A man staggers down the street, barely recognizable as a human. His features are torn and battered, bloody and broken. He trips, his head cracking against the ground. You wince, this man's blood spattering across your skirt. You want to turn away, but something makes you stay. What has he done that this is his punishment? You turn to ask someone, an older woman weeping nearby. The answer? She looks up at you with tear-filled eyes. His crime? The son of God. You watch the man as he stumbles under the weight of his burden, unable to stand. The guards grab a man walking past, trying to ignore the scene before him.
"You! Carry his cross."
The son of God, murdered, for who he was? How was this justice? You follow the bloody trail through the main streets, joining the group of wailing women crawling at his heels. This man... This God... He would let them kill him?
Your head begins to spin, blurring the scene before you. It all seems so unreal, so impossible. Blackness. The back of your eyelids.
Thud.
The nails in his hands.
Thud.
The cross uprighted.
AaaaaaaaaAAAA! You are surrounded by the desperate cries.
"Fool!"
"Save yourself!"
"My son!"
From the cross, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they're doing!"
The ground rumbled. The skies darkened. The stones screamed.
Silence.
The whispered plea.
"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
A sigh. "Into Your hands, I commit my spirit..."
The last breath.
The God who died.
The God who wouldn't stay dead.
For the Sunday morn, when you joined the women to anoint the Savior, the Lord wasn't there.
He arose! He has risen! He is not here! He is alive!
You saw him later. You were with a crowd of his followers, drinking in all the knowledge you could of this man. That's when you saw him. That's when everyone saw him. Those around you fell on their faces before him in worship. Your eyes met his. It seemed he saw into your very soul. And he did, you realized.
This was your choice: would you accept this man as your own personal savior, falling down to worship him? Or would you deny what was so unmistakably the truth?
This was your choice then.
This is your choice now.
Only you can choose.
He stands with open arms.
Choose.
YOU ARE READING
The Body of Christ
SpiritualHey there. I love you. Just a little 'by the way.' But you know what? God loves you even more. He loves you so much, He died for you. Will you return the love, or will you let your heart remain cold? I no that the Church is not perfect. But we are t...
