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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 – Advanced)
Topic: Purple (11/05/09)

TITLE: Puple Robe
By Irvine Saint-Vilus
11/11/09


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The purple hue of the long, majestic robe shone in the day’s

glowing light. The fabric was of the highest quality, made of

purple dye which was rare. It was placed on the shoulders of the

man to belie the salient truth of his royal position. The hem of the

robe grazed the ground as it slipped from the sagging shoulders of

its bearer. He’d stood still when the roman soldiers had placed it

on him and then jeered in mock approval. Their cawing bounced

off the walls of the hall or Praetorium, and resembled squawks of

vultures, “Hail, king of the Jews.” He answered nothing and stood

as still as a rock, withstanding their ridicules as much as he’d

endured their brutal treatments which had marred his skin, along

with their dribbles of saliva which dripped off of His body.

The purplish robe turned crimson as they placed a crown on His

head to match the royal attire. It was fashioned with prickly thorns

and as each pointy stem skewered the sides of His scalp, the gush

of blood trickled down His face, its metallic odor suffocating. He

remained unmoved as they hauled Him away to stand before an

audience who sniffed for death like a dog sniffed meat. Though He

could’ve snuffed the lot of them His only intent was to follow the

script that His Father had written for Him, and He knew His role

perfectly. Once His part was completed He’d be where He

belonged sitting at the right hand of His Father adorned with a

splendid robe that was fit only for the King of Kings and Lord of

Lords.

As He stood before the crowd to be chosen in the place of the

true criminal deserving death due each sinner, He waited for His

time to come, which was near and inevitable. The searing heat that

radiated from the sun matched the hot breaths of the crowd, which

bellowed, “Crucify Him,” repeatedly.

He was stripped of His robe and was led away to be beaten and

then bore the cross that would be used to crucify Him. It was His

new robe, a lofty, planked wood He had to carry atop His bruised

back and forge a path toward Golgotha, a small hill located on the

outskirts of the city of Jerusalem. As He meandered toward His

death propelled by love Jesus consecrated the ground with His

blood and tears while agony accompanied Him as much as did a

man named Simon of Cyrene. People gathered to watch. Those

who loved Him were easy to spot since pain contorted their

countenances; His mother, Mary, Mary Magdalene, and His

Disciples were among them.

He cried out with every pound of nail that punctured the meat

of His hands and feet. Then He looked upward toward the sky with

anguish, suddenly feeling utterly alone. “Father, why have You

forsaken Me?” Such was the dejectedness of a Derelict. When He

drew His final breath, the sky displayed a purple haze as the battle

over sin had been won.


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This article has been read 226 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Laury Hubrich 11/15/09
You did a nice job with purple in this piece. It's still unimaginable that Jesus died for all of us.
Jeanne E Webster 11/17/09


Tenderly written and heart-pricking article. And "It is finished..." Amen! My Lord, my God.