THECENTURION'SSTORY DAVID JAMES BURRELL AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY150 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK COPYRIGHT, 1892 and 1911, By AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY THE CENTURION'S STORY I am an old man now; the burden of fourscore years is resting upon me. But the events of a certain April day in the year 783 A. U. C. --fullhalf a century ago--are as fresh in my memory as if they had happenedyesterday. At that time I was stationed with my Hundred on garrison duty at theCastle of Antonia, in Jerusalem. I had been ordered to take charge ofthe execution of a malefactor who had just been sentenced to death. Accordingly, on the morning of the day mentioned, I selected twelveof my men, such as were hardened to bloody deeds, and with them Iproceeded to the Prætorium. All was hurry and excitement there. Asit was the time of the Jewish Passover, the city was thronged withstrangers. A multitude of people had assembled and were clamoring forthe death of this man. On our arrival he was brought forth. He provedto be that Prophet of Nazareth whose oracular wisdom and wonder-workingpower had been everywhere noised abroad. I had heard much about him. He claimed to be the Messiah for whose advent the Jews had been lookingfrom time immemorial; and his disciples believed it. They called him bysuch well-known Messianic titles as "Son of Man, " "Son of David" and"Son of God. " He spoke of himself as "the only-begotten Son of God, "declaring that he had been "in the bosom of the Father before the worldwas, " and that he was now manifest in human form to expiate the world'ssin. This was regarded by the religious leaders as rank blasphemy andthey clamored for his death. He was tried before the Roman court, whichrefused to consider the charge, inasmuch as it involved a religiousquestion not lying within its jurisdiction; but the prisoner, beingturned over to the Sanhedrin, was found worthy of death for "makinghimself equal with God. " I remember him well as he appeared that day. From what I had heard Iwas prepared to see a hard-faced impostor or a fanatic with frenzy inhis eyes. He was a man of middle stature, with a face of strikingbeauty and benignity, eyes of mingled light and warmth, and auburn hairfalling over his shoulders. It was not strange that he looked pale andhaggard; for he had passed through three judicial ordeals since thelast sunset, besides being scourged with the _flagellum horrible_ andexposed to the rude buffeting of the midnight guard. He had beenclothed in the cast-off purple of the Roman procurator and wore aderisive crown of thorns. But, as he issued from the Hall of Judgment, such was his commanding presence that the multitude was hushed andseparated to make way. The cross, constructed of transverse beams of sycamore, was brought andlaid upon his shoulders. About his neck was suspended a titulum onwhich was inscribed, _Jesu Nazaret, Rex Judæorum_. I was told thatthe Jewish leaders had objected to his being called their King; butPilate, by whose orders the titulum was prepared, was for some reasoninsistent and answered them shortly, "What I have written, I havewritten. " It was easy to see, however, that they bitterly resented it. At the accustomed signal my quaternions fell into the line and theprocession moved on. I rode before, clearing the way. The peoplethronged the narrow streets, crying more and more loudly as weproceeded, "_Staurosate! Staurosate!_ Crucify him!" The Nazarene, weak from long vigils and suffering, bowed low under hisburden. A woman in the company, by name Veronica, pressed near andwiped the dust and blood from his haggard face. It was reported thatthe napkin when withdrawn bore the impress of his face, marred, butdivinely beautiful. Whether this be true or not I cannot say. As the multitude surged onward toward the Jaffa gate, a cobbler namedAhasuerus, as if moved by a malignant spirit, thrust his foot beforethe prisoner, who stumbled thereat and fell. In punishment for thatcruel deed he is said to be still a wanderer upon the earth with norest for his weary feet. This, too, is a mere legend; but certainly Ihave found, even in the grim business of a soldier, that retributionlike a fury pursues all pitiless men. We passed through the Jaffa gate and entered upon the steep roadleading to the place of execution. The sun flamed down upon us; we wereenveloped in a cloud of dust. The prisoner at length, overborne by hiscross, fell beneath