So, now, what? All those tales, these superstitious
people, told had been true! I had barely listened. But, I retained what I had
heard and this was too much! What do I do? I never uttered the name of God,
except in an expletive, and this guy looked so ordinary - so like any other man.
How could I have known? Should I stop the whole thing? I am a soldier and I’ve
earned my way up the ranks. Though I hold some power, it was gained by obeying
orders. So, I could not take it upon myself to undo what they had ordered. I am
only a centurion.
I sat down and watched. When the lightning came and
illuminated His face, I saw the suffering. But, also, that face held love. I
even heard Him say, "Forgive them, for they know not what they do." I never
heard that one before. I was used to the filth spewed out from these criminal’s
mouths. But, this was something new.
Now that the sun was gone (it wasn’t just that the sun
was gone, it was really dark!) And the wind had risen, and the rain came, it
sounded like all of nature was mourning. The thunder came, again, with the
lightning illuminating the sign above His head ... "Jesus of Nazareth, King of
the Jews". Was I executing a King?
It was more than that! Cesar, himself, could not have
called down this storm and certainly not the earthquake. That was what settled
it for me. More than a King, an area that I completely avoided in all my
studies. I preferred not to clutter my brain with those superstitious lies.
What did it matter how this world came to be? I was
here and I would do the best I could with the one life I had. But, if Someone
made it, controlled it, cared about it ... well, that’s something I had never
toyed with. But, I sure would want to know everything about it. Where had He
been all my life?
The night hadn’t been a good one anyway. They called
me to oversee the collection of some guy that had hung himself. The Jews take
this week too seriously; killing all those lambs, letting blood until the Kidron
is discolored with the blood! What a strange people!
I thought, today, I would have to oversee the
execution by crucifixion of two thieves. Some time through the night, they had
thrown this fellow in. So, what’s one more? It would not take any longer part of
the day. But, this was no ordinary man.
We divided His few possessions. His robe was seamless,
woven in one piece, quite a masterpiece. So, we cast the dice.
He spoke to no one, until that thief said, "Remember
me when You come into Your Kingdom!" And then He said, "Verily I say unto you,
today, you shall be with me in Paradise!"
The day had grown so dark that I couldn’t see His face
when He said, "My God! My God! Why have You forsaken me?" But, I could feel the
agony of the cry.
When things got back to normal, I would certainly do
some investigating on this Man. I watched it all. Sitting in the rain with
trembling earth beneath. He had directed his last words to only a few, that
thief, his friend, John, and his mother, and Some unseen force. He had said, at
the last, "Father" and looked toward the sky, "Into Your hands I commend my
spirit!"
I had never overseen a crucifixion like this. We had
Him down before the sun set, having been certain of his death by the spear. We
didn’t break His legs and, suddenly, I didn’t want anything rash to happen to
this body. So, His soul was gone. Do we possess a soul? No matter, I would
pursue that later.
I told my soldiers to be careful. Let Him down gently,
not the way we put Him up. His body was evidence of the last 24 hours. There had
been enough pain inflicted.
Already, there were two men, there, with proper papers
to take the body. No one needed to tell them to be careful. They handled this
Man as if He were Precious Stone! These men were in that high court the Jews
have, the Sanhedrin. I had seen them both at the temple grounds and at the
palace.
We took our spoils and left. I knew I had a lot of
questions to be answered, never given to staying in ignorance.
The storm let up and the sky lightened. It was
strange, like having daybreak from the west.
I just thought I was through with the Man. Only a
couple of hours and the call came to set a guard at His tomb. "Why would we need
soldiers to guard a tomb?" I had asked. They told me because of some tales
passed around, by this Man’s friends, and they were afraid of someone stealing
the body and saying He had risen from the dead.
What a riot that would cause! It would have been
better if they had left this Jesus alive! Well, the men would be thrilled at
their exciting job. I would dispatch them and they would complain and be bored
for a few days.
Meanwhile, I had plans for my free time. I had the
sign that had been above His head: "Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews" and now
I brought it out. Strange words for a criminal, strange day. Strange feelings in
my heart, so callused by all the "orders" I had followed.
I had the feeling that I was beginning a great
adventure, for it had grown quite dark, now, and there was a definite chill in
the air. I reached for my coat and started out in the night air. Nicodemus had
said I could come anytime, said he once made a midnight visit that had changed
his life. I would chance it. For, I had questions too great not to pursue!
Stepping out in the night air only brought back the
events of the afternoon. I really expected the earth to tremble. That came the
first day of the week.
My guards answered to me. But, I answered to Pilate.
Even the Jews had set a guard and the body was gone! I never saw such scurrying!
Money was flying. Pay us all to say His body was stolen! We knew better. For, we
knew the penalty. But, better to take the bribe than to face the truth.
Someone had made a serious mistake and, for my part, I
knew I would never be the same. I had found some answers and I was on my way to
more.
What would you do if you had been there ... if you had
seen the signs and heard the jeers, felt the earth quake, and seen the day
disappear ... heard kind words, from a man dying, because you did your job? What
would you do, if you had been in charge of the guard?
The door to my soul was open and I could not but
follow. He had, truthfully, said, "They know not what they do ... Father,
forgive."
I know I need many answers. But, until I get them all,
I will repeat what I said on that hill, on that dark day, "TRULY, THIS WAS THE
SON OF GOD!"
© 2003 by Joan Clifton Costner
http://underhiswings0.tripod.com
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