My brother, listen, do not be afraid. I have descended into Hell to talk About forgiveness. Yes, Pilate, with you. With others too - with everyone who’s here. But you first. Even Judas, my old friend, Must wait a while for me. We have a while; The sempiternal agony of Hell Exists outside of human history. Souls killed in every century are here Millennia before and after you. You stand among those millions who share An everlasting sentence for the crime Of “just doing your job.” Your job killed me. Your job ripped my skin open with a lash And drove me, bleeding, shambling up the hill Where your job drove an eight inch iron spike Through each hand and each foot, and hoisted me Towards the sky and left me there for hours To slowly suffocate. You did your job To many more like me. Their names were all Forgotten as they rotted on the cross Unburied. Hell is teeming with the souls Who did their job, who served the empire well - Not just your empire, all the ones that rose And fell, before and after your own Rome’s. You asked me once what truth is. That is it. That is the truth about your whole life’s work. You know this and it sears worse than the flames. But that is not why I descended here. I’m here about forgiveness. Listen. Please.
In the beginning was the Word of God. That’s me. Like you, I had a job to do. By me all things were made, and without me Was nothing that was made. The universe Was my life’s work, the empire that I served. My father’s will for Mankind was my law. One act of disobedience was enough To sentence every one of you to death. I did my job, and did it thoroughly: The hands that made the stars built every tomb. They sculpted tumors, planted neat rows Of plagues in human lungs and skin and guts, Conducted rousing symphonies of storms, Earthquakes, tsunamis, fires, and wrote In stone: if you survive all this, the time itself Will kill you. Yet this law, My Father’s Law, No - our law, I share blame for it - forbade The dead to die. Infinities of pain, We gave as punishments for finite crimes. My father made me judge, and I looked down On human beings. I saw their sinfulness And built sparse Heaven and a crowded Hell. I thought this law was justice ‘til the day I learned what it is like to be condemned.
Pontius, I have no right to punish you. I killed you. I killed everyone you loved. I tortured you, but this ends here. You’re free. All Hell breaks out today. I will not judge. From now on, I refuse to do my job. I am not Christ the King. I abdicate. How you repay your debt to those you killed Is your own cross to carry - they decide Whether they will forgive you when you meet In Paradise. And Pontius, I forgive You for my death, of course. How could I not? But I’m not here to tell you that, I’m here To ask, to plead, for what I don’t deserve From everyone in Hell, but first from you. Brother, when we last met I said to you That you would have no power over me Were it not given from above, but now I bow my head, give power from below. I beg you for the one gift only you Can give me: I have sinned against you, please Brother, can you - will you - forgive my sins?