It was now Good Friday just before noon. I had come a few minutes early in order to purchase some post cards to send to my nephews and nieces. I was at a kiosk looking at a card that was a picture of two people with electric, technicolour hair. I had just dismissed the idea of sending such a card and was about to opt for a more traditional one, the Tower of London, when, to my amazement, the young woman with the purple hair again crossed my path. I put the Tower of London card back and bought the punk hair-do card.

 Michael had never told me how many visitations there would be, but I was beginning to suspect that they wouldn't go beyond the weekend. When I arrived at the Cathedral, I went to the Chapel of St. Michael. For the first time since our original meeting, he wasn't there. "Odd." I thought. I went back out of the chapel to look up the aisle to see if he was on his way. He wasn't. I turned to go back to the chapel, but then decided to look in the main nave of the cathedral. I scanned to the back but did not see him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone on the steps leading up to the high altar - a man kneeling on one knee. This would have been a bit forward in itself, but the man was dressed in the uniform of a first century Roman soldier - down to the sandals. It was Michael. He seemed to be praying. I wasn't sure whether to approach. After a moment I decided I would. I was sure that it would become clear, as I drew closer, if this were inappropriate. As I approached, Michael seemed to finish. He stood and beckoned me. Being near to the sanctuary, I whispered when I spoke. "Aren't you concerned that you might draw attention being dressed as you are, and kneeling here at the front of the cathedral?"

 "No. It is you who should be concerned. I am invisible to all others except you. Anyone who is looking in this direction is looking at you."

 I suddenly became quite self-conscious.

 "Let's sit down," said Michael.  My attention was drawn to the figure of Christ hanging in death upon the large gold cross on the high altar. Michael was looking at it also as he asked me, "Do you remember the vision you had when you were praying? The one I mentioned to you in our first encounter."

 "Yes, that was what made me even listen to you, and not write you off as a kook." As I responded the vision came suddenly to mind. "It was you! You were the angel kneeling before the cross on Good Friday."

 "The vision you had was accurate. Today you will hear my account." With that, Michael began.

 "I am not the only witness of what happened. Mary or even the Centurion could give you an account as well. But they were limited in what they saw. With human eyes they could not perceive what occurred in the spiritual realm. There were many more present on that day than they could see, and the part played by these others was no small one.

 "I have told you some about the ranks of the angels and you have seen something of the demonic, but there is more to tell. They, like us, vary in their powers and in their functions. All of them can tempt, just as all of us can worship. For most of them their primary role is to tempt and to harass human beings. Their level of power is low, but they can operate at incredible speed. That is their strength. They can sow the seed of doubt, hatred and lust among thousands very rapidly. Their work is usually experienced as a thought or a desire or an emotion. It is usually in the form of a temptation to do, or to say, or think something, and it can be very subtle. There were many of these spirits around that day. "Above them in rank are the demons who can gain special control over someone. This is usually spoken of as having a demonic obsession or in the more noteworthy cases it is demonic possession. In these cases the ability of the individual to resist the suggestion made by the demon is greatly impaired. Such people have impulses that they cannot resist because, over time, they have yielded repeatedly to a temptation or they have entered into some agreement with an evil spirit.

 "What was noteworthy that day was the number of senior officers in the horde who were there. Some of them were captains, who report to the commanders, who report to Satan himself. They rule over groups of demons known respectively as a mob, a throng and finally the whole horde of hell.

 "Captains have responsibility for the great cities and lesser nations. They often, intentionally, take a form that is grotesque or repulsive in order to evoke fear in their subordinates. It can destroy the confidence of lesser demons. Anger and hatred consume them. These are the key sources of their power. Through them they induce fear, and with enough fear, a subordinate can be made to do anything. Often the senior officers treat their allies with as much contempt as their enemies. Most of the senior officers control their subordinates just as Satan controls them."

