Chapter Four

Before Pilate

Continued

And then mercifully. . . Blessedly. . . God seemed to hear her cry.

One final, violent stroke was brought down on Jesus's shoulders, then the flagellum was pulled free from his back and set aside. Shuddering with soft sobs, Kat brought herself to look up. Her eyes grew wide and filled quickly as she beheld her lord.

There was no skin on Jesus's back. Layer by layer, it had skillfully been taken off until the muscle hung in shreds over exposed bones.

"Jesus. . . Oh Jesus. . ." Kat whispered through her blinding tears. She reached out her arms towards him, crying out to be held in his arms.

As the Romans untied him and lifted him to his feet, Christ looked back to her. His gentle eyes, so beautiful brown, were filled with pain. Kat couldn't bear it, she leapt up and tried to run to him.

"No Kat," her guardian caught her shoulder. "No."

The fight left her, and she sank back to the floor, having no choice but to be a passive witness.

One of the soldiers threw a purple cloak around Jesus's torn and bleeding shoulders, while another wove a crown out of long thorns and placed it on the his head. They placed a reed in his hand, and then mocked him.

One bowed low to the floor, leering. "All hail, King of the Jews."

The others laughed as another took the reed from Jesus's hand and struck him about the head. The long, sharp thorns dug deeper into the scalp's tender flesh. Blood welled and flowed down Jesus's face like tears.

Jesus watched his tormenters, with pity and with great love.

Kat frantically turned to her guardian. "Can't you do anything?" She pleaded, taking hold of his robe. "Please? Can't you help him? Aren't you an angel, can't you do anything??? How can you just stand by and watch!?!" Her eyes were bright with tears, glaring furiously up at the guardian angel.

The angel watched her sadly. "Kat," he said quietly. "Did you not hear the Lord? If he asked, the Father would supply more then twelve legions to hasten to His aid."

Kat stared at him. "But. . . But. . . But why doesn't He ask? Why not!?! Jesus," her voice broke and she had to stop.

"It is His will, and the will of the Father," he said with finality, as if that explained everything.

"But he doesn't deserve it!!! He is perfect, He never did anything wrong in His life!!! Why! Why!?!" Kat shrieked, slamming a fist down into the ground.

"Because He loves you."

Kat glared at him through her tears. "I did not ask Him to do this," she hissed. "I never would have asked Him to do this. Never! I love Him, I would never let Him hurt like this."

"But you have," said her angel. "You have Kat."

She was speechless, her mouth working for a moment before she found her voice. "No!!!"

"Yes," the angel held her gaze grimly," you have. You hurt the Lord everyday. Every time you choose to turn away, it hurts Him like you cannot even begin to imagine. Why do you think He is doing this? He loves you Kat, more then you can ever know, but the debt that you owe, you cannot pay and it must be paid for you to join with Him in eternity."

"It must be paid?" Kat whispered, her mind whirling, trying to understand what she had just been told.

"Yes. It must be paid and there is no other way besides this. It will be paid," the angel pointed to Jesus," in His blood."

Kat turned slowly to look at Jesus, and he met her eyes. "You mean," Kat began softly," You mean. . . This is, my doing?" The angel nodded, but she didn't see him. She could only look back into Christ's face, and see the pain there. Tremendous pain, that still could not hide the terrible love in his face.

She shook her head, denying. "No. No, it's not my fault. It's. . . It's," she threw herself towards Jesus on her knees, arms extended. "Please, oh God have mercy on me, please don't do this. . . I'm not worthy, I'm not worthy, I don't deserve your love and you don't deserve to go through this. Jesus, please listen, please don't do this for me. . . Please, please, I love you so much. I-I can't stand to see you hurting like this," tears fell freely down her face. "Please," she pleaded. "Please, this hurts so much. Oh my God. . . Please don't do this to me."

Jesus just watched her in silence, the soldiers still at his feet mocking.

Kat clenched her fists and struck the floor again, screaming shrilly in anger. "WHY!?!?! I NEVER ASKED YOU TO DO THIS FOR ME!!! I DON'T WANT YOU TO DO THIS FOR ME!!! GOD!!! LISTEN TO ME!!! DAMN ME!!! DAMN ME TO HELL!!! BUT DON'T DO THIS!!! DON'T YOU DARE LET YOURSELF HURT LIKE THIS!!!" She looked furiously at Jesus, to see if he would call the legions of angels now.

A tear was trickling down his bloody cheek as he looked at her. Kat stared back into Jesus's sad eyes, seeing the truth in his somber steady gaze. He wasn't accusing, he wasn't angry, he was just. . . Sad. Somehow, that hurt more.

Kat stared at him. He loved her, she thought, he loved her so much that he was going to be hurt and hurt and humilated and bloodied and bruised and. . . And die. He was going to suffer and die, because he loved her.

Kat began to tremble, tears running down her cheeks and dripping onto floor. She had never hurt like this before, it was like her heart was being ripped apart. To be the cause, as Judas had said, it might as well have been her hands that will drive the nails.

With a sob, she hugged her knees. Rocking back and forth while she cried.

"Why," she whispered softly, rubbing her face in her arms. "Why? Why can't you hate me? Couldn't you hate me just a little bit? Just a little?" She choked, looking up at him again, dreading and yet hoping that she might see anger in his eyes.

There was none. Jesus was staring at her, love fierce in his face, his jaw set. Pilate called, and the soldiers took his arms. He continued to look at her as the soldiers led him outside to Pilate.

Kat could hear the crowd yelling at Pilate and Pilate yelling back. She knew what was happening, that Jesus was about to receive the death sentence, and that she was to blame.

"There there," her angel murmured, kneeling down beside her. "It's alright Kat. . ."

"No. . . It's not," she sniffed. "He's going to die, because he has to die for me, and there's nothing I can do about it, oh angel," she hugged him tightly, buried her face in his shoulder and wept.

Pain, suffering, death, and worst of all, he couldn't even hate her for it. . .

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