Can you imagine? Can you even begin to feel the kind of horror, sickness, and shock that came upon the Roman soldiers who realized... they have just brutally murdered the very Son of God.
The One who made them. The One who gave them the voices they used to wound his spirit; the hands they used to wound his ravaged body. The One who is suffocating on that piece of wood to save their dead souls.
And they tortured him to death.
What is this that we have done? I cannot forgive or forget it.
Just another crucifixion... an ordinary moment.
Before God tore open the sky. And their souls.
Can the silence erase the memory? Can we ever forget this... can we just cover up what we have done...?
They kept quite. The only way to hide. (See Matthew 28:11-15)
Pray for the day when the truth will make us pay...
The day of judgment. "What have you done to My Son?" Only the very blood that they shed can redeem their shame and guilt.
The silence has become the end of us.
The sickening silence after His lungs and heart gave up the struggle for life. After the sky was darkned and the earth shook. After the Man cried out his last breath... and was gone.
"...The centurion, and they that were with him, watching Jesus... feared greatly, saying,
'Truly, this was the Son of God.'"