Over the past week I’ve posted different”eye-witness” accounts to the Stations of the Cross. They were designed to explore the wide-range of emotions among those who experienced them first-hand. I hope that they have lead you to put yourself in the story and compare your own reactions, motivations, hopes and fears with the character’s. I invite you to reflect with me once again:
I had come out to see all that was going on, to see what would happen. I arrived about noon and the sky looked dark. There was a sense of anticipation in the air. The murmurings were that Jesus was about to do something great but I wasn’t so sure. He looked so weak, so frail.
At about 3:00, Jesus began to say something. Even though it took all that he had, he spoke loudly enough for all of us to hear him.
What he said haunts me to this day…
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
Someone next to me yelled, “He is calling for Elijah!” I grabbed a sponge and put it on a spear to give him some wine to drink. Then someone else shouted, “Wait, let us see if Elijah comes to save him.”
That’s when Jesus breathed his last, and died.
JOSEPH OF ARIMATHEA
They say that the veil in the Temple sanctuary was torn in two…
That the earth quaked…
That rocks were split…
For me, I don’t remember much of what happened that afternoon. The soldiers began to panic and people began to leave the hill. That’s when I saw Mary and the others standing there weeping. It was too much for me to handle, so I left, too.
Sunset was quickly approaching and with the Sabbath about to begin, I knew that something had to be done with His body immediately. What possessed me to go to Pilate, I don’t know, but I dared to ask him to give me His body. Pilate agreed.
I had a tomb nearby recently dug and we brought His body and laid it to rest there. Then, we rolled a stone across the entrance.
I just really thought that Jesus would do more…that he would be more.
There has to be more…