The Crucifixion

As Robin and I were returning to Boise from a missions conference in Portland , she read to us from one of the physician’s accounts of the crucifixion of Jesus. I don’t remember which one, there have been many since the advent of the science of medical pathology. We know with growing granularity how bad the physical suffering was.

The Romans knew what they were doing by crucifying a prisoner – causing excruciating and enduring agony that could last for days. Whatever the crime, the penalty of crucifixion was by far the worst penalty meted out; unimaginable pain relieved only by a death that would be a long time coming. Crucifixion was believed to be the most effective response to slave rebellion, whether in the owner’s garden or lining the road to Rome for miles.

Not very far into the report, tears formed in my eyes and soon I began to cry, wondering if I should pull over. I was overwhelmed with the pain and suffering that He was willing to endure for my sake.  

More striking, as the years passed and my familiarity with both Scripture and personal loneliness matured, I came to understand that Jesus was entirely on His own thru it all. He had been abandoned to the agonizing suffering by His Father and the Holy Spirit. His adoption of the unholiness of my rejection made Him unclean and offensive to them. And while the physical pain was overwhelming, the loneliness of being utterly forsaken and completely isolated was far worse.

Having some small understanding of the unrestrained love for me that compelled Him to ‘take my place’ both on the cross and in Sheol, the place of the dead, there is nothing that I won’t attempt for Him and nothing that I will withhold from Him. Galatians 2:20 takes on new meaning: “I am crucified with Christ…”

I am among the captives taken when “He took captivity captive…” (Eph.4:8).