You have not known him long. A friend of yours told you tales of a miracle worker and teacher. What she said seemed outlandish. You listened to her despite your doubts and went to hear the man speak. It was amazing. Wisdom and Truth like you never heard. And he did heal people, a great many. That is not what stuck in your head.
There was something else, something which resonated in your heart and told you this man was 'the one'. He spoke with power and with 
authority. There was a look in his eyes-- love, hope, light, purity, holiness. It wasn't condemning, it was welcoming. You argued against yourself, coming up with reasons why he wasn't the one who had been promised. In a moment, however, it all collapsed.
He had finished speaking and the crowd was dissipating. You continued to sit, your heart was exhilarated and challenged. Life could not, would not be the same. But you didn't know what to do. So, you sat, head buried in your knees, tears streaming down your cheeks. A hand rested on your shoulder. You looked up.
There he was. A tear was on his cheek, sharing your pain.
"All is well," Jesus said. "Come follow me. All that I do, I do for you."
From his hand you felt power, your spirit began to rise within you, your heart felt like it was going to burst. Joy like you've never known filled your entire being. You laughed. He laughed with you.
When he walked away, you stood and followed. That was two weeks ago.
Last week, when he came to Jerusalem you cheered for him and waved a palm branch as he passed by. The weight you had carried for years was lifted in the last few weeks; all those things which you did somehow didn't seem to matter anymore. You felt free and the one who gave you that freedom was riding a donkey on the road in front of you.
When he went by you yelled a little louder, "Hosanna! Hosanna to the King of Kings!."
He heard your voice, and turned. His eyes caught yours, he flashed a smile and mouthed, "Hello", acknowledging you even in the midst of this great crowd. You knew you would do anything for him.
The week had gone by and everything became much worse. He was arrested by the Temple guards. There was nothing to do. The guards were all around, those who hated him for whatever reason had gathered and captured him, keeping his supporters from finding a voice. They took him while at prayer, it is said, and he went willingly. If he only would say the word he could rally his supporters and gain his own freedom. Many wanted to help him, and many would give their lives for his cause.
He doesn't want our sacrifice, he doesn't want us to fight for him. You don't know what he wants. Instead of feeling courage, you feel fear. All of his followers are confused, you are lost.
His trial was a sham, they convicted him before he showed up. They broke the Law with what they did, claiming it was for a higher cause.
You saw him after the trial. It took a few minutes to realize who you were seeing. Jesus was covered in blood, his body was broken, he could barely stand. People all around him were yelling insults while at the same time demanding miracles and signs. He just stood there, his eyes down.
A friend found you, and you now stand together watching Pilate review the case. For such a man to be a judge of another was scandalous. But he had the soldiers and the authority. At this point it wasn't much, but it was enough.
He asks, "What do you want me to do with this man, I find no guilt in him?"
The crowd yells back, "Crucify Him!"
You are silent, ashamed he would not defend himself. His words came back to you, shocking in this moment: "What I do, I do for you."
He is good, a symbol of hope. You are the one who messed up, who deserves the trial. The weight of your own mistakes, your past, falls heavy upon you.
They are being redeemed before your eyes. It is your weight he is now carrying, it is your judgment he is taking. You are the reason he does not defend himself, why he is letting this punishment take place. You stop listening to the crowd, and do not hear what Pilate says next. The sound of your own weeping drowns out everything else.
"My Jesus, often have I signed the death warrant by my sins; save me by Your death from that eternal death which I have so often deserved."
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