dead. He showed love and compassion for all of God’s creations—even those who hated him.
“I was prepared to go to Earth and put an end to this little quibble, but the other angels wouldn’t let me go. In fact, I was completely restrained. They knew I would have gladly fallen to protect Jesus. So they left me with no alternative. I was to watch helplessly.
“Time is different in Heaven. Days seem like minutes to us, but, at the same time, we conceive of every second in ways that humans would never comprehend. I watched weeks pass, and I became very concerned. I could see dangerous events unfolding but could do nothing to stop them. People were looking to put Jesus on trial and kill him. It was hard for me to believe that no one around me understood what was going on. I pleaded with them to go down and at least take Jesus away, but no one listened. We all watched Jerusalem in a similar fashion to the way that American families become fused to the fictional lives of TV characters. Angels analyzed different things that were said, the intricacies of the human psyche, and postulated on probable outcomes. I distinctly remember them discussing which parts would make it on to become a religion and which would be left out. I thrashed, but they were stronger. Then, Jesus took his group to the Garden.
“We watched him pour his heart out to God, and he received no answer. He cried for help. If it had been possible, I would have killed all of the angels, who had pinned me for days, to answer his call. The Romans came upon him in the Garden. They took him back to Pilate, beating him like a criminal the whole way. I felt every blow, and it all compounded into something very dark, brewing inside of me. I later recognized it to be hate, but then it only felt like pain and sorrow.
“Pilate made a weak excuse for not defying the trivial accusations of the high priests and sent Christ to be punished for crimes that did not exist. They accused him of blasphemy.
“We had never told humans that the rules didn’t change. We never told them that society, though it constantly changes, should be expected to abide by the same laws. We only wanted to show them love, and they returned the favor with hate. As they beat Jesus, tore sinews, ripped muscle, devoured flesh with their scourges, and humiliated him in front of an audience, I gnashed my teeth and prayed for release. I can’t imagine what Jesus was feeling.
“Then, they nailed him to the cross. The beatings, the whippings, and the crown of thorns had been insulting. But, when they put nails through his wrists and ankles, something died inside me. He was only barely conscious when they laid him on the cross. However, when the hammers rung, Jesus’s pain echoed throughout Heaven, and we all wailed.
“He hung there for an hour, his soul shifting between dimensions. Through the entire ordeal, there was one voice he could hear clearly. Lucifer was there, and he was laughing at Jesus’s plight. He was saying that he’d told Jesus that this was how it would end. He invited Jesus, one more time, to turn away from God and be plucked down from the cross, but Jesus would not.
“In his last moments of life, he looked up to Heaven and cried, ‘Father, why have you forsaken me?’ He was probably directing this to God, but it was more than I could take. I had guided him through thirty years of life and protected him from anything that sought to hurt him. I taught him about love and faith. I taught him the ways of the world. In many respects, I was his father, and I could do nothing to save him.
“Finally, we could no longer see what was happening from Heaven. God had, in fact, turned His face from Jesus. In the moment that the only important human in the world needed His guidance most, God quit watching. It was then that I could feel myself begin to
“I was prepared to go to Earth and put an end to this little quibble, but the other angels wouldn’t let me go. In fact, I was completely restrained. They knew I would have gladly fallen to protect Jesus. So they left me with no alternative. I was to watch helplessly.
“Time is different in Heaven. Days seem like minutes to us, but, at the same time, we conceive of every second in ways that humans would never comprehend. I watched weeks pass, and I became very concerned. I could see dangerous events unfolding but could do nothing to stop them. People were looking to put Jesus on trial and kill him. It was hard for me to believe that no one around me understood what was going on. I pleaded with them to go down and at least take Jesus away, but no one listened. We all watched Jerusalem in a similar fashion to the way that American families become fused to the fictional lives of TV characters. Angels analyzed different things that were said, the intricacies of the human psyche, and postulated on probable outcomes. I distinctly remember them discussing which parts would make it on to become a religion and which would be left out. I thrashed, but they were stronger. Then, Jesus took his group to the Garden.
“We watched him pour his heart out to God, and he received no answer. He cried for help. If it had been possible, I would have killed all of the angels, who had pinned me for days, to answer his call. The Romans came upon him in the Garden. They took him back to Pilate, beating him like a criminal the whole way. I felt every blow, and it all compounded into something very dark, brewing inside of me. I later recognized it to be hate, but then it only felt like pain and sorrow.
“Pilate made a weak excuse for not defying the trivial accusations of the high priests and sent Christ to be punished for crimes that did not exist. They accused him of blasphemy.
“We had never told humans that the rules didn’t change. We never told them that society, though it constantly changes, should be expected to abide by the same laws. We only wanted to show them love, and they returned the favor with hate. As they beat Jesus, tore sinews, ripped muscle, devoured flesh with their scourges, and humiliated him in front of an audience, I gnashed my teeth and prayed for release. I can’t imagine what Jesus was feeling.
“Then, they nailed him to the cross. The beatings, the whippings, and the crown of thorns had been insulting. But, when they put nails through his wrists and ankles, something died inside me. He was only barely conscious when they laid him on the cross. However, when the hammers rung, Jesus’s pain echoed throughout Heaven, and we all wailed.
“He hung there for an hour, his soul shifting between dimensions. Through the entire ordeal, there was one voice he could hear clearly. Lucifer was there, and he was laughing at Jesus’s plight. He was saying that he’d told Jesus that this was how it would end. He invited Jesus, one more time, to turn away from God and be plucked down from the cross, but Jesus would not.
“In his last moments of life, he looked up to Heaven and cried, ‘Father, why have you forsaken me?’ He was probably directing this to God, but it was more than I could take. I had guided him through thirty years of life and protected him from anything that sought to hurt him. I taught him about love and faith. I taught him the ways of the world. In many respects, I was his father, and I could do nothing to save him.
“Finally, we could no longer see what was happening from Heaven. God had, in fact, turned His face from Jesus. In the moment that the only important human in the world needed His guidance most, God quit watching. It was then that I could feel myself begin to
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