JESUS, THE MAN OF SORROWS

The sun was sitting in all its strength on Friday afternoon, but a few hours before the ceremonies would kick off. That many were hurrying to the city, and human traffic was at its peak was part of the drama. But, despite the hustle and bustle, an event was playing out, and no one could claim not to notice. It was the 'prophet', the thorn in the flesh of the Temple's elders, bearing a cross. He was making his way to the place of the skull. There was noise and chatter alright, some mocking and jeering, others basking in the euphoria of the moment. Jesus' sympathizers were confused and sorrowful; he was bloodied, weary and worn. The creator of the world was being dragged by his creation, punished for the sins he did not commit and declared worthy of death by those who should be pleading for mercy. As far as the people knew, he was an impostor and needed to be rid of. They were doing just fine before he came to make strange claims and introduced unacceptable doctrine. Worse still, he had the crowd's interest and even got many to subscribe to his teachings. The temples were thinning out because congregants found the new sensation, and the priests and elders were miffed. They were losing face to the new itinerant preacher, which was hardly suitable for their exalted positions. Imagine the custodians of the book of the law could not discern that what they read daily was living among them. He had compelling presentations, and hearts were shifting by the droves. There was no denying the power that came with his speeches, and his followers could not be dissuaded. How does one person come on the scene and make nonsense of their essence?    Why fight who came to help you? Did you not know you needed a Savior? Why preach a message you do not believe in and cannot defend? Did you need to rubbish the person who claimed to know just because you don't? Questions I would love to ask the Pharisees and elders of the Temple if we get to see them. We may have already met. The ones in the days of Jesus may have since been long gone, but their descendants remain and have no problems carrying on the tradition.