Chapter 8: The Way of Sorrows

The jeering mob swarmed like flies as Jesus was stripped and bound to the center post of Golgotha. Though virtual, Michael felt every blow and scrape of wood on flesh and every drop of spilled blood as though it were his own.

Above the chaos, vultures already sensed impending doom and circled broodingly. Below, the crowd writhed and shouted for crucifixion, condemning their true king that they might salvage a semblance of control. All around, the hot valley was dotted with the rotting corpses of past victims, abandoned to a carrion feast amid jutting bones.

As Jesus was hoisted skyward, an unearthly stillness fell over all except his ragged breathing. Then, in a voice like shattered timber, came the first words: Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.

Michael gazed up in awestruck grief. How could such purity and mercy exist, even now at death's threshold? But he knew it was no mere man dying there, but God himself, extending the final olive branch, though nails pierced his wrists and thorned his brow.

As hours passed into an eternity of agony, lamenting women and the Beloved Disciple stood vigil at the foot of the cross amid jeering priests. Jesus spoke to his mother tenderly, and the repentant thief was granted immediate paradise.

At the ninth hour, darkness fell, unlike any night. And with agony rending the heavens themselves, Jesus cried out, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Before his final strength of breathing was finished, he commended his spirit into the waiting arms of his Father.

Then, with violence shaking the very earth, God rent the veil, separating all from his presence. In that moment, the thrice-holy One was separated from sin by the black gulf of humanity's evil, fully imputed. And Paradise's gates were swung wide for all souls once exiled, as the work of redemption was accomplished completely at Calvary.

As Michael stared up in traumatized wonder, the full scope of Golgotha's meaning hit him with the force of a tsunami. Never again could he see the cross as a mere execution device; it was the axis on which all creation turned and the portal to life eternal through the Lord's outstretched arms. Here divine and human are fully embraced in a wedding of heaven and earth, changing all things forevermore.

The centurion's confession rang clearly: Truly, this man was the Son of God. As darkness fled and the shuttered land stirred again, those first to the tomb found it empty, for death could no longer claim the Lord of all life.

And though sunset neared, Michael knew days would pass before comprehending all that was sealed upon that hill. For now, only tears remained as he gazed up through history at the love manifest forever for a fallen race. At Golgotha's foot, faith had been winnowed to bedrock and found itself unshakeable as the very stones on which it all was built. Here stood the fortress and bulwark of all souls against the black tides of this life, and soon the sunrise of the next eternal day would dawn...