I felt compelled to share this today. It is an Excerpt from The Seventh Angel and is the crucifixion story told from the perspective of one of the demons, (Morax). I hope it causes you to think about what you think that day was like.
An excerpt from Chapter 19:
The thought shocked Morax. It was not often that he allowed himself to remember the Lamb’s death. It had been a considerable blow to the demons and was something best forgotten, something never to be spoken of. It proved to be another example of their gross underestimation of the King and his plan.
There had been such celebration in the hours leading up to the death of the Lamb. Which of them would ever have expected the King to send his son to this fallen earth in the form of a human? It was unfathomable. That much might, and power confined in a human body? And to send him as a baby no less. So vulnerable. The demons had not seen that coming.
But the King had sent a mighty force of protection for the child. Warriors surrounded him and his family. Joseph proved to be very devoted to the King and no matter what tactic Lucifer tried he could not break-through. So, Lucifer waited patiently until the Lamb was accompanied by one that Lucifer could corrupt. Judas had been the obvious target. The King had provided a mighty Sentinel to protect him. The Sentinel had proven to be a worthy foe. But even the mightiest angel could not usurp free will; it was an unbreakable rule of the King. Fortunately, Lucifer had assigned greed to Judas at birth. His love of money was strong, leaving him susceptible.
The plan had been beautiful in its simplicity, Judas would betray the Lamb into the hands of the religious. The religious! Morax chuckled aloud as he remembered it. What better irony is there than that? Titus would have appreciated that had he been there.
That part of the plan had at least worked, and Lucifer continued with that tactic….
For just a moment Morax allowed himself to recall how happy they had been to see the Lamb stumble from the crowd bloody and torn. Each step toward Calvary had been taken in great physical pain. Lucifer had walked beside the Lamb goading him, mocking him, celebrating. The Lamb had never uttered a word in response. His mother walked not far behind them, her heart breaking; her strength faltering.
Lucifer walked along the dust-covered road and listened as Mary wept for her son. He listened to the taunts and cries of the crowd. Taunts his demons had inspired. He walked along celebrating the distinct smell of the Lamb’s blood as it dripped from his broken body and hit the dirt beneath his feet. If only Lucifer had realized just how powerful that blood was.
But as history had shown, the plan had not gone quite the way Lucifer had expected. The demons had seen to every possible detail. The Lamb had stumbled out exhausted, weak, and anguished. Blood poured from his mangled body, the flesh on his back shredded. Flies attracted by the fresh wounds swarmed around him landing on his back and head, his face swollen from the beating. The demons celebrated their victory. Their shouts of joy assaulted the Lamb’s ears. His tired, sad eyes met theirs. But even then, even as he staggered toward his death, Morax was sure he saw a hint of fire in those eyes. A glimmer of something bigger, something more.
The thought made Morax feel nervous. Bile had risen in his stomach as he considered that maybe they were missing something. Perhaps this was a mistake. After all, how many times had the King surprised them with the unexpected? Hadn’t it all been too easy? Why hadn’t the Lamb called in warriors? Instead, there were ministering angels lined up along the dirt path near him, tears glistening down their cheeks. But the Lamb had signaled them to stay back. This was a trial he must bear. Each of them had knelt before him as he passed watching as the King’s son was lead to a criminal’s death.
Morax began to worry. But the celebration continued as they placed him on the cross; Morax could not control the jubilant cheer that erupted from him when the Lamb screamed out as the nails pierced through his flesh securing him to the rough bark of the tree. It dug deep into his already tattered back. For three hours, the demons had danced around the Lamb calling out insults, mocking the King’s son. For three hours, he said nothing to them. He did nothing to defend himself. All that power confined to a frail human body. The power to give and remove life with nothing more than a word, and yet he did nothing.
They should have known it was a trap. They should have known that the King would never have allowed the Lamb to be treated in such a way unless there was a very good reason. The Lamb could have merely uttered a word and destroyed them all. Instead, he hung there in humility as the demons and humans alike mocked him. Morax sighed heavily, they really should have known.
But who could have ever imagined the truth? It was preposterous. Eventually, the Lamb called out to his father, but his father had turned away.
The demons, unable to contain their joy, had erupted into celebration. Surely this was a blow to the King. Surely the death of his beloved son would weaken him enough that Lucifer could gain ground. But that was not how it had worked. Once again, they had not expected the King’s next move. They had played directly into his hand.