He agonized in the garden, sweating great drops of blood.
He was betrayed by one of the twelve and abandoned by the rest.
He was arrested and bound and led before a kangaroo court,
where he was slapped, falsely accused, interrogated, lied about, tried, convicted, and condemned.
Peter denied him six times in the courtyard before morning.
The spiritual leaders of Israel spat in his face.
They blindfolded him, punched him, and demanded him to prophesy who had done it.
They mocked him, they cursed him,
and then they sent him to Pilate.
Tried by Pilate, he was found innocent.
Herod treated him with scorn and contempt,
dressing him in a royal robe as a cruel joke.
Pilate tried to release him, but the crowd demanded Barabbas instead.
Pilate had him scourged to satisfy their blood-lust,
but the crowd demanded crucifixion.
The Roman soldiers crowned him with thorns,
beating them into his skull with a rod
before placing the rod in his hand as a scepter.
They too spat upon him, as they bowed in false worship of the king.
They placed a cross upon his shoulders and forced him to walk the Way of Sorrow.
They offered him something for his pain, but he refused it.
They laid him on the cross and drove nails through his hands and feet to hold him there.
They gambled for his clothes.
Dogs licked his blood.
His own mother was forced to watch his torturous dying.
His enemies stood around laughing and mocking and screaming and demanding another sign.
The spirits of wickedness gathered to cheer his impending doom.
The thief on one mocked him as they suffered,
the other begged for mercy and received it.
On the cross that day, Jesus forgave a thief and his own crucifiers,
and looking down through the corridors of time,
he forgave me.
Everything he did that day, everything he suffered, everything he endured,
he did so for me.
Jesus took the punishment for my sin upon himself,
so that I could go free.
Jesus gave his life so that I might live,
and that alone is enough
to compel me
to live for Him.
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