“The face of the enigmatic Jew seemed weighted with an almost insupportable burden of anxiety. The eyes, narrowed as if in resigned acceptance of some inevitable catastrophe, stared straight ahead toward Jerusalem. Perhaps the man, intent upon larger responsibilities far removed from this pitiable little coronation farce, wasn’t really hearing the racket at all.
So deeply absorbed had Demetrius become, in his wide-eyed study of the young Jew’s face, that he too was beginning to be unmindful of the general clamor and confusion. He moved along with inching steps, slanting his body against the weight of the pressing crowd, so close now to the preoccupied rider that with one stride he could have touched him.
Now there was a temporary blocking of the way, and the noisy procession came to a complete stop. The man on the white donkey straightened, as if roused from a reverie, drew a deep sigh, and slowly turned his head. Demetrius watched, with parted lips and a pounding heat.
The meditative eyes, drifting about over the excited multitude, seemed to carry a sort of wistful compassion for these helpless victims of an aggression for which they thought he had a remedy. Everyone was shouting, shouting-all but the Corinthian slave, whose throat was so dry he couldn’t have shouted, who had no inclination to shout, who wished they would all be quiet, quiet! It wasn’t the time or place for shouting. Quiet! This man wasn’t the sort of person one shouted at, or shouted for. Quiet! That was what this moment called for-Quiet!
Gradually the brooding eyes moved over the crowd until they came to rest on the strained, bewildered face of Demetrius. Perhaps, he wondered, the man’s gaze halted there because he alone-in all this welter of hysteria-refrained from shouting. His silence singled him out. The eyes calmly appraised Demetrius. They neither widened or smiled; but, in some indefinable manner, they held Demetrius’s a grip so firm it was almost a physical compulsion. The message they communicated was something other than sympathy, something more vital than friendly concern; a sort of stabilizing power that swept away all such negations as slavery, poverty, or any other afflicting circumstance. Demetrius was suffused with the glow of this curious kinship. Blind with sudden tears, he elbows through the throng and reached the roadside.”
The Robe, by Lloyd C. Douglas, p. 73-74
Happy Good Friday, my friends. A horrible, yet beautiful day I remember as a Christ-follower. I recently was privileged to read with three friends a stirring historical fiction centered around Marcellus, a Roman soldier and his slave, Demetrius. We follow Marcellus as he crucifies Jesus and wins his homespun robe in a gambling match. Douglas seeps us in the rich, historical setting of first century Rome and ultimately, we walk away with a profound sense of wonder. We who touch the presence of Jesus are never the same.
I was deeply moved by this novel and it made me rethink how I live day to day. How would my life look if I actively acknowledged His real presence right in and around me? I highly recommend this book! ♥️
A beautiful hymn we are singing in our homeschool co op has been hanging around in my heart as I think of what my Lord’s death and Resurrection mean to me. I used to love Christmas the most, but slowly as I’ve lived more life, the hope, spring-freshness, and LIFE to Easter have become a most meaningful time for me.
Jesus told her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Anyone who believes in me will live, even after dying. Everyone who lives in me and believes in me will never ever die…”
John 11:25-26a, NLT
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A.M. Pine - Hearth Ridge Reflections 