CRUCIFIED
I recently received a newsletter which contained an article
written by the late C.M. Ward. It is not enjoyable, but it
is an important
read.
Crucified! No death was so
thorough, no shame so complete. First,
there was the
scourging. The
scourging post was two feet high. An iron ring,
placed
close to the top, projected
from the sides.
Clothing was
ripped
away from
the prisoner so that he
stood naked. Roman lectors were professionals. They
confined their labors to the fine, brutal art of scouring
and they could beat a
victim until
only the barest spark
of life
remained.
Wrist were
firmly
shackled to the
iron rings.
Then, the victim was stretched, face down with his
feet
pointing away from the post.
The Romans scourge was a
flagra, a short
handled whip
consisting of several
thin
iron chains which ended in
small
weights. Scouring was
called
the little death. It preceded
the big
death-crucifixion.
"Then
Pilate took Jesus, and scourged
him." John
19:1.
Even the tension of awaiting the
first blow was cruel. The body
became rigid, the muscles
knotting
in tormenting cramps. Color drained from the
cheeks. Lips
were drawn tight
against the teeth. As the
whip descended
the
chains fanned out across the
back and
each link cut through the skin and deep
into the flesh.
The weights crashed
with bruising force into the ribs
and curled bitingly
around the
chest.
When a
man was scourged there
was pain beyond the memory of pain.
Sweat burst from the brow and stung the
eyes. At each
stroke of the flagra,
the victims' body twitched like a beheaded
chicken. The
second stroke patterned
the back and half the
chest with a
V-shaped
network of small cuts. Only
the Son
of God could hold back the high pitched wail
of unbearable
agony. The very juice
of life was torn away with every lash. There
was only the
blinking burning pain
as the cruel whips
whistled again
and again
through the air and across
the
shoulders. The flagra could flay a man alive.
Under the
Hebrew law the strokes
were limited to thirty-nine. Roman punishment
was not so
limited. There was only
one rule for the lector
who
scourged
a man
about to be crucified: he must not die.
A spark of life must be sustained for
the agony on the
cross. Men have
bitten their tongue into under such
beatings.
The
next step was
the parade to the
execution ground. "And
they
led Him away to crucify Him."
Matt 27:31. A centurion usually would serve as the
executioner. While four soldiers held the prisoner, the
centurion placed the
sharp iron
spike in the dead center
of the palm
of the hand. Four or
five
strokes
hammered the
spike deep
into the
plank, another stroke turned the spike
up so that
the hand could not slip free. A small
projection known as
the sedile,
fitted solidly through the
crotch to
take most of the weight off the condemned
man's
hands. Then a nail was driven
through each foot. The wounds in His hands
sent fire down
His arms. Fainting
only relieved
temporarily. The pain in
the
back, feet and crotch was a
dull
throbbing, endless pain. The
pain built up. It
multiplied.
There
was not a moment of respite. "When He
suffered, He
threatened
not; but committed
Himself to Him
that judgeth righteously." 1 Peter
2:23.
"I am
poured out like
water, and all my bones are out of joint; my
heart is like
wax; it is melted in
the midst of my bowels.
My strength
is dried
like a potsherd; and my
tongue
cleaveth to my jaws; and thou hast brought me
unto the
dust of death. For dogs
have compassed me; they pierced my hands and my
feet: I
may tell all my bones; they
look and stare upon
me. They
part my
garments among them and cast down my
vesture." Psalms 22 . Then the thirst
began. The lips were
dry, the mouth
parched, the blood hot, the skin fevered.
The greatest of
all need at the
moment was one drop of
cool water, but
water was
denied. "After this Jesus
saith,
I thirst" John 19:28
The sun shone
directly into
the eyes, even when
the eyes were closed, a red glare penetrated.
The tongue
thickened, what was once
saliva was now like
unloomed
wool.
Swelling
began in the hands and feet, the
sedile dug deeply into the genitals. It was
impossible to
change position. The
real horror was only beginning. One by one
the muscles of
the back gathered
into knotty cramps. After
two hours on
the
cross every muscle in the body
was locked
in solid knots. The agony was beyond
endurance. Men
shrieked themselves
into insanity. Death by crucifixion made the
agony last as
long as possible.
Every hour was an
eternity. Prayer
seemed to
mock a man, but he either
prayed or cursed, "My God, my God, why hast thou
forsaken
me?" Matt. 27:46. Could
there ever be more intense suffering this side
of
Hell?