For Further Reading: Matthew 27:15-61; Mark 15:21-16:11; Luke 23:18-24:12; John 19:16-20:18
On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross / The emblem of suffering and shame / And I love that old cross where the dearest and best / For a world of lost sinners was slain.
“The Old Rugged Cross” by George Bennard
The First ‘Good’ Friday Through the Eyes of Mary Magdalene
It was an unusually warm spring day, the first morning of Passover, yet something was terribly wrong. You could feel it in the air and sense it among the crowds.
The birds that usually filled the air with their lighthearted song were as silent as the grave. The people who were normally filled with a sense of hope-filled remembrance as they went about preparing for the festival were edgy and tense.
As I wove my way through the marketplace, there were whispers, speculations, and observations.
“Did you hear?” some would ask.
“Who hasn’t heard?” others would jest.
“The religious leaders took him to Pilate. And there’s an angry mob, they’re calling for blood.”
Of course, I knew exactly who they were talking about. He had been arrested the night before. Simon Peter had told me and the other women I was with that much. But an angry, murderous mob? At the mention of that, I hastened my way toward Pilate’s grand headquarters.
When I arrived, it was like the air had swollen and a dark evil had blanketed itself over that maddening crowd. You could feel the hatred running through their veins. You could see the murder in their eyes as they screamed, “CRUCIFY HIM! CRUCIFY HIM! GIVE US BARABBAS!”
I stood in utter shock and confusion. It was like the Sea of Galilee had gathered itself up and plunged over me. I couldn’t breathe. I could barely think! This was madness!
Crucify Him? Crucify the Messiah? Our true King?
And then I looked up at the balcony of Pilate’s grand residence: Jesus, my Lord.
He looked awful. Broken, bloody, and bruised. The look of anguish, exhaustion, and heartbreak were etched across His face. He was clothed in the finest purple robe and a crown of thorns had been unceremoniously shoved onto His head, yet you could feel the mockery in it.
Then Pilate spoke: “I, as well as Herod your king, examined this man. We have found nothing of which to accuse him. He is undeserving of death. What evil has he done? I shall punish and then release him. That should be enough for the lot of you” (Luke 23:13-25).
Yet, the mob roared all the more with righteous indignation. “Away with this man! CRUCIFY HIM! CRUCIFY HIM!”
I could hardly believe my ears! I could hardly believe my eyes! There was nothing to convict Jesus, yet this mob, people who had listened and clung to His teachings for the last three years, were demanding His execution. I stood and watched in horror, feeling helpless to do anything for my Lord.
Pilate then called for a bowl of water to be brought. He washed his hands, declaring his innocence in the matter at hand, and sentenced Jesus to death—an utterly humiliating and shameful death on a cross (Matthew 27:24-26).
Only a short while later, Roman soldiers brought Jesus out to the road. Behind Him were two criminals, who, like Jesus, were condemned to die by crucifixion. Each of them was bruised and bloody. They had been stripped of everything and forced to carry on their own shoulders the cross that they would soon hang on until they died. The mob parted to allow this motley crew to parade, unceremoniously, through the gate that led to the outskirts of the city.
As the condemned men made their way up the hill out of town, Jesus, as weak as He was and bearing the heavy weight of that rugged, wooden cross, collapsed to the ground. A Roman soldier who marched beside Him, stooped over to help Him up only to kick Jesus in the ribs, spit on His head, and curse at Him loud enough for the whole of the crowd to hear. Another soldier, seeing Jesus face first in the dirt, laughed and then yanked a man from the crowd, who was making his way into town, and forced him to carry the cross that Jesus had dropped. The two soldiers dragged my Lord to His feet and shoved Him mercilessly forward.
As this scuffle was happening, I could see that the criminal just behind Jesus grew angry, his face contorting with rage. He hurled insults toward Jesus and the soldiers, then glared and spat at anyone in the crowd who dared to look at him.