it. We seized upon an Ethiopian who chanced to bein the throng and placed the burden upon him. Strange to tell, heassumed it without a murmur; insomuch that by many he was suspected ofbeing a secret follower of Jesus. As we surged on with din and uproar a group of women standing by thewayside rent the air with shrill lamentations, on hearing which Jesussaid, "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but for yourselves andyour children; for behold the days come when they shall say to themountains, Fall on us! and to the hills, Cover us!" It was a weirdprophecy, and ere a generation passed it was to the letter fulfilled. There were those in that company who lived to see the Holy Citycompassed about by a forest of hostile spears. Its inhabitants werebrought low by famine and pestilence, insomuch that the eyes of mothersrested hungrily on the white flesh of their own children. On thesurrounding heights crosses were reared, on which hundreds of Jewishcaptives died the shameful death. Despair fell upon all. And in thosedays there were not a few who called to mind the ominous words of theNazarene, "Weep not for me, but for yourselves and for your childrenafter you!" The road we journeyed has since been known as Via Dolorosa. It led tothe round knoll called Golgotha, from its resemblance to a skull. As wedrew nigh we perceived two crosses, already reared, on which twothieves of Barabbas' band had been suspended in agony for some hours. Their twisted bodies stood out grimly against the sky. Our prisoner, asan added mark of obloquy, was to be crucified between them. Our spears and standards were lowered, and Jesus, being stripped of hisouter garments, was laid prostrate upon his cross. A soldier approachedwith hammer and spikes, at sight of whom the frenzied multitude ceasedtheir revilings for the moment and pressed near. The prisoner preservedhis calm demeanor. A stupefying draught was offered him; but he refusedit, apparently preferring to look death calmly in the face. Hestretched out his hands; the hammer fell. At the sight of blood the mob broke forth again, crying, "_Staurosate!_"But not a word escaped the sufferer. As the nails tore through thequivering flesh his eyes closed and his lips moved as if he wereholding communion with some invisible One. Then with a great wrench thecross was lifted into the socket prepared for it. At this moment the first word escaped him. With a look of reproach andan appealing glance to heaven, he cried, "Father, forgive them; theyknow not what they do!" It was as if he were covering our heads with ashield of prayer. In this he did but practise his own rule of charityand doctrine of forgiveness, "Love your enemies, bless them that curseyou, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefullyuse you. " His prayer, however, seemed but to rouse anew the fury of his enemies. They cried out in mockery, "Come down! come down from thy cross. Thouthat boastest of destroying the Temple and rebuilding it in three days, save thyself!" The priests and rabbis, standing by, joined in themockery, saying, "Aha, he saved others, himself he cannot save! Let himcome down if he be the Messiah, the chosen of God!" My soldiersmeanwhile disputed as to the apportionment of his garments; I noted therattling of dice in the brazen helmet wherein they were casting lotsfor his seamless robe. The thieves on either hand joined for a time in the mockery; butpresently a change came over the one upon the right, whose name wasDysmas. This man, like his fellow, had belonged to a notorious band of robberswho infested the road to Jericho. His life had been passed in bloodywork; but the patient demeanor of Jesus touched his heart and convincedhim that He was indeed the veritable Son of God. The other thief joinedin the mockery, but Dysmas remonstrated with him, saying, "Dost thounot even fear God? We indeed are condemned justly, receiving the duereward of our deeds; but this man hath done nothing amiss. " Thenpresently, turning his pain-racked eyes toward Jesus, he entreated, "Lord, remember me when thou comest in thy kingdom!" The Nazarenestraightway turned upon him a look of compassionate love, saying, "To-day thou shalt be with me in paradise!" An hour later this robber's head sank upon his breast; but in death hisface wore a look of indescribable peace. The time came when the word ofpardon addressed to this man was a message of hope and comfort to othergreat sinners. He who saved Dysmas in the article of death, pluckinghim