I once had a peek at the crucifixion, very near to the actual nailing. It wasn’t full Technicolor, more of a cartoony view, as I usually have, but I saw in my small vision Christ carrying his cross on his way to Golgotha, or up Golgotha, uncertain exactly where on the path he was. He was almost completely facing me. He paused, and he looked at me as I looked at him. A small pause. Then he carried on. And that was it. I can’t imagine that I could have done anything for him, just then, and I got first hand why it was the apostles scattered when he was captured. I could just watch. And then he moved on.

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The Great Blasphemy