The third criminal, however, was different altogether. He walked with his head bowed down—perhaps from shame and humiliation. Then, I thought I saw a tear slip down his cheek. That’s odd. I had never seen a criminal sent to be crucified so….remorseful. Usually, they were full of pride and arrogance like the other one. Yet, there was something about the way this man carried himself that made my heart swell with heartbroken compassion for him.
I was startled out of my thoughts as a woman’s voice came up behind me and echoed into my ears.
“Mary. Mary Magdalene!” It was my friend, Mary, Jesus’ dear mother. Her voice sounded shallow, trepidation dancing on the edge of it. “What is happening? Why are they doing this to my son, to our Lord?”
“They’re killing Him and I don’t know why!” Tears began streaming down my face.
“But He hasn’t done anything wrong!” this time it was Mary, the wife of Clopas, who spoke. I hadn’t noticed her walking beside Jesus’ mother—His mother’s sister was there beside them too.
We all just looked at one another with tears and a pitiful understanding that the world had gone mad. Swept up by the raging mob, we continued forward towards Golgotha—the place of the Skull.
We heard it before we saw it. The thud, thud, thud of nails on wood. Nails piercing the flesh and bones of two criminals and one Savior. We heard their traumatic cries of unspeakable anguish. These horrific sounds filled the air around us and brought an unsettling silence over the once-raging mob around us.
When the four of us women made it to the top of the hill, the sight I saw tore right through my heart and pierced deep into my being. It was like all the breath had been sucked from my lungs and I had whipped across my whole body with a thousand glass shards.
Jesus, the Savior of the world and God’s beloved Son, a man who had been so full of light and life just days before hung almost lifeless from that rugged old cross. Anguish flashed across His features as He took a ragged breath.
The criminal on his left, the one full of bitterness and pride, mocked Jesus. “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” the agony that shot across his face as he spoke was enough to make one almost feel pity for the dying, broken man.
And then, the criminal on Jesus’ right—the one who had looked so remorseful as he had carried his cross—answered the other with a rebuke. “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.”
Then fixing his eyes on Jesus, he took a painful and ragged breath. And with his voice full of both sorrow and hope, he said softly, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
And with tenderness, compassion, and mercy that you feel deep inside, Jesus, smiling through the pain of his next breath, said to the man, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:39-43, ESV).
It was at that moment, in the middle of the darkest day, that I realized something so profound: the love Jesus has for us, for me, is deeper than I could have ever comprehended. His love is so wide, so long, and so deep that He willingly allowed Himself to suffer in anguish and then die on that rugged, awful cross. Honestly, I don’t fully understand why and I don’t think I ever truly will why the cross had to be part of the plan.
Yet, it is the next part of the story that makes, in light of eternity, the incomprehensible love and actions of my Lord, Savior, and King worth believing.
To be continued….
“Go & Tell that Love Has Come to Life: A Creative Retelling of the First Easter”
How deep the Father’s love for us / How vast beyond all measure / That He would give His only Son / To make a wretch His treasure.
”How Deep the Father’s Love for Us” by Stuart Townend
In light of the crucifixion of Jesus, here is my challenge to you—a thought to consider from missionary, author, and speaker Elisabeth Elliot:
If we think we love someone, let us test that love by asking how far we are prepared to go for that person’s sake. If we imagine we love the Lord Christ, let us look at His broken and bleeding body hung up with nails and ask if what we call “love” has any of that quality in it. How much? How far will we go? What price will we pay? “Obedient unto death” — is that what mean by love? It is what He meant. “Love one another as I have loved you,” was His command (John 15:12).
Excerpt originally found in the Music of His Promises, p. 98; taken from the weekly devotional (Feb. 28th, 2024) by the Elisabeth Elliot Foundation; emphasis added.
This is the second draft of a retelling of the biblical narrative of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ that I wrote and presented during my Speaking the Faith class in the Spring of 2022.
Eternally Planted 