Golgotha (Place Of The Skull)









"The first form is darkness, the second desire, the third ignorance, the fourth is the excitement of death, the fifth is the kingdom of the flesh, the sixth is the foolish wisdom of flesh, the seventh is the wrathful wisdom. These are the seven powers of wrath."
~from The Gospel According to Mary Magdalene








GOLGOTHA
("Place of the Skull")




Footsteps.

Dirt.
Dirt Everywhere.
Dirt in the mouth, the eyes, the hair, the clothes.
Never to be clean again.
echo


Stench.
Stench Everywhere.
Unwashed flesh, manure, and Fear.
And Hope.
Fear smells sharp, like steel.
Hope smells soft, like the finest fabric.
echo

Sound.
Sound Everywhere.
Voices, muted, but never silenced.
Lows and brays and grunts and neighs, and
The sound of footsteps.
Thousands of footsteps.
Pounding.
echoCan block out the voices.
Can ignore the stench.
Can even get used to the dirt.
The footsteps are never-ending.
The ground shakes. The head pounds.
The sound, like nails hammering into wood.
echo

Nearing the city
40,000 strong.
Thousands more lining the gates.
The path.
Our path.
Waving those branches, like a coronation.

The city is alive.
It feels alive.
The city cries, it begs.
The city Fears.
It Hopes.

Four more days.
Cannot think about that now.
Must smile.
Must own their Fear.
Must bring them Hope.
Must be their Hope.

Four more days.

Footsteps.



MEAL

The room smells sharp, not soft.
Hope is gone, squeezed away by four days of hiding, of uncertainty.
Squeezed out by the Fear.

Four days of hiding, leading to this night.
Seven weeks of planning, leading to this night.
Three years of teaching, leading to this night.
Thirty-three years of living, leading to this night.
Four thousand years of history, leading to this night.
All of time and creation, leading to this night.

Leading to tomorrow.

The bread and the wine.
The look in their eyes.
Try to explain.
They do not understand.
They will not understand.
They cannot understand.

The bread smells soft, unleavened as it is,
It still smells and tastes soft.
The wine tastes sharp.

More talking.
They position. They maneuver.
They never stop that.
Even after three years of teaching, they never stop.
They smell sharp, except the one.
He smells cold.
Wet.
Not sharp.
Not soft.
Cold.


GARDEN

Heat.
Sweat.
The city boils, threatens to explode.
Even the garden feels the heat.

Discussion.
Intense.
Not the way I'd planned it.
Not the way John and I drew it up.
Maybe He did.
So much I did not understand until a few weeks ago.
So much I still do not understand.

Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?

If He's so powerful, why not just change it?

Why go through the charade?

They have fallen asleep again.
Tonight, of all nights....
Want to laugh, if only to keep from crying.

Commotion at the gate.
Footsteps pounding.
It begins.
The air is sharp with the smell of Fear.
It is not just them.
It is me.
Can taste blood.

Flicker
Trial
Flicker
Cell
Flicker
Candlelight
Flicker
Inspection
Flicker
Jeering
Flicker
Pronouncement

Block it out.
Does not matter.
The Choice has been made.
Almost home.


MORNING

Pain.
Searing, stabbing, scalding.
Pain.
Bruising, Breaking, Battering.
Pain.

Agony.

Pain
Want it to stop
Pain
Cannot speak
Pain
Part of the Plan

DON'T SPEAK!

Pain
Please
Pain
If you can hear me
Pain
If you can hear my thoughts
Pain
Please make it stop...

If only for awhile.

It stops.
Mouth tastes sharp.
Body feels soft.
Cold.
They wrap a robe of the finest fabric around me.
Would thank them.
Cannot open my mouth.

Wait a minute...
The Robe...
WAIT!
You cannot take the robe!

BLACKOUT

Slapped back awake.
Eyelids swollen; can barely see.
What is that?
My God;
My God....can you see that?
Can you stop it?
Not this.
This is not necessary.
It is a crown.
Of thorns.

Why?
Why this?
What point is proved?
They are bringing it to my head.
DO SOMETHING.






Footsteps.
Dirt.
Stench.
On a path.
Eyes are slits. Cannot see much.
Where am I?
Pain.
Pain so great, almost cannot feel it.
Something heavy on my back.
What is it?
Dragging me down.
Stumble. Fall.
Jerked up.
My God, am I naked under this robe?

The crowd jeers.
Some wave those branches.
Mocking me.
What a difference a week makes.

Shame so great I can smell it.
Never felt shame before.
It smells sour.
I can barely sense you.
Must be the pain.

We have stopped.
We must be there.


GOLGOTHA

Three posts standing in the ground.
I remember now.
I know what we are here for.
Strength is gone.
Hope is gone.
Even the shame is fading, under the pain.

And so is the Fear.

Cannot stand upright.
Cannot cover myself.
Cannot make it stop.
But I can still show them.

Cannot walk, but I can crawl.
Crawling to the beam.
They do not have to hold me down.
I stretch out my own arms.
See the shock in their eyes.
A touch of pity.
Maybe just a little respect.
Do not forget who I am!

The nails.
Oh, God!
My God, you must help me with this.
The Fear is back, but I cannot let them see it.
The footsteps.
The Pounding.
Yes.
It comes now.


HOUR 1
Pain close to the edge.
Keep blacking out.
Why did they bring my mother?
This what my brothers do, and
I am leaving her in their care?
You are leaving the world in their care?


HOUR 2
Pain so bad, it feels sickly sweet
I understand now, why this place is called Golgotha.
I always thought it was to be scary.
It is not until you get up here that you see it.
I would laugh, if I did not think it would kill me.


HOUR 3
Something is happening.
The pain had taken all other sensations;
But my skin--what is left of it--prickles.
What is happening?
Feels...wrong.

Can feel a small boy
Stealing honey cakes
The sweet taste
Worried he would get caught
I would get caught
Lecture from dad.
Feels...wrong.

Standing on top of my roof.
Where am I?
There is a woman on the next roof, unclothed.
Cannot look!
Why am I looking?
No!
I feel....I want her
I am lusting after her.
This is not possible.
What is happening?
Lust.
Rage.
Deceit.
Lies.
Murder.

Guilt.

I strike a man down, in cold blood.
The moment he falls there is another.
And another.
And another.

I tear at her clothes.
Push her to the ground.
On top of her.
Inside her.
And another.
And another.

Every time, I feel the sweet rush they feel
Every time, I feel their shame.

Their guilt.

I am become their guilt.

I am become GUILT.

It goes on.
It does not stop.
Hundreds, into thousands, into too many to count.
They do not blend into each other.
Each one I feel anew.

This is Sin.

I am become their Sin.

I am become SIN.

WAIT.

New feeling.
Just past the sickening Guilt of their--of MY--Sin,
I feel something else.

IT IS YOU.

I hear footsteps.

You are moving.
You are moving away.
Away from me.

Wh...Where....Where are you going?
You cannot leave me like this!
This Sin, this Guilt, is worse than even the pain.
My God, My God, please do not leave me.

Father! I am begging you.
Stay with me.
I can make it, if I have you here with me.
FATHER!
Daddy! Daddy, please do not leave me!
@@@



You are gone.
I remember now.
I understand.
The footsteps.
The Dirt.
The Skull.
Golgotha.
I understand.

I am become SIN,
The Final Price is paid.
Goodbye, Father.
Bye, Daddy.



"It is finished."




Hyperion
Originally posted April 10, 2009




See all of this year's Easter-themed posts: Easter Parade







Sabachthani

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