It is finished -- He said it on the cross. He's dead. They've buried Him.
Pilate released Barabbas and gave Jesus to be crucified. By the time He reached Golgotha He was unrecognizable. They beat Him, mocked Him and placed a crown of thorns on His head. Made Him carry His own cross, until there was no strength to raise Himself from the ground when He fell.
He was nailed to the cross, then it was raised. The thunk as it hit the bottom of the hole was drowned by thunder, but we could feel the ground shake. Then only the moans of those on the crosses could be heard.
The crowd stayed for a while, but soon grew tired of watching men die. The few taunts dwindled away as the storm grew stronger and darkness grew as though it were night. A few more words, then silence.
The women were standing near the cross, not knowing what to do. The soldiers had come to break His legs so that He would die quickly, but He already appeared to be dead, so they stuck a spear in His side to be certain.
Oh, you should have seen how Mary flinched to see her son so cruelly pierced. He had given her care to the disciple who would see to her every need. Mary spoke a moment of a king and myrrh -- we could not understand what she meant. She must need some to prepare the body. But there's no time tonight.
The bodies could not stay on the crosses, because it would soon be sabbath. Joseph of Arimathaea took Christ's body and placed it in his own tomb. The women will go to the tomb the first of the week and could use myrrh then.
What now? We've left our families, friends, our homes. Can we go back? There's nothing left to go back to. He's dead.
Today many of us live with failure of our own hopes and dreams. We've put our faith and our lives into the hands of people who disappoint and leave us in defeat. The depth of our despair matches that of our writer friend.
Have we not learned?