crying for a very long time. There was a younger woman standing beside her with her eyes also full of tears. The hurt in their eyes was almost unbearable to see. The soldiers nail a plaque on the top of the cross that states, "This is the King of the Jews."

As they raised the cross, I noticed two others on crosses. One on the Jesus' left and one on his right. I still hear the words of one of them even to this day; "If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself and us also." The other man says, "Do you not fear God? We deserve to be here condemned to death because of our deeds. This man between us has done nothing wrong." To Jesus he says, "Lord, remember me when you come into your kingdom." Jesus says to him, "I surely say to you, this day you will be with me in paradise." I still have no idea what is really going on but I feel sorrow deep in my heart once again. Like before, I want to turn away, but something compels me to watch this through to the end.

Someone offers Jesus a drink and he refuses it. I cant help but wonder why he is still alive. The people still mock him as his blood runs down to the ground. Time seems almost to stand still. The long wait wears on my nerves. I hear Jesus say, "Father forgive them, for they know not what they do! Father, into your hands I commend my spirit," and then he dies. Darkness suddenly comes upon the land and there is an earthquake, as we stand there watching and waiting. One of the soldiers took his spear and thrusted it into the side of Jesus. Blood and water poured out upon the ground. Some of the soldiers go to the thief on the left and break his legs. They look at Jesus and realize that he is already dead. They go to the thief on the right and break his legs also. I stand there in shock watching all of this unfold. My sons have been with me all the time and I haven't noticed them. The oldest one tugs on the sleeve of my robe and asks me what has happened here. I tell him that this man Jesus was killed unjustly. I told him that this man did nothing but good to all people, but they hated him so much that they killed him. I told him that this man is the Son of God and that he came to save us from our sins. I bow my head and pray asking God to forgive me for my part in this.

My thoughts go back to the time when we first entered the city. Bringing a lamb for the yearly sacrifice. Something inside me tells me that the need for a sacrifice has been met, and there will be no need for anymore sacrifices. I silently thank God for His love and kindness towards me. There is no greater blessing for any man to receive.