Crucifixion: Roman cruelty
Let us take the time to understand the nature of crucifixion as an execution measure. This is not so we might revel in the macabre, but rather that we should have a better understanding of the actions of Jesus Christ in demonstrating his love for us, God’s love, in his death in the ugly and ignominious manner of the cross.
Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged (John 19:1).
This small verse, easily overlooked, refers to the Roman practice of beating a condemned prisoner with a flagellum, a multi-thread whip of leather thongs with pieces of lead attached. The lead balls penetrated the skin and tore at the subcutaneous tissue beneath, leading to considerable blood loss. The beating continued until the prisoner collapsed (some prisoners died of the flogging before reaching the cross) and it is sensible to consider this flogging as a genuine contribution to the fatality of the event. § The two verses immediately following, which speak of the crown of thorns and the facial beating, also imply that Jesus was tortured more than the average prisoner.
Carrying his own cross, he went out to the place of the Skull (which in Aramaic is called Golgotha) (John 19:17).
The prisoner was then compelled to carry the patibulum (the cross bar of the crucifix) to the place of execution: the stipes (vertical pole) was already mounted at the execution site. This is an especially hard task because a single beam is more difficult to carry than a crucifix, the latter having a convenient junction against which a shoulder can be braced (many artists depict Jesus’ efforts in this way, quite possibly erroneously).
Here they crucified him, and with him two others — one on each side and Jesus in the middle (John 19:18).
Upon arrival the prisoner was nailed to the patibulum, with the nail driven between the ulna and the radius at the wrist, and the patibulum attached to the stipes, forming the cross.
A small sign (the titulus) stating the victim’s crime was carried in the procession to the execution site and nailed to the top of the cross. Because Pilate could find no crime of which to convict Jesus, it is prepared to read: JESUS OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS (19:19). Ironically the titulus performed its function well: it declares in three languages a most heinous crime: that the innocent King of the Jews has indeed been taken by wicked hands and crucified. The irony in this case lies in the fact that the one beneath the titulus is the victim of the crime and not the perpetrator; nevertheless the crime that the occupied crucifix declares is very real indeed.
Crucifixion: Jewish curse
It is also instructive to appreciate the social stigma associated with execution by crucifixion, for execution by “hanging on a tree” was especially accursed under the Mosaic Law (Deut. 21:22-23). Therefore Christ is one of the shamefully accursed — for our sakes — as the scriptural writers clarify:
Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written: “Cursed is everyone who is hung on a tree” (Gal. 3:13, quoting Deut. 21:23). Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God (Heb. 12:2).
Leviathan strikes: Death
Asphyxiation was the commonest single cause of death by crucifixion: the difficulty of breathing from a crucified position is well documented, if not commonly appreciated. Exhalation is inhibited by the high, fixed position of the arms from which the body hangs; and with the blood loss from the beating and the nails, the prisoner slowly suffocates under the weight of his own body. Some crosses were constructed with a small shelf from which the feet could push upwards to help the victim exhale. Far from being a kindness, this prolonged the fatal result, and therefore the suffering. By contrast, at other times the soldiers broke both of the victim’s legs to prevent them from pushing upwards to exhale and thus greatly speed death (although this is also impossible to argue as a kindness).
When he had received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished.” With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit (19:30).
At last then: death. Real death for the Lord Jesus Christ: an extinction of all sentient existence upon the cross at Calvary. The serpent has bruised the heel of the man child. Ironically it is in this, the serpent’s strongest day, that he is mortally wounded, even destroyed. But for now we stand at the foot of the cross and regard the empty throne, for Jesus has been removed from the world, and the serpent stands in the fullest extent of his might.
Because the Jews did not want the bodies left on the crosses during the Sabbath, they asked Pilate to have the legs broken and the bodies taken down (19:31).
