It was unusually quiet up in heaven. Very few people could be seen walking along the golden city streets, and those who were appeared listless, their heads bent downward, now and then shaking as if in disbelief. Most of the people in that heavenly city were seated in gargantuan New Jerusalem Worship Stadium, an outdoor venue that seated millions. But there was no worship going on just now. Most of those in attendance were sitting there in shock, their eyes glued to one of the dozen massive Big-Screen TV monitors conveniently suspended in mid-air in front of the viewers in that section. Their eyes were riveted on the drama that was being beamed through fiber-optic signals from cameras down on earth.
They had watched in horror as a kangaroo court had just finished convicting God’s Son of high treason. They had accused him of blasphemy – of falsely claiming to be the Messiah – God’s Anointed King! The imposters! Of course He was God’s Anointed King! He had created the earth, the sun, the moon, the vast galaxies. And He had been born a descendant of Israeli King David. He was rightful heir to David’s throne and the King who was to reign as God’s Anointed One over the entire earth. God had anointed Him with His Spirit at His baptism in the waters of the Jordan River. Of course He was the Messiah! The only ones who were committing blasphemy were that infidel high priest Caiaphas and those stiff-necked, unbelieving, arrogant scribes and elders making up the Jewish Knesset! They were the ones who refused to acknowledge that Jesus was the Messiah! They were the blasphemers!
The crowd had stared in disbelief when the Knesset had convicted Jesus of the crime of being Who He Was! They had gasped when members of the Knesset had slapped Jesus and spat in his face.
It felt as though they were watching a horror movie. One of those movies when nothing that happens makes sense. One bad thing after another befalls the good guy – it seemed that bad was destined to happen regardless of whether it made sense or not.
Then the crowd watched the drama of Jesus’ mistrial before Pilate, the Roman governor. They overheard his private conversations with his wife Claudia. Somehow they could read his thoughts on the closed captioning text scrolling by on the bottom of the screen. They cheered each time Pilate declared Jesus innocent. But when the mob in Pilate’s court-yard black-mailed him with treason against Caesar if he let Jesus go, the crowd in heaven groaned. They could read Pilate’s thoughts. When the Roman soldiers began brutally flogging Jesus, many in the crowd assembled in the stadium began weeping uncontrollably.
When the Roman soldiers herded Jesus up the hill the vast assemblage in the stadium began to grow agitated. Most of the spectators had no idea what was coming next. But some did, and they hid their faces, not daring to look at the monitors. Many onlookers screamed when they watched the soldiers hammer nails into Jesus’ hands. “Can’t somebody stop this travesty?” a man pleaded. But no one stopped it. The crowd lapsed into silent shock, broken here and there by the quiet weeping of women spectators.
Outside the stadium, a contingent of 12 legions of special forces angels quietly made their way up Worship Boulevard, their heads bowed. The Boulevard took them directly to the massive temple. Silently the ethereal soldiers mounted the steps and respectfully entered the massive edifice. This was the Holy of Holies. With heads still bowed, they lined themselves up in twelve perfectly aligned divisions and bowed themselves down to the ground in front of the throne. Their commanding officer, the Archangel Michael, addressed the One sitting on the Throne. “Oh LORD God, creator of heaven and earth. We respectfully volunteer our services to descend at warp speed to Jerusalem and rescue Your Son, the Eternal Word of God, from those wretched humans. As you know, their troops are no match for the powers you have vested in us.”
But there was no response. Finally Michael lifted his head to ponder the face of the One sitting on the throne. He gasped audibly. He had never seen this before in all the millennia He had been serving in Heavenly Mount Zion. Tears were coursing down the face of the Most High! Time seemed to stand still. As Michael waited in respectful silence, he blinked. The Most High slowly rose from the throne, and with head bowed, he descended the stairs, turned and walked quietly out the back door of the temple. It began to grow noticeably darker.
The crowd in the stadium stirred uneasily. Something bad was happening. It was growing darker in heaven. This had never happened before. Distracted as they were, it took some time for them to notice that the same thing was happening on the monitors. It was growing darker and darker in Jerusalem also! What could it mean? And then they heard an awful, heart-rending scream from the figure on the center cross, “My God, my God, why have you deserted me?” After what seemed an eternity, the viewers in heaven heard another cry from the center cross, “Father, I entrust my spirit into Your hands.” His head dropped to his chest, and in heaven it became pitch black for a few moments. Then a dim light emanated from the monitors in the stadium. The crowd watched in stunned silence as the dead Messiah was taken down from his cross and deposited in a tomb. How could the Messiah die? He was the alpha and the omega. At last he used to be. This wasn’t supposed to happen!
The angelic soldiers in the temple rose to their feet and gazed at the vacant throne, then at one another. Somehow, without a word being said, they sensed what was happening. There was not a dry eye among them. At a single command from Michael, they filed out of the temple division by division. It was too late now. They had no power over death. Why would the Almighty permit those wretched humans, for whom He seemed to have an irrational affection, to murder His one-and-only Son? They would never understand it.
