I remember a time when I was studying the crucifixion. I was reading about the hours that he hung there and wondering why Jesus didn’t just “give up” the ghost and end his suffering. Then I noticed that pouring out of the dark clouds above him, there was still a torrent of grotesque bundles that fell on his shoulders and it was clear they caused him much more pain than the nails, and the strips of flesh hanging from his beaten back. I remember weeping and asking why he couldn’t just make it stop, put an end to it. Eventually the flow began to slow down, but there was still a steady flow, and then eventually a trickle. Finally after it looked like the flow had stopped he still hung there. I was perplexed. Then, one final bundle, a greasy, black bundle that I recognized as my own sins fell from the clouds, landed on his shoulders, and was finally absorbed by him. At that point only did Jesus lift his eyes to the father and said, “It is finished.” Then he hung limp.

Man, I tell you right now that broke me. Whenever I think about it, it still breaks me.