Climax To The Greatest Story Ever Told – Part 6 of 8

Written: June 1, 2013 at 22:11

Getting to the end now. Here comes Part 6!

Suddenly Christ had lost control of His body.

In the physical realm it had been 6 hours. Six agonizing hours on a wooden cross. Soft, delicate flesh impaled and pegged to a rough surface by cold, hard nails inches upon inches long. His back, raw and shredded by a catanine to the point of exposing white, pulpy flesh and twisting veins, was pressed against the abrasive surface of an untreated tree trunk, holy blood oozing down. He was hanging on almost nothing, sheer body weight pulling against the nails that held Him captive. For 6 hours. And all that at the end of an entire night of abuse and ridicule and being dragged from one place to the other and no sleep; and a torturous trek through the city and to the crucifixion site, barely able to support Himself, much less carry a cross.

Now, at the end of 6 hours, He had finally reached His limit and was drifting away into the darkness of the netherworld, taking His first steps on that lonely road called death. He, God-made-flesh, was about to do the unthinkable and actually taste death. The idea itself seemed preposterous — no wonder nobody had believed Him when He had repeatedly predicted the sombre event. Not even those who had been with Him for 3 and a half years. But death was actually coming to take Him away. He would finally pass on. But not before this…

In the spirit realm, there remained one thing before He was allowed to rest in peace. The one thing worse than the entire ordeal of physical torture He had just endured over the past 16 hours or thereabout. The one thing that had Him literally terrified. Nothing in the physical realm could ever hope to attain to the level of horror that He was now about to endure.

His body was rising high into the air, independent of His will. Away from the battle. Away from grotesque demons and their supreme hatred. Away from the bloodlust. Away from the danger. And into something far worse. Suddenly all around Him was blackness. Perfect blackness, devoid of any light whatsoever, however small the quantity. He was ascending at unimaginable speeds, He knew, yet it felt as if He was perfectly immobile. The seconds flew past and He wished earnestly that they would slow down. His mind drifted back to His request the day before: Father, if it’s Your will, let this cup pass from Me… Let it pass! He had prayed along these lines with such fervour and desperation that His sweat had become blood. That cup had now been almost fully drained but He would not be allowed to leave even the dregs behind. And the time for the dregs, for the worst part, had come.

Yet He remembered His conclusion and knew He had been right:  Nevertheless, not My will, but Thine be done… He knew He couldn’t give up now and He didn’t want to, anyway. He’d come this far out of love. Pure love. He’d known all along that it would end like this. But He’d also known all along what would happen if He chose not to do this, as well as the unspeakable joy that would come about if He were to in fact go through this and finish it successfully. And that bright future was far too exciting a prospect to allow even the steepest price imaginable to get in the way of its attainment. He would gladly pay it all again and again. For His Father. For Himself. For them.

His last thoughts as a free man drifted to them. Humanity. The crowning piece of all creation. What perfection He had given them in the beginning. Brightness of countenance. Superior intelligence. Unbridled joy and piece and love. A paradise to inhabit and rule with never a shadow of darkness, sorrow or fear. And then what a blunder they had committed and thrown it all away, all for a fluke. Sinning. Separating themselves from Him. Embarking on a sad and rapid decline into pain, sickness, war, decadence and death, far away from His protection and stability, far away from their destiny. But then what a redemption awaited them after He had completed this sacrifice! What a stellar reality, far exceeding their wildest imaginations and boldest dreams. All that was a mere few moments away, with only His final agony standing in the way. He kept His thoughts fixated on that future and managed a genuine smile amid His distress…

He stopped moving abruptly. The first thing He noticed was that His strength had left Him totally. He was being held up by an unseen force but if it were not for that, He would have collapsed long ago. Then the pain slammed into Him. Sudden, unrelenting, excruciating pain. In every single area of His being. He wanted to cry out but His lips and tongue had lost their strength. The cry, born in the depths of His beng, died behind closed lips. Air had become scarce. Breathing was a veritable struggle. He had just enough to subsist, yet not enough to be at ease. He felt as if He was actually suffocating, yet He wasn’t really. Fear wrapped its cold, steely fingers around His heart and squeezed mercilessly. His lips finally parted but hung limp, lifeless. He hyperventilated. The sound of air frantically rushing past His throat filled His ears. Weakness characterized every fibre of His being. Weakness added to pain. Utter inability to move at will. He was crying and screaming inside but neither the tears nor the cry would manifest themselves. And His eyes widened as He finally saw the light approaching, the light of His beloved Father. Extremely radiant, blindingly pure and beautiful to behold. Radiating power and holiness to unimaginable degrees. His Father was coming!

But the joy He should have felt, the hope of being rescued which should have flooded His being, was nowhere to be seen. In fact, for the very first time, this light brought Him to heights of dread bordering on the very brink of total insanity but never totally relinquishing Him to the comparative bliss and relief that that insanity would have offered Him. Because this light was the reason for His sudden fear and pain and weakness. He wanted with all His heart to hide Himself, for in the presence of this light He felt utterly soiled and unclean. He felt pure, infinite, divine wrath aimed fully at Him — only at Him — and He cowered inside, praying for escape but knowing there would be none. One does not hide from or escape Almighty God.

The light was right before Him now and suddenly all His symptoms lessened. They didn’t disappear, but they lessened considerably. Now He felt only mildly uncomfortable. The light parted to reveal the face and figure He had known and loved for an eternity. Incomparable beauty. Trying to describe it would be pointless and would not do justice to the One clothed in light. The Father was dressed for war, fully armed and awesome in all His glory, and Christ knew that in this war He was to be the unfortunate opposition.

Yet the face offered Him a warm smile.

“Son.”

Light in darkness

Peace,
Walkabwoy

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About walkabwoy

Young. Intellectual. Spiritual. Pragmatic. Talented. Seeker of Wisdom, Knowledge and Understanding. Musician. Writer. Human. Ordinary. Extraordinary. Passionate. Friend. Humble. These are a few words I would use to describe myself. I'm simply a young man in search of something bigger and better in life; not merely in the socio-economic sphere, but in the holistic sense. Life is not simply the biological process of living or the social process of existing.
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