Golgotha Monologues - Joseph of Arimathea

It was great to see so many people at our Good Friday meeting on zoom this morning! If you weren’t able to join us, or you simply wanted to read them again, we will be posting all four of our monologues from this morning on the blog today! The monologues help to convey the feelings of four people mentioned in John 19.

Our fourth and final monologue is from the perspective of Joseph of Arimathea…

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“I’ve come for the body”, I said.

Pilate looked up – I think he recognised me from the Council.

“Please, can I take the body?”

We both knew who I was talking about

He spoke quietly to a guard who scurried away.  And Pilate nodded to the seats to the side – but I stood.  I waited.

It was getting dark by now – proper dark, and despite the hour, I stood.

Pilate busied himself, but glanced my way every few minutes – I think he looked curious, or it just might have been fatigue.

After what felt like an age, the guard returned and told Pilate what I already knew – Jesus was dead.

I realised then that I hadn’t stopped weeping since I walked in, perhaps that was what Pilate had been curious about.  I didn’t care, I stood where I was and said again – “Can I have the body?”

Pilate signed the warrant without a word and waved me away.  I didn’t outstay my welcome.

I got outside and looked around for Nico – he’d dosed off and I nudged him awake – “Joe?”  “Yes,” I said, “I’ve got it.” I helped him up and we stood there, hands clasped a little longer than intended.  It was good to have a friend.  We went quickly as we could – back to Golgotha.

The soldiers read the warrant and without ceremony they lifted the cruciform down, leaving us to take his body.

I think they enjoyed seeing two old men struggling with the nails, working them free, sobbing the whole time.  We worked together, neither of us were used to working with our hands and it wasn’t quick work.  We were soon bloody and hurting.  I noticed as we laboured, neither of us looked him in the face – part shame and part reluctance to look the truth in the eye.  Our Rabbi, our Lord had been silenced for good. 

“Come on, , let’s get this done,” Nico encouraged, “I got the spice, have you got the linen?”

I unrolled the strips of linen and we wrapped his body with spice, the scents doing nothing to disguise the finality of what we were doing.  We didn’t speak more than a few words, but there was comfort in the ritual that we were both practiced in - treating the body of a well-loved friend or one of our family with the honour they deserve.  This was no different in some ways, though we were short of time.  We dispensed with the normal psalm recitation – bowed together with a short prayer, affirming that divine judgment is righteous, despite what our hearts felt.

“Joe, come on, formal mourning will have to wait.”  I suppose Nico could see my hesitancy.  It felt callous to treat the Rabbi this way – but it was the law, we had to hurry.  We laid him in my unused tomb, seemed the least I could offer him.  And we left him in the darkness.

Nico gave me an uncharacteristic hug – there in the garden, in the silence and I sobbed again.  

I couldn’t help but think back - 

“I am the way the truth and the life, he’d said.

I am the bread of life, he’d said

The Spirit gives life, he’d said

He promised us the light of life.

He promised life to the full.

I am the resurrection, he’d said.

What’s going on, Nico?!!?

Was it all just words – just figurative language?  Was this too just a parable?

What’s in the name of Jehovah is going on?!

And we wept together as we walked home.

Written by Steve Page

Golgotha Monologues - Mary

It was great to see so many people at our Good Friday meeting on zoom this morning! If you weren’t able to join us, or you simply wanted to read them again, we will be posting all four of our monologues from this morning on the blog today! The monologues help to convey the feelings of four people mentioned in John 19.

Our third monologue is from the perspective of Mary, the mother of Jesus…

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I stood there overwhelmed by unbelief and sorrow.  What Simeon had spoken to me, 33 years earlier kept whirling round my head ‘Your own heart shall be pierced with a sword’,  

Yes. That’s how I felt – it was almost a physical pain… I could hardly stand.  I thought my legs would give way any moment. I leant on John, and he whispered ‘it’s okay, Mary, I’m here’ as he put his arm around me.

I looked up at my Son, Jesus, the Promise of Israel, now bloodied and dying for all to see.

The teachers of the Law and some of the Sanhedrin were there too.  They hurled insults at Him and each one twisted the sword further in my heart.  ‘He saved others, he cannot save himself’, ‘come down from the cross and we will believe in you’ they challenged.  But I knew as He knew that this was not true! Hadn’t He given them plenty of proof before that He was the promised Messiah? Yet most of them had not been willing to give Him a chance. They were afraid of Him, jealous of Him.

And then I heard Him whisper ‘Father forgive them for they know not what they do!’ 

Unbelievable!  Fresh tears came into my tired eyes!  Forgive them?  For the way they had contributed to his torture, His agony? And for even now, at the end, having no mercy? I wanted to hit them, to make them suffer just a little of what my Son was going through! Jesus, Jesus, my Son, will I ever learn from You? And as I thought this He looked straight at where I was standing with John. His eyes were full of blood. Almost closed.  I realised He was trying to speak to me, to us, so I pushed John closer.

