Chapter 480 Lord, Have Mercy! Lord, Have Mercy

"A sharp Long Spear pierced Your wounded heart. From Your radiant body flowed water and blood—the wine of forgiveness, spilled for all—as God’s beautiful, only Son breathed His last.

"Then, they rushed to tear You down from the Cross! You were dragged through the streets, shoved into a sack! The body of Heaven’s Most High King was wrapped in common cloth, not fine linen or soft fur.

"The hewn-stone tomb became Your home, my love. The solitude of a sod house was Your new domain in the realm of bones. Caesar’s soldiers guarded the tomb’s door, lest those murderers disturb Your deathly sleep.

"Were they still afraid of You? They had already killed You, the Lord of all things, yet still they stood guard, glancing about with trembling hands. Darkness fell upon the land. And how could it not? The Light of Life was sealed within a tomb, and the grasping night was filled with the smiles of Demons.

"Friends," Brother John said in a low voice, his words growing faint as he recalled that terrible night, "the enemies of Light and Life held a grand celebration. Their revelry echoed through the very halls of Heaven.

God the Father looked down in sorrow. ’Behold, Michael!’ He called to His champion. ’They have killed My beloved son. That is grievous enough, but they ought not to be rejoicing. Is it right that evil should celebrate the death of the only righteous one?’

"And Michael, servant of light, replied, ’Lord, You know it is not. Only give the order, my King, and I will annihilate them all with my flaming Sword.’

"Oh, but the merciful Lord placed a finger to His lips. He said: ’Patience, patience. All in good time. I am not God if I seem helpless before calamity. Just stand aside, and watch what I will do.’

"The Most High King of the Celestial Realm, His great heart shattered by grief, looked down upon that desolate cemetery. A single tear fell from His loving eyes, a tear that landed upon the body of His martyred son, the Prince of Peace. That tear struck Christ’s wounded face, and sweet life swiftly returned to Him.

"The great King turned to His champion and said, ’Friend, why do you still hesitate? You see. Roll away that stone and set My son free!’

Michael descended to the earth like lightning. He touched the cursed stone, and with a mere flick of his finger, sent the massive millstone flying."

"You rose! Christ, victorious over Death! You tore off the sack and stood tall. Death, that weak and wretched thing, shattered at Your feet. You kicked away the shards and strode from the tomb, as the ’brave’ soldiers collapsed, felled by the sheer glory of it!"

Brother John threw open his arms. "A thousand welcomes, O blessed King! A thousand welcomes, O eternal youth!

Hail, Lord of Grace, who endured all that Death could inflict—for the stubborn children of Adam, You suffered, yes, and willingly died.

Firstborn of Life, it was You who carried each of us from the grave, as we all clung to Your broad back."

"So look upon this Cross, my friends, and rejoice. Reflect, and praise the Lord who has the power to bring the dead back to life.

Can you feel His presence in these words of praise!

This is what it feels like to be chosen, to accept God’s call to a great mission: our hearts magnify the Lord, and our spirits rejoice in God our Savior, for He has regarded the humble state of His servants.

Now we pray to the merciful Lord,

May the Three surround me,

May the Three aid me,

May the Three protect me,

And save me forever!

Help me in times of peril,

Help me in times of hardship,

Help me in every danger,

Help me always!

Water cannot drown me,

The flood cannot overwhelm me,

Saltwater cannot submerge me,

Uphold me always!

Dispel the storm!

Dispel the gale!

Dispel the cruel, killing waves!

In the name of the Father of Life, the Triumphant Son, and the Most Holy Spirit, may victory be eternal. Amen, Amen, Amen!"

And so, everyone gazed at the Cross towering against the fiery red sunset and shouted in unison, "Amen, Amen, Amen! O Lord!"

The brothers holding harps, who had been waiting for this moment, began to play. They sang Hymns and, of course, other songs—ancient ballads older than any of the tribes or clans that laid claim to them, older even than the green, wooded hills.

Finally, it was time for the night vigil, a simple rite of prayer.

There was no prescribed ritual, save for the personal customs each participant brought to it.

Many recited the Psalms, genuflecting after each one. Some prayed throughout the night, either prostrate or kneeling with legs crossed. Others kept a silent watch, awaiting the Lord’s presence, meditating on a holy name, or focusing on an aspect of the divine.

The one constant was the atmosphere of grief and despair, which showed no sign of abating.

Brother John seemed determined to recite all one hundred and fifty Psalms. He chanted in a low voice, bowing deeply at the start of each one and falling to his knees at the end, crying out, "Lord, have mercy! ... Christ, have mercy!"

After a full day’s Mass, his throat was already raw. His once-booming voice had become ragged and harsh.

Brother John’s fervor was infectious, and soon nearly everyone had joined him.

The somber atmosphere was finally broken, but in its place rose a great chorus of "Lord, have mercy! ... Christ, have mercy!"

It was a form of spiritual self-flagellation, a plea for the tears of Christ.

Eric did not join in. He had to find a way to change the situation.

’A miracle... They’re desperate for a miracle...’

Eric murmured to himself, watching the crowd kneeling on the ground, begging God for mercy. His gaze suddenly landed on a particular spot.

....

God exists to guide the faithful, yet the faithful always crave a sign from Him.

Hama City passed a somber night, with everyone praying for God to grant them a miracle.

Perhaps God truly heard their cries.

At dawn the next day, an Armenian farmer named Stephen found an English Baron and made a strange request: he must see Lord Eric immediately.

The Baron told him he had no time for such trivial matters, as he was organizing teams to build fortifications.

The farmer named Stephen grabbed the Baron’s sleeve.

"Sir," he said, "I have seen Christ!"

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Hosanna: A transliteration of the Hebrew word "??????" (Hoshana), meaning "please save us" or "Lord, save us." This word holds significant meaning in both Judaism and Christianity, especially during the celebrations of Passover and Holy Week. It symbolizes the believers’ cry and hope for a savior.