The Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ

The weight of inevitability bore down as we crossed the Kidron Valley towards Gethsemane. Judas led the armed mob, their torchlight casting ominous shadows. Though I knew this had to happen, seeing my betrayer approach pierced my soul.

I stepped forward. “Who are you looking for?”
“Jesus of Nazareth.”
Sealing my fate, I proclaimed “I AM” – sending the crowd recoiling backwards. I pleaded they take only me and spare my beloved followers.

Peter drew his sword, slicing off Malchus’ ear. I rebuked him sharply. “I must drink this cup given by the Father.” Evil had to be defeated, no matter the sacrifice. I surrendered to the binding ropes.

Those corrupt hypocrites Annas and Caiaphas showed no hesitation condemning me to death. Their weathered faces twisted with rage as I remained silent like a lamb awaiting slaughter. They brand me a traitor, a king without a crown. But my kingdom, unlike theirs, is not built on power or earthly riches. It’s a kingdom of love, a promise of redemption.

By the time I faced Pilate’s court, night had fallen. Though he saw my innocence, political survival overruled justice. The bloodthirsty mob’s chilling chants still ring in my ears, “Crucify him! Crucify him!”

The brutal scourging shredded the flesh from my back, the agonising lashes leaving deep, oozing wounds. The vicious crown of thorns they roughly made pierced into my scalp, sharp bolts of pain shooting through my body with every mocking jeer and slap to the face. Yet these torments were mere prelude to the coming anguish.

Labouring under the immense weight of the cross’s wooden beam, every anguished step left its jagged surface scraping mercilessly across the bloody lacerations covering my back. The weight felt crushing as I staggered up Golgotha’s summit, leaving footprints of blood and sweat along the path.

On the cross, the pain is a searing fire. But even here, surrounded by suffering, love finds its voice. “Father, forgive them,” I whisper. Forgiveness, even for those who bring me to this place, is the essence of the message I carry.

Jeering onlookers surrounded my anguish as darkness shrouded the sky. My mother’s cries of grief tore through me. I entrusted her to John before crying out in utter desolation, “Why have you forsaken me?” Sin’s full weight consumed me, engulfing me in unimaginable anguish.

Finally, I breathed, “It is finished!” as death’s curse enveloped me and that pivotal moment separating the ages arrived.

As Joseph tenderly laid my lifeless form in the tomb before nightfall, I passed from death’s shadowed valley to the womb from which all creation would be reborn. Though the Architect of life now lay dead, the everlasting framework remained as Divine Love laboured to deliver new, everlasting realities that extend far beyond this temporal world. (Media Team)

The text above is an adaptation of the Gospel reading for Good Friday. For the actual scripture, please refer to the Catholic Daily Missal. This adaptation is intended purely as an aid for reflection.