The Nails - Part II

How many days had Jonathan wandered looking for anyone? Had it been weeks? Months? Years? He certainly had lost count and had no conception of the passage of time. He wasn’t wearing a suit anymore, but had picked up some casual clothes somewhere along the way. He had given up trying to shave so now he had a full beard and his hair was shoulder length. Each day he awoke and spoke the names of those he loved – hoping that somehow by calling their name they would appear. At first, he had limited his chant to his immediate family – his wife and his children. But soon, he had expanded to his parents, his sister and two brothers, and his in-laws. Eventually, he was calling out the names of everyone he knew. It was as much a matter of maintaining his sanity as it was anything else. He wandered from city to city, calling out the names of those he knew and loved, but secretly hoping that he would find anyone at all. It was somewhat of a ritual, now, though because he had long since lost any hope of ever seeing anyone again. He hadn’t admitted it to himself yet, but Jonathan knew in his heart of hearts that he was totally alone in the world.

It was just about the time that Jonathan was ready to make that confession that he heard a sound in the distance. He was leaving the city limits of a small town in the Midwest and in the distance he could faintly but clearly hear the sound of a large, heavy hammer hitting a nail. Jonathan was both scared and excited as he ran toward the sound.

When he was about 150 yards away, Jonathan pulled up short because he finally saw what was causing the noise. From this distance he could see that there were three men there. One was lying down, with his arms spread wide. He was lying on something, but Jonathan could not tell from this distance what it was. Whatever it was, though, the other two men were nailing him down to it! He couldn’t believe his eyes, so he rubbed them to make sure he was not hallucinating. No, it was real. They were nailing his left hand down to whatever it was the man way lying on.

“STOP IT!” he yelled as he ran towards the three. They paid him no notice, but moved from the left hand to the right hand and continued hammering. As Jonathan quickly closed the gap, he yelled again “WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP!” He did not even slow down as he plowed shoulder first into the man with the large hammer, sending the man sprawling across the ground and the hammer spiraling up into the air. Both the man and the hammer landed about 15 yards away. Jonathan himself tumbled as a result of the blow but quickly pulled himself up so that he could take a run at the second man, who was still holding the large nail to the third man’s wrists.

Suddenly Jonathan realized and wondered at the fact that the man was not fighting to free himself. As he walked up to the two, he stood in shock and awe as he realized what he was seeing. It was a classic crucifixion scene like he had seen played out so many times during Easter passion plays. This scene, however, was not a play and was not fake. The man lying on the cross was naked and was literally being nailed down, but he gave no resistance. His body was bruised, battered, and bloody as if he had been beaten. There was a crown of thorns in his head just like he had seen in the pictures. The man was clearly in agony. Jonathan didn’t recognize him, and he certainly did not look like the paintings of Jesus that he had seen all his life. He looked at the two men, who were dressed as Midwest farmers. The one he had tackled was standing up and retrieving the hammer.

“What is this, what is going on?” Jonathan demanded.

The man holding the hammer simply walked back over to the cross. He did not, however, return to his hammering. Rather, he held the hammer out for Jonathan to take and simply said

“Finish it.”

Jonathan was horrified, but he held his composure, knocked the hammer out of the farmer’s hand, and simply said “No, this is insane.” Suddenly the two men were gone. Only Jonathan remained with the man lying on the wooden cross. The man looked at Jonathan and even though he was battered and disfigured, he could see clearly the love in his eyes.

“Jonathan.” His voice was strained through the pain, but when he said his name, Jonathan knew who he was. It was like a parent calling out a child’s name. But how could this be? How could this really be Jesus? Jonathan’s head swam and he thought he would faint, but when Jesus said his name again he recovered his senses.

“I don’t understand” he said. “What is happening?”

“You must complete the task, Jonathan. It is for you that I do this.”

“No… you can’t… not for me… I’m not worth it!”

“Yes, Jonathan, for you. Even though you are the only person in the whole world, I must die for you.” Tears began streaming down Jonathan’s face. “Now take up the hammer and finish it.”
Slowly, Jonathan reached down and picked up the hammer. He held it over his head and hesitated.

“No” he whispered again, but the loving eyes of Jesus said what his voice did not…

“Yes.”

