It was one of those beautiful spring days that urges one to get outside. I had driven down to the Shakespeare Theater, where the sprawling park and lakes make it one of the prettiest places in Montgomery. I had tossed bread crumbs to the ducks and drank a Starbucks coffee and was “texting” my daughter up at the university. I’m slow at it, so I was bent over the phone, concentrating as I scrolled through the numbers.

I finally raised my head and jumped noticeably to realize that a man was sitting next to me. A little too close next to me. The hair stood up on the back of my neck and the shot of adrenaline made my heart pound and my muscles tense.

He seemed embarrassed at my reaction and quickly moved to the far end of the bench. “I’m very sorry! I didn’t mean to alarm you. Please excuse me. It’s just that I wanted to talk with someone, and you were sitting here…..” He paused, as though to gauge my response.

I just stared, not knowing what to say. To be honest, I was thinking of where I planned to hit him if he came toward me.

“Please, sir, don’t be afraid. I just wanted to talk. You can call me Bill.”

“Hal, my name is Hal”, I responded cautiously. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Hal, I’m an angel.”

A prickly sensation washed over my body. “Okay…what do you want to talk about?”

“It’s almost Easter. It’s the true Christian holiday, you know. It’s not for me to judge the way humanity has ruined it, but I would like to put it in perspective for you, if I may.”

“Go ahead.” At least it was a subject that interested me, and he hadn’t moved, so why not?

“I remember when the Son came to this planet. We watched in wonder as the One who had filled eternity became this tiny, microscopic bit of flesh. We could see the sparkle of Divinity in him, even as a baby.

His time on this earth flew by. Do you have any idea what a wisp of smoke a human lifetime is? We watched and wondered, but this was not about us, and none of us dared ask what it was all about.

Then one night I was given the assignment to minister to Him. I was totally unprepared for what I found. He was in the garden, alone. I could hear his groans as he twisted on the ground. I moved closer, growing more concerned by the moment.

Something was terribly wrong! His agony! I had never seen a human in this distress! I bent over Him, wondering what to do next. His face was knotted in torment and blood seeped from His pores. I was horrified. That’s when I noticed it. A smell! A foul, sickening smell. It took me back, back through the ages to the Great War.

Satan had rebelled. The army that he had raised was rampaging through the kingdom, wreaking havoc as they went. We fought. We fought hard, but we couldn’t beat them. The viscous hatred of that endless throng of thugs was something that had never been seen or experienced before. I was wondering what the outcome would be when suddenly, from the vicinity of the Throne, there came this tremendous explosion! I whirled to see what had happened.

The King was there, seated. He had not moved, but from His eyes had flashed this awful wrath! Exploding, unstoppable energy that no one had ever seen, before or since. And that’s when I saw Satan and his cohorts. They were toppling through the void of space. End over end, flashing like a streak of lightning!

All that remained was the stench of their sin, wafting through the air like the smoke of battle.

He was exiled to this place, you know. And after he got to Adam, well, every human from then on had that odor about them. But not the Christ! He didn’t carry the Adam gene from His Father.

That’s what threw me! What was going on? Where was this horrible, sickening smell coming from?

What if he was here? Satan! Was that why I had been sent here? My hand went to my sword and I turned every way, staring intently into the blackness of the night. But nothing or no one was there.

I bent over the Son again. Gently, I lifted the collar of His robe from his cheek and drew close, hoping to help. He rolled onto His back with His hands clenched tightly against his chest. At that moment, the low, scudding clouds broke and His face could be clearly seen by pale moonlight. His eyes were closed and tears coursed down the sides of his face, washing a trail through the blood specks. His lips quivered feverishly and sobs shuddered through His body.

Between gasps, He spoke in a hoarse whisper. “Please!….. Please! …..If it be possible…..Please! …..Let this cup ….pass from me!”

For several seconds He just wept. Then seeming to gain His composure, he spoke again. “Nevertheless, not My will, but Yours.” He rolled to his knees, and placing His hands on His thighs, He sighed deeply, obviously resigned to whatever was to come.

That’s when it hit me! The smell! It was coming from Jesus! I staggered backward. This was impossible! But there could be no mistaking it; He reeked with the putrid stench of sin.
Wait! That was it! The cup! He knew! Oh, how well He knew what was in that cup!

The following hours were a blur to me. The arrest. The mockery of a trial. The horrible beatings! I kept watching the sky. Where was Michael? Where was the host of Heaven?
I fully expected them to come thundering down and destroy this entire sick, twisted race and sweep the sweet Son of God back home. Nothing.

If I was there to help, well, I didn’t do very well. What could I do? I followed the mob to the hillside. I’ll admit it. I turned away at the thud of the hammer, the screams of pain and the thump of the cross falling into place.

He hung there as the hours dragged by. Then, He lifted His face and screamed into the leaden sky, “My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?”

Then, it happened. The Father took that cup of wrath, the one that was planned for the punishment of every single member of the human race, and slowly, deliberately poured it onto the hopeless form hanging limp against the spikes.”

Bill fell silent, staring away at things I couldn’t see. Slowly, he turned back to me.

Hal, do you understand? Do you have any idea what was done for you?

I hung my head, ashamed. What could I say? There was little in my life to indicate that I had any serious grasp of Calvary. I began to sob. Finally, I looked up to offer a feeble response.

You’re right. He was gone. I looked everywhere for some sign that he had ever really been there at all.

I stood to my feet, feeling weak and exhausted. As I walked to my truck, I sang through my tears, “Tell me the story of Jesus. Write on my heart every word. Tell me the story most precious, sweetest that ever was heard!….Come, let me weep while you whisper, love paid the ransom for me!”

“For He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.” II Cor. 5:21

Have a sacred Easter!

God Bless Us, Every One!
Hal F. Leary 2009