The necessary death

After Luke 23:32-49 

It had to be, this death,

mandated by heaven.

The innocent nailed

to the tree, placed

between thieves,

listens to them

mocking, gambling

for his clothes,

the elites ridiculing

him, telling him

to save himself,

the soldiers mocking,

telling him to save

himself, and the thief,

mocking, telling him

to save himself, only 

the remaining thief

understanding the death

was necessary, asking 

to be remembered.

 

The darkness comes

like a wrathful storm. 

The curtain rips, a sign

of departure, He speaks

his last, commending

himself into his father’s

hands. And it is done.

It is finished.

It is accomplished,

this necessary death.

 

Photograph by Joshua Fuller via Unsplash. Used with permission.

The last prophecy

After Luke 23:26-31 

The women weep

to see him dragged

through dusty streets,

bearing the cross

upon his back 

until he can bear

no more; Simon

of Cyrene is

made to bear it,

as the one is

dragged to the hill.

The women weep;

he says to them

don’t weep for me,

weep for yourselves

for you children,

the days will come

when women weep,

when women wish

they never gave birth,

or nursed children,

asking mountains

to fall on them

and asking hills

to cover them.

Weep for that time;

don’t weep for me.

 

Photograph by Birmingham Museums Trust via Unsplash. Used with permission.

The darkness

After Mark 15

The day that begins 

in darkness

and ends in darkness,

the day of arrest,

the day of trials,

the day of beatings,

the day of ridicule,

the day of mocking,

the day of scourging,

the day of jeering,

the day of carrying

a cross through crowds,

the day of spikes 

driven through hands,

the day of thirst,

that terrible thirst,

the day the father

who loves him

turns away,

the death of death.

The sky cracks open,

the earth shakes,

the darkness engulfs,

the curtain tears.

It is done.

Photograph by Jason Blackeye via Unsplash. Used with permission.

The ninth hour

After Romans 5:6-11

The darkness came

at the ninth hour, when

the day should have been filled

with light. The darkness rolled

across the landscape, the clouds

heaving in agony, rocks cracking,

the wind tearing at men’s souls,

hearts, minds. The darkness came

and tore the curtain, the veil,

in one motion ripping the authority,

shredding, a sound like a scream.

The darkness rolled and thickened

like fog, its initial mystery transformed

into a terror, a wrath poured out

upon a substitution. The darkness poured

through hearts and minds and souls

and spirits, flowing in love,

a terrible, terrifying love.

Photograph by Elti Meschau via Unsplash. Used with permission.

What he said

After John 16

Facing arrest, trials,

facing false judgments

and sentencing of death,

facing beatings and

humiliations,

facing a circle of thorns

shoved on top his head,

facing the scourge,

facing the dragging

of wood through the streets,

facing the jeers and insults,

facing the betrayals,

facing the desertions,

facing the nails being driven

into his hands and feet,

facing abandonment and

the reality of being alone,

facing his father turning

his face away,

facing drowning in sins,

facing death,

facing all of that,

what he said was:

I have overcome.

Photograph by Mohamed Nohassi via Unsplash. Used with permission.

The tenth hour

After Isaiah 53

I found my name

tattooed on his skin

and I did not know

why or how it was

there, at first, but there

it was in blue and red

and plain for all to see

and plain for me to feel.

I ran my fingers

on his skin, to feel

my name tattooed

on his skin, He did

not move as my fingers

touched my name. His skin

was cold, and lifeless,

fading into gray, with only

the tattoo needled

there, an accusation

and a promise.

Photograph by Lynn Greyling via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.