Jonathan close his eyes and let the hammer fall. With the deafening sound of the hammer hitting the nail, Jonathan’s mind flashed to his childhood. He could see himself bullying little Sally from next door. Laughing as he pushed her down. The tears continued rolling down his face as he raised the hammer again. This time, when the hammer fell, he saw himself as a teenager in Algebra class, cheating on a test. Each and every time the hammer fell, he saw himself again and again in some act of disgrace or evil. Jonathan cringed at things that he had long since forgotten. To the world, Jonathan was a good man… but at the same time he was not a good man. So many hidden sins. So many secrets. So many memories. Arguments with his wife… little acts of indiscretion… compromises of his integrity.

As he moved from Jesus’ hands to his feet, Jonathan said weakly “I did this to you?”
Jesus did not respond.

By the time Jonathan completed nailing his feet, he was weeping uncontrollably. He walked over to the head of the cross and began lifting the cross. Jonathan strained as he raised the human-laden cross and set it into the hole in the ground especially prepared for that purpose. When the cross was fully raised, Jonathan approached Jesus and began kissing his bloodied feet. He was still weeping and as his face became covered with the blood from Jesus’ feet, he simply said “I’m sorry” and he collapsed into a sobbing mess at the foot of the cross, covering his face with his hands in shame and sorrow.

Jonathan had no idea how long he sat there. It may have been minutes or hours or even days, but it wasn’t until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder that he uncovered his face from his hands and looked around. The cross was gone, but Jesus was standing next to him. Jesus reached down and gently lifted him to his feet. He was fully clothed in white linen. He seemed to glow and a gentle, loving smile was on his face.

“Jonathan,” he said, “do you love me?”

Jonathan wasn’t exactly sure why he was asking the question and suddenly he remembered a similar scene from the Bible… the gospel of John if he recalled correctly. The correct response if he was not mistaken was “Lord, you know I love you.” But as he started to say it, Jonathan noticed on the horizon a large crowd of people making their way toward the two. At this distance, he could not make out who they were, but they were definitely headed that way. Jonathan pointed towards the crowd and opened his mouth to ask about them, but he hesitated as Jesus said it again.

“Do you love me, Jonathan?”

The crowd was now growing closer. They were still generally too far away for him to distinguish faces for the most part, but out in front of all of them were four that he could clearly distinguish even at this distance. It was Gena and his three children. He wanted to rush to them, but he wanted to stay with Jesus. He was torn, but for the moment anyway, he stayed.

“Yes, Lord, I love you.”

Once more Jesus asked the question. “Jonathan, do you really love me. Do you love me more than these? Do you love me more than anything else in all the world?”

The question cut to his soul. His time in solace had made Jonathan keenly aware of how much he loved his family. He would do anything for them. He looked up and could clearly make them out now, walking toward him. He could make out others as well. In fact, he knew them all. It was all those whose names he had been calling each day. Everyone in his sphere of influence was now coming his way. He was somewhat taken aback by how many there were, but he quickly realized that over the last days and weeks he had grown to love them all – even in their absence. Yes, he loved them all. But did he love them more than he loved Jesus? He realized now what Jesus had done for him. He never really realized it before. He never really comprehended that it was because of him that Jesus had to die. He was grateful for that. He was even more grateful that death had not contained him. It was true. He did love Jesus and he loved him more than all these. Jonathan turned from the approaching crowd and looked at Jesus.

“Yes, Lord… I love you even more than these.”

Jonathan’s family was only about 100 yards away now. Jesus looked deep into Jonathan’s eyes and replied… “Then feed my sheep.”

Jonathan sat up in bed with a gasp. His face was sweating – or was it tears? He looked over at the alarm clock, which was glowing a dim blue in the darkness of his bedroom. It was 3:30 a.m. His wife was sleeping peacefully at his side. Was it a dream? And yet it seemed so real. Could it have really happened? There was no denying that it at least felt real. He could remember the days and weeks and months of wandering aimlessly and alone, but now he was back in his bed as if nothing had ever happened.

A dream - that is what it was. It was a dream. But it was also real to him and he knew that he would never be the same as a result. He would be a better father and husband. He would be the spiritual leader of their family. He would not be defined by the office, but rather would be defined by the savior. He would stop running from his calling. He would teach his family and his friends the truths of scripture. He would take a stand.

Jonathan raised his hand up to wipe the sweat – or was it tears – from his face. Only then did he realize that he was grasping on to something tightly. So tightly in fact that his hands were white. Slowly, he opened his hand to reveal what was inside – two small miniature masonry nails.

It was a dream… right?

Note: Even if you were the only person on the Earth, Jesus would have still died for you!