Story of the Month

The following story was written by Roger Lee, an elder of GraceLife Church in Anoka, Minnesota. He first gave this story during a communion service. He added to the effects by having the lights lowered. Then he prearranged to have someone out in the hall blow a single long blast from a  trumpet when he got to the part where the priest blew the shofar.

You can contact Roger by email — rlee3567@comcast.net

The Three O’clock Sacrifice

It was a little before three o’clock, the ninth hour of the day.  Caiaphas was making final preparations to sacrifice a Passover lamb.  Today was known as the Day of Preparation, when lambs had to be sacrificed so Passover could start at sunset. All was to be done exactly according to the instructions of Moses, passed down through the years. He checked all the details one final time.  The sharp knife was ready, and the lamb stood waiting as if it knew what was coming.

The events of that morning were still on the mind of the high priest. He knew it had been a nasty business, but getting rid of this Jesus was a relief. A smile came across his face. “That troublemaker is still on the cross. They will break his legs soon so he will die before the festival starts.”

This brought his mind back to the job at hand. All was ready. Now he had to wait for the blowing of the shofar.  One of the priests had carved this particular shofar out of a beautiful ram’s horn. It had deep rich tones and when he blew it, it would be heard far beyond the city walls.

Once again the attention of Caiaphas was drawn to the darkness that started several hours before. He thought, “an eclipse?  No it had lasted far too long for that.  Well, I can’t be concerned about that right now.”

He waited and listened.

A woman in the city was preparing the Passover meal and receiving guests. The house was filled with the laughter of children and the chatter of adults who had come from long distances. The air held the aroma of freshly baked flat bread. It was true she enjoyed the annual festival, still the pressures of her responsibilities made it hard to maintain her “welcoming spirit.”

Suddenly the flame of her lamp went out. She stomped her foot in frustration, “What else can go wrong?” The darkness slowed her down as she was desperately trying to get everything ready before the big meal. 

She paused to regain her composure, and then looked out the window. It was so dark she couldn’t even see the temple. Once more her thoughts went to the execution of Jesus being conducted outside the city walls. “Why are they so afraid of him?  He is kind and has helped so many people.”  She shook her head, as a more practical thought came to her, “Why did they do it on Preparation Day, just before Passover?”

She turned back to find the oil for the lamp. There was so much to do. Yesterday her husband had fulfilled his annual duty of searching the house to make sure there was no yeast anywhere.

Today he was at the temple, having a Passover lamb killed by one of the priests.  When he returned, she would roast the lamb. All had to be done by sunset.

More guests were at the door.

Outside the city walls a centurion checked his roster. He thought to himself, “I will be glad when I am reassigned! These people are strange!  They kill a good man for no reason.”  He thought of his request for reassignment to Athens. “Now that’s a good assignment.”

He looked up at Jesus on the cross. He had met this man once before and remembered it well.  Very few things had ever shaken him as much as that encounter. He remembered watching him and hearing him teach — even saw him heal a blind man.  This man was different from anyone he had ever met. 

He spit on the ground. “This makes no sense to me at all. Sometimes I hate this job.”

Once again he looked at the sky and said out loud, “Where is Julius with that lamp? This darkness is strange.”

Caiaphas held the knife waiting for the sound of the shofar. His left arm was around the shoulder of the lamb.  Other priests were also waiting. The high priest would be first, and then they would follow by killing the many lambs provided by the various family groups of the city. They would drain the blood from the animals for an offering to the Lord, and then they would burn the fat. Once all this was done, the carcasses would be hung to the side for collection.

The city was overflowing with pilgrims from all over, and every home was filled with guests.  These travelers were excited to be in Jerusalem for Passover. But for Caiaphas, it was just a job.  Oh yes, he enjoyed the attention of people stopping and pointing at him as he walked down the street in his priestly robes.  Fathers would point and say to their sons, “There is the high priest!  You are blessed to actually see him.  You must remember this moment the rest of your life.”

Suddenly the deep rich tones of the shofar broke the silence.  It was time for the sacrifice. Without a second thought, Caiaphas ran the knife across the throat of the lamb.  It jerked just a little and then went limp in his arms.

The centurion heard the horn blast coming from the direction of the temple.  Then he heard a shout from the cross, “Into your hands I commend my spirit.”  The ground shook and the darkness intensified.

Jesus, the Lamb of God, was dead!

Caiaphas was not prepared for the thunderous tearing sound from behind him. He jerked around. His eyes became huge as he faced the unbelievable sight of the 60 foot tall, 30 foot wide temple veils ripped in half. He dropped the lamb as he stood there in awe. Coming to himself, he rushed over and grabbed the thick cloth in his hands. This was the guard to separate the commoners from the exclusive room only he had the privilege to enter. Now the sacred Holy of Holies was available to everyone.

The woman heard the sound of the horn and stopped filling her lamp.  She knew that it was the sign for the death of the lamb.  Suddenly, the earth shook beneath her feet.  She reached to steady herself as a bowl fell to the floor and children screamed.

She turned and looked out the window even though she knew there was nothing to see. It was three o’clock, the ninth hour of the day, and the Lamb was dead!

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