R.C. Sproul

I don't think I'll ever enjoy this kind of work.

I think I'm better at special jobs like carrying important people.

But Davy had to carry things every day.

Sometimes he carried sacks of olives.

Sometimes one of the servants rode him on an errand for his master.

Davy didn't enjoy any of it.

He couldn't understand why his master was giving him such ordinary tasks.

One morning, one of his master's servants led Davy to a village on the other side of Jerusalem.

As they were returning through the city, Davy saw a crowd coming down the street toward him.

The people seemed to be shouting angrily at someone as they moved along.

The servant led Davy to the side of the road so the crowd could pass.

Davy saw the person the people were shouting at.

It was Jesus, the King Davy had carried into Jerusalem amid such joy only a few days before.

But now the people seemed furious at Jesus.

Davy wondered about that.

Then Davy noticed that Jesus was carrying something.

A rough, heavy beam of wood.

Jesus seemed to be struggling to carry the beam.

With a gasp, Davy saw that Jesus was hurt.

His back was covered with cuts and bruises.