GOOD FRIDAY, LONG AGO

This is one day I will never forget. I had to oversee three crucifixions. That was not unusual in itself—I’ve had that duty more times than I care to remember. I’ve spent longer days at Golgotha, but today I clocked six hours and it was over.

We got there at 9:00 a.m., and it was business as usual. Nail them down; lift them up. I don’t even blink anymore when the nails are pounded in. I used to when I was a young soldier, but now, after hundreds of them, it’s just a job. I hate saying this, but you get calloused.

But today was different. When we drove the nails into the hands of Jesus, things stopped being normal or usual. That’s the moment when I would get cursed, spit at. But Jesus asked his father to forgive us. Can you believe that? We usually drug the victim to dull the pain a little bit, but he would not have it.

Then he said something strange to one of the others being crucified, some promise about being in paradise today. What an amazing thing for one dying man to say to another. Next he made sure his mother was cared for. Toward the end he shouted, “It is finished,” as if he were some sort of victor. And at 3:00 he told his father, “Into your hands I commit my spirit.” It sounded like “mission complete, I’m coming home.”

But there was more. Just when we sat down to eat lunch it became completely dark. There were no storms forecast, but right there at high noon, bam! It got dark and there was an earthquake. I heard later that the temple curtain had torn right in half, top to bottom.

And right then the Spirit of God convinced me that the man I had put to death was no ordinary man. I knew in that moment that He was the Son of God. I knew He was on that cross to pay the debt I owed, even I, who pounded those nails in, am forgiven.