Disciple's Prayers

The Spear that Pierce God

Matthew S. Arthadian — Sun, 12 Apr 2026 17:01:14 GMT

This short story is extra-biblical fiction. It is inspired by the Word of God. Please look back to Scripture for it is the Truth.

Darkness covered the heavens while the earth trembled beneath us. Roaring thunder billowed out from the storm that blotted out the sun from the sixth to the ninth watch. The cries from those being crucified were entertaining at first, but something was off.

…

While it was a laugh watching Cassius and the others mess with the Man on the middle cross, an uneasiness lingered from the skewed trial that was held for Him. Even the Prefect seemed to be concerned about the prospect of His execution. Yet, the men were having the time of their lives tearing the Man's flesh from His bones with the flagrum.

After His flesh was rendered from His back, with His spine and even portions of His ribs being revealed, the men thought it would be hysterical to mock the Jews with what seemed to be their sorry excuse for a King.

So Cassius and the men fashioned a crown out of thorns and pressed it upon the Man's head until each thorn scraped His skull. His blood dripped from His already battered and bruised face. If anyone were to ask me who He was at that moment, I couldn’t even think of anyone to compare Him to. He was disfigured beyond recognition.

Once the men finished mocking Him; acting as though He was the King of the Jews, bowing to Him, laughing at Him, going to kiss His hands but then spitting in His face; we were commanded to bring Him back out to face His accusers, the very Jews who He once said He came to seek after and heal. But, in appearing before them, their mob cried out louder, demanding for the Prefect to crucify Him in place of the insurrectionist, Barabbas.

Even Pilate was shocked, questioning the Jews by shouting, “Why? What evil has He done?” but they overwhelmed the Prefect by their insistent uproar to crucify Him. Thus, Pilate washed his hands of His blood, and to appease the mob, commanded us to take Him to carry His cross over to Golgotha.

…

By the time the prisoners were forced to carry their crosses to Golgotha, I was tasked to write their names on the posts for all to witness who the condemned were. When I got to His post, the Prefect told me to write the following in Greek, Latin, and Aramaic:

JESUS OF NAZARETH

THE KING OF THE JEWS

While I wrote this, Caiaphas, the Jewish High Priest, was enraged along with the other Pharisees standing beside him. In a way, I felt privileged to be the one to infuriate them by writing the inscription.

As the time came for the prisoners to arrive, I noticed the Man had someone carrying His cross for Him, as He could barely stand at that point. For some reason, He was silent. Even while the other two criminals were crying, screaming even, this “King of the Jews” remained silent the entire time He was being condemned to death.

Watching Him lower Himself down to be bound up to the cross. Then the moment where Cassius and Marcus drove the nails into the base of His hands, His screams remained muffled. His naked body torn open, blood dripping from the sides of the wooden post. We then flipped the cross over as His body was crushed against the gravel beneath our feet. We had to make sure His body weight wouldn't cause the nails to fall out of the wooden beam, so we bent the back sides of the nails. Once finished nailing them all, we lifted their crosses to stand upright, gripped hold of their feet, and pierced through their foot bones. His screams of pain were still muffled by the screeches of the other two criminals. Then I heard Him break His silence, the words that I still hear to this day, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

I couldn't move at that moment, until Cassius broke me out of my daze, “Longinus, what are you doing just standing there? Come join us in casting lots for the Jew's tunic!”

“Huh, is that really what you are going to do now?” In all of what we were witnessing this innocent Man go through, the fact that the men couldn't see what was taking place shocked me.

Cassius just shrugged and went off gambling the poor Man's tunic. Throwing dice with the men, who I thought I considered my friends. But looking back at every execution we were a part of, there was always some semblance of justice. They were criminals after all! Weren't they?

Or so I thought…

…

Before the sixth watch finally came when the darkness covered over the heavens, the criminals spoke to Him. When I heard the criminals I had once crucified crying out in agony so much, I became numb to their weeping. Yet, this time was different.

