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There was something strange afoot
in the prison: an unease; an intangible excitement that seemed to stir
even the most hardened. You'd see it in the flicker of anxiety in a jailer's
eye; in the defiance of a youth usually cowed.
Normally the atmosphere was one of monotonous and hopeless apathy - but
it could swiftly and violently swing-when there was a beating, for instance;
when the screams of torture enlivened the place. But on the whole a cold
chill of fear predominated, killing life, stifling hope.
This early morning was different: even the flies after the blood sprayed
against that wall were different, it seemed. As the day began, there was
an edge to things that the governor didn't like.
Joe in cell ten woke that morning from a couple of hours sleep that had
actually rested him. That didn't happen often-he couldn't remember when.
Usually it was nerves all the way. Had to be like that to survive. OK,
perhaps not when he was a nipper - but again, even then you watched out
for yourself. Gave better than you got.
Joe knew this was the end of the line. It had to come. Oh, he'd tried
a job or two, but it was so boring-the routine. Easier pickings to be
had. They'd come for him-they could only have known where he was if someone
had talked. But it was going to happen, sooner or later. This was the
latest clamp down-rounding up the little guys; unable to touch the bosses.
He wondered vaguely if this King was one of them - if they'd got one of
the gang leaders. Make a change. That'd had been the buzz yesterday -
the word had got around - the King was caught.
Joe remembered-out of the blue-when he'd first joined: It was good - belonging.
The toughest gang they were, too. That was down to Amos - he was as hard
as they come. Saw him yesterday - fallen from his pinnacle, he had. In
the prison yard he looked shrunk, beaten, bitter. Their eyes had tangled
and Joe saw the humiliation there - always dangerous. He remembered when
Amos had been at the top: he'd been cruel-over and above. Always ready
to twist that bit deeper, that bit further. Relished it. Joe left the
gang after a particular brutal rape - that wasn't for him.
Joe was curious about this King. He'd caught a glimpse yesterday-looked
soft - he'd taken some beating, for sure. He'd been there, in the exercise
yard. Given some by the soldiers who delivered him. They'd called him
the King. Joe hadn't heard of him before - perhaps he came from, oh, who
knows-some town up north. He didn't speak, so no accent to give him away.
He seemed to just take it all. But there wasn't much choice, after all.
No good fighting back - they just brought it on.
Been weird, though. He'd stumbled
through the streets, dressed up in some fine purple cloth. And more weird,
a crown on his head.
Amos' eyes had glinted at the sight-the pain turned him on-those thorns
digging deeply.
Roman law. Death on a cross. It seemed
that it was to be the three of them today.
Day break, and the shout went up. Joseph, they'd called. Amos. A touch
of irony that - ending up together on their last day. The King of the
Jews. The guards had shouted.
That meant a couple of hours, then
they'd be led out. The crosses would already be there, ready with the
nails, ready and waiting. Joe felt resigned. He knew this was coming.
Not Amos, though. You could hear him begin to whimper; begin to moan.
Irritating sound.
Nothing, as you'd expect, from the King.
Joe could hear him, though, in the next cell.
Reciting something-he strained to catch the words.
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble; therefore
we will not fear, though the earth be moved, and though the mountains
tremble in the heart of the sea …
The words stirred him. OK, thought Joe wryly, how many dead bed conversions
had he seen! Easy to be cynical. But he felt stirred none the less.
A very present help in trouble.
And then he heard:
Be still and know that I am God.
Be still and know that I am God. Joe heard the words-spoken directly into
his soul, it seemed. Be still. Know that I am God.
He found himself whispering - barely a whisper even - under his breath
- yes. Yes. Yes.
When the guards came, Amos was up for it. It took three or four to restrain
him-none too gently neither. He was led away first. The King came next
- and as Joe waited for him to take his place between them, this man gave
him such a look - a deep, penetrating gaze that entered his soul. Holding
him for - well, it seemed an eternity.
Nothing said. But such peace came over him. Joe had never experienced
such a profound peace, ever. It felt that everything soaked away, dissolved.
All the evil he'd done too. Everything. He felt naked, new born.
He felt desire-but such a pure desire that he couldn't find words. He
wanted to be with this King-now, and for ever. For ever. All his whole
body yearned for the peace he now knew - with a strength and a passion
that would take him through anything-yes, anything.
Be still and know that I am God. He knew.
When it came to it - yes, it hurt.
Excruciating, in fact. Amos screamed and screamed. And when he stopped
all he could do was taunt the King. Save us and yourself, Save us - you
fraud. Amos went on and on, on and on. Until Joseph could take it no more:
We're guilty, Amos - guilty as sin. This man is innocent. Leave him alone.
Amos went quiet-at last.
Joseph couldn't take his eyes of the King. Just hanging there, passive.
Every so often muttering something like 'forgive them' 'forgive them'.
But mainly just hanging there, waiting.
No, more than that. Yes, it seemed passive, but the King was doing something
more. He was stretching out his arms and holding up all the goodness of
the world to God. That's what it seemed, anyway. Just as the pain and
guilt and evil had dissolved away from Joseph, so it seemed that the whole
world was cleansed in that long moment. Like a river streaming through
the earth, flooding through all things.
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God; God is in the
midst of her.
It began to grow dark-little by little.
As if the light was fading on the old kingdoms - the kingdoms of power
and brutality, kingdoms of apathy and evil. Joseph knew that the King
was dying - the light was fading in his eyes - as he died the old kingdoms
were dying.
But it wasn't just death happening.
Something else enormous was occurring:
Something beyond his imagination. Something new to the heart of the world.
The earth was moving; the mountains were trembling in the heart of the
sea …
Be still and know that I am God -
words - The Word-echoing and resounding through all creation, making all
things new. A Kingdom of God being born.
And this man, dying on a cross, was the King before all things, in him
all things hold together.
In him is a new beginning. A new creation. He is the firstborn from the
dead, the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.
Joseph mustered his courage. Now
or never. He turned to the King.
Remember me when you come into your kingdom.
Yes, Joseph. Today you will be with me in paradise.
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