 "Even so, under normal circumstances the demonic multitudes tremble in fear at my presence. But not that day. That day I and the others with me were ordered not to manifest our glory. We merely appeared in battle dress, our garments covered with the blood, the grime, of the centuries of battle. It gave the horde unusual courage.

 "There is a hill outside the city walls of Jerusalem. It was there that the Romans customarily crucified the offenders against Roman law. It was there that you saw me. It was there that the battle I will now recount was joined.

  "Two men were already hanging from crosses. The Roman soldiers who had crucified them were now waiting for a third man to be executed. Unseen and unheard by the soldiers were two of our enemy who also were waiting in expectation of the third man to be crucified. Both demons were hoping that they would have the 'honour' of driving the spikes. As they waited, they began a conversation inaudible to human ears.

 "'Our mob captain is here.' Gobah was seeking to provoke Anaf. A spirit of pride was provoking a spirit of anger.

 "'I have already noted his obnoxious presence.' "'You have been pondering your move no doubt. I can see you are ready. His defeat is guaranteed.'

 "'And would I tell you my plans, dear Gobah? I know your ways. You would weasel information out of me, pass it on to him and then congratulate yourself for betrayal.'

 "The spirit of pride was unshaken that his ways were so obvious. Instantly, he changed his tactics to temptation by interrogation.

 "'But, if I am correct, you nearly succeeded in defeating him last time. Might I give you the help you need for your challenge to succeed.'

 "'Help? Pfff! From you? No. When I next challenge, I will win, and I wont need any other's help. I can do it on my own. Last time I was promised help I got none and paid dearly for it. It was long before I recovered from the humiliation at my captain's hand. I had acted from fear, a despicable form of hatred, but now I have regained my courageous hate. Soon I will have my revenge.'

 "The spirit of pride secretly congratulated himself on his success, and continued. 'You grew in your wickedness through your rebellion. Surely you are now more wicked than he.'

 "'I could match him evil for evil ...without doubt.'

 "'Are you not also now more wise?'

 "'Far wiser than him or you, you goad.' The spirit of anger was falling into the trap. His pride was growing, soon it would force him to act.

 "'Then why not act today?' The spirit of pride continued. 'He will be distracted by other important events today.' "'Why don't you act. You also hate him. Do you think I can't tell that you want his position.' "'No,' the spirit of pride responded, 'today I will fight for the greater evil.'

 "'Do I detect loyalty to the Master of Hell?' "'No! Loyalty is beneath me. Even in its worst forms it has a touch of good. I will fight along with him today only because it is an opportunity to do the greater evil. I shall be the one to drive the spikes of crucifixion which will finally guarantee the victory of darkness.' "'You? I'm sorry my friend. That honour belongs to me.'

 "While these two demons argued, nearby another conversation was going on. Again it was inaudible to human ears. It was in the mind of the captain of the cohort on crucifixion duty that day. The captain of the demonic mob spoke into his mind. Just then the spirit of pride looked in his direction.

 "'It has been a good while since you have had the pleasure of driving the spike, of feeling the warm blood. Perhaps today you should take over from your subordinates.'

 "'That is an odd thought,' reflected the captain of the cohort.

 "'But possibly worthy of consideration.... The job of directing this mob - what pleasure is there in that? You command others to do, but when do you get the pleasure of doing? Why not today? Why not be the one to inflict the punishment today.' "'It has been a while...'

 "The captain of the mob knew this man. Having sown the seed, he backed away and walked toward his two subordinates still in conversation, their backs toward him. The spirit of pride again switched tactics, having seen the captain of the mob speaking to the captain of the cohort and guessing what was said. Their remarks were as yet unheard by the captain of the mob.

 "'That honour belongs to the one who gains it." Said the spirit of pride.

 "'Yes, but who is next? I am. You had the last.' "'What kind of fool are you. Do you think the captain will let you have this honour. He will take it for himself.'

 "'Him?' "'Of course.'

 "'No. He can't do that. That honour belongs to me!'

