“How can love die? Your mother and father always loved you, didn’t they?” She left the room without answering. Adas was sorry for asking the question.
Young Adas asked his father about the gods. “Son, you have to make your own way and take responsibility. Divine intervention is not going to save or ruin you. You must be the master of your own life. Let experience be your guide, not the mutterings of soothsayers for hire.”
Forcing himself back to the present, Adas retrieved his wineskin and some bread from his knapsack. As he ate, he could hear Demas struggling to talk to the Nazarene. At first the robbers baited Yeshua challenging him to prove himself. But now Demas was listening to Yeshua and his anger dissolved. The two talked as best they could as Adas listened, increasingly fascinated. He wondered how the Nazarene had the strength to talk so calmly and at such length.
He heard the thief say, “Then you are the final blood sacrifice, Yeshua. Why didn’t I understand this before?”
The other criminal was listening, too. He spit words from his mouth as if they were sawdust, “If you are the Christ, save yourself and us!”
Demas called out, “Do you not even fear God, seeing you are under the same condemnation? And we indeed justly, for we receive the due reward of our deeds; but this Man has done nothing wrong. Lord, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.”
Yeshua answered, “Today you will be with Me in paradise.”
Adas was astonished at the audacity of the Nazarene’s statement. He studied the sign posted above his head: Jesus of Nazareth—the King of the Jews. There was no chance he could misunderstand the message since it was written in Hebrew, Latin and Greek. He thought of the stories of this man healing sick and crippled people, and bringing the dead back to life. At the time, he thought it was exaggeration. But what if it were true? What if the Nazarene was divine? But if so, how could he allow himself to be crucified, the most degrading form of execution?
Yeshua spoke to one of the women and to the only man in the group of grieving followers. She turned to the man and cried, her head sagging against his shoulder, her hands covering her face.
Suddenly Yeshua lifted his head and cried out, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?”
Jamin knew he was quoting from the Book of Psalms. He often recited these same verses after his family was murdered. “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me? Why are You so far from saving Me, so far from the words of My groaning? I am poured out like water, and all My bones are out of joint. My heart has turned to wax; it has melted away within Me. . . .a band of evil men has encircled Me, they have pierced My hands and My feet.. . .people stare and gloat over Me. They divide My garments among them and cast lots for My clothing.” Jamin realized everything in this Psalm, written hundreds of years ago, was happening to Yeshua.
Yeshua cried out, “I thirst!” Adas dipped the sponge into a jar of wine vinegar. When he raised the sponge on a stick, Yeshua looked him directly in the eye. The centurion blinked in surprise at the intensity of the man’s expression.
A few observers cried out, “Let Him alone; let us see if Elijah will come to save Him.” Adas ignored them and concentrated on holding the stick as steadily as he could.
When Yeshua received the drink, he announced in a loud, clear voice, “Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit. It is finished!”
Immediately, there was a low rumble, and the earth began to shake so violently boulders split apart. The crowds of people were knocked off their feet. Splintered rocks crashed down from hilltops scattering screaming people in all directions. Jamin jumped to his feet, but immediately fell on his back and elbows. He choked on clouds of dust that filled the air. He struggled to his feet again, to get above the dust, but the quake knocked him back down. Everyone was sprawled on the ground, including the Roman soldiers.
The shaking intensified. The soldiers threw their hands out to steady themselves. They looked around with mild surprise which escalated into panic. The crosses swayed and both criminals struggled to get a footing. Yeshua hung lifeless. His drooping head swayed as the cross moved with the convulsing ground. The Nazarene’s followers cried aloud, clutching at each other as they fought to get to their feet. Then the oppressive darkness began to wane, but the air seemed to thicken. It pressed into the people with an inexplicable weight, making it difficult to breathe. The earthquake continued unabated.
Adas gave up trying to get to his feet. It seemed as if the shaking would never end. After what felt like an eternity, the tremors finally subsided. The sun returned to its natural state, restoring color to the world. There was complete silence, as if the earth had gone mute. Adas stared at the dead man above him. He was overcome by the timing of Yeshua’s crucifixion and death with the darkness and the earthquake.
Thinking of everything he had ever heard about Yeshua, Adas exclaimed, “Certainly this was a righteous man!”
Demas gasped for air. He could barely speak above a whisper, but Adas could hear him. “A mortal can be righteous. This man is not mortal. He is the Son of God. Tell my brother that because I willingly took up this cross, I go to be with God. I will wait for Jamin there.” Demas fell silent.
Adas turned and scanned the crowd. A flood of memories from Misha’s teaching raced through his mind. In one defining moment, he knew the greatest truth of all. For the first time in his life, he acted on pure faith. Centurion Longinus cried out, “Surely this was the Son of God!”
Lucius scrambled to his feet. “Sir! You can’t really think any god would let his son die like a slave. It got dark and the earth shook. So what? He was just like any other man.”
“Would an ordinary man forgive us while we tortured him to death? I have never even heard rumors of such a thing. Have you?”
Lucius started to speak, but could think of no reply. He shielded his eyes from the sun’s glare and grumbled to no one in particular, “I hate crucifixions. They always take so long to die.”
Hektor glanced at his wager tally and gloated, “Nazarene, you have made me a rich man.”
Lucius ground his teeth in anger. Not only had he lost his wager money, but Centurion Valentius had borrowed money from him to place a bet. He knew Valentius would never pay him back. Lucius looked around for his wineskin and snatched it up, but he had not resealed it. What little wine was left had run out during the earthquake. The blood of the grape joined with the blood of Yeshua as it soaked into the ground.
Yeshua was dead. The crowd began to disperse. Yet his followers remained. Their grief was only too evident, still they lingered. The other two crucified men would last much longer, perhaps days.
Adas spoke to Jamin in Hebrew. “I have wine if you’ve run out. For your brother.”
Jamin nodded gratefully. He again attached the sponge to the stick. Adas retrieved his wineskin when Jamin stopped him. “Why are you giving them aid?”
“It is a matter of decency. If I were up there, I would want someone to give me aid. They know Yeshua is dead. Why don’t they leave?”
“They stay for the same reason I stay for Demas,” said Jamin. “They just want to be with him a little longer, especially his mother, the woman that man is trying to comfort. The man’s name is John. He was one of Yeshua’s disciples.”
“Didn’t he have other disciples?”
Jamin
