I watch as he passes by me.Just a man, a man who has been sentenced to death.I stare at this man. I can not help myself. I, like the others are curious. This man called Jesus
claims to be the Messiah.
I listen to the whispers as he passes the crowd."Is he really the Messiah?" "He is crazy." "If he is a king, where is his crown of jewels?"
I think the same as the others, but too ashamed to admit my doubts.
He gets closer the his final destination. Someone from the crowd hollers out.
"Where is your crown mighty king? Why do you wear a crown of thorns?"
Jesus did not avert his gaze from the man. He looked into the eyes of my father.
"Sir, my glory is in Heaven with the Father."
My father spat at Jesus. "Where is your robe of royalty? Why are you dressed in rags Messiah?"
Jesus did not have a chance to answer my fathers claim. The Roman guards seize him and proceed to carry him to Golgotha.
I do not want to watch the execution, but my father is Roman soldier. My father wants me to become a soldier and tells me this is what Romans do.
I do not want to kill people. I am not like my father. I believe in the Messiah.
Jesus looks at me before the guards place him on the cross. I stare back at the face of peace. I do not see a guilty man. I see the Messiah dressed in his crown of jewels and
his purple robes. I see Jesus in the color of royalty.
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