‘Dear Mother’ He said in a barely audible voice, ‘behold your son’. and His face moved slowly and painfully towards John.

I wanted to shout, No, YOU are my Son, not John, not anyone else, I don’t want anyone else, but His beautiful face, full of compassion and yes, sorrow for me, prevented me from doing so.  The tears now streamed uninhibited down my face. I nodded so He could see I was in agreement with this new arrangement. 

Then His eyes were on John, standing there right next to me.  ‘John’, He whispered, with an urgency in His voice ‘Behold your mother’. And as John tightened his arm round my shoulders, I could see a fleeting look of relief in His eyes.  He had provided for me, His mother.  The faithful Son, right up to the end! 

Like that day at the wedding feast of Cana, when I had asked Him to do something about the wine to help out Samuel and Ruth.  He had humoured me, because He loved me.  And them. 

Memories now flooded my mind… not just of Him with me, but with so many others… the widow’s son, being carried on the pyre on his way to his funeral; Jairus’ daughter; our good friend, Lazarus!  He raised them all from the dead… and people clapped and cheered and said ‘Surely the Messiah has come!’ and less than a week ago they were looking to crown Him king, as he entered Jerusalem on a donkey…  

He was doing so well – healing the sick, the blind, the lame, loving the outcasts, the marginalised…literally thousands hanging on to His every word for days…  I was so proud of Him.

And now – here He was, my Son, gasping for breath! At the mercy of these Roman soldiers…

An anguished silent cry came from deep within me, as I groped about in the dark. Questions tumbled into my mind, one after another.

What happened?  

Why did it happen?  

God, why did You let it happen? 

You could have stopped it! He could have been king, instead of suffering this cruel, undeserved death! 

Why, God, was there not another way for You to have achieved Your purposes?

Now – He is almost dead.  End of everything! What, oh God, have You accomplished through this unnecessary suffering of my Son whom I love?

Suddenly I remembered the Angel Gabriel’s words about Jesus when he told me I would be with child. ‘He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High… and of His kingdom there shall be no end’.  No end, no end, no end? And so – what is all this, how can this happen, as He hangs on that cross…Aloud I whispered ‘I don’t know, I don’t know…’ But surely – God would not lie?

Hope, like a slither of sunlight, somehow began to creep into my dark, agonised mind.

What had the Angel Gabriel said to me when he told me I would become His mother and I had asked in bewilderment ‘How can this be, since I am a virgin?’ He had said ‘NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE WITH GOD!’

Slowly a supernatural peace began to enter my heart as I pondered on the Angel’s words. 

I glanced at Jesus again.  His eyes met mine. There was torture there, yes, but now I saw something else. In the midst of this there was peace – and hope! The crooked half smile He gave me was the most wonderful smile I had ever seen… for in it I could see a future. For Him. For me, for all humanity!

With dawning realisation, I thought ‘His birth was a miracle from God, His death has been accepted by God, and with God, He can live again!’ Incredibly, inch by inch, hope was pushing out the unbelief… the pain… the despair!

And as a few seconds later, with a loud cry, He said ‘Father, into Your hands I commit my spirit’ I knew my Son had won, somehow He had won! 

Even though it felt like my heart had been pierced not by one, but by so many swords, a new sensation of anticipation and excitement had also begun to enter my heart so that I was able to turn to John and say through my tears : ‘It is over, and yet it has only just begun!’ 

Written by Adele Dabrowski

Golgotha Monologues - Soldier

It was great to see so many people at our Good Friday meeting on zoom this morning! If you weren’t able to join us, or you simply wanted to read them again, we will be posting all four of our monologues from this morning on the blog today! The monologues help to convey the feelings of four people mentioned in John 19.

Our second monologue is from the perspective of a soldier…

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I really REALLY hate this job

Years of training, promises that’ll serve Caesar ‘for the glory of Rome!’ and see the world 

– and I end up in this God-forsaken, stinking, armpit of a country, populated by mad men.  

[SIGH]

Here we go again – bigger crowd than usual I see – oh that’s great, another messiah to crucify.  Will they ever learn?  

Well, that makes a change, even his own lot seem to be against him, they’re usually chanting, weeping or whaling by the time they get here, not jeering and calling for blood.  Like I said – mad men!

Yes, boss, straight away.

Up you come, matey.  This is your cross to bear.  

Move!  You know you only have yourself to blame – you brought this on yourself - 

Stand back you lot, give the man room.  We’re on a schedule. 

Right, boss.

Come on, Fix, you’re with me – let’s get this done.  Claud, Jules, you know the drill, do it like we practiced – tie him securely, one nail in each lower arm, one though the feet. 