  "'So you claim. Such a claim carries no weight. You will have to fight him for it.'

 "'Then fight him I shall. It is anger that induces men to do evil. Anger shall triumph here today!'

 "'No, the captain will be assign you to work the crowd, again.' The spirit of pride' goading was succeeding. The spirit of anger grew enraged. His darkness increased, but his powers of judgment shrank.

 "'The captain. Hah! The captain will never again assign me to anything. The so-called ruler of the mob will be broken. Today the captain will fall. I can match his strength. I have powers he has not yet seen. When anger is unleashed beware. Today, the captain will...'

 "'Did I hear my name?' The voice was sarcastic. It belonged to the captain. The spirit of anger was caught and he knew it. 'Plotting again?' The captain continued. 'You fool.'

 The spirit of pride backed away, having succeeded in the first part of his plot. He quickly slid over to the captain of the Roman cohort.

 "'You must be loyal to your position.' The spirit of pride also knew this man. 'Commanding is power. If you yield to to menial work, you will be given menial work. Who will fear you. You will be just another one of the men. You are a captain in the Roman army. Act like a general and you will become a general. Act like a mercenary and you will become a mercenary. Do not stoop to this menial task.'

 "The captain of the mob stared at his subordinate. The spirit of anger stared back, considering a challenge, hardening his resolve, steeling his will. The captain held his stare, calmly concentrating his powers. The darkness around them grew. Then, slowly, the spirit of anger began to twist, one shoulder dropping and going forward, the other rising backward. Suddenly, he fell to the ground, broken.

 "'Not yet, fool! Go work the crowd. There are key people to corrupt, and today it will be easy. Even you can do it. Many of them are already angry. Enrage them!' The captain kicked the spirit of anger and left. Michael had paused. "Do the subordinates ever succeed in their rebellion?" I asked. "Seldom, but they do regularly rise up against those over them. Unless they have managed to grow in their powers of evil, they lose, and when they do, they suffer for it. Rebellion is often deterred because losing is no escape. They cannot fight to the death and finally be done with it, once and for all.  They are spirits. They don't die. When they lose, the outcome is always excruciating punishment, but never extinction."

 "Now," Michael continued, "The conversation I just recounted took place near the two men who had already been crucified. Next would be Jesus. The day had already become heavily overcast, as he carried the transverse beam of the cross up the hill.

  "The bystanders were aware of an unnatural tension but could not explain it. It was as if a fight were expected at any moment. The fiercest of rivals were there, watching warily, the armies of heaven and the hoards of hell. We, Gabriel, Raphael and many of our most capable warriors, had been sent to defend this man. Our enemy sought to destroy him. Both groups were completely invisible to the human eye, but many people sensed our presence, especially the malicious evil that accompanied the demonic horde, for on that day, the angelic host was subdued in our presence and outnumbered by the great horde that had gathered in Jerusalem to witness the confrontation between Jesus and Satan. Satan had boasted that he would put to death the Son of God. This was to be the hour of darkness. Crucifixion is death of the most brutal kind, involving intense, unremittant pain for hours and humiliation before all who are looking on.

 "Jesus dropped the cross beam to the ground, and was made to strip down to a loin cloth. The soldiers threw him to the ground and made him lie upon the transverse beam, arms outstretched. The entire horde drew near. The captain of the cohort approached the soldiers, accompanied by the captain of the mob. He picked up the hammer and the spikes. The captain of the mob whispered, 'Yes, do it yourself.' But Gobah, the spirit of pride was right there as well with the soldier he had under his power. Gobah spoke to the captain of the cohort, "Remember your pride," knowing that such a statement was a risk. It could be interpreted as harmless by his own captain, even as it prompted the captain of the cohort to act as Gobah desired. The captain of the cohort handed the hammer and spikes to Gobah's soldier and said, 'You, take care of this.'

