Peter followed at a distance. The others ran. Judas was counting his money.
The perfume from the night before still lingered on His head. His face covered in bloody dirt from praying face down while His friends slept. He didn’t resist arrest. He was on alert. He was paying close attention to details. He had a job to do. He was the only one that could do it.
The leaders were baffled that He didn’t even attempt to free Himself. They just didn’t fully understand Who they were dealing with.
He had given so many instructions to His disciples. He had poured it out on them like a fire hydrant opened fully and you trying to get a sip. No. Gulping is required. Eating up like a ravenous wolf. Devouring every word that was spoken. No time to rest. Rest will come at its due time.
But where were they now? Peter sat in the back peeking around big heads. Straining his neck and pulling it back in when asked his association with the prisoner. He slipped around the corner as if to hide. Then another asked. When asked the third time, he became indignant and denied again his brotherhood with Christ.
And then the rooster crowed. Loudly. Boisterously. That rooster may have well just pecked Peter’s eyes out because the denial punched him hard enough to bring him to his knees. Jesus had warned him about this very moment. And while Jesus was on trial, Peter was out back crying his eyes out because of his selfish behavior.
Judas even had remorse. He tried giving the money back. His deed had already been done. There was no taking back the deed that had to be done. He couldn’t live with what he had done.
But Jesus knew the deed was required. For every human the deed was necessary.
As the party continued, Jesus waited quietly. While the crowd cheered, “Crucify Him!” Jesus waited patiently.
I would have been locked up in a house, peeking through the curtains. Making sure they didn’t move as I peeked through because I wouldn’t want anyone seeing or knowing of my presence. I would go back and forth checking Facebook and watching the latest press conference wondering what lie I was being fed this time. I wouldn’t be on the front row. I wouldn’t be fighting on the front lines. I would be behind closed doors, hiding.
That is a hard confession. But this isn’t my story.
The rowdy crowd cheered as Jesus was beaten and spat upon. They lined the road as if watching a parade as He was led to Golgotha. Surely some were splattered when the hammer hit the nail. Gruesome. But aren’t we all splattered?
And the world went dark.
Jesus hanging on a splintered tree. The earth shook. The women watched from a distance. And one man decided He needed a proper burial. That large stone wasn’t large enough.
Jesus took care of what no one else could. He satisfied the penalty of eternal damnation. He finished what He started. He took what I deserve. He stood in my place. He alone is strong enough to endure what I can’t.
He took all the sin. He took it and abolished it. He crushed it. He covered it in His blood and washed it clean. He made it as if it never happened.
His love, so great, that He received the wrath of God in my place.