Oh, just Ignore him, hold him firm, one of yer hold the arm and the other take the nail.  That’s right, one swift movement, do it right first time - it’ll be enough to hold him.    

Claud, get a hold of yourself, its only blood.  Be professional – there’s a crowd watching.  

Where’s that notice board, what’s to be written here?  What’s the charge, boss?  

Is that meant to be funny?  No, I didn’t mean anything by it, if that’s what Pilate wants, here you go, “JESUS – OF – NAZ -A -RETH.   - THE - KING - OF - THE - JEWS.“ 

What – no mate, I’m not re-writing anything – it is what is it.   THE KING OF THE JEWS – what’s written is written. 

Fix – do you think the boss is behaving a bit strange?  He seems a little distracted.

Never mind.  Okay – here Fix, it’s your turn to divi up his stuff.  Hang on, no don’t rip that – look, it’s quality, seamless.  Throw the dice for that one.  

Jules, keep an eye on those women.  No, they can chat to him, but no touching the cross.

Yeah, okay, but they use the sponge – and only wine vinegar – he won’t be needing decent wine where he’s going.

Right, boss, we’re done, we’ll settle in for the wait – this may take a while.  

… What’s that he said? “Finished!?!”  Hah, don’t you wish.   It’s nowhere finished for you lad – you’ve got a world of pain coming before you can shuffle off.  

Sorry boss.  Disrespect?  Come on , he’s just a – No, of course, no, no … sorry.

Blimey Fix, I think the boss has been here too long, he’s saying some strange stuff.

…. What do you mean he’s gone.  It’s only been a few hours.  

Show me – no give it here, I’ll do it.  

… Well, he is dead.  No, no need to break his legs, he’s finished. 

That doesn’t make sense – I know my job, 

• Did he just decide to die? 

• Who’s in charge here – Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews, or me?

• Who has the authority here?  This Jesus or us?  

WILL YOU SHUT THOSE WOMEN UP!  I can’t think.

Listen, Fix, let’s keep quiet about this – we’ve got a reputation to maintain.

What?  Now boss, calm down.  Listen to yourself – I know he died a bit different than expected – but the Son of God?  Boss, are those tears? 

I don’t know, Fix – this has got too weird.  

I REALLY hate this job.

Written by Steve Page

Golgotha Monologues - Pilate

It was great to see so many people at our Good Friday meeting on zoom this morning! If you weren’t able to join us, or you simply wanted to read them again, we will be posting all four of our monologues from this morning on the blog today! The monologues help to convey the feelings of four people mentioned in John 19.

Our first monologue is from the perspective of Pilate…

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Stepping outside was the mistake.

Greeting those Jews, just part of the job, but there I was...outside my palace...and there they were...and there...he was. Surrounded by his accusers and his governor...(that’s me)...yet wearing a calmer expression than all of us, as if he were Caesar himself, about to step onto his chariot for a lap of victory.

Resigned to his destiny...but not intimidated by it.

“Not my problem!” was the line I took, but they would not take the bait.

And neither would he, even in the face of his governor, the one holding his future in the palm of my hand! And so I choose…compassion.

A rare show of true justice and mercy.

Praise be to Pilate.

...

I did what I had done many times before. A carefully crafted question, creating a collaborative truth we could step into together: “Your kingdom accuses you, so step into mine.”

And yet the man will not bow to a convenient “truth”:

King of everything, more than King of the Jews.

So what else can I do? The man who came in as an inconvenience for the priests, themselves an inconvenience for me, places himself as my enemy.

I attempted mercy.

But my justice is justified. A swift flogging, mock the king of fools, and think no more about it.

“Problem solved!” I think and I say…but they disagree.

“Crucify him!” their reply.

Really? A bit of roughing up I can do, but surely this lunatic doesn’t deserve death…certainly not like that. I’ll try a different tack.

“Not my problem.”

But in their eyes I should be the solution, and that was the moment...the fear set in.

I was too far gone.

I should have never admitted his guilt.

I should have never spoken to him in the first place.

I should have never granted those religious fools an audience.

And this time the man won’t even respond except to bring his God in, and...perhaps offer me a way out of this mess.

“Right!” I demand of the accusers, a newfound courage filling my lungs. “I’m governor, and I say he’s going free.”

But what does a person do when his livelihood is threatened?

The fear grows in me: am I more afraid of Caesar, or of God?

I am trapped. It’s my job security or his life, and so I double down. If I will be saved by his being crucified, then I will do it the right way.

I will sit on the judgement seat.

I will write his inscription.

And let that be an end to it.

What was I to do?

Should I have sacrificed everything I’ve worked for, for the name of this Jesus?

I’m sure I’ve made other compromises anyway. What’s one more?

Written by Sam Isaacson

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We know there were some audio issues with this monologue, so the video is below for those who wish to watch it again!