Six simple words.
That’s all that Matthew tells us.
About the act of crucifying the saviour.
And Matthew’s scant words tell us something.
These six English word’s, (only three in the Greek),
they tell us.
They tell us how typical this was.
‘And
when they had crucified him.’
Almost like it was an everyday task.
Like putting the bins out.
Or doing the washing up.
Almost like an everyday task.
Which it was.
To the soldiers who held down his arms.
Who gripped his hands and stretched them out wide.
Who forced the nails home into his wrists.
And through his feet.
Piercing flesh, tearing muscle and scraping bone.
‘And
when they had crucified him.’
There is no mystery here.
There is no Hollywood movie glamour.
Only harsh nails.
And harsh actions.
Actions not motivated by hate, or intolerance.
Not actions charged with anger and frustration:
Although there was plenty of that going round.
No, the hands that crucified Jesus were the same hands
that guarded palaces.
The same hands that controlled crowds and followed
commands.
The same hands that fought with swords and gripped
shields tightly.
‘And
when they had crucified him.’
Another crucifixion.
That was all it was.
Another crucifixion in a long line of crucifixions.
Three this day.
Countless numbers in the days and weeks and months
before.
And countless numbers in the days and weeks and months to
follow.
Those strong hands didn’t force nails through this one
out of anger.
They did it because that is what they did.
Orders given and orders followed.
‘And
when they had crucified him.’
Once the condemned man was hung upon the cross,
The soldiers did what they always did.
Divided the clothes among themselves, of the one soon to
die.
He wouldn’t need them after all.
This condemned man was no different to any other.
A thief, a murderer, a bandit, a rebel, a seditionist,
a traitor,
The empire crucified them all.
Simply condemned - not to make amends for their
transgressions,
But to keep the streets clean, to keep the peace,
To uphold the lore of Caesar,
And to keep the occupied territories in order.
‘And
when they had crucified him.’
How could they have known this man was any different,
From the ones who’d died before.
His claims had been more audacious,
And his rebellion fuelled by words and peaceful
actions,
Until sword blades swung and sung in the quiet garden at
his arrest.
So they’d mocked him, they’d beaten him, they’d spat
upon his brow,
They’d treated him with the same contempt as any
impostor king,
And now here he hung, another false idol, another
failed coup,
Another broken rebellion and another wasted life.....
‘And
when they had crucified him.’
To commemorate his folly and to indicate his crime they
hung the sign,
Above his bloodied head,
“This is Jesus, the King of the Jews” the homemade sign
read.
And that was that.
They hammered more nails into the quivering wrists,
And shaking ankles of two bandits, two rebels,
Who they crucified alongside him.
Then they sat down and watched.
Strong hands resting as the sun rose in the morning
sky.
By then, they had crucified him.
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