Many in the Worship Stadium rose to their feet. Sobbing uncontrollably, they descended the stairs and made their way to the exits. But others remained transfixed in their seats. Call it morbid curiosity, but they felt compelled to watch. The monitors now had a split screen. The left half of the screen displayed the dead form of the Son of God. But the right half was now showing the disciples huddled in a spacious upstairs room in a home in Jerusalem. It didn’t take long to determine that these men were utterly depressed. Totally dispirited, their hopes had been absolutely crushed.
A clock now appeared on the upper right-hand corner of each monitor in the stadium. It displayed the month, the day, the hour, the minute, and the second down in Jerusalem. The crowd that remained in the stadium hunkered down to watch. Time dragged on. The followers of Jesus on the screens retired at night time, but none of those who remained in the stadium left their seats. Friday in Jerusalem had become Saturday, and now Saturday became Sunday. Now it was early Sunday morning. It was still hours before dawn in Jerusalem. Suddenly the monitors in New Jerusalem Worship Stadium erupted in light and color. There was no split-screen now. The only picture displayed now was the interior of the tomb. The figure in the crypt suddenly leaped to his feet. He was fully clothed, but not in his grave shroud. It still remained on the stone bench. The crowd watched in stunned silence as the Messiah bent over, picked up the head piece that had fallen to the floor of the crypt, folded it, and placed it on a nearby bench. As they watched, he strode through the dimness of the crypt and walked right through the stone that sealed the entrance, past the guards on duty and out into the night. Then He disappeared from view. The guards hadn’t seen a thing. But the crowd up in the stadium had!!!
Almost as one the crowd leaped to their to their feet also. The Messiah was alive! They began to shout and scream and high-five each other. What had been a dim light in heaven now erupted into the dazzling brightness to which they had always before been accustomed! They began to chant praises to the Power and Majesty and Honor and Glory of the Most High, and to the remarkable victory He had just accomplished over man’s greatest enemy, Death!
The tumultuous noise from the stadium shook heaven! Citizens of New Jerusalem came running back to the stadium. “What’s happened? What’s going on?”
“You missed it! You missed it! You missed the greatest come-back in history. He did it! He did it! You better hope there’s an instant-replay!”
Michael the archangel had a hunch! He had been watching the monitors, too! Now he flew down the stadium steps and out the Worship Boulevard exit. He sprinted up the Boulevard and, rather unceremoniously, up the stairs and into the Holy of Holies. Dazzling light now filled the temple, and, just as he had suspected, there sat the Almighty, back on his throne, all smiles. Michael ran up to the throne, started to deliver a high-five, then thought better of it. He dropped face down and began to worship the Most High for His glorious power and infinitely wise plans. “O Most High, You had me worried for a long while,” babbled Michael, “but You did it! You did it! You did it! I don’t know why You did all that, but You did it! Praise be to Your Holy name!”
They had watched in horror as a kangaroo court had just finished convicting God’s Son of high treason. They had accused him of blasphemy – of falsely claiming to be the Messiah – God’s Anointed King! The imposters! Of course He was God’s Anointed King! He had created the earth, the sun, the moon, the vast galaxies. And He had been born a descendant of Israeli King David. He was rightful heir to David’s throne and the King who was to reign as God’s Anointed One over the entire earth. God had anointed Him with His Spirit at His baptism in the waters of the Jordan River. Of course He was the Messiah! The only ones who were committing blasphemy were that infidel high priest Caiaphas and those stiff-necked, unbelieving, arrogant scribes and elders making up the Jewish Knesset! They were the ones who refused to acknowledge that Jesus was the Messiah! They were the blasphemers!
The crowd had stared in disbelief when the Knesset had convicted Jesus of the crime of being Who He Was! They had gasped when members of the Knesset had slapped Jesus and spat in his face.
It felt as though they were watching a horror movie. One of those movies when nothing that happens makes sense. One bad thing after another befalls the good guy – it seemed that bad was destined to happen regardless of whether it made sense or not.
Then the crowd watched the drama of Jesus’ mistrial before Pilate, the Roman governor. They overheard his private conversations with his wife Claudia. Somehow they could read his thoughts on the closed captioning text scrolling by on the bottom of the screen. They cheered each time Pilate declared Jesus innocent. But when the mob in Pilate’s court-yard black-mailed him with treason against Caesar if he let Jesus go, the crowd in heaven groaned. They could read Pilate’s thoughts. When the Roman soldiers began brutally flogging Jesus, many in the crowd assembled in the stadium began weeping uncontrollably.
When the Roman soldiers herded Jesus up the hill the vast assemblage in the stadium began to grow agitated. Most of the spectators had no idea what was coming next. But some did, and they hid their faces, not daring to look at the monitors. Many onlookers screamed when they watched the soldiers hammer nails into Jesus’ hands. “Can’t somebody stop this travesty?” a man pleaded. But no one stopped it. The crowd lapsed into silent shock, broken here and there by the quiet weeping of women spectators.
