Redemption is Ours

By William McRight

It is cool in the garden. A breeze blows through the olive trees and chills the skin. What is to happen settles into Your soul. It is Your and the worlds fulfillment.  The form You are in currently is gripped, wrought and shaken with fear of the task before You. The Angel comes to you and fills Your soul with hope. Hope passed from Him. Through You and to all of us. Forever.

As Your fervent prayer intensifies, the first taste of the blood dripping from your brow touches your lips. You know it will be the first of a full tide. You pray for humanity.  You pray for strength. You pray for redemption for all of them.  The betrayal has come and gone and the soldiers are coming. They are coming to snuff out Your light, message and love. Let them come. Your prayer soars to God and He soothes You. There will be pain. There will be blood. There will be redemption.

Your men draw the sword to defend You. They lash out as men do, in defense of their passion and to protect themselves from the pain of losing You. For You have told them what will transpire over the coming days and hours and they are afraid. They know Your message is above all. They strike a centurion to defend You.  You tell them to sheath the sword as You prepare to drink from the cup that Your Father has provided to all of us. The night air in the garden remains cool despite the fact that history has begun to move all around You. The world is about to be changed. Deeds, decisions and actions will happen quickly. As the guards lead you out of the garden Your work and His are in motion. The fear is there about what is to come but it is being transported away by Your destiny and determination to bleed the cleansing blood for all of them.

The High Priests gaze at you with scorn and revulsion. Your mere presence has clouded their minds and hearts and filled them with fear and hatred. You are a force sent from God to teach them and they hate You for it. So the blows begin to come. Fists, sandaled heels and sword pommels strike you from all sides. They will humiliate You. In it You seek out the peace of Your Father’s word and the obligation You now face. The High Priests are cowards. They claim they cannot be responsible for Your death due to the laws Your Father gave them. So they pass the responsibility onto the Prefect.   The Prefect finds no fault with You. His men and the Sanhedrin and the people mock and spit at and defile You. The Prefect does not yearn for your death. He pities the High Priests and their weakness. The spectators at Your “trial” are consumed by fear of Your message. They howl for your death. They are offered murderers and scoundrels in your stead.  It is no matter.  Your task is now clear. You will redeem them.

The true pain begins. The sands of the courtyard are burning beneath your hands and knees. You pray that the heat from the sands seal you to stem the flow of blood. The blows are endless, penetrating and fierce. The spikes of the metal flagrum tear into Your skin as You are driven to the earth to bear your stripes.  You hear, feel and see bones break, but never Your spirit. You are the price that must be paid. In a momentary pause in the scourging You look to Your flesh and realize this this was always to be. The blood that flows is cleansing the world. Your Father so loved the world that he gave You to die and rise again to cleanse the world and redeem all of us. Your body is broken, so broken.. but Your heart is full and You are willing to be a party to this travesty. You and He and the Spirit are one and are the New Covenant. The beating ends and Your journey continues.

The wood for Your cross is heavy and jagged. It is rough, painful and unyielding. After the terrible tortuous beating You have received, the indignity of hauling this wood to the site of your crucifixion is merciless and cruel beyond words. You endure it. The mocking and scorn continues on the Via Dolorosa. They shun You. However, You catch glimpses from the crowd and the priests and the Centurions who know. They know You are who You proclaim to be. Despite the agony of your task, You beg Your Father to forgive them, for they know not what they do.  As the nails splinter bones in Your wrists and ankles, You cry out loudly, not in pain but in defiance, so that the people can question their souls and understand the impact of this sacrifice.  You are beaten and broken. For them. For us.

The seconds pass as hours as you hang upon a cross covered in Your blood. Blood poured out for the sake of all humanity. Your mind wanders to what is to be. You continue to dialogue and be at one with Your Father. As the humanity drains from You, You cannot help but wonder why have You been forsaken? It is what must have been done for one being to bear and atone for all the sins of humanity.  Your heart melts within You as You leave the earthly confines of a human form. The people lift You up in prayer and drown in their anguish as You breathe Your last and proclaim, “It is finished.”  The Earth shook. The Veil in the Temple was torn in two. The Centurion cried “Truly this Man was the Son of God.”

Your work for all of us was done. The Scripture is fulfilled.

The Tomb is quiet. You have remained at Your Fathers side through all of this but it is now time to return to Your people and help them understand what Your suffering has purchased. They are at first blind to you and full of doubt but are quickly convinced of Your Glory. Your promise to live, die and rise again is fulfilled and continues to provide all of us with an opportunity to know You and live in the eternal promise of Your word.

All that pain. All that torture. All that suffering. Endured. For us. So that we may live in You forever.

Thank You.

John 3:16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

Happy Easter.