It started as just another day. Just another execution. Two common criminals, and then this rabble-rouser rabbi they called Jesus. We've done it so often now it's routine. We have to find new ways to add a bit of interest. So we took his clothing and made four piles, one for each one of us.
But the tunic was woven in one piece. “Why not make it a game then, cast lots for it” we said. And it fell to me, as it happens.
Still, it was a long day. Noon came, and darkness fell over the whole land until three o’clock. The sun was obscured. It was weirdly still. I found myself holding my breath and didn’t know why.
“It’s getting late.” We have to finish it before the day ends. Take a hammer, break the legs. That way they’ll no longer be able to push up on their legs to breathe: it finishes them off pretty effectively.
But for this one there was no need. He didn’t struggle to stay alive. Why? He’s slumped forward. A spear pierces his heart, blood and water pour out. That means he’s dead. No room for mistakes.
The dark, the weird calm, the dead teacher. Then the earth shakes. Rocks split. Then there’s this eruption inside me. I find myself shouting out: “Certainly this man was innocent”.
We’ve killed an innocent man. I’ve killed an innocent man. “This was the Son of God.”
Want to read more Cross Perspectives? :-
Cross Perspective #1 – The perspective of a Pharisee
Cross Perspective #2 – The perspective of a Mother
Cross Perspective #3 – The perspective of the Devil
Cross Perspective #5 – The Perspective of the Father
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