Outside the stadium, a contingent of 12 legions of special forces angels quietly made their way up Worship Boulevard, their heads bowed. The Boulevard took them directly to the massive temple. Silently the ethereal soldiers mounted the steps and respectfully entered the massive edifice. This was the Holy of Holies. With heads still bowed, they lined themselves up in twelve perfectly aligned divisions and bowed themselves down to the ground in front of the throne. Their commanding officer, the Archangel Michael, addressed the One sitting on the Throne. “Oh LORD God, creator of heaven and earth. We respectfully volunteer our services to descend at warp speed to Jerusalem and rescue Your Son, the Eternal Word of God, from those wretched humans. As you know, their troops are no match for the powers you have vested in us.”
But there was no response. Finally Michael lifted his head to ponder the face of the One sitting on the throne. He gasped audibly. He had never seen this before in all the millennia He had been serving in Heavenly Mount Zion. Tears were coursing down the face of the Most High! Time seemed to stand still. As Michael waited in respectful silence, he blinked. The Most High slowly rose from the throne, and with head bowed, he descended the stairs, turned and walked quietly out the back door of the temple. It began to grow noticeably darker.
The crowd in the stadium stirred uneasily. Something bad was happening. It was growing darker in heaven. This had never happened before. Distracted as they were, it took some time for them to notice that the same thing was happening on the monitors. It was growing darker and darker in Jerusalem also! What could it mean? And then they heard an awful, heart-rending scream from the figure on the center cross, “My God, my God, why have you deserted me?” After what seemed an eternity, the viewers in heaven heard another cry from the center cross, “Father, I entrust my spirit into Your hands.” His head dropped to his chest, and in heaven it became pitch black for a few moments. Then a dim light emanated from the monitors in the stadium. The crowd watched in stunned silence as the dead Messiah was taken down from his cross and deposited in a tomb. How could the Messiah die? He was the alpha and the omega. At last he used to be. This wasn’t supposed to happen!
The angelic soldiers in the temple rose to their feet and gazed at the vacant throne, then at one another. Somehow, without a word being said, they sensed what was happening. There was not a dry eye among them. At a single command from Michael, they filed out of the temple division by division. It was too late now. They had no power over death. Why would the Almighty permit those wretched humans, for whom He seemed to have an irrational affection, to murder His one-and-only Son? They would never understand it.
Many in the Worship Stadium rose to their feet. Sobbing uncontrollably, they descended the stairs and made their way to the exits. But others remained transfixed in their seats. Call it morbid curiosity, but they felt compelled to watch. The monitors now had a split screen. The left half of the screen displayed the dead form of the Son of God. But the right half was now showing the disciples huddled in a spacious upstairs room in a home in Jerusalem. It didn’t take long to determine that these men were utterly depressed. Totally dispirited, their hopes had been absolutely crushed.
A clock now appeared on the upper right-hand corner of each monitor in the stadium. It displayed the month, the day, the hour, the minute, and the second down in Jerusalem. The crowd that remained in the stadium hunkered down to watch. Time dragged on. The followers of Jesus on the screens retired at night time, but none of those who remained in the stadium left their seats. Friday in Jerusalem had become Saturday, and now Saturday became Sunday. Now it was early Sunday morning. It was still hours before dawn in Jerusalem. Suddenly the monitors in New Jerusalem Worship Stadium erupted in light and color. There was no split-screen now. The only picture displayed now was the interior of the tomb. The figure in the crypt suddenly leaped to his feet. He was fully clothed, but not in his grave shroud. It still remained on the stone bench. The crowd watched in stunned silence as the Messiah bent over, picked up the head piece that had fallen to the floor of the crypt, folded it, and placed it on a nearby bench. As they watched, he strode through the dimness of the crypt and walked right through the stone that sealed the entrance, past the guards on duty and out into the night. Then He disappeared from view. The guards hadn’t seen a thing. But the crowd up in the stadium had!!!
Almost as one the crowd leaped to their to their feet also. The Messiah was alive! They began to shout and scream and high-five each other. What had been a dim light in heaven now erupted into the dazzling brightness to which they had always before been accustomed! They began to chant praises to the Power and Majesty and Honor and Glory of the Most High, and to the remarkable victory He had just accomplished over man’s greatest enemy, Death!
The tumultuous noise from the stadium shook heaven! Citizens of New Jerusalem came running back to the stadium. “What’s happened? What’s going on?”
“You missed it! You missed it! You missed the greatest come-back in history. He did it! He did it! You better hope there’s an instant-replay!”
Michael the archangel had a hunch! He had been watching the monitors, too! Now he flew down the stadium steps and out the Worship Boulevard exit. He sprinted up the Boulevard and, rather unceremoniously, up the stairs and into the Holy of Holies. Dazzling light now filled the temple, and, just as he had suspected, there sat the Almighty, back on his throne, all smiles. Michael ran up to the throne, started to deliver a high-five, then thought better of it. He dropped face down and began to worship the Most High for His glorious power and infinitely wise plans. “O Most High, You had me worried for a long while,” babbled Michael, “but You did it! You did it! You did it! I don’t know why You did all that, but You did it! Praise be to Your Holy name!”
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