Source: The Passion of the Christ Movie
It's already well past Midnight.
In yet a few hours from now, he'd be drawing His last breath...this my "new" Friend.
I'm seated now very close to his feet, thoughts aswirl as He urges me to write amidst the palpable, gnawing pain He's so gracefully enduring.
I breathe in deeply, not bold enough to look directly His way.
Undoubtedly, there would be no sleep tonight: For either of us.
Several minutes ago; earlier in the day... I watched the weather confirm what the day signified, marveling that every year held the same sober-filled awe for me; circumstances regardless...
I donned my all-black attire proudly as I marched on to my duty-post.
Apparently, I'm on my way to cannulate and administer IV Meds, but in reality, I had journeyed back to the familiar definite, summoning thundering's of Fr. Adebayo's voice from over a decade ago...
"In Pilate's hands...I see my Father's Will.
It is true that Pilate is unjust; but He is The Lawful Governor.
If I would bow to Pilate's rule because this is My Father's Will...
"CAN YOU REFUSE OBEDIENCE TO THOSE WHOM I HAVE PLACED OVER YOU?"Long after the 14 stations with intermittent kneeling, pondering, inevitable LOUD SILENCE and eventuality detailing the agony series of the Sorrowful Mysteries...I would recall my misdeeds obvious and covert, albeit with genuine remorseful tears.
While as a Child I sought forgiveness from many, as an adult I seek the grace TO FORGIVE a critical few...
We do not readily agree; this my "new" Friend and I...and even now from where He "hangs", barely able to speak...He's reading my thoughts and telling me "What" and "What-not" to write.
He's urging me to focus, to not miss the point.
I rummage through the cluster of thoughts, and it seems He permits me now to write this...
But His breathing seems to be waning... the serosanguinous drops have formed a clotting pool. He's never been alone up until this dreadful hour...I wonder that He allows me to sit this close, seeing all His vulnerability firsthand.
All have played their roles beautifully with one winding up "where the Cock crew" and another "in the field of Akeldama".
"Write! it's almost time...";"He" expels in an exhausted whisper.
I find my keys...and say the very words He taught me today... (totally different from my original script...)
"I feed and instruct the multitude...but not so my friends".
With my friends there are no airs, no acts, no secrets.
Just service...in Spirit and in Truth.
Pray for your friends as you watched me pray for Peter.
I had argued that Friends have hurt far more than foes; to which He said simply:" It's The Way of The Cross; take up yours and follow Me; in so doing you urge others to do same.
But what if I don't want to carry any cross kwanu?... This your "friendship" is stressing me.
"I Choose my Friends and Call them; long before they know Me; the Multitude I attract for I am Light."
You are my Friend...not the "Multitude"...and stop arguing so much and write.
Even on The Cross we're still arguing; me and this my "New Friend".
He won't let me go. He won't let me look at His suffering...let me at least observe His vitals till the appointed Hour...
We need to argue some more but He's really very weak and now's not a good time.
His sorrow's drenching Him...and soon enough He'd be gone...
"It's 2:52am Kenechukwu... remember all I've taught you..."
At this point, tears flow down my tightly shut eyes...He'd been preparing me for this moment time and again and yet every single time I cry ceaselessly as though there was no hope of His return...of His enduring presence.
I brace myself as I hear Him scream in anguish:
"ELOI! ELOI!!"
LAMA SABACTHANI!!!!...3:00am sharp.
I hear the silent drop of His head, and I know with utmost certainty my "new friend" had left this cruel world.
He didn't give me the opportunity to certify Him dead clinically...
I mourn Him; the man called Jesus.
His Ally, The Comforter was lurking in the corner, bidding me to do the needful.
I open my eyes to find myself seated in the consulting room.
All are asleep in no painful distress, but I'm wide awake in flowing tears...
"Likita,ya Mai jikin?...akwayi masala?"
"Baa masala Maigida... baa masala...I say as reassuringly as I could muster.
"Ka ji rani; i na-zuwa".
"Toor shikena."he says as he returns to his sleeping position.
I stroll away from his presence, some distance towards moonlight.
Soon the Cock would crow, and usher in the resurrection Morning.
In the meantime, it sure is a cold silent "un-Bethlehem-like" night.
The Beginning.