 "'Noooo!' said the captain of the mob, quickly shifting his glance to Gobah, but there was nothing he could do. The Roman captain had decided.

 "Gobah passed through the soldier with his darkness, assuming the exact form of the soldier as they knelt over the body of Jesus. The spike was put into place and with a mighty blow from the hammer, was driven home. Jesus clenched his teeth and held back the cry of pain.

 "The horde shouted for victory. Their darkness intensified. Gobah, more than any other, grew darker. His thirst for evil increased as he moved the soldier to drive the second spike into place. "Now I shall be captain of this mob. I will command a throng. I will have my revenge on every spirit who ever crossed me.' Pride again had triumphed.

  "'NOW!' He cried, and the soldier drove the second spike home. Again Jesus held back a cry of pain while the horde shouted in triumph.

 "'Yes!' Cried one the their leaders. 'The rescuer of men is now the hostage of hell.'

  "To that it was not easy to listen. The desire of the heavenly host was to hear an immediate call to war. Many of my finest warriors came up to me pleading, 'This cannot be right. Give us the order that we may fight for his honour and stop this shame!' As the commander of the heavenly host I responded. 'I too desire to draw the sword, to speak the truth, to drive out the darkness, but our orders are to wait, to watch and to act only if commanded. Our zeal for righteousness must be tempered by our obedience. Our commands are clear. We must wait.' "Standing a far off, an island unto themselves, were Mary and some of the other women who had been followers of Jesus. They could get no closer due to the many soldiers and Jewish leaders gathered near the cross. Even so they could still hear the groans of agony from those who had been crucified.

 "The Roman soldiers now finished their task. Using ropes they raised crucified body of Jesus and secured the transverse beam to the verticle one. A foot-rest was secured to upright beam and finally the feet were draw up one placed over the other and a spike was driven through them both. The crucifixion was complete.The horde had gathered to the cross as well. There was still work for them to do.

 "A young scribe had drawn back when the final spike was driven through the feet of Jesus. He saw the look of pain and the flow of blood and turned away. Immediately a demon was at his side. 'The lesson is necessary.'

 "The scribe pushed his way through the crowd, leaving. The demon followed him. 'The people will only learn if the point is firmly made. Blasphemy must be firmly punished or people will not believe.' "The scribe continued, undeterred, thinking to himself, 'If the people do not believe, they do not believe. Deterrents to sin do not produce faith.' The demon fell away and returned to the crowd seeking others to tempt. "One of the chief priests caught Jesus' eye. He was prodded by another mob captain who stood behind him. 'Are you not the Messiah? The savior of the whole world? How long we have waited for your appearing to save us from our misery filled lives! But you can't even save yourself!... Oh, we're ready to follow you. Show us your power that we might become true believers. Come, lead us!' He threw back his head and laughed heartily, full of self satisfaction.

 "The mob captain spoke with delight as he noted how easily the chief priest could be stirred to act. 'This one will be of use to me. He thoroughly trusts himself. Yet how little he knows that I am the source of his most brilliant thoughts! Who was it that prompted him to shout "Crucify Him! Crucify Him!" just in time to save the trial before Pilate? Yes I will use this man.'

  "Prodded again by the mob captain, the chief priest dropped his chin, looked out the top of his eyes and spoke in mockery. 'So, you're going to destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days! That would be a mighty act! Let's see it.' "A slithery spirit of self-righteousness crept up behind the chief priest and congratulated him. 'What a fool this Jesus is! It is good that you saved these poor wretches from following such a lunatic. The slime of your people can never tell what is true and good. They will follow anyone.'

 "Like so many of the demons, his voice was harsh and grating to our ears but in the minds of men it sounded strong yet mild. The chief priest nodded to himself, noting how good and helpful he had been in preventing the rabble from making the great mistake of following this Jesus.

