Beat, Beat

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed.
Isaiah 53:5 (NIV)

Beat, beat.

And her heart would tear, as she gazed upon the cross through watering eyes.
Hers were the arms that rocked him to sleep, hers the voice that sang in his ear.
Her precious son was trussed up on wooden beams like a hardened criminal -
mocked, battered, beaten and scourged.
Oh how she longed to hold him once again,
to cradle his head close to hear heart and wipe away his tears.
What he had done to deserve this she could not tell
for he had spoken love, he had preached forgiveness and he had lived service
Surely there was an answer, surely another way
But the heavens were silent. No answer today.
Beat, beat.

Beat, beat.

And their little hearts raced, as the children ran around at the foot of the cross.
They chased each other up and down the hillside, oblivious that their Lord was crucified.
For them he had come, or so he said,
and like no one before he had showed them kindness.
One of them turned and shielded his eyes against the morning sun as he squinted to see,
Was that not “The Man”, he wondered, whom he had boasted to his friends about?
For a few weeks earlier the one they called “Rabbi”
had held him close and comforted him and had told his disciples to look after him1
It was a special moment, the best of his life.
But that was a few days back and he could not be sure right now,
for the blood and the grime had sullied his face.
“Tag, you’re ‘It’”, the other children cried,
and off he went again, chasing after them.
Beat, beat.

Beat, beat.

And he tossed and turned as the words kept ringing in his ears:
“What is truth?” he had asked the prisoner and now, finally, he knew that he knew.
Had his wife not warned him, “Pilate, have nothing to do with that righteous man”?
Had his voice not shaken as he pronounced Barabbas free?2
But now it was too late and the Truth was on a cross
and all the Governor could do was toss and turn.
Beat, beat.

Beat, Beat.

And his heart skipped one,
as blood drained from the soldier’s face.
“Truly this was the Son of God”, his confession,3
as his charge hung helpless on the cruel cross.
He had joined in the laughing, the mocking and the spitting.
He had crowned the prisoner with thorns, thinking it was only jest.
But now as creation rebelled he knew at once:
Truly this was the Son of God, and his heart skipped again.
Beat, beat.

Beat, beat.

And he wished it would stop,
for his heart kept him alive while he wished it would not.
His lips had denied his Master and friend
and he had lied to a servant girl.
The look on His face had said it all,
when the Master had glanced at him while the cock crowed.4
In His eyes he saw forgiveness, not anger or judgement,
and yet the burden of guilt was too much to bear.
Oh how he wished he could take back his words
for Jesus had always been there for him.
He had healed his mother, he had saved his brother.
He had changed his life and taught him to live better
But here and now, all that seemed lost.
And he bowed his head and wept again.
Beat, beat.

Beat, beat.

And His heart was full of love
for the people who had gathered round.
As he looked around at the world beneath,
He knew it was finished and salvation was won.
“John, here’s your mother”, he told his best friend,
who cradled and comforted His mom as she cried.5
The calls of the children came to his ears
and He smiled as he recalled the little boy’s surprise.
“Let the children come!”, He had insisted,6
for they were precious to Him and He loved them so much.
And every word He had heard he recalled,
every touch, every scent.
His experience of mortality was close to an end
but he would need to remember to represent Man after death.
Pilate, the Centurion and his friend Peter were not too far gone
if they could but open their eyes and see -
He was the Way, the Truth and the Life
and this was the moment for which He came.
Beat, beat.

Beat, beat.

“It is finished!” He cried, when he came to the end7
A cry of victory, the shout of a King.
The lamb had died, the pain was finished
Sin had been conquered and salvation was won.
Beat, beat.

And it beat no more.

With love, Doosuur.

Scripture references:
1Mark 9:36,37; 2Matthew 27:15-26; 3Matthew 27:54; 4Luke 22:54-62; 5John 19:25-27; 6Mark 10:14; 7John 19:30