Freeze Frame Crucifixion

John 19:17

Carrying his own cross, he went out to the place of the Skull.

For nearly two and a half years I have been writing out the gospel of John.   In Greek, English and Thai, verse by verse, one each day, it's become a labour of love and a discipline of slowing that I have come to find deeply centering.

Until right now.

John 19:18

There they crucified him.

Right now, by no plan that could ever have been calculated, I am writing out the Crucifixion during Lent.

Slowly.

Frame by frame.

And it's awful.

John 19:25

Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother.

In my notebook Jesus dies very, very slowly.

A little bit each day.

It takes a long time.

John 19:28

Later, knowing that everything had now been finished, Jesus, "I am thirsty."

I am uncomfortable.

Squeamish even.

It makes me realize a startling truth about myself.  That even with a life time of knowing the story, even having seen the movies and pictures many times over, even with the responsibility of preaching this stuff every year for Easter, and often enough in between, I am rather inclined to read through all this misery very quickly.  I don't even let my eyes linger too long on the pages of my Bible.  It's too gory.  Too horrible.  Too wretched to watch my Jesus in such agony.  Let's just hurry past this to the garden, and Mary ecstatic with joy when He says her name.


But the practice of writing out only.  One.  Verse.  Each.  Day.  Forces a long and awful pause beside the cross.

And so here I am.   Taking a drawn and grief-smacked look at the bloodied face of the One I love so much.

Oh King of my heart
I can almost smell Your wounds,
the Blood

No wonder they all ran away
The flesh-torn mess is sickening
I want to run

But this time
I'll not rush past,
averting my eyes
Instead
I'll stand here
for as long as it takes 
And stare a good long time
at Your face
Your eyes,
filled with blood
and grace
and pain
and unspeakable purity

And Love

slowly

dying.

John 19:30

When he had received the drink, Jesus said, "It is finished."  

With that he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

Photo Credit:  Dave Driver