In the midst of the mocking, the criminal on His left joined in the hurled accusations coming from the Jewish leaders who stood by watching. The criminal demanded that if He is the Christ, that He should save them from the cross. The criminal on His right rebuked the other with the same sentiment I had in that moment, saying, "Don't you fear God, since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this Man has done nothing wrong.”

That criminal, he had trust in the Man. He had faith in this, Jesus of Nazareth. So much so that he looked to Him, and asked with humility, "Jesus, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.”

The Man who spoke to His Father to forgive us, He looked at the humble criminal and promised him, "Truly I tell you, today you will be with Me in paradise.”

In hearing His words, I couldn’t help but imagine what that paradise might look like. An image of a clear stream of water, where my vision was crystal clear. To be able to see the heavens open up, and feel the warmth of a gentle breeze caress my once down body, but instead, healing and life flooding through these old bones. It was a paradise where I could see myself and Him, where He was that stream, that breeze, that warmth.

When I opened my eyes, the sixth watch came upon us.

…

The earth began to rumble, shaking those who were there to their cores. Then He cried out in sheer agony, a cry I never heard before, speaking in deep anguish, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?”

The Jewish leaders continued their assault on Him, "Wait! Let’s see if Elijah comes to save him.”

"He trusts in God. Let God rescue him now if He wants Him, for He said, ‘I am the Son of God.’”

Hearing them mock Him, it reminded me of their claim that He was going against Caesar by claiming the title of Son of God. And yet, I felt for Him, my heart was grieving for this Man, this Jew, whom I had a hand in crucifying. Never before, in all the executions I took part in, did I ever have such pity on a Man. Let alone a Jew! And He claimed to be the Son of God? My thoughts ran rampant as He cried out again.

This time He said, “I thirst.”

I hesitated, although I wanted to find Him something to drink, immediately one of the men went and put a clump of hyssop on a reed, drenching it with sour wine and reaching for His lips, the Man took it and barely drank from it. He then said with a deep sense of accomplishment, “It is finished.”

When He looked up, He cried out one final time, “Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit.”

…

The earth shook with a mighty fury as His head toppled over. He gave up in keeping His head held high, as we all struggled to maintain our footing.

Cracks and crevices emerged beneath us and at the base of the center cross. Lightning shot across the heavens, from the east to west, and as we heard the thunder screaming out, rippling through. Many bystanders ran away, and some Pharisees rushed over after what felt like hours in the chaos.

“Caiaphas! Come quickly! The veil!” One of the Jewish leaders shouted, as they rushed back into Jerusalem with great haste. Screams were heard echoing across the valleys. It was utter chaos. At which point, we were told we had to bring the bodies down by the Jewish leaders, due to their high holy day, the Passover.

Thus, Cassius and Marcus went over to break the legs of the two criminals beside the Man. Looking at Him, I knew He wasn't breathing, but if I didn't make sure, there would have been a riot. Thus, I took my spear, and with careful precision, I plunged it into His side.

Upon pulling it from His body, immediately, the heavens opened up, the darkness that covered the skies lifted. And my vision, it became crystal clear. I felt a stream of water cover my face, and all I could see was a small glimpse of paradise.

All I could think was, “Thank You!”

And as the heavens opened up, I believed. I knew…

I confessed what was in my heart at that moment, "Truly this Man was the Son of God!"

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Disciple's Prayers

The Spear that Pierce God

This short story is extra-biblical fiction. It is inspired by the Word of God. Please look back to Scripture for it is the Truth.

Longing for You

Eternally Sealed

Holy Serenity

Seven Fold Spirit of God!

His Holy Gates

Enthralled by You

For His Kingdom!

Lead this Heart

Bonded and Woven

Praise at the Wedding of the Lamb

Calling out to You

God of All Grace

O Sword and Shield

Be His Light

By Your Grace

To Live in Him

Our Glorious Race

You are the One

In Truth We Proclaim