Ep. 137: The Crucifixion
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MATTHEW 27:31-43, MARK 15:20-32, LUKE 23:26-38, JOHN 19:16-24
The terrible crime of slaying their Messiah-King rests, sadly, on Israel. Once more was he unrobed and robed. The purple robe was torn from his wounded body, the crown of thorns from his bleeding brow. He was led forth to execution. Only about two hours and a half had passed since the time that he had first stood before Pilate when the melancholy procession reached Golgotha.
The terrible preparations were soon made; the hammer, the nails, the cross, the very food for the soldiers who were to watch under each cross. Four soldiers would be detailed for each cross, the whole being under the command of a Centurion. As always, the cross was borne to the execution by him who was to suffer on it, perhaps his arms bound to it with cords. But there is happily no evidence - rather, every indication to the contrary - that, according to ancient custom, the neck of the sufferer was fastened within the patibulum, two horizontal pieces of wood, fastened at the end, to which the hands were bound.
Ordinarily, the procession was headed by the Centurion, who proclaimed the nature of the crime and carried a white, wooden board, on which it was written. Jesus came forth bearing his cross. He was followed by the two ‘robbers’. These two, also, would bear each his cross and probably be attended each by four soldiers. Crucifixion was not a Jewish mode of punishment and even Herod, with all cruelty, did not resort to this mode of execution. Nor was it employed by the Romans until after the time of Caesar, when, with the fast increasing cruelty of punishments, it became fearfully common in the provinces.
This cruel punishment characterises the domination of Rome in Judea under every governor. During the last siege of Jerusalem, hundreds of crosses appeared daily, until there seemed not sufficient room nor wood for them, and the soldiers diversified their horrible amusement by new modes of crucifixion. The crucifixion of Israel’s King put an end to the punishment of the cross, and instead, made the cross the symbol of humanity, civilisation, progress, peace and love.
In common with most abominations of the ancient world, whether in religion or life, crucifixion was of Phoenician origin, although Rome adopted and improved on it. The usual modes of execution among the Jews were strangulation, beheading, burning, and stoning. In all ordinary circumstances, the Rabbis were most reluctant to pronounce a sentence of death. The place where criminals were stoned (Beth haSeqilah) was on an elevation about eleven feet high, from where the criminal was thrown down by the first witness. If he had not died by the fall, the second witness would throw a large stone on his heart as he lay. If not yet lifeless, the rest of the people would stone him.
At a distance of six feet from the place of execution the criminal was undressed, only the covering absolutely necessary for decency being left. In the case of Jesus, we have reason to think that, while the mode of punishment to which he was subjected was un-Jewish, every concession would be made to Jewish custom, and therefore we thankfully believe that on the cross he was spared the indignity of naked exposure.
And so, the procession moved on towards Golgotha. Not only the location, but even the name of that which appeals so strongly to every Christian heart, is a matter of controversy. The name cannot have been derived from the skulls which lay about, since such exposure would have been unlawful, and must have been due to the skull-like shape and appearance of the place. Accordingly, the name is commonly explained as the Greek form of the Aramaic Gulgalta or the Hebrew Gulgoleth, which means a skull. Certain it is that Golgotha was ‘outside the gate’ and ‘near the city.’ In all likelihood, it was the usual place of execution. Lastly, we know that it was situated near gardens, where there were tombs and close to the highway. This all points to the north of Jerusalem.
From the ancient Palace of Herod, the procession descended and probably passed through the gate in the first wall and so into the busy quarter of Acra. As it proceeded, the numbers who followed from the Temple, from the dense business quarter through which it moved, increased. Shops, bazaars, and markets were, indeed, closed on the holy Feast day. But quite a crowd of people would come out to line the streets and to follow; and, especially, women, leaving their festive preparations, raised loud laments, not in spiritual recognition of Christ’s claims, but in pity and sympathy.
Jesus bore his cross up to the last gate which led from the suburb towards the place of execution. Then his strength gave way under it and a man ordered to help him. This was Simon, who was coming from the opposite direction, one from that large colony of Jews which, as we know, had settled in Cyrene. He seems to have been well known, at least afterwards, in the Church - and his sons Alexander and Rufus even more so than he.
While the cross was laid on the unwilling Simon, the women who had followed closed around, raising their cries. At his entrance into Jerusalem, Jesus had wept over the daughters of Jerusalem; as he left it for the last time, they wept over him. But far different were the reasons for his tears from theirs of mere pity.
It was nine o’clock when the sad procession reached Golgotha and the even sadder preparations for the crucifixion commenced. The punishment was invented to make death as painful and as lingering as the power of human endurance could bear. First, the upright wood was planted in the ground. It was not high and probably the feet of the sufferer were not above one or two feet from the ground. Thus, could the conversation described in the Gospels take place between him and others. Next, the transverse wood was placed on the ground and the sufferer laid on it with his arms were extended, drawn up and bound to it.
Then a strong, sharp nail was driven, first into the right, then into the left hand. Next, the sufferer was drawn up using ropes, perhaps ladders; the transverse either bound or nailed to the upright, with a rest or support for the body (sedile) fastened on it. Lastly, the feet were extended and either one nail hammered into each or a larger piece of iron through the two.
