Jesus's Diary

My Crucifixtion

I turned to my disciples and I found them sleeping. I sighed, "Couldn't you men keep watch with me for one hour?" I asked Peter, "Watch me pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."
I went to go pray for the second time. "My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done."
When I returned, I found them sleeping again. My irritation rose. "Are you still sleeping and resting? Look, the hour has come, and the Son of Man is delivered into the hands of sinners! Rise! Let's go! Here comes my betrayer!" I yelled at them as I pointed at Judas who arrived with a large crowd. All of them were armed with swords and clubs.
Judas spoke to them quietly. "The one I kiss is the man. Arrest him."
He walked up to me and kissed me. He spoke with the fakest voice, "Greetings, Rabbi!"
"Why have you come, friend?" Without any notice, a mob of men seized me and they arrested me. One of Jesus' companions reached for his sword, drew it out and struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his ear. "What are you doing? Put your sword back in its place. For all who draw the sword will die by the sword. Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? But how then would the Scriptures be fulfilled that say it must happen in this way?"
I turned to the crowd, "Am I leading a rebellion, that you have come out with swords and clubs to capture me? Everyday I sat in the temple courts teaching, and you did not arrest me, but this has all taken p[lace that the writing of the prophets might be fulfilled."
I watched as the disciples who accompanied fled. I sighed and was taken.
I was led into the place and they called the company of soldiers. They placed a purple robe on me. I watched as they twisted together a crown of thorns and placed it on my head. I felt the sticky substance run down my temples, and run down the side of my face. "Hail, king of the Jews!" they said as they struck me again and again. I groaned in agony. I wanted this pain to end. I felt blood trickle down my back, as I also felt the soldiers spit on me. Once they were done mocking me, they took off the robe and they put my own clothes back on. They pushed me to my path of death.
They pushed me down as they placed a cross on my shoulders, making the heavy weight even heavier with the amount of pain on my shoulders. I slowly trudged along the dusty path. We walked for what seemed like an eternity. My vision became blurry. My hands began to shake. I couldn't take it anymore. I fell. I faintly heard the guards yelling at a person to do something, but I didn't know what. I could barely concentrate on what was happening at that specific moment. I coughed. I attempted to get back up, but I staggered back down as I saw red on the concrete road.
I felt someone lift me up. I could barely lift my head. As I slowly looked up, I saw Simon, a man from Cyrene carrying my cross. After a moment, or what seemed like a moment, we came to my grave. The place I knew where I would die. The guards gave me a cup. I tasted it. I spitted it out. I shook my head as they tried to force the cup to my lips. The guards snickered as they finally brought the cup down from my face. They enjoyed this. What kind of people would find satisfaction in this sick pleasure?
The guards pushed me to the ground. I didn't protest. I couldn't protest. They placed the wooden log behind me and placed my wrists on each end. It was like all the pain vanished. I felt so numb. I couldn't cry. I couldn't scream. I felt so numb. I just wanted to die at that moment. The soldiers placed the nail, hovering over my wrist. What was I going to do? The soldier lifted the hammer up past his head, ready to slam it down. I closed my eyes. The pain. The torture. Why. Why?
I felt the searing pain. Pain that I didn't even know I could feel. It pierced through my wrist. I felt the blood splatter against the wood and the ground. I screamed. A scream that I didn't know was even possible. I felt so numb. I didn't know there was anymore pain to feel. The guards shifted to the other side. They did the exact same thing. This time the pain was a little less. It still wasn't great, but it still hurt. I didn't scream. I couldn't. I knew this was the end. And I accepted it.
They lifted me onto the long and thick stick that was in the ground. Some of the other guards were discussing my clothes. They divided them and now they were casting lots? How pathetic. I winced in pain. I coughed. "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing."
The guards placed a sign above my head. I heard someone read it themselves. I think it said: This is Jesus. The King of the Jews.
I could barely lift my head to look side to side. There were two criminals beside me. One on my left and one on my right. I looked below, my eyes half lidded. People were passing and they were throwing insults at me. "You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself! Come down from the cross, if you are the Son of God!" the people screamed.
I looked a little bit out into the distance to see the chief priests, teachers of the law, and some elders. I knew they were mocking me. I saw their lips moving. "He saved others," I made out, "but he can't save himself! He's the king of Israel! Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God. Let God rescue him now if he wants him, for he said, 'I am the Son of God.'"
I inhaled deeply. Even breathing hurts. I look to the side to see my mother and John. "Woman, here is your son," I said to my mother. I turned to John, "Here is your mother." All John nodded. I saw the water brimming in his eyes. He looked away. My mother looked away.1
I could hear insults, mocks, anything that could be hurled at me was thrown at me. Right there. The criminal on my right spoke, his voice raspy, "Aren't you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!"
The criminal on my left scoffed, "Don't you fear God since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong," he turned his head towards me and gave me a sloppy smile, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."
My expression of pain slightly turned more comfortable. An expression mixed with the ongoing pain, yet it still softened. "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise."
After that sentence was silence between the three of us. None of us talked. We all sat there in pain. It wasn't until it was around noon when I spoke again, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit."
I inhaled. I exhaled. I finally closed my eyes. I could finally rest from this physical body.