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Six Hours

It was nine in the morning when they crucified him…And at three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, ‘Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?’ (which means ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’).  When some of those standing near heard this, they said, ‘Listen, he’s calling Elijah.’  Someone ran, filled a sponge with wine vinegar, put it on a staff, and offered it to Jesus to drink.  ‘Now leave him alone. Let’s see if Elijah comes to take him down,’ he said.  With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last. (Mark 15:25, 15:34-37)

Growing up, I must have said the following words from the Apostles’ Creed thousands of times: “For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate; he suffered, died, and was buried.”  I said it so often the sting of the final few words got lost on me after awhile.  But last year, in reading the gospel of Mark, the above verses really hit home: “It was nine in the morning when they crucified him.  And at three in the afternoon…Jesus breathed his last.” 

Six hours.  Six long, agonizing hours Jesus hung on the cross for me and for all of us.  I never really grasped it – but last year in reading those passages, for the first time I truly did.  So tomorrow at 9 AM, I’m going to lift up a prayer of thanks.  I’m then going to go about my day like I always do, but 360 minutes later I’m going to lift up another one.  I’m sure it’s going to seem like a really, really long time between prayers, but hopefully it will make me appreciate what Christ did all the more.

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