 "Jesus quietly quoted the scriptures. 'More in number than the hairs of my head are those who hate me without cause. Mighty are those who would destroy me, those who attack me with lies.... I have become an alien to my brethren... The insults of those who are insulting you have fallen upon me. My knees are weak..., my body has become gaunt. I am an object of scorn to my accusers, when they see me, they wag their heads.' The exercise of controlling his thoughts helped him to not yield to crying out in agony. Once again I listened for the voice of the Most High, hoping for a word, a signal that we could intervene, and still, none came.

 "Thunder rumbled in the distance. The sky grew darker and the air grew heavier. Among my men there was an increased awareness of evil. They searched for something, someone, but they knew not who, or where. Many were listening intently, trying to pick up more clearly whatever it was they were sensing. The demonic horde at first grew restless, then anxious and fearful. Many were wincing as if in pain. Others were looking for a place to hide.

 "Then I saw him, a commander of the horde, a spirit of hatred and murder bearing great authority. Commanders normally spread themselves over entire nations. This one, however, had concentrated his darkness greatly, taking a disfigured human form 9 feet tall. His visage was so repulsive even his own captains found it difficult to look at him. I knew him before he had fallen but now could hardly recognise him, he had fallen so far. He had been a creature of beauty, inspiring to look at, but now he was so disfigured that I shuddered in horror at what he had become.

 "The spirit of hatred and murder approached Jesus from behind the cross, so as to whisper over Jesus' shoulder. His voice was convincing. It was the same voice that had incited Cain to murder his brother Abel. His reasoning had been impeccable. It had made the conclusions of his counsel easy to follow and seem utterly devoid of wrong. Yet every trace of love in his heart he had personally mutilated beyond all recognition. In its place he had cultivated a deep hatred for all that is good. He could brook no compassion or mercy if he were to succeed in this temptation. Even so, his voice was smooth and confident. 'Those worthless high priests. They are filled with self righteousness. Jesus, how right you were when you called them whitewashed tombs. They deserve everything they will get. They deserve no mercy. As David foretold, "Let them be blotted out of the book of the living!"'

 "The commander signaled to the captain, who again prompted the chief priest to rail at Jesus. 'You're a charlatan, a fool. A misguided egomaniac. I have seen neither humility or courage in you. But I should not be surprised. I have not seen wisdom, justice, or any sign of the Spirit of God at work in you either!' Then he turned to the crowd and continued, 'This man is in league with the devil himself.' "Again Jesus recalled the words of the Psalm, 'Wicked and deceitful mouths are opened against me, speaking against me with lying tongues. They beset me with words of hate and attack me without cause. In return for my love they accuse me, even as I make prayer for them. So they reward me evil for good, hatred for my love.'

 "The commander of the horde turned to Jesus. 'Tell him off. Tell off this lying fool. He has blasphemed the Holy Spirit. You must judge him. Now! ... Put him in his place. Exercise your righteous wrath!' "Closing his eyes, Jesus spoke. 'Father, forgive this man. Forgive him. He doesn't know what he's doing.' "Jesus' words shattered the false calmness of the spirit of hatred and murder. 'Forgive him!?? No, never forgive!' The commander grew darker in countenance and his voice grew in intensity. Now he moved directly in front of the cross and rebuked Jesus to his face with a commanding voice. 'Where is your justice, O you righteous judge? These chief priests are false and treacherous men. They claim to be holy. They claim to be honest. They claim to know the truth but they are liars, murderers and thieves. Do you call this justice? Justice??? They mislead your followers and you do nothing! Where is your loyalty? Where is your courage? Where is your justice? They deserve to be damned! Strike them down!'

 NOW!

"Jesus stared back at the commander, but refused to respond. In anger the commander turned to Gobah and Anaf who were gloating at his defeat. He hit them across the face with the back of his hand and ordered them, pointing to the thieves, 'Break these two men!'

