6/13/04

In my mind's eye I see the Man, on His knees, hands in front of Him tied by a rope. He is kneeling when they strike His flesh with the sticks - striking until huge welts start to puff up because of the force of their blows. He falls forward, body being held up only by His arms, with His hands still tied to the stone table in front of Him.

My eyes start to water, my breath is caught in my throat. How can they hit so hard, with no conscience, no mercy? Finally they stop. He drags His body up again to His knees. Thank goodness they are done.

They do not untie Him though. They walk back, pick up a whip from their weapons of torture, a whip with sharp bones at the end. Then they swing - the force with which I cannot forget. His back is torn and the blood flows. Again and again, they whip Him until He is lying, face down, and all I can see is the red that covers His back.

I have seen enough. With the tears streaming down my face I run out. "Stop!" I yell. "It is enough! I am so sorry, Lord. I am sorry for my sins, for my brokenness which You must pay for. I know now that I must turn away from my wickedness and walk in the Light of Your Truth. Please don't whip Him anymore. He has done nothing." I fall to my knees, weeping, my chest heaving from the sobs that I cannot control.

There is a hush as all eyes are now fixed on me. It is tense - as if all who are watching are too surprised that I have dared to speak.

I look now, across the courtyard and my eyes are fixed on Him who still lies face down, who's only movement has been the breath that He takes. Then, He slowly lifts His head, and looks at me. "My child," he says in a barely audible whisper. "You have not yet understood."

With that they begin to whip again as I look on in shock. But I have begun to understand. The blood that covers their faces as they continue to mercilessly beat Him is all that can save them in the end.