The Cross as Irony

Irony-4. Incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs...-The American Heritage Dictionary 1971
Ironies on the Cross Ironic isn't it that He who spoke the world into existence speaks so little from the cross? It words are filled with meaning, its silence even more.
 Ironic isn't it that He who planted the world with seed-bearing plants and trees on the land is Himself planted on a tree and bears both the sin of the world and the fruit of righteousness?
 Is it more than irony that He who would never need to experience forgiveness offers it to every dumb sucker working for the system that put Him on the cross; every mean sucker hiding behind religious custom who pulled strings to get Him there; and every other person from that day forward who was sucked into sin?
 Is it not ironic that He speaks of finding paradise for a man who should have by all means found hell while at that moment He is Himself experiencing it? Can it be that He who could pack clouds into His hands like snowballs and throw them at the back of angels halos is alone as no other ever experienced alone-ness? Could He whose kinship with Father and Spirit that was as close as a notion be totally alone and shrouded in heavy darkness? Did Father really turn His back on Him? Did Father cover His Son with darkness to hide the shame? Did the light of the world simply go out? Was this why He who felt so utterly forsaken so as to despair of even the presence of God promise that He would never leave nor forsake you?
 It is not ironic that He who scooped out the depths of the oceans with the palm of His hand, who could trace out the rivers with the tip of His finger, and by pressing His thumb into the earth and form every lake cried out, "I thirst." With just a twitch from His bloodied brow to command it, every body of water on the earth would have gladly changed its course to the foot of the cross to sooth their master's tongue and every cloud would have wrung itself dry of its precious nectar to relieve the fire in His mouth.
But the command was never spoken, for it was not His thirst He was quenching that day, it was ours. 
Cos