 "One man was to the left of Jesus and the other to the right. Periodically they would steel themselves, and press their bodies upward to relieve the pain in their shoulders, arms and hands, invariably reopening the wounds in their feet. This agony however gave no substantial relief and after a few moments they dropped back down and let out another long, deep groan, knowing that this agonising torture could last for days. "Gobah and Anaf had already been testing the two men, pressing them to the final stages of corruption. They had captured their hearts long ago. Now Anaf called up bitter memories and distorted them further. Each thought was a poison tipped barb.

 The first thief pressed his body upward so he could take a deeper breath. Through his clenched teeth, he tried to speak. This too was painful. He turned his head toward Jesus. Although his voice was weak, his spite was clear. 'Aren't you the Christ? Save yourself. Save us. Aren't you the savior of the Jews? Well, we're Jews, so save us.' He exhaled but refused to drop back down. Again he drew a breath. His anger grew. 'Some king you are. Where is your power? Where are your armies? You're no king. Death will soon reign over you just as it will over us.' With that he spat at him, then exhaled, took another breath and in dropping down again, he exhaled and groaned "Gobah was now more confident than ever. The second thief had been under his dominion for years. He had succeeded in making the man self-congratulating for every successful crime he had committed. Each failure had been attributed to the stupidity of his fellow thief.

  "Once again this spirit of pride crawled into the mind of the thief and spoke his crooked advice. 'This is your last chance for revenge. Take it out on this Jew. He's a hypocrite, false like those who betrayed you. Now is your chance. He is just like the ones who put you here: scum who claim to rule over you. This one has even claimed to be a king. Make this self-proclaimed king a fool. Drag him down from his lofty pride. Subject him to the same abuse which you have had to endure. You are the equal of any man. You have nothing to fear from this 'king'. What can he do nailed to that cross to die?'  "For once the second thief did not hear what he had been told. The unremittant pain had been an inescapable focus since he had been crucified. But something had happened a moment earlier which jolted him out of his pain. He saw how Jesus had shown forgiveness, sincere forgiveness, for the very men who were persecuting him. Now he was thinking for himself for the first time in years. 'What kind of man is this? How can he show mercy. How can he forgive? Who other than a king would act with nobility such as this.... But he cannot be an ordinary king.' Suddenly, the pain returned full force.

 "The second thief groaned. The pain in his upper torso and arms was again becoming unbearable. The extension of his arms, lungs and diaphram made breathing very difficult. He hiked himself up on the foot-rest and drew in a breath of air. He turned his head toward Jesus and then looked past him to the first thief. Haltingly, he spoke to his co-criminal. 'You're wrong.' He exhaled and took a short breath. With less movement there was less pain. 'We are punished justly. He is not.' Again he caught a short breath. He looked at Jesus. 'My Lord, ... remember me ... when you come into your kingdom.' He could not hold this position any longer. He exhaled and dropped back down. His head fell forward, his chin touching his chest. "Immediately, Gobah responded with an assault of doubt. The man had escaped his grip. 'What kind of kingdom will this man have? Look at him. His hope is gone. There will be no last minute rescue. His life is already all but spent. He will have no messianic kingdom here. You will find no salvation coming from him. Any hope you put in him is false. Only a fool would follow him. Don't throw away your pride by clinging to this empty lie.' "Due to the scourging before his crucifixion, Jesus was already very weak. He turned his head what little he could. It was just enough for their eyes to meet. He spoke softly, very slowly. 'I tell you the truth. Today you will be with me in paradise.' "The words pierced in the heart of the second thief, instantly convincing him. He thought, 'That voice is truth.' For Gobah it was as though he had been touched with hot iron. He leapt back from the thief, but refused to give up. He approached again, attempting to enter the mind of the second thief but a barrier of light and truth had gone up and his access was gone. "Another chief priest  approached Jesus. He was even more angry because of the reference to Jesus' kingship. Pilate had a title inscribed over the cross, 'Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.' This chief priest had demanded that Pilate remove the inscription, but Pilate refused, saying, 'What I have written will stand written.' He didn't realize that what he had written was true and would stand written for all time. A spirit of spite had inspired him to do it to mock the Jews, and also made him refuse to change it. Now the chief priest  sought to prove the inscription wrong. 'If he is the King of Israel, let him come down from that cross! He trusts in God, Let God deliver him.'  "The commander of the horde approached Jesus again. 'You do have the power to come down from that cross. The chief priest doesn't know it, but I do, and so do you. This is not necessary. We can make a deal. I will give to you the souls you desire. We don't need them all. We don't even want them all. In any case, the thief was right. This is unjust punishment. Why endure it? Leave it behind. This race is not worth such suffering. There must be another way than this.'

