THE CENTURION
I knew it when the earthquake came.
The day changed its face completely.
The darkness forced the birds to go to
roost! People carried lanterns to light
the pathways. I had never seen midnight
any darker, and I had never seen midnight
in the middle of the day! Over two hours
already and no sign of daybreak in the east.
So now what? All those tales these
superstitious people told had been true!
At the time, I had barely listened but
had retained what I had heard,and this,
was too much! What do I do? I never uttered
the name of God except in an expletive,
and this guy looked so ordinary—so like
any other man. How could I have known?
Should I stop the whole thing? I’m a
soldier and I’ve earned my way up the
ranks. Though I hold some power, that
position was gained by obeying orders.
I knew I couldn’t take it upon myself
to undo what they had ordered. I am only
a centurion.
Trembling, I sat down and watched. The
lightning flashed, illuminating His face.
In the flickering glare, I saw the suffering,
but I also saw the love. I even heard Him say,
"Forgive them, for they know not what they do."
I had never heard that one before. I was used
to filth spewing from these criminals’ mouths,
but…love? This was something new.
Now the darkness became even blacker. It wasn’t
just that the sun was gone, it was really dark!
Suddenly, the wind arose and the rain gushed in
torrents. The roaring wind, the cracking lightning,
the blinding flood—it seemed as though all of
nature was in mourning. The thunder came again.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the sign above
his head: "Jesus, King of the Jews." My heart
pounded. Was I executing a King? It was more
than that! Caesar himself could not have called
down this storm and certainly not the earthquake.
That realization settled it for me. He was more
than a King. That had been an area that I’d
completely avoided in all my studies. I preferred
not to clutter my brain with those superstitious
lies. What did it matter how this world came to be?
Who really cared? I was here, and I would do the
best I could with the one life I had. But if
someone created it, controlled it, cared about
it, well,that’s something I had never toyed with,
but now I wanted to know everything about it.
Where had God been all my life?
The night hadn’t been a good one anyway. I’d been
called to oversee the collection of some guy that
had hanged himself. The Jews take this week too
seriously, killing all those lambs, letting blood
until the Kidron is drenched in red. What a
strange people! And what a waste of good meat.
I had thought today would just be to oversee
the execution by crucifixion of two thieves.
Sometime in the night, though, they had thrown
this fellow in. So, I thought, what’s one more?
Three wouldn’t take any longer than two. But,
it turned out, this was no ordinary man. We
divided his few possessions. His robe was
seamless. Woven in one piece—quite a masterpiece—
no way to divide, so we cast the dice.
He spoke to no one until that thief said,
"Remember me when You come into Your Kingdom!"
and then He said, "Verily I say unto you,
today you shall be with Me in Paradise!"
The day had grown so dark that I couldn’t see
His face, but I heard Him cry out, his voice
choked and gasping:
"My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?"
I gripped my spear, feeling His agony twist my
heart. For a long moment, I thought I’d never
be able to get my own breath again. Thoughts
raced each other through my brain. When things
got back to normal, I promised myself to find
out more about this Man. Through the next hours,
sitting huddled in the rain, and trembling at
the trembling earth beneath, I watched it all.
He had directed his last words to only a few—
that thief, his friend John, his mother, and
some unseen force.
Finally, he lifted his head. Blood streamed
from the plaited crown of thorns, mixing with
rivulets of perspiration, tracing a checkered
pattern down his bruised cheeks. He strained
upward, his back arched, and looked toward
the sky, "Father,"He said,
his voice loud, triumphant,
“into Your hands I commend my spirit!"
I had never overseen a crucifixion like this.
We had Him down before the sun set, having
made certain of his death by thrusting a spear
into his side. We didn’t break His legs.
Suddenly,I didn’t want anything rash to
happen to this man. His soul was gone
(do we possess a soul?). No matter, I
would pursue that later. I told my soldiers
to be careful. Let Him down gently—
not the way we put Him up.
Already two men were standing by with proper
papers to take the body. I signed him over
to them. No one needed to tell them to be
careful. They handled this Man as if He were
Precious Stone! These men were in that high
court the Jews have—the Sanhedrin—I had seen
them both at the temple grounds and at the
palace.
The storm let up and the sky lightened. It was
strange, like having daybreak from the west.
We took our spoils and left. Never having been
one to appreciate ignorance, I knew I had a
lot of questions to be answered, but that would
come later.
I just thought I was through with the Man.
Only a couple of hours and the call came
to send guards to watch His tomb.
"Why would we need soldiers to guard a tomb?"
I had asked. They told me because of some
tales passed around by this Man’s friends,
and they were afraid of someone stealing
the body and then telling that He had risen
from the dead. What a riot that would cause!
It would have been better if they had left
this Jesus alive! Well, the men assigned
that job weren’t thrilled, but orders are
orders. I dispatched them, knowing they
would complain and be bored for a few days.
Meanwhile, I had plans for my free time.
I had stuffed the sign that had been above
His head into my pouch at my belt. I pulled
it out, dusted it off, and read the carved
words: "Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews."
Strange words for a criminal. Strange day.
Strange feelings in my heart, heavy and
calloused by the "orders" I had followed.
I felt that I was beginning a great
adventure for it had grown quite dark again,
and a definite chill filled the air. I
wrapped my cloak around my shoulders,
tucked the carved board under my arm and
started out in the night. Nicodemus had said
I could come any time. He’d told me that
he once made a midnight visit that had
changed his life. I would chance it, for
I had questions too great not to pursue!
Stepping out in the night air only brought
back the events of the afternoon. I really
expected the earth to tremble….
Then came the first day of the week. My
guards answered to me, but I answered to
Pilate. Even the Jews had set a guard at
the tomb, and the body was gone! I never
saw such scurrying! Money flew from all
directions—pay for us all to say His body
had been stolen! We knew better, for we
knew the penalty, but better to take the
bribe than to face the truth.
Someone had made a serious mistake, and
for my part, I knew I would never be the
same. Nicodemus had revealed some answers,
and I was on my way to learn more.
What would you have done if you had been
there? If you had seen the signs and heard
the jeers, felt the earth quake and seen
the day disappear? Heard kind words from
a man dying because you did your job? What
would you have done if you had been in
charge of the guard?
The door to my soul was open, and I could
not but follow, for He had truthfully said,
"They know not what they do....Father, forgive."
I know I need many answers, but until I get
them all, I will repeat what I said on that
hill,on that dark day:
"TRULY, THIS WAS THE SON OF GOD!"
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