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Death of a rebel

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Proclamer et défendre la foi en Jésus Christ // Proclaiming and defending faith in Jesus Christ
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Death of a rebel

A Good Friday poem

Rick Conrad
Apr 2, 2023
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Death of a rebel

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Stripped and thrown down to the ground
My insides twist in fear
As anger burns inside my chest

Hands of Roman cowards, swine
Cold metal, lancing pain
They pin me to the wood
Helpless rage courses in my veins
And spews forth from my mouth
I curse as I have always cursed
A life of blood and bitterness

Three of us hang side by side
My friend and I
And the one they call the Son of God
The one they hate as no one else
The mob and the priests they mock and jeer
And give themselves to gleeful spite
"Let the Messiah come down from the cross
  That we may see and believe!"

The Son of God lifts up his gaze
To heaven
"Father forgive them!
  For they know not what they do."
What does he think he's doing?
With all I am I hate the Son of God
Like no one else that I have hated
Except God

"Aren't you the Messiah?
  What use are you!
  You call yourself the Savior?
  Jews are crucified every day,
  And you don't save any of them"
I curse as I have never cursed
My chest heaves as my life
Trickles from every wound
A life of blood and bitterness
Boils over

The Son of God
Hangs and breathes
And holds his peace

My friend picks up where I left off
And showers on him every curse
The Son of God his silence keeps
More sheeplike than a son of man

Ukherahel lifne gozezeyha ne'elamah velo yiftah piv
The words unbidden rise in my mind
As from the darkness of a well
"Like a sheep before its shearers is silent,
  So he opened not his mouth."
The voice of the synagogue lector
From days long past
Echoes in my thoughts

I look again at the Son of God
His lips are moving in silent prayer
Bitter irritation snaps inside
Why does he play at piety?
What use is God to men like us?

My friend continues tireless
To heap abuse on the Son of God
Who nothing says
A dog at least will snarl and bite
But he is a worm and not a man

Ve'anokhi thola'ath velo-'ish
"But I am a worm and not a man
  All who see me mock me"
Again I look at the Son of God
As blood trickles down from the thorns of his crown
He is contemptible, and yet
I suddenly see the flame within
And realize that in that haggard face
The eyes are David's eyes

~

And still my friend
Keeps up the stream
"What use are you?
  Some 'Son of God!'
  You heal the blind and raise the dead
  Why can't you save yourself?
  Why can't you save us too?
  Or at least get killed in battle
  You're the worst Messiah yet!

Kullanu katson ta'inu va'adonay hifgia' bo 'eth 'avon kullanu
Again the long forgotten words
Spring nimbly to my thought
"All we like sheep have gone astray
  And the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.
  Although he had done no violence
  And there was no deceit in his mouth."
The holy words burn in my mind
As a flood of shame sweeps away my rage
I want to hide my blood-stained hands
And cover the foulness of my lips
But I am hanging on this tree
And all my shame laid bare to see

And still my friend is railing on
Shameless even at the end
And I can bear no more

"Would you shut up!"
  Don't you know we ought to die?
  Don't you remember what we've done?
  But as for him, this Son of God
  He should not be hanging here!"

He looks at me, the Son of God
Looks steadily into my eyes
"Lord will you remember me?
  When you do sit on your throne
  Will you remember how we hung
  And died together side by side?"

"Today," he said, "I promise you,
  You'll be with me in Paradise."

And for a moment oh so brief
I don't feel iron in my flesh
I don't feel the dryness of my mouth
Or smell the sticky blood
His promise spoke with lordly grace
Like the ringing of a bell
Lifts up my heart and all my shame
Slides away

Favor unlooked for
And undeserved
Shatters the weapons of my heart
The hopeless struggle of my life
Fury against men and fury against God
Is over
And peace unexpected blossoms in my chest

Pain resurfaces
Burns my limbs and grips my chest
But no longer rules my heart
And I feel somehow I would not trade
My place beside the Son of God
Against the palace of a king

~

Darkness falls on us at noon
And the cold wind stings our helpless flesh
The Son of God shudders

The hours pass; we breathe and bleed
Our bodies cling to fragile life

The Son of God is very pale
His breathing weak and ragged
They give him a drink and he lifts his gaze
To heaven
"Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!"

The Son of God collapses
His lifeless head hung low

With a roar the earth shudders and heaves
Thunder crashes and the crowd falls to the ground
Panic seizes me by the throat
I am naked before the wrath of God!
I close my eyes while the whole world reels
While the Fury passes through

~

Quiet returns
I hang, I breathe
Alone as I have never been
Time stretches out
I hang, I breathe
Alone and cold
With the body of the Son of God

A messenger arrives
Discussion among the soldiers
One takes up a mallet
And heads for my old friend
My gut turns with sudden horror
A swing, a crack, a ragged scream

Now he makes his way toward me
Animal fear crawls on my skin
Hanging watching helplessly
My shin explodes and far away
I hear my voice announce my pain
My shattered legs collapse beneath
My broken body hangs by the hands
My mouth gapes in futility
My heart in panic thuds
Louder and louder in my ears
As the world recedes

I see nothing
Feel only the wood at my back
And as that too fades away
I hear a distant voice

The Son of God is singing

~

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