Now another thorn began throbbing relentlessly. It was on my face—the face of a Jew. I realize this thorn represented the hate of those different from oneself. Although my own people, the Jews, had betrayed me, the Romans had always hated the Jews and took particular delight in crucifying those who were not Roman. They were believed to be inferior to the Romans in most Roman minds. And I knew this too would not end with my death but would be carried on for generations to come. That somehow humans could not realize that God created all peoples, and each soul reflected the Creator. I did not hate the Romans; they were part of my destiny, but I wept for the future generations of people who would be hated because they were Jews, because their skin was a different color, because they worshiped differently from those in power, because they loved differently from those who hated them. Maybe it was hating, maybe it was fear, but it was not how we intended the world to live. That thorn brought me much pain. 

Then, a small thorn caused me pain, knowing I was deserted by my friends. Loneliness washed over me. I had been baptized by my cousin, John and, at that time, love washed over me in unceasing waves. Now waves of loneliness overcame me. And I wept for those who lived their lives in loneliness. The lepers who were abandoned by their families and friends, the widow who had no one to care for her, the orphan so was left to find his or her own way in the world, the stranger in a foreign land. And again, I felt the deep hurt of knowing, even after the time I spent on earth trying to teach compassion, that this loneliness would always be a part of the human experience. 

A deep thorn on the crown pricked at me unceasingly, it was the thorn of political divisiveness that had caused this whole torture to come about. It went beyond the “differentness” of the Romans and the Jews. It was the abuse of power by both parties. The Jews: “We’ll show you to question the power of the scholars of the law and the seekers of the messiah that will come and save us from oppression. All you do is preach love—love your enemies, render unto Caesar—you are a traitor to your people.” The Romans: “These Jews have to be stopped from gaining political power—we have to kill all these so-called messiahs before they get out of hand.” They feared the Jews because they feared the God the Jews trusted and believed in.  

A final thorn caused the blood to again fill my eyes. It was the thorn of despair. Not for myself, I knew this was part of the plan of salvation and I had to pay the price. But despair for the realization that while many lives would be changed because of the moment that was upon me, it was the despair of helplessness and of hopelessness that in many ways, things would not change. The political divisiveness, the fear and hatred of the “other,” the destruction of God’s creation, the loneliness brought about by an uncaring civilization, the pain of watching loved ones suffer, the betrayal and denial of friend against friend, and the pain of the unjustly accused. These would go on long after my pain ended. And for this I wept more than from the pain of the thorns. 

Questions for Study and Reflection 

1. Which thorn do you think made Jesus weep the most? 

2. Have you ever felt physical pain from despair, political divisiveness, loneliness, being hated because you were “different,” betrayal, the destruction of Creation, denial, pain of your loved ones, or the pain of the unjustly accused? 

3. Which of these things might be causing you pain right now? 

Each chapter has study questions, making it a good resource for book clubs and group studies. Get the book here