We have commented before on the spiritual emptiness of the Jewish feasts that is created by their total lack of understanding for what they should be remembering and doing (Article 8), but this stipulation acts as a particularly crass attempt by the Jews to demonstrate piety. They have crucified the innocent Messiah, and now they wish to demonstrate their purity and righteousness by insisting the corpse they themselves ordered killed (the Passover Lamb indeed) be removed from the cross so that the holiness of the Passover Sabbath (their Passover: see John 2:13, 6:4, 11:55) should not be impugned.
Son of Man: Brokenhearted
But when they came to Jesus and found that he was already dead, they did not break his legs. Instead, one of the soldiers pierced Jesus’ side with a spear, bringing a sudden flow of blood and water (19:33-34).
It is interesting that the scripture gives us this detail, because a corpse under normal circumstances does not bleed. Those trained in the medical sciences (this author not included) conclude that the Lord had suffered a heart rupture some hours previous to the crucifixion (the idea being that the blood seeps through the rupture into the outer sac – pericardium – around the heart where it begins to separate and which the soldier’s spear pierced). Additional symptoms of heart rupture include blood seeping through the sweat glands, to which Luke may be referring (Luke 22:44). Medical sources further indicate that heart rupture is commonly induced by a severe emotional trauma, s which is interesting because the idea that the Lord suffered a severe emotional trauma prior to the crucifixion is a matter of scriptural record, and not speculation. John Mark records Jesus saying in Gethsemane:
“My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death” (Mark 14:34).
Clearly, Jesus was suffering badly, for these comments cannot be considered as melodramatic posturing, which they might have been from anybody else. Nor should the effects of this suffering be considered limited to the emotional and psychological – the most severe cases of emotional and psychological trauma invariably have consequences on the physical body. We can believe that, at this point in Gethsemane, the emotional suffering of Christ was sufficient that his heart was physically ruptured.
Yet it is not the medical details which are important. What is important is the completion of God’s will in Gethsemane and beyond to Calvary. We can speak of the one who “bore our sins” so glibly, as if that were some simple matter. But careful consideration of the texts we are so privileged to explore suggests that bearing the sins of all humanity, and feeling the total divorce that those sins bring from the Father, could break the very heart of a man. Compare these insightful words of David, the man after God’s own heart, with the reality of Gethsemane:
You know how I am scorned, disgraced and shamed; all my enemies are before you. Scorn has broken my heart and has left me helpless; I looked for sympathy, but there was none, for comforters, but I found none (Psa. 69:19-20).
And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground (Luke 22:44). Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Simon,” he said to Peter; “are you asleep? Could you not keep watch for one hour?” (Mark 14:3 7).
How interesting that David speaks explicitly of a broken heart! Perhaps those who leap to assume that this statement is merely a metaphor in prophecy do so a little too quickly. Truly in Gethsemane, Christ endures the acute (literally) heart-breaking agony of bearing the sins of man, feeling divorced from fellowship with the loving Father, and finding no one to sympathize, comfort, or even understand what was happening. It should be stressed that exactly what this “agony” entailed, in terms of the thoughts that were going through the mind of Jesus is not properly understood by this author. We repair to metaphor, dramatic in expression though feeble of understanding, and speak of “fighting the beast” and “bearing our sins,” not in order to enhance this text through striking pictorial associations, but simply because we fail to be able to offer any better understanding. Maybe we will never really know what the weight of that pain means, but it will doubtless benefit, and hopefully humble, each of us to take some time to think about it.
Son of God: Victorious
Perhaps the most signature characteristic of the fifth day of the creation sequence in Genesis is that, unlike the other two days of the latter cycle, there is no ruler. The sun, moon and stars of Day 4 are set in government over times and seasons (Genesis 1:17-18), and likewise Adam in Day 6 is set in dominion over all creatures of Day 6 — and of Day 5 (Genesis 1:28). Thus Day 5 alone is bereft of a focal leader (at least before Day 6 is come). How well this section of John’s Gospel reflects that scenario — the disciples are deprived of their leader, who hangs dead on the cross; they are (seemingly) confined to a fate of wandering the Earth as directionless in leadership as the birds of the air and the fish of the sea.
