What was it like? Standing back in the crowd, out of the direct eyesight of the Imperial Soldiers. Watching, waiting.
In a sense, all humanity stands there, we are the ones who like the impenitent criminal deserve to be up there, yet there He is. Beaten, wounded, still bleeding. How can this Man even still be alive to even be on that horrible Cross? There stands His Mother, ages of ages of humans will call her Blessed and ask her intercessions, but today her heart is pierced as surely as His hands and feet. How can any parent watch their child die? It is an unspeakable pain, and to die in such a horrific way...
Why does this nightmare drag on, it has been hours since they put Him up there? Why isn't He cursing these dogs who put Him up there? How can He forgive them...? I can't... I won't!
Then as darkness covers the land, and a chill blows on the wind, all the sorrows and transgressions of humanity fell upon Him, and as gentle as a dove, He said "It is finished" and breathed His last.
This for us disciples is the moment of ultimate disaster. What went wrong? The profound shock and despair is beyond words. Wasn't God with this man? Yet, He sent no Legions of Angels to pull Him down from the Cross. Darkness covers the land, and all is lost.
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