 "Jesus ignored him. 'I thirst.' He said and quietly quoted the psalm: 'Insults have broken my heart, so that I am in despair...'

 "'Then come down and drink.' The commander spoke with tempting consolation. Jesus again gave no response. At this the captain of the mob approached one of the soldiers. 'Give him a sponge filled with vinegar to drink!' "Jesus continued, 'I looked for pity, but there was none; and for comfort but none could be found. They gave me poison for food and for my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.'

 "Raphael rose to his feet, eager to serve. In the garden of Gethsemane, he had been assigned to bring Jesus the strength and consolation necessary to choose his Father's will. 'I want to help him.' He said. 'No man should carry such a burden alone.' Both thieves were groaning now louder than before. 'Michael...' he said turning toward me. He did not finish the question he began. Instead he lift his eyes toward heaven and listened. His answer was instant and clear. He was not to intervene, not this time. The cup of suffering had to be drunk. Today he was not to bring any comfort, minister no food nor drink, no light nor life.  "Gabriel, the great messenger, was also with us. He also wanted to intervene. Even just a few words could make a difference for Jesus. But Gabriel's orders were also clear. 'You, who are the servant of the Word, kneel and watch. You may not minister one word of truth, no vision of the future, no hint of hope. This is his final test. You must say nothing.'

 "The taunting and the lying continued around us. Another commander of the horde hovering at Jesus' right, spoke, 'You have failed. Where is your following? Your offer of salvation has been refused. Peter denied you. Judas betrayed you. Thomas doesn't believe you. Your training of these men was wasted. And where are all of those you were supposed to turn towards God? They have abandoned you. Where are all of those you healed? They don't care! Where are all of these angels who are supposed to bear you up on eagles wings? Even they tremble in fear before our great might. No, you have no following, no support. There is no future for you or these so-called disciples. It all ends, here, now! You are a failure, an irresponsible, incompetent failure.' "Gabriel prayed quietly. 'Father, let me help. What man can hold out against this? You have never before allowed a man to contend unaided with these our greatest enemies. We have always been sent to help. These are the ruthless: captains, commanders!' Gabriel waited, but no answer came. We knew it meant his appeal was rejected. He was not to intervene.

 "Suddenly Raphael spoke: 'Look...' All around Jesus the darkness was increasing, even though the demons had not drawn any closer. The weight of the darkness settled upon his shoulders and head. His head bowed further toward his chest. 'What form of evil is this?'  "We waited. Searching, sensing... 'Sin and guilt?' I said. "'Yes, certainly, but it is too thick, too heavy.' "'It is shame and bondage as well.' The evil was quickly becoming oppressive.

 "'I have never seen them combined this way - all together at once. Something is not right here.' "The darkness grew yet thicker. 'And now destruction, disease and death... It is every evil I have ever fought. "'But that is an impossible burden. No man can carry that.' "Now Jesus lifted himself high upon the cross, inhaled deeply and cried out, 'My God, my God, why have you abandoned me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning? Oh my God, I cry by day but you do not answer; and by night but find no rest...'  Under his breath, such that only I could hear, Gabriel said 'Do not give in to their lies. Do not give in!' With great effort, Gabriel held his tongue. In the midst of this near total darkness, Jesus was being tempted to believe that the Most High had abandoned him.