And so might the crucified hang for hours, even days, in the unutterable anguish of suffering, until consciousness at last failed. It was a merciful Jewish practice to give to those who were led to execution a draught of strong wine mixed with myrrh to deaden consciousness. This charitable office was performed at the cost of, if not by, an association of women in Jerusalem. That draught was offered to Jesus when he reached Golgatha. But having tasted it. He would not drink it. Edersheim describes his inner struggle:
‘No man could take his Life from him; he had power to lay it down and to take it up again. Nor would he here yield to the ordinary weakness of our human nature; nor suffer and die as if it had been a necessity, not a voluntary self-surrender. He would meet Death, even in his sternest and fiercest mood and conquer by submitting to the full. And so was he nailed to his Cross, which was placed between, probably somewhat higher than, those of the two criminals crucified with him.’
One thing only still remained; to affix to his cross the so-called ‘title’ (titulus) on which was written the charge on which he had been condemned. It had evidently been drawn up under the direction of Pilate. It was trilingual; in Latin, Greek and Aramaic. It seems only natural that the fullest and to the Jews most offensive description should have been in Aramaic, which all could read.
We imagine that the Sanhedrists had originally no intention of doing anything so un-Jewish as not only to gaze at the sufferings of the crucified but to even mock him in his agony or perhaps they had not intended going to Golgotha at all. But when they found that Pilate had organised the sign in Aramaic, some of them hastened to the place of crucifixion and mingling with the crowd, sought to incite their jeers, to prevent any deeper impression which the significant words of the inscription might have produced.
Before nailing him to the cross, the soldiers parted his clothes among themselves. There was, as John states, first a division into four parts - one to each of the soldiers - of such garments that were of nearly the same value. The headgear, the outer cloak, the girdle and the sandals, would differ little in cost. But the question, which of them was to belong to each of the soldiers, would naturally be decided, as the Gospel writers inform us, by lot. But, besides these four articles of dress, there was the seamless woven inner garment, by far the most valuable of all and for which, as it could not be partitioned without being destroyed, they would specially cast lots.
It was when they nailed Him to the cross and parted his garments that he spoke the first of the so-called Seven Words; Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. Even the reference in this prayer to ‘what they do’ (not in the past, nor future) points to the soldiers as the primary, though certainly not the sole object of the Saviour’s prayer. The first and the last of his utterances begin with ‘Father,’ so does he show by the unbrokenness of his faith and fellowship the real spiritual victory which he has won. Has this prayer of Jesus been answered? We dare not doubt it; we perceive it in some measure in those blessings which have fallen upon Gentile unbelievers and have left also to Israel, even in its ignorance, a remnant according to the election of grace.
And now began the real agonies of the Cross - physical, mental, and spiritual. It was the weary, unrelieved waiting, as thickening darkness gradually gathered around. Before sitting down to their melancholy watch over the crucified, the soldiers would refresh themselves with cheap wine after their exertion in nailing Jesus to the cross, then lifting it up and fixing it. As they swigged it, they drank to him in their coarse brutality and mockingly came to him, asking him to respond.
Edersheim is blunt in his condemnations:
‘What is the most galling is the unutterable abasement of the Leaders of Israel - their moral suicide as regarded Israel’s hope and spiritual existence. There, on that Cross, hung he, who at least embodied that grand hope of the nation; who, even on their own showing, suffered to the extreme for that idea, and yet renounced it not, but clung fast to it in unshaken confidence; One, to whose Life or even teaching no objection could be offered, save that of this grand idea. And yet, when it came to them in the ribald mockery of these heathen soldiers, it evoked no other or higher thoughts in them; and they had the indescribable baseness of joining in the jeer at Israel’s great hope, and of leading the popular chorus in it!’
He saved others - himself he cannot save! he is the King of Israel!Let him now come down from the Cross, and we will believe in him! These are the words of the Sanhedrists, and they seem to respond to those of the soldiers, as reported by Luke and to carry them further.
Now, at the close of his Messianic Work, the tempter suggested, in the challenge of the Sanhedrists, that Jesus had suffered absolute defeat and that God had publicly disowned the trust which the Christ had put in him. ‘He trusts in God: let him deliver him now, if he will have him.’
Here, as in the Temptation in the wilderness, the words misapplied were those of Holy Scripture - in the present instance those of Psalm 22:8. The derision of the Sanhedrists under the cross was not entirely spontaneous but had a special motive. The place of crucifixion was close to the great road which led from the north to Jerusalem. On that Feast day, many would pass in and out of the city and the crowd would naturally be intrigued by the spectacle of the three crosses. Equally naturally they would have been impressed by the title of Christ over the cross. The words, describing the Sufferer as ‘the King of the Jews,’ might, when taken in connection with what was known of Jesus, have raised the most dangerous questions.
The Sanhedrists were keen to prevent this by turning the crowd’s attention in a totally different direction, through their taunts. Their self-condemnation was building and building.
This is an extract from the book, Jesus : Life and Times, available for £12 here (Finalist for Academic Book of the year at 2023 CRT awards)