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A Roman soldier standing over Jesus yells, “Get up! You’ve got a Cross to carry!”
Jesus has just received the tremendous beating with a whip called a “cat o’ nine tails”, so named for the ripping effect it had on bare skin. In His heart Jesus now cries to His Father for strength to get up and finish this course. By a miracle he struggles to His feet and stands woozily, trying to regain His sense of balance. The soldier points commandingly to the cross prepared for Him. Jesus staggers to it, drops to one knee and—embraces the crude, wooden structure destined to bring Him to death. Straining to rise, He lifts the cross and begins to stagger in His weakness out into the street. Dragging His instrument of death, He sets His course for a hill outside of Jerusalem known as Golgotha, “the place of the skull”. The hill was so named because from a distance it bears some resemblance to the side view of a human skull. As if prophetically named, it would be the place Jesus’ head would finally hang in death.
Stumbling through the streets, Jesus is watched by a tremendous crowd that has gathered. Some of them had been at His trials all through the night. Peter and others of His followers had returned to the fringes of the crowd—hoping not to be Continue reading
While feeling the intense pressure, Jesus is doing what He has done all through His life—He is, with each new attack, turning to the Father and, in His heart, is drinking in the Father’s life. That life has strength and sanity in it, which preserves Him throughout this horrendous night. Make no mistake about it. When those accusations first hit His mind, He felt the same as you do when the enemy is attacking your mind. He felt the blows to His body just like you would feel them. The difference was that, as soon as He felt them, He would—in that instant—look to the Father for another drink of His strength, His life that flows as a river from the throne of God (Revelation 22:1). This was the way He had always lived, and He was showing us now, in the very worst mental and physical suffering, that we could still drink of the River of Life—indeed, we could have it flowing through us so that God’s life could also be viewed in us.
pounded into His head. And while everything in His body and mind told Him to run away from tomorrow, something deep in His spirit witnessed that He must submit to this death—that He must trust when He couldn’t see. And ultimately, though deserted by those closest to Him in this darkest hour of need, He chose what He had always chosen: To do the will of God. He chose to not just submit to, but embrace the will of His Father. And when He did, strength came. A special messenger from the Father appeared and touched Him, releasing strength into His weakened body and embattled mind. Now, though He had sweat blood due to the emotional pressure, His body felt much better. His mind was now at peace, as always comes with a surrender to the will of God. Joy—small, but strong—began to course through His being. He was now ready. And the time had come.
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