One On One: 100 Days With Jesus--PASSIONНамуна

Shepherd, part 3 & the One who walked through the valley of the shadow     

I was there when He came into the world and I was there when He left. 

A few weeks ago, my grandson and I talked with Rabbi Jesus in the temple court. “You know, David, a good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.” This morning I got word from Jerusalem He was doing just that. I immediately ran the five miles from Bethlehem straight to the old city. Near the Praetorium I heard, “Crucify Him, Crucify Him.” 

Is that Him? His body, so torn apart I couldn’t be sure. The Roman guard pushed the Rabbi off the ledge. He stumbled, weak and bloodied. A blow to His head sent Him to His knees. 

“Stop it! Don’t you know who He is?” I screamed.

“Get out of here, Sheep Dog” spit the guard. 

But Jesus lifted His swollen face and looked up at me, “David.”

They pushed Him inch by inch through the streets, a crossbeam pressing into His back. When He hesitated, they flogged Him more. Women hid their children as He passed. Others spit. Most shuddered at His wrecked body.

Finally, Jesus fell and laid still. The soldiers had tortured Him too much. To keep from killing Him before He could be executed, they drug a man from the crowd and shoved the crossbeam on his back. I rushed in, “please, let me help Him,” and they nodded. I took Jesus by the waist, threw His arm around my shoulder and lifted His almost dead weight to His feet. 

“Thank you, my friend.” His whisper hoarsely. Step by painful step, we walked. Every breath labored. Every touch painful. Every prophecy about His suffering was being fulfilled. He was the lamb to the slaughter. 

“How are things in Bethlehem?” Jesus’ words, an attempted distraction, lay low and close to my ear. 

“Let me tell you about Bethlehem, Rabbi.” I held His quivering side. “On the night you were born, we were in the field, my father and uncles and me, when the sky exploded with bright, beautiful angels. They shouted, ‘Glory to God! A Savior has been born to you; He is Mashiach, the Lord.’ And we ran over rocks and fields to where we found You with Your mother and Joseph. They looked so young—my age—and so tired and scared.”

“They were wonderful parents…”

“Easy now. Let me help you. Throw your weight on me.” My face beside His, I smelled a strong oil in His hair. I knew its scent. Myrrh—burial oil. My eyes burned with tears and sweat.

“You’re a good shepherd, David.” 

“Yes, Lord, I learned it from you. The Lord is my shepherd. I want no other.”

 “He makes me lie…down in…green pastures…He leads me beside…still waters.” 

“He restores my soul.”

“When I walk through . . . the valley of the shadow . . .. of death, I will fear no evil.” 

We turned the corner outside the gate and saw the prepared posts in the Place of the Skull. The soldiers waiting. Jesus moaned from deep inside. 

“The Father will give you strength, Jesus. Focus your eyes on the horizon, what’s ahead. You’re going home. And the angels will sing and shout again like they did for You in Bethlehem.”

“I just want to finish. I want to save. You’ll stay?” 

“Yes, I’ll stay. As long as it takes.” And with that, the guards threw us apart and Jesus crumbled to the ground. They swarmed Him with shouts and spikes and when they drove the nails into Him, His cry pierced my soul. 

I stood there in His line of vision all morning, and after noon when the darkness covered everything. I didn’t leave Him, no, not until they took His body down before the Sabbat trumpet sounded. Now, I walk home under the stars, my heart both full and grieving. I witnessed Jesus’ birth and now His death. I know exactly who He is. He is Mashiach, Savior of the world. 

Note: This is an imaginative rendering of Jesus’ walk to the Cross, but the lessons are true. When you can, walk with people in their suffering. In their moments of highest vulnerability let them hear God’s Word and as you share it, invite God’s Spirit to comfort them. Key passages are Psalm 23, Romans 8:16-17, John 14:1-4.

 Tomorrow: One on one with Jesus and the one who should have died