from the edge of the abyss, was thenceforth believed by Hisfollowers to be able to save even unto the uttermost all who would comeunto Him. Not far from the cross stood a company of women wringing their hands inhelpless grief. Among them was the mother of Jesus. When her infant sonhad been brought to the Jewish Temple, an old priest took him from hismother's arms and prophesied, "This child is set for the fall and riseof many in Israel"; then looking upon the mother, he said: "A swordshall pass through thine own soul also. " At this moment his word wasfulfilled; the iron entered her soul. Her dying Son beheld her, and, with his eyes directing her to one who was known as his favoritedisciple, he said, "Woman, behold thy Son!" and this disciple thereuponbore her fainting away. It was now noon, clear, scorching, Syrian noon. But a singular mist wasgathering before the sun. Shadows fell from the heights of Moab; and asthey deepened more and more the gleam on shield and helmet faded out. Night rose from the ravines, surging upward in dark billows, overwhelming all. A strange pallor rested on all faces. It was night, an Egyptian night at high noon! What meant it? Manifestlythis was no eclipse, for the paschal moon was then at its full. TheJews had ofttimes clamored for a sign, a sign whereby they might testthis sufferer's Messianic claim. Had the sign come? Was nature nowsympathizing with her Lord? Were these shadows the trappings of auniversal woe? Was God manifesting his wrath against sin? Or was thisdarkness a stupendous figure of the position in which the dyingNazarene stood with respect to the deliverance of the race from sin? Once in a Jewish synagogue I heard a rabbi read from the scroll ofIsaiah a prophecy concerning the Messiah; that he was to be "woundedfor our transgressions and bruised for our iniquities; that by hisstripes we might be healed. " It was predicted that when this Messiahcame he should, bearing the world's burden of sin, go into the outerdarkness in expiatory pain. Was it at this awful moment that he carriedthat burden into the region of the lost? Did he just then descend intohell for us? Hark! a cry from his fever-parched lips, piercing the silence and thedarkness, "_Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?_ My God, my God, why hast Thouforsaken me?" Save for that terrific cry of anguish the silence wasunbroken for three mortal hours. I have known other victims of the cross to vent their rage in impotentwrath, to spit their hate like asps, to harangue the crowd withhelpless protestations, or to beg for the death-stroke; but this Jesuspreserved a majestic silence. The people also seemed wrapped in a weirdterror. Naught was heard but the rattling of armor as some soldierjostled his comrade, or the sobbing of women or the dropping of blood. Thus until the ninth hour of the day. It was now the time of the evening sacrifice, and the darkness beganslowly to lift. Then the Nazarene uttered his only word of complaint:"I thirst. " Whereupon a strange thing happened. One of my soldiers, trained in the arena and in gladiatorial contests--a man who had neverbeen known to spare a foe, delighting in the sack of cities, looking onunmoved when children were dashed against the stones--this man dipped asponge in the sour wine which was provided for the guard, and wouldhave raised it to the sufferer's lips. But the Jews cried out, "Let be, let be! Let us see if Eli will come to help him!" For a moment thesoldier hesitated, even joined in the cry; then giving way to the moremerciful promptings of his heart, lifted the sponge and assuaged thethirst of the dying man. It was the only deed of kindness I noted onGolgotha that day. In return for it the Nazarene cast upon hisbenefactor such a look of gratitude that he was ever after a differentman. His nature seemed to be transformed by it. Then Jesus cried with a loud voice, "_Tetelestai!