<TITLE>17. Par 194-204</TITLE>L-194 And I seen them take, put that cross on His back, that old blistery, ragged, rugged cross. And there He goes, laying across that sore back, down through the street He went, the howling mob, laughing, making fun of Him, "There goes that prophet. There goes that great teacher. There goes that divine healer." But He's my Lord. O God, I've... Let me climb with Him.
There He goes up the hill. I see the young, half-dressed women, running around, making fun. Their boyfriends hugging one another, as they go up the hill. Brother Ward, it hasn't changed too much yet.
I can see the great church members, saying, "Look, that was the Guy that was going to tear our church up; preached against our pastor. Look at Him now." But the prophet said it must be that way. He was God's Lamb.

L-197 I see Him as He turns His head, and the spit sliding down off of His beard. Rolls His eyes up to Heaven; groans, and moves a little farther.
Lord, by faith, I want to walk that now with Him. I want to pat Him on the back, say, "Lord, I will stand here. Just tell me what to do, I will do it. How I appreciate You, Lord."
Yonder on the hill, when they laid Him down, pulled His precious hands back. Those hands that stood the fever; that hands that said... to that poor widow woman's boy, when it touched his brow, or the casket he was laying in; he come to life...
That One Who called Dorcas back to life, that One Who called Jairus' daughter to life, that One Who said, "Lazarus, come forth." Them lips are bleeding now, parching, crying.

L-201 As the great cruel nails drive into His hands and in His feet. "They pierced my hands and my feet," said the prophet, seven hundred years before it happened. What was it? It was Abel's Lamb. There they flung Him down in the ground, and the flesh tore. His poor body quivered.
Said, "I thirst." They give Him vinegar.
They riled and mocked, and made fun of Him, said, "You great miracle-worker, do something about it now."
But then the skies begin to get dark, lightning begin to flash. God was hiding His face; He couldn't stand it no more. O God, how cruel sin must be, how cruel, how cruel, that caused that precious One to do that. Even such a price He paid till God Himself hid His face. The Angels veiled their faces and turned around, to weeping with Him. The moon and stars could not go any farther. They could not shine no more. The very God that created them was dying on the cross. And He bowed His head.

L-204 Before He did that, He looked down there to them people gambling for His garment, fulfill what the prophet said. Said, "Father, forgive them; they don't know what they're doing." All in love, Adam's Lamb, God's provided Lamb, slain from the foundation of the world... There He died, friendless, even forsaken by God Himself. God, and, then, His Own Father, forsaken Him, bleeding.
Yet, we go around laughing, gaiety, just like nothing had happened.
O God, it was that Blood. When yonder in the hospital, the doctor said, "He's dying," it was that Blood that healed me. A little old sinner boy running around here, it was that Blood that forgive my sins. It was that Blood that took--that taken me out of a debauch of a place that I was living, and set me and made me Your son. Oh,...?... and dying Lamb, Thy precious Blood. Keep me near the cross, Lord.


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