Yet lest we become over-focused on the negative aspects of Day 5, which are considerable, the greatest victory of all is contained within this darkest day. Such is the nature of scriptural truths that the victory is contained within the heaviest moment of despair: the death of the Messiah. The Son of God has lowered himself into the waters of death in Day 5 of the spiritual creation, where leviathan dwells. He dies; and thus no ruler in this day can be found, and yet it is within his death that life for all men will be found.
We find once again compelling testimony of the superlative of the spiritual creation over the natural. Adam’s death by virtue of his sin, instigated by the serpent’s guile, resulted in nothing other than the loss of life of man. By contrast, Christ’s death, here in Day 5 of the spiritual creation, contained within that death the hope of life for every man. In his death, he destroyed the devil (Heb. 2:14); and in the provision of his blood (the wine first asked for in Cana), he provided a road for all men to walk toward salvation (Rom. 5:8-10).
He who dies a natural death (as Adam) is dead, and his thoughts are extinguished (Eccl. 9:5-6). But he who dies a spiritual death (in Christ) begins a pathway to life eternal in that death (Rom. 6:1-11).
Conclusions from Day 5
What then have we seen? Gruesome things, for sure, but no lack of support for the creation model we are investigating. Day 5: The waters of Death, Leviathan’s domain and the empty throne.
Even a cursory appraisal of this section confirms that it contains all of the malign aspects of the ministry of Jesus. He speaks explicitly of his impending death, of having to “lay down his life” (15:13). We also encounter frequent use of the word “hatred,” used in reference to the world’s rejection of their Messiah: two thirds of the occurrences of the word “hatred” in John are here in this section we have defined as Day 5.
We have seen a good reflection of the separation (expanse) between the living and dead waters of creation in the growing distance between the disciples and Christ, as they cannot keep pace with the accelerated spiritual pace of Jesus’ teaching, nor comprehend nor believe that he is really about to die. This separation culminates in the desertion of Jesus by all of the twelve. Explicit failures are seen in the denial of Peter, and, far worse for it is never recanted, the betrayal of Jesus by Judas Iscariot.
Most importantly, Day 5 contains the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, the Seed of the Woman promised in Eden, via the agony in the Garden and the flogging to the actual death at Calvary. Leviathan, the Prince of this World secures his temporary victory over the Prince of Peace as the latter hangs dead — and cursed — upon the cross. Yet the fulfillment of Eden’s covenant is completed in full, the Seed bruises the head of the serpent as the power of death is itself destroyed.
We have seen that Day 5 forms a contrasting counterpart to Day 2 (as we anticipated that it should, being that the two days are partners in the “Sea” section — see Article 3). We have seen how the words of Jesus caused people to be raised up and closer to him (both physically and through enlightenment) in Day 2 (John 5:8-9,28-29; 4:29,42). By contrast we see how the words of Jesus caused people to be cast down and placed further from him (both physically and in lack of understanding) in Day 5 (John 16:17-18; 18:6). The interesting connection of both John the Baptist and Jesus speaking of the completion of their work, in Days 2 and 5 respectively, by both alluding to the same description of “joy being made complete” also provides an evident link between these two days. The contrast between them is maintained in that while the completion of the Baptist’s work heralds the happy entry of the Bridegroom into Israel, the completion of Jesus’ work sees the sinful execution of the Bridegroom by wicked hands, and the throne prepared for him (seemingly) set to remain empty.
Finally, as with all the preceding days, we have also seen here with the fatal picture of Day 5 the excellence of the spiritual creation over the natural. In the natural creation we find only death — specifically, Adam and Eve’s death. But in the spiritual creation we find life eternal — even in death — from the actions of the Seed of the woman; and the doorway to the House of the Living God where that life might be found, and found abundantly.
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One