_ It is finished!" Didthis signify that his pain was over? Well might he, after such anguish, utter a sigh of relief. Or was it that his mission was accomplished? Sohave I seen a laborer turn homeward from his day's work with pleasantanticipation of rest. So have I seen a wayfarer quicken his footstepsas, at eventide, he came in sight of the village lights. So have I seena soldier, weary with the stress of conflict and wounded unto death, bear the standard aloft as he climbed the parapet and with his lastvoice shouted for victory! And then the last word. It was spoken softly, as if from the thresholdof the other world, "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit!" Then, as he yielded up the ghost, a look of surpassing peace fell upon hisupturned face, which lingered even after death had put its rigid sealupon it. Thus he fell on sleep. I have ofttimes since been reminded ofthat look when I have seen an infant lulled in its mother's arms, orwhen, walking through a Christian cemetery, I have noted upon thetombstones of martyrs the word "_Dormit_: He sleeps. " The supernatural darkness had now given way to a calm twilight. The skywas covered far toward the zenith with a golden splendor crossed withbars of crimson light. It looked as if heaven's gates were opened; andone gazing through could almost seem to see the flitting of superhumanshapes and hear far-away voices calling, "Lift up your heads, O yegates; even lift them up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of Gloryshall come in!" At that moment the earth rumbled under my feet; a shudder seemed topass through nature. It was said that as the high priest was kindlingthe lamps in the Holy Place of the Temple, in connection with theevening sacrifice, the great veil hanging before the Holy of Holies wasrent from the top to the bottom as if by an unseen hand. This happenedat the instant when the Nazarene yielded up his spirit, and hisfollowers are wont to say that when he passed from earth to resume hisheavenly glory a new and living way was opened up for penitent sinnersinto the Holiest of All. The execution being over, the people slowly dispersed to their homes. Twilight settled down on Golgotha. A group of wailing women lingeredfor a while, then went their way. Against the sky stood forth the threecrosses. On the uplifted face of Dysmas the moonlight showed the lookof ineffable peace that had settled upon it. The face of the otherrobber was fallen upon his breast. In the midst Jesus looked upward, dead but triumphant! Long and steadfastly I gazed upon him. The eventsof the day crowded fast upon my mind and my conviction deepened thatthis was no impostor, no fanatic, no common man. My conscience was soresmitten; my heart was inexpressibly touched by the memory of the thingswhich I had seen; and, with scarcely an intention, I said aloud, butsoftly, "Verily, this was a righteous man. " Then I reined my horse and rode down the hill. The lights were kindlingin Jerusalem; the beacon on the Castle of Antonia was beginning toglow. At a little distance I drew rein and looked back at Golgotha. Hiscross was there outlined against the sky. I felt myself in the grip ofa mighty passion of doubt and wonder! Who was he? Who was he? I wouldgo back and see! I dismounted beneath his cross and gazed upward, unmindful of thestrange looks which my soldiers cast upon me. Tears came to my eyes, old campaigner though I was, tears of grief, of penitence, of dawningfaith. I knelt; I prostrated myself before the Christ who hung dead onthat accursed tree. I rose again and saw him. Dead? Nay, living!--living evermore in the glory which he had with the Fatherbefore the world was! The truth went surging irresistibly through mysoul; until at length, able to restrain myself no longer, I cried, caring not though the world heard me, "Verily, this was the Son ofGod!" * * * * * I am old now, and the end draws near. For half a century I have lovedand served Him. I have known trials and sorrows not a few, but Hispresence has upheld me. The promise he gave his disciples the nightbefore his death has been my mainstay: "Lo, I am with you alway!" Inthe faith of that promise I have seen men and women die with the lightof heaven on their faces, heroic amid the flames, triumphant before thelion's eyes. I have heard them once and again protesting with theirlast breath, "_Christianus sum!_ I am a Christian!" I, too, am a Christian, and humbly proud of it. The cross in my timehas been transformed from an emblem of shame into a symbol of triumph. And the Christ who suffered upon it has been made unto me wisdom andrighteousness and sanctification and redemption. He is my first, mylast, my midst and all in all. I have learned somewhat of the meaningof his life and death and glorious resurrection. Many wonderful hopeshave I; but the best is this, that I--the soldier who had charge of hiscrucifixion--may yet behold his face in peace; that I, who bowed thatnight with broken heart beneath his cross, may some day look upon theKing in his beauty and fall before him, crying, "My Lord and my God!"