I arrived early at the church, intending to beat the parking
lot rush and to give myself time to read and reflect on this afternoon’s
memorialized events. I prayed many of my
usual prayers, but then I decided to read the meditations for today’s Gospel,
as presented in the book The Better Part.
The meditations there often open my heart to new insights,
but the one today struck deeply, like the lance in Jesus’ side. I’m sure I’ve read it before, but today it
read me.
The meditation (p981-2) presents the thoughts of one of the
soldiers who was guarding Jesus as He was being tortured:
I was there that day. I watched
it all happen. --- But above all, I watched Jesus. The whole universe caved in on this man and
he stood firm, not just physically, which was miraculous enough, but in his
mind and his spirit. I have seen
criminals go insane after scourging. I
have seen fearless prisoners beg and whimper for mercy under the shadow of the
cross. I have seen pagan kings prostrate
themselves like sycophants at the feet of our Roman governors. But I have never seen a man withstand such a
raging storm of malice with such inner strength and outward composure. No, “withstand” is not the right word. It was as if he were commanding that storm. It broke upon him because he wanted it to.
The more I watched, the more it mesmerized me. And then he caught my eye. They were taking him away to pick up his
cross. He passed beside me. He turned to look at me. I froze.
I have never spoken to or laid eyes on him before that morning, but when
he saw me, somehow, I knew that he knew my name. And his gaze addressed me in my conscience,
where no one goes but me. It said, “Don’t you know me? Don’t you recognize me yet? I am the one you have been looking for, the
one you can trust.”
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