dailypage home christianity comments creationorevolution Music Son of God Book

Son of God

The Musical


Son of God Book Son of God Book




Son of God Book

Son of God

The unmistakable sounds of a tiny baby, wrapped lovingly in clean clothes, came through the wisps of straw protruding from the sides of the trough.

You're the Son of God. You're the Son of God.

You are the Son of God.

You're the Son of God. You're the Son of God.

You are the Son of God.

By You were all things made

In heaven and on earth

Things seen and unseen

Thrones, dominions and all powers.

You're the Son of God. You're the Son of God.

You are the Son of God.

You're before all things.

By You all things consist.

You're first in everything.

All fullness dwells in You.

You're the Son of God. You're the Son of God.

You are the Son of God.

Though in God's own form

You did not cling there to stay

But You emptied what You were

To be a man - a slave.

You're the Son of God. You're the Son of God.

You are the Son of God.

You're the Son of God. You're the Son of God.

You are the Son of God.

"You dare to suggest that there is something God could do for humans that He has not done yet?" demanded the angel, resuming the argument as though nothing had intervened since his last comment in the bedroom. "When He gave up everything to become like you? Well, you've seen nothing yet. Now look. This was for you."

Still with his hands firmly in the angel’s grip, again Pete felt the dizziness. When he opened his eyes this time, it was a very different scene before him. There were crowds of people everywhere, with dozens of Roman soldiers in line keeping the people where they wanted them. Pete was standing near the top of a hill, and the horror before him was something totally outside of his experience. Two men, screaming in agony, were tied to crosses, with nails driven through their hands and feet. Splashes of blood fell like rain around the crosses, and Pete felt revulsion pour through his body.

As he watched, a third man, who could barely walk, was half-dragged up the hill and roughly pushed down to a third cross, ropes lashing his arms securely to the cross piece, without which the nails that were about to be pounded into his hands would pull through and he would fall off. This man was in much worse condition than the other two, because, when his clothes were roughly torn off him before fastening him, naked,  to the cross, Pete could see the flesh hanging off his back and front. His whole body was one bloodied mass. He had obviously suffered the most severe flogging: it would have killed a lesser man. As if this weren't enough, twigs with inch-long thorns had been twisted into a crude circle and pushed down on his head, causing blood to mingle with the sweat running down his hair and into his eyes.

Nails were brutally driven through his hands and feet, but unlike the other two men he made no sound at all. Once he was secured, the cross was raised to an upright position, and dropped into the hole prepared for it in the ground. It was obvious that the sheer physical torment was such that it was all the man could do to take gasps of breath, pulling himself up against the agonising nails in his hands and pushing down on the one driven through both feet, in order to be able to force oxygen into his lungs.

Pete heard him speak, but while he still did not understand the language, the thoughts came very clearly to him: ‘Father, forgive them. They don't know what they're doing.’ For a long time he hung there, with flies buzzing around his wounds and many men in the crowd tormenting him with their jeers. A small group of men and women were as close to the cross as the soldiers would allow, clearly distraught at what was happening, but unable to do anything to relieve his torment.

When Pete thought things could not be any worse, the light suddenly faded and disappeared, almost as though the sun had gone out. It was pitch black, and Pete could barely see the hands in front of his face. Then, with more anguish than Pete had ever heard in a man's voice, came an anguished cry, accompanied by the thoughts: "God! …I’ve never been apart from You before… I know I came here to take all Your wrath against the sin of all mankind… but… My God! Why have you left me alone?" The burden of the world's sin, now incorporated into that tormented being, was so awful, even God could not bear to look at it and for the first time in his existence, Jesus was totally alone.

After three hours of darkness the light started to return, and, transfixed, Pete wanted to look away but was mesmerised by the sight of such cruelty imposed on a person.




















thiscrossseenhishandspleasedontcomeseetheworldswhenisurveyyoureasonofgodidreamedalleluianpraisegowithloveyouresonofgodjustbecausearmsofjesusgentlejesuseveryjoymeetonstreetovertureSon of God Bookhecaresthiscross