Remembering the Pit

            Darkness closed in on us. At the bottom of the stone steps, our tour group waited in the dungeon.

            Before climbing the outside stairway, we learned that Jesus would have walked the same steps toward his mock trial. My feet walked along His as He willingly prepared to die for me.

            Standing in the same courtyard as Peter when he denied Jesus. The statue of Peter and the cock made me look inside myself. How many times have I denied Christ? Maybe not always with words but with my actions or silence?

            While I thought of that distressing night, we descended narrow, stone stairs. Prisoners were held there before their executions. After we gathered at the bottom, the lights went out. Silence. My heart cried for what He endured. Tears coursed down my face.

            Then a clear, beautiful voice echoed in the pit. Her words asked, “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?” With each verse, more tears flowed. The agony of His death clutched me.

            The magnitude of His sacrifice intensified. Despair. Grief. Abandonment. Betrayal. Intense pain. He did it for us.

            It is easier to skip from the Last Supper to Easter. From the Upper Room to the empty tomb. From the new covenant to joyful celebration. But only when we remember the pit can we fully understand the sacrifice.