Author's Note: The centered text in italics is excerpted from Psalm 22. To read the whole thing (and it is beautiful), remove the spaces from www. biblegateway passage/?search=Psalm+22 or simply Google "Psalm 22."
Please, read and let me know what you think!
He takes a step closer to the cross, eyes fixed on the dying man. No one questions his right to be here; their eyes pass right over him. To them, he is just another grieving woman. He does not weep or wail though, and he does not pray.
"Jesus," he calls softly.
The dying man tenses at his voice.
"My…" he meant to say 'Lord', but the word catches in his throat. "My friend, please do not let them do this to you. You will leave your mother desolate, alone!"
The dying man opens his eyes, painfully pushes himself up to speak. "Son," he says, "behold your mother. Mother…" the word is a plea. "Behold your son."
"I will care for her," a young man promises. But the Devil knows that Christ's words were not just for John. Even now, near death, the Son of God seeks to love his enemy.
He spits the invitation into the dust. Nothing has changed; he will not serve.
He goes among the crowd instead. "If he is the Son of God, why doesn't he save himself?" he cries tearfully. "Why doesn't he end his pain?" The crowd takes up his call, some mocking, some not.
"If you are the Messiah, save yourself!"
"Show us a miracle!"
"Come down from that cross!"
Don't you see? he asks the dying man. They don't understand you. They won't appreciate your sacrifice. You have failed, Christ. Failed.
No one will remember your name.
The dying man cries out, his voice near broken with pain. "My God! My God! Why have you abandoned me?"
Yes, whispers the Devil. Despair. That's it. Go join your betrayer in Hell.
The dying man breathes his last.
And the Devil suddenly understands. The earth quakes with his scream of rage. The Scripture he'd somehow forgotten now plays inside his head.
"My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?
Why so far from my call for help,
From my cries of anguish?
My God, I call by day, but you do not answer;
By night, but I have no relief.
Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One;
You are the glory of Israel.
The curtain in the Temple tears. He can hear the High Priests cry out in fear. There is fear on the faces of the soldiers as well and one of the centurions drops to his knees.
"Truly, this man was the Son of God."
In you our ancestors trusted;
They trusted and you rescued them.
To you they cried out and they escaped;
In you they trusted and were not disappointed.
The sun has gone out.
But I am a worm, hardly human,
Scorned by everyone, despised by the people.
"You relied on the Lord – let him deliver you;
If he loves you, let him rescue you."
There, in the midst of Hell's shattered gates, stands Christ. The souls flock around him, waiting to be led to Heaven. The Devil knows them all. Job, Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Ruth, David. All those he failed to seduce.
And there, faced with all his failures, the Devil realizes his helplessness.
"Beloved," Christ says. "It is not too late."
Yet you drew me forth from the womb,
Made me safe at my mother's breast.
Upon you I was thrust from the womb;
Since birth you are my God.
Do not stay far from me,
For trouble is near,
And there is no one to help.
And for a moment, the Devil himself is tempted.
My heart has become like wax,
It melts away within me.
As dry as a potsherd is my throat;
My tongue sticks to my palate;
You lay me in the dust of death.
But nothing has changed. He will not serve.
All the ends of the earth
Will worship and turn to the Lord;
All who have gone down into the dust
Will kneel in homage.
He is left alone in the shattered gates, watching his victory slip away. He watches as Christ leads them up the narrow, winding road, watches Heaven's doors swing wide. Is abandoned as they pass into everlasting joy.
And I will live for the Lord;
My descendants will serve you.
The generation to come will be told of the Lord,
That they may proclaim to a people yet unborn
The deliverance you have brought.