A few days ago I had the misfortune of drilling a philips drill bit 5/8 of an inch into my hand. If you want this unusual sensation but do not have a drill, just jab and twist a #2 pencil deep into your hand and you will get the idea. There was some good fortune, though. I had some germicide hand lotion with me, my friend had a very small band aid, and my hand did not bleed much. I did not know they make band aids that little, but it was a welcomed little aid. Back to work. Let the throbbing begin.
Since that accident, I was thinking about Jesus’ being nailed to the cross. Difficult to imagine the pain and agony. He had already been mercilessly and mockingly flogged with the destructive cat of nine tails whip. A number of people punished this way actually died from the flogging alone.
Perhaps you have read the medical doctor’s account of the suffering of Jesus during the crucifixion ordeal. It is quite graphic, explanatory, and stunning. Preachers and poets have written and spoken dramatically in an attempt to describe the awfulness of agony. Words fall far short of being able to truly describe the horror and pain that Jesus endured.
But, strangely, the physical suffering was not the worst part of the crucifixion. The mysterious act of Jesus’ bearing our sins in His body was the most tortuous part of suffering. The pure and holy lamb of God who had never sinned became sin. Dark, ugly, filthy, sewage sin. All sin. Every kind of sin. Yours. Mine. Everyone’s. No wonder He said, “…If there is another way, let this cup pass from me.” But there was no other way.
The crucifixion might be beyond comprehension, but it is not beyond our grