Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the governor’s headquarters, and they gathered the whole cohort around him. They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and after twisting some thorns into a crown, they put it on his head. They put a reed in his right hand and knelt before him and mocked him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” They spat on him, and took the reed and struck him on the head. After mocking him, they stripped him of the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.
Jesus was exhausted and trembling under the weight of the cross-beam. He could not take it any longer and fell to the ground, face down in the dust and dirt of the well-traveled path. Someone jerked him up from his moment’s rest and prodded him on. And the world stands and watches, seemingly unmoved by the visceral treatment of one who was once so renowned. “Hail, King of the Jews”, now fallen, now face down in the dust and dirt of the well-traveled path.
Where are we? Do we lay there in the pathway of forgotten footprints? Do we stand by the sidelines too afraid to move? We must get up and get going. It is time to follow. Father, forgive.
Jesus, may your courage be my stamina for getting up again and again, realizing that only the weak fall once. In the name of the One who raises me up on eagle’s wings. Amen.
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