One day, I was sitting with Rodleigh, the leader of the troupe, in his caravan, talking about flying. He said, “As a flyer, I must have complete trust in my catcher, The public might think that I am the greatest star of the trapeze, but the real star is Joe, my catcher. He has to be there for me with split-second precision and grab me out of the air as I come to him in the long jump.”

“How does it work?” I asked.

“The secret,” Rodleigh said, “is that the flyer does nothing and the catcher does everything: when I fly to Joe, I have simply to stretch out my arms and hands and wait for him to catch me and pull me safely over the apron behind the catchbar.”

“You do nothing!” I said, surprised.

“Nothing,” Rodleigh repeated. “A flyer must fly, and a catcher must catch, and the flyer must trust, with outstretched arms, that his catcher will be there for him.”

When Rodleigh said this with so much conviction, the words of Jesus flashed through my mind: “Father into your hands I commend my Spirit.” Dying is trusting in the catcher. To care for the dying is to say, “Don’t be afraid. Remember that you are the beloved child of God. He will be there when you make your long jump. Don’t try to grab him; he will grab you. Just stretch out your arms and hands and trust, trust, trust.”

Source: Henri J. M. Nouwen
“Our Greatest Gift: A Meditation On Dying And Caring” (Harper, 1994)

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In his allegory “The Singer”, Calvin Miller gives insight into the supernatural war that was waged in those days from the cross to the empty tomb. The Troubadour (Christ) brings a song of love to the world ruled by World Hater (Satan).

Later, as the Troubadour is being tortured, World Hater cries out to God, ” ‘Look how he dies. Cry, Creator, Cry! This is my day to stand upon the breast of God and claim my victory over love. You lost the gamble.

In but an hour your lover will be pulp upon the gallows. Did you tell him when his fingers formed the world, that he would die on Terra, groaning with his hands crushed in my great machine?’

“He laughed and turned to look again upon the Troubadour. ‘Now, who will sing the Father’s Song?’ he asked the dying man.”

Later in the story, Miller paints this scene:
“World Hater reached the threshold of eternity and found the doorway of the worlds, not only open, but clearly ripped away. He strained to hear the everlasting wail, the eternal dying which he loved. All was silent. Then he heard the Song.

“‘ No!’ he cried. ‘Give me back the door and key for this is my domain.’ He felt again and found the great key at his waist had disappeared.

“He steeled himself for the battle out ahead. He would have to fight the Song. He would fight with every weapon in his arsenal of hate.

“But he knew that he would lose. And he knew that when the course of time was done, the door would be put back upon the Canyon of the Damned, and he would be locked in with all the discord of the universe. . . .”

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I posted this last year, but it is worth the reminder. This article was originally printed in the Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA) and is a medically and historically accurate account of the physical death of Jesus Christ. It contains illustrations and walks through the events of the crucifixion from a medical perspective. Its very enlightening especially this time of the year when we contemplate the events around the easter celebration. This is a scan of the images and reformat of the original article. Only the formatting has been changed.

Click here to download the adobe acrobat PDF file [1.25 megabytes in size] from the website

Source:
“On the Physical Death of Jesus Christ”
William D. Edwards, MD; Wesley J. Gabel, MDiv; Floyd E Hosmer, MS, AMI
Reprinted from JAMA – The Journal of the American Medical Association
March 21, 1986, Volume 256
Copyright 1986, American Medical Association

If you don’t have Adobe Acrobat Reader, you can get it for free from here:
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There was some dice-throwing that went on at the foot of the cross…I’ve wondered what the scene must have looked like to Jesus…

‘All right, all right–this throw is for the sandals.’

Casting lots for the possessions of Christ. Heads ducked. Eyes downward. Cross forgotten…

It makes me think of us. The religious. Those who claim heritage at the cross. I’m thinking of all of us. Every believer in the land. The stuffy. The loose. The strict. The simple. Upper church. Lower church. ‘Spirit-filled.’ Millenialists. Evangelical. Political. Mystical. Literal. Cynical. Robes. Collars. Three-piece suits. Born-againers. Ameners.

I’m thinking of us.

I’m thinking that we aren’t so unlike those soldiers. (I’m sorry to say)

We, too, play games at the foot of the cross. We compete for members. We scramble for status. We deal our judgments and condemnations. Competition. Selfishness. Personal gain. It’s all there. We don’t like what the other did so we take the sandal we won and walk away in a huff.

So close to the timbers yet so far from the blood.

We are so close to the world’s most uncommon event, but we act like common crapshooters huddled in bickering groups and fighting over silly opinions.

How many pulpit hours have been wasted on preaching the trivial? How many churches have tumbled at the throes of miniscuity? How many leaders have saddled their pet peeves, drawn their swords of bitterness and launched into battle against brethren over issues that are not worth discussing?

So close to the cross but so far from the Christ…

Are our differences that divisive? Are our opinions that obtrusive? Are our walls that wide? Is it that impossible to find a common cause?

‘May they all be one,’ Jesus prayed.

One. Not one in groups of two thousand. But one in One. One church. One faith. One Lord. Not Baptist, not Methodist, not Adventist. Just Christian. No denominations. No hierarchies. No traditions. Just Christ.

Too idealistic? Impossible to achieve? I don’t think so. Harder things have been done, you know. For example, once upon a tree, a Creator gave his life for his creation. Maybe all we need are a few hearts that are willing to follow suit.”

Max Lucado – “No Wonder They Call Him Savior”

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