Through the Centurion’s Eyes

Woman

Who are you

To stand there so silently

As the crowd around you screams so loudly?

Crucify Him! Crucify Him!”

They shout.

But you do nothing.


Woman

Who are you

To flinch every time

The prisoner receives his lashes?

He deserves this.

Why can’t you see that?

Dry your eyes.


Woman

Who are you

To gasp in shock

 At the size of the cross

This man has to carry?

Why do you care?

Get over it.


Woman

Who are you

To fall as the false prophet does?

He is weak.

You are healthy.

Get up.


Woman

Who are you

 To dare break through

The crowd and touch this man?

As I rip you away,

I hear you whisper

He is my only Son


Woman,

Mother of this man

Why are you watching this?

Save yourself the agony

Of watching your son

Die for the crimes

He has committed.


Woman

I cannot take your weeping

I NEED SOMEBODY TO HELP THIS MAN

I shout.

This will be over soon.

I promise.


Woman

I have found a man

Who I will make help your son

Simon, a Cyrenian.

He will carry your son

On his journey to

Calvary.


Woman

I see the relief in your eyes

As the one called Veronica comes forward

Wiping the face of your son.

I cannot let her do this.

As I pull her away,

I’m sorry.


Woman

As your son falls the second time,

My patience wears thin.

GET UP,” I shout

As I whip his legs.

And then,

I see your face.


Woman

I just want this day to be over with

I want your pain to end.

I’m sorry I have hurt you

By hurting your son.

It is my job.


Woman,

I see your loving look

As your son in all his agony

Takes time to comfort

The weeping women

Of Jerusalem.

Why?


Woman

As your son loses control of his cross

And falls to the ground,

completely crushed by it,

I see you fall too,

Sharing in your son’s pain.

 Why did you come

Today?


Woman

As your son is stripped naked,

I see you reach out in sorrow for him.

I’m sorry.

This is part of the humiliation

Each prisoner

Sentenced to death on the cross

Is subjected to.


Woman,

Why do you submit yourself

To your son’s shame?

As he is nailed to the cross,

I hear you wail.

Each time the hammer

Drives the nail through

his bloody body,

you shudder.


Woman,

He is dead.

Your son

Is

No

More.

I’m sorry.

This had to happen.

It is the law.


Woman

Why has the sky gone black?

As your son exhaled his last breath

Why did he say

“Father, into your hands I commend my spirit”?

Was not his father Joseph

The carpenter?


Woman

Normally the body of the guilty one

 hangs all day and night.

Joseph of Arimathea

Has requested

It sooner.


Woman

We are told to break the legs of those crucified,

So that they die quicker.

Your son is already dead.

So I pierce his heart

In order to save you

Some pain.


Woman

WHAT HAVE I DONE

Blood and water

Rushed forth from

Your son’s heart.

And the water and blood

From his side

Bathe my eyes,

My heart is opened.


Woman

TRULY YOUR SON

IS

THE SON OF GOD.

What have I done?

Forgive me.

Forgive me.

Please.


Woman,

I look at you, staring at your son.

In that moment, you turn to me,

With a solemn serenity mixed

With sorrow on your face,

And you say

I forgive you, as does

My son.”


Woman

Let me give you your son.

Let me take God

Off the cross.

Hold him.

One last time.


Woman

As you go to bury your son,

You invite me to come along.

Me?

I have murdered God.

How could I go?


Woman

You beckon me.

“He did this for you.

To save you from your sins.

Come, and honor my Son,

Our Lord,

And know of his love

For you.”


Woman

As you lay your Son

In the tomb,

You almost seem happy.

Why?

I ask you this.


Woman

Your reply leaves me hopeful:

“He has gone from us,

For now.

He will be back,

Sooner than you think.”


Woman

It is the first day of the week.

Only three days

After Jesus

Moved on.

The tomb is empty.

CHRIST HAS WON!


Woman,

Help me.

May you always

Lead me

To Your Son.

Amen.

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