Through her eyes

Through her eyes

-If I were a person back in time when Jesus was around, what would I see? How would it be like?-

The day started out as every other day would. But today, father looked a little more anxious than usual as he woke me up. It was as though something was going to happen. Brushing my hair and washing my face, I sleepily walked to our kitchen area. Old pots hung on the walls, and we could not afford our own kitchen, so we used father’s smith fire in his shop, which was next to our home, to cook. Mother had already baked bread, and was up hours ago. It was not much, but we loved eating freshly baked bread, as we could only afford to bake bread once a week.

After breakfast, father brought me on my first outing to town. There was a lot of noise and there seemed to be a commotion going on in the synagogue. Father carried me over his shoulders, and I saw a man, in torn clothes, with blood on his back, face.. it seemed as though he was bleeding so much, that one could not even see where his wounds were.
After a long trial, the crowd became excited as the elders of the temple and some seemingly high ranking people started accusing the man of doing many things. All the time, the man was silent.

“Father, why doesn’t he defend himself?” I asked. Father did not answer me, but the look on his face was serious, and pained, probably out of pity for the man.
Finally, Pilate, the man who was in charge of our hometown, asked if the crowd would prefer to have this man called Barnabas, or the poor bleeding man in front of him, whom I now knew was Jesus, to be released. Almost as if a cold wind had swept through the crowd, everyone started chanting: “We want Barnabas!” Over and over and over again. Till I felt myself following along to their chanting, though I did not know what it was all about. One look from father, and I kept quiet and still.

Something stirred in my mind. Wait, was not this Jesus the same Jesus who was performing miracles? Who taught on the mountains? And who could actually calm the sea and storm as someone said? What is he doing here?

Pilate passed the sentence on the man called Jesus. He was to be crucified. After the whole scene, everyone started to leave, and the man, Jesus, was dragged away by a few guards, who were constantly spitting and hitting him. Father turned to leave as well, and I, still being carried by him, wondered where we were going to.

Then I saw it. Jesus was being made to carry this huge wooden cross through the streets to the place where they nailed people on wooden poles. The other kids were forbidden to even go near the place, and I was probably going to see. I guess father had forgotten that he was carrying me along amidst all the excitement.

As Jesus dragged his cross on the streets, he was constantly being whipped and flogged. There was a crown of thorns on his head, and I could see that it hurt him so bad. Could he even see where he was walking with his blood in his eyes? The air was thick with angry voices, and shouting and obscene language, coupled with the intermittent sound of lashing and the whip as it met it’s target on Jesus’ body. The road was mixed with sand and his blood. I felt sorry for the man, and wondered what he had done to deserve this.

And that cross… must be so heavy for him to carry…He was almost walking on his knees under the weight of the cross. I felt lost and confused as to what was going on. Why father? Why does he have to go to that place where bad people die? The thoughts whirled in my mind and I didn’t notice that he had fallen, and the guards had forced father to take his place and carry the cross for him. It was public humiliation to be carrying the cross through town. Nevertheless, my father obliged and told me to go home as he started to walk along the procession.
I was too numb to obey, and a strange feeling came over me. I don’t know if it was curiosity or pity. I followed along, watching my father, and the whole procession. All too soon, we were at the foot of the hill where the ground was covered in the blood of the people who were previously nailed on the wooden crosses for their sins. It had a terrible feeling and smell about it. So many people around us.. all pushing and shoving to see what was going on. The crowd overwhelmed me, and I couldn’t see father anymore. Ignoring my scraped knee and the dirt on my face, I pushed forward through the bodies of people around me. How annoying it is when you’re only the height of most people’s waists!

I peeked between the legs of a person who was standing near the forbidden area. I was excited as well as curious to see what was going on. I did not dare to poke my head out for fear that I too would be grabbed and nailed to the cross. Horror overtook me as I witnessed the guards driving huge nails into the palms of Jesus, and then into his feet, to nail him to the cross he carried. His blood seems to seap into the grounds, joining that of those who once shared the same fate as him.

Then the cross was erected up into the air. I saw the pain in his face as it was done and above him, hung a sign that read: “JESUS OF NAZARETH, The King of the Jews”. I did not understand why, but tears streamed down my face. Even as I was some distance away from him, somehow or other, he caught my eye, and in that moment, I felt his pain and….what was it? LOVE? How can it be? But yes, that was what it was.. on his face, in his eyes, for me, for the people, for the guards who ill-treated him, radiating like a bright light around him. Never ending, never ceasing, never accusing.

It was something that could not be explained. Not like my parent’s love, but unlike any love that I have ever known. He saw ME. Even when I was down there, peeking out between the legs of a person. He saw my frightened eyes, the horror in my face and the sadness in the tears that flowed relentlessly. He saw and comforted me. Despite his pain and agony, he gave me comfort and courage somehow to not be afraid. Because everything will change somehow.. and it will never be the same again..

He died that day. Father found me in a corner, and brought me home after some sounding. But I’ll never forget the look in his eyes.. with so much love piercing through all the pain and suffering. That day, I believed in Jesus.

-Though we may not be able to go back in time to see everything, Jesus died for us. God let it happen for US. How amazing that God’s love would surpass all things. How ironic that people still find it hard to accept this precious gift of life for “God has shown us His love by sending His only Son into the world so that we could have life through Him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Sons as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.” 1 John 4:9-10

Jesus is Lord. Amen.

Thought of this when I had done editting the MEDIC articles :)