Thursday, October 8, 2009

Someone in the Crowd

When you asked as you were dying

Father forgive them, they know not what they do

While you were taunted by passers-by and chief priests and scribes and elders and even a bandit crucified with you
Someone in the crowd was listening and was forgiven

When you cried out as you were dying

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me

While they ridiculed you and called you a madman, “For did he not say ‘I am God’s son?’”
Someone in the crowd knew the difference between a desperate cry for help and a declaration of abandonment

When you said as you were dying

Father, into your hands I commend my spirit

While the cynical commented “He has put his trust in God; now let God rescue him if he wants him”
Someone in the crowd understood that Jesus’ trust was not misplaced

When you spoke as you were dying, hanging there under that cruel sign, JESUS—KING OF THE JEWS,

I am thirsty

Someone in the crowd put a sponge soaked in sour wine on a hyssop stick and held it up to your mouth

When you knew as you were dying, that you had finished the course, that you had kept the faith
It wasn’t only the centurion who struggled to understand what it meant when you whispered

It is fulfilled
It is finished

Someone in every second of every minute of every hour of every year of every century since that day has made the transition from fearing God to loving Him because you loved us. Someone has always understood the ironic, terrible, glorious, eternal truth spoken by those who mocked you.

He saved others; himself he could not save


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