My Son, the Messiah - Raymond Smith
Throughout the whole Roman Empire it was what every mother dreaded: crouching at the foot of a wooden stake, waiting for your son to breathe his last and to bring to an end hours of excruciating pain and torture.
As well as the usual feelings that somehow it was wrong that the child should die before his mother, there was the confusion as to why my son, my firstborn, should be in that awful situation. Why was he being treated as a criminal? And not just any criminal, but on a par with insurrectionists?
“How long?” was in everyone’s thoughts, if not on their lips…