“The
hill is quiet now. Not still but quiet. For the first time all day there is no
noise. The clamor began to subside when the darkness—that puzzling midday
darkness—fell. Like water douses a fire, the shadows doused the ridicule. No
more taunts. No more jokes. No more jesting. And, in time, no more mockers. One
by one the onlookers turned and began the descent.” (Max Lucado)
“That is, all the onlookers except
you and me. We did not leave. We came to learn. And so we lingered in the
semidarkness and listened. We listened to the soldiers cursing, the passersby
questioning, and the women weeping. But most of all, we listened to the trio of
dying men groaning. Hoarse, guttural, thirsty groans. They groaned with each
rolling of the head and each pivot of the legs.
But as the minutes became hours,
these groans diminished. The three seemed dead. Were it not for the belabored
breathing, you would have thought they were.
Then he screamed. As if someone had
yanked his hair, the back of his head slammed against the sign that bore his
name, and he screamed. Like a dagger cuts the curtain, his scream cut the dark.
Standing as straight as the nails would permit, he cried as one calling for a
lost friend, “Eloi!”
His voice was raspy,
scratchy. Reflections of the torch flame danced in his wide eyes. “My God!”
Ignoring the volcano
of erupting pain, he pushed upward until his shoulders were higher than his
nailed hands. “Why
have you forsaken me?”
The soldiers stared.
The weeping of the women ceased. One of the Pharisees sneered sarcastically,
‘He’s calling Elijah.’
No one laughed.
He’d shouted a question to the
heavens, and you half expected heaven to shout one in return.
And apparently it did. For the face
of Jesus softened, and an afternoon dawn broke as he spoke a final time. “It is
finished. Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”
As he gave his final
breath, the earth gave a sudden stir. A rock rolled, and a soldier stumbled.
Then, as suddenly as the silence was broken, the silence returned.
And now all is quiet.
The mocking has ceased. There is no one to mock.
The soldiers are busy with the
business of cleaning up the dead. Two men have come. Dressed well and meaning
well, they are given the body of Jesus.”
From He Chose the Nails: What God Did To Win Your Heart
Copyright (Thomas
Nelson, 2000) Max Lucado
“Now when evening had come, there came a
rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who himself had also become a disciple
of Jesus. This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then Pilate
commanded the body to be given to him.” (Matt. 27:57, 58, NKJV)
My devotional book for women in simple verse form:
http://www.amazon.com/So-You-Plan-Marry-Man/dp/0984765530/
Tomorrow’s post: JESUS’
BURIAL
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