Jesus Of Nazareth: A Short Story

I look around. The town is quiet, the streets are empty. I look around. Creation is still. The trees do not move, the birds do not sing. A dirty grey rests on the sky above. I stand at the bottom of the battered hill called Golgotha. Distant groans of a man on the hill echo over the heavy silence. He has been deeply disturbing me. The sound he makes is grotesque and unrelenting; the soldiers must be giving Him some extra punishment. He has been making the noise since early morning. I am supposed to be buying bread for lunch for the family. Yet I stand here and listen. It is just another crucifixion; I do not know the man. I can see the figure on the frame in an unnatural composition; Rome’s signature artwork. There is a small group of people with Him at the top of the hill, perhaps they have come to mock Him.
I decide to make my way up, just to see what the soldiers are doing to Him. If I go quickly I will still …show more content…
I know this man; He is Jesus of Nazareth, called son of God. I‘ve heard of so many amazing things that He has done. Surely He does not deserve to die. Not in this horrible and disgusting way. He does not deserve this.
Wait I was there. I was at His trial yesterday in the town centre at midday. The whole town was there. I’m sure it was Him. Pilate could find no fault in Him and wanted to release Him. The crowd was possessed. “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!” they chanted. I was in the crowd. But it was them not I who wanted Him dead. I did not know Him. I wanted Him alive. I did. I would have called out but no one would have heard me over the crowd. I’m sure I would have.
In front of me Jesus lifts His head. He looks at me, His mouth quivering. Is He smiling at me? No. He can’t be. It must be muscle spasms. I turn my head away. He begins to moan. I hear words. “Father, forgive them they do not know what they are doing.” He looks to the sky. “Father, receive my spirit.” There is