AN ON-LOOKER AT CALVARY
They dragged Him out through the city gates.
I saw the women crying.
I heard the jeers that fell like blows
On this One they were crucifying.
Compelled to carry His own cross
He fell beneath the weight,
No doubt weakened through loss of blood
And wounds of spiteful hate.
His ‘crime’ was claiming to be our King
The Son of God some say
But … why would God permit Him to die,
And in such a shameful way?
The Roman soldiers nailed Him down
With a thief on either side,
Two felons who deserved their fate.
At least they were justly tried
But this man … they must have trapped Him
The Pharisees and the Scribes,
Persuading Pontius Pilate
With flatteries or bribes.
Yet as they watched Him, gloating
At the success of their evil plan,
There came the most shocking utterance
From the lips of the dying man.
Lifting His marred and bloodied face
(He was near to death, I knew)
He prayed “Father, forgive them
For they know not what they do.”
I scarce could believe I had heard Him
Making such a gracious plea,
But the most unsettling thing was this –
As He prayed, He looked straight at me!
(c) Nesta F Sutherland
For all have sinned …