 "O how I longed to draw my sword, to enter the fight, to defend the right. I knelt on one knee before the cross, my forehead resting on the handle of my sheathed sword and prayed. 'Oh, Father, speak but the word. I am a warrior. This is my purpose, my calling. If ever there was a time for battle, surely now is the time to defeat these foes of God and man.' But the divine silence continued. We were not to intervene.

 "All around us, it grew yet darker. A great clap of thunder sounded. The sense of a personal evil grew much more oppressive. Men and women, without knowing why, bent down their heads and pulled up their hoods, hiding and shielding themselves. All of the heavenly host were turning their heads away and closing their eyes. The demonic horde itself was agitated. Now even the captains and commanders shuddered with terror. Their faces grew even more disfigured. Involuntarily the lesser demons arms and legs became grotesquely contorted. Elbows and knees were disjointed and bent backwards. Hands became gnarled and arthritic. Necks were bent. Heads were twisted. The despot of hell hardened his tyranny over each of his minions.

 "I forced myself to face what I knew was coming. I alone had ever been entrusted with the strength to stay the hand of Satan himself, though I was never permitted to destroy him. We have fought in Persia, in Russia and throughout the earth. Numerous times my master has called upon me to prevent Satan from accomplishing his works of terror and war. A righteous anger burns in me against him. I can tolerate neither his blasphemy nor his malice. How I longed to destroy his work once and for all.

  "I looked up at Jesus. His head was lifted. His eyes were attentive; his concentration sharp. After a pause he whispered, 'He is here. This is the hour when darkness shall reign.' "Rolling thunder sounded in the ears of men. In reality it was the deep appalling laugh of the ruler of darkness. Long, low, and mocking, again and again, the scornful laugh thundered. Now Satan's moment had come, and he spoke. 'Behold weakness incarnate. This is your god? Powerless, weak, and helpless. Your god is crippled by love - for fools! I DEMAND HIS LIFE!'

 "I rose. With force I whispered under my breath, 'No! No more! Your hatred and malice shall not be without limit. This must end! Father!' I cried. My hand went to my sword in order to be ready, but I was stopped in the act of drawing it. My command was given firmly. The Most High said, 'Michael, your sword must remain sheathed. You shall not defend his life. Do not lift your hand against our enemy: not until my Son's work is finished, not until full atonement is made, not until justice is satisfied, not until the suffering is complete and he has poured out his soul unto death. A mortal blow will be struck today.'

  "'Yes, my Lord.' I bowed and knelt again.  "Jesus was now in his final moments of suffering. As I watched, the will of the Most High grew clear. I trembled as I saw it. Sin had come into the world through one man and with sin, death invaded. One man's disobedience had lead to condemnation for all men. Now one man's obedience would lead to acquittal and life for all who call upon his name in faith. Yes, a mortal blow was to be struck, but Satan was not to be the one to strike it. It would be a blow against death and sin and Satan. It was to be no great army of angels slaying the power of sin, loosing the chains of death, shattering the bars of hell. It would be the work of a man. This man crippled by love for fools.  "Jesus grew weaker. He no longer had even the strength to breathe. A minute passed. The scourging had taken his strength and now the crucifixion was taking his life. Another minute passed. I watched Jesus open his eyes. In them I saw his love, love for all of humanity, but even more, I saw love for his Father and joy in doing his Father's will. One last time, with the last of his strength he raised himself up and inhaled. He lifted his eyes and said, 'It... is finished,'  yielding his spirit back into the hands of his Father. The body dropped, hanging by its arms and his head fell to his chest.

 I waited, wondering whether to say something. Michael had done more than recount the story. I felt that in telling it he had somehow nearly re-lived it. For a few moments neither of us moved. Then Michael looked into the nave of the cathedral. People were arriving for the 3pm service. "You must go and take your seat for the Good Friday service. Once it has ended, return."