The Word That Never Came

I wrote this a few years ago for another blog. As I was re-reading it before I used it for a Lord Supper talk this past Sunday, I realized the ideas for it were strongly inspired by a skit I was a part of at Bible camp years ago. I don't know the name of the skit or who wrote it...so that's the best I can do in giving credit.

The Angel Michael stands in readiness with legions of angels flanking him and standing at his back. At any moment they expect the word, they are constantly on edge, leaning forward in their strain to hear, in case it is said in a whisper. They heard their Master crying, in so much pain he seemed to be sweating drops of blood. They do not understand his words to the Father, do not know what horrid thing Christ will face which causes him to say, “Not my will be done, but yours.” Michael cannot stand to see his Lord in such pain by himself, the Lord’s silly disciples are asleep instead of attending to the task Christ set them, so Michael comes to his side and reminds him he is not alone. “Whatever needs done, we can help you, you know what strength each of us has.” Christ looks to Michael with pain in his eyes, knowing he must face this task alone, but thankful for the comfort Michael has tried to offer.

Christ returns to his disciples, they are asleep, again. He rouses them and points to the torches coming up the road, to the mob coming through the shadows. Christ asks whom the mob seeks, they answer and Christ says, “I am he.” They fall to the ground from the power of his words, but foolishly still want to take him. Michael smiles and readies himself when he sees Peter draw his sword, now Christ will give the word. Instead all Peter’s clumsy attempt produces is a loss of an ear and, to Michael and all others amazement, Christ heals the injured man and allows himself to be taken.

All the humans who are with Jesus do not understand and flee; where is the warrior king they were expecting? Why is the Messiah going quietly? Even the angels do not know the plan, but instead of fleeing they surround their Lord more closely until he silently tells them to retreat a little and stand their ground, for his captors are losing their nerve. The captors do not see the angels but can feel their suffocating power.

A man, a mere puny man dares to call his Lord a blasphemer so Michael raises his sword to deal a killing blow, thinking, “Surely he will now give us the word.” Instead, Christ simply stands there as the supposed priests strike the King and spit in his face. One of the angels meekly asks, “Do you think he somehow lost his ability to speak?” not believing his Lord would allow this to happen to himself.

The nightmare of a night continues, the angels, of course, not growing weary but some of these ancient, almost timeless beings begin for the first time in their existence to feel impatient, as their Lord undergoes more accusations. Some begin to doubt the wisdom of God, why did he decide to become a being limited in power anyway, a creature who can be broken, hurt, and killed?

An angel yells to Christ as Christ is being beaten, “We are still here, can you not talk? Why Lord, why are you allowing them to do this? Just give us a sign.” Ending with a desperate, almost helpless voice, “We are still here…we are ready to stop all this.” But the Master of all still does not stop the blows and torture. And still the nightmare continues, more mocking, more accusations, more misunderstanding on mans part and the angels and finally, heresy of heresies, a sentence of death on the most innocent man who has ever walked the earth.

The Lord is forced to carry his own cross and falls beneath its weight. A tear slides down Michael’s face, the angels are crying at seeing their Lord so weak, knowing full well how strong he could be if he would only summon the power into himself. They are crying because he seems so alone, yes, they are standing all around, but the humans, the foolish humans whom Christ came to save are treating their Messiah as a thing of utmost contempt.

The nail is posed above Christ’s hand and Michael yells to his legions in a voice which shakes the sun, “All ready now, the word must come, has to come.” The hammer strikes, again and again, on to the other hand and a nail through the feet…still no word comes. The universe looks dark to the angels eyes, everything seems wrong, as if wrong has finally won, as if the Traitor has somehow cheated God and has finally gotten his way.

Michael and his legions surround the hill, keeping the sniveling, snickering demons away from the angels Lord. Michael looks into the the face of the devil and sees the smile on his face, his sneer thinking he has finally won. The sky seems to match the devil’s mood, for it seems the very sun has forsaken the sky and darkness appears to reign over the light. Michael’s face is grim but he says, “It isn’t over yet, we are only waiting for the word and all this will stop, then you will not be smiling anymore.”

Twice now the Lord has spoken and were it not for the lightening reflexes of the angels the universe would be no more, for when they saw his mouth begin to open the angels began to make their move, only to stop themselves and hear with disbelief the words which came from their Lord, words of forgiveness instead of a command.

Final words come from the Lord’s mouth, “It is finished.” The angels see that life has left the Savior’s body. “What is finished?!,” all their throats yell with a voice so filled with grief, confusion and power that it rips the world in half.

Michael hangs his head and says to his army in tones of sadness and shame which makes creation tremble, “Somehow we have failed.”

If only our Savior would have yelled or whispered to the waiting angels, “Now!,” the world would have stopped, the skies would have melted and the ones who were crucifying our Lord would have turned to dust before the angels fury…but that word did not come, Christ did not stop it all and God did not destroy the world because of the monstrosities committed against his Son that day. Instead, Christ died, taking our sins, our guilt for every sin we have ever committed upon his shoulders in hopes that we would look at that act of love and be won by it to an everlasting life spent with the Father and the Son.

Of course I do not really know what Michael or the other angels were really feeling, but even if they did know the plan (which God seems to like to have some mystery about him, so maybe they did not know), they must have felt helpless. Even with all their power, they could not take away the pain Christ was experiencing, they were not allowed to strike down the ones who were mocking the One they loved. The gift of Christ’s life which he gave, the gift which allows us to be born clean and pure into eternity, did not only cost Christ and God. It also cost the angels the pain they felt, and the women's pain who loved Christ with their all, and the men's pain who had put all their hope in Him. Happily, the seeds of their pain lead to more joy than the universe can contain, to a realized dream of God’s that will one day unite angels and man before His throne, to live forever sharing with each other the portion of God which they understand better than any other being because of the experiences they have had. And what an amazing dream that is.