Yes, Crucify Him.

"Crucify him!" i said as loudly as i dared when Pontius Pilate asked what we wanted to do with Jesus.

when he asked a second time, i said more loudly, though my heart was breaking because i knew the outcome of the trial and i knew jesus would die because of me.

"CRUCIFY HIM!!!".... in the moment those words came out of me, i felt as if time had wrapped itself up and all of it - from the beginning to eternity from now - all met on one plane, enmeshed in that singular period when all of humanity, now long dead and gone, now yet to be borne, screamed out in one voice, "C R U C I F Y H I M !!!!!"

i hate my part in the Palm Sunday Gospel reading. we are always the crowd, the ingrates who shouted for Pontius Pilate to crucify Jesus.

as the thought of just how much i hate the lines i had came to mind, the recognition also sank in, with that sensation again of time folding in upon itself, that i am fully responsible for His crucifixion.

just minutes ago, we had been waving palms as the priest and his entourage of altar boys processed passed us into the church. i waved Christ in with mixed emotions...

... with joy because i know that i had shared in the momentous event in history when Jesus Christ himself (!!!) rode past me on a donkey and i saw him through others' bobbing heads and frantic waves of their palms!

... but also with sorrow as i knew that minutes later i would be one of the same people who welcomed him, to want him crucified.

i was a part of that great unfolding that led to the world being saved. with heaviness of heart, a great, big lump in my throat and a desire to be a part of those Jesus died for, if that is what it takes to accept His love as well, i mustered enough courage to admit my failings and enough strength to not break into tears as i uttered: "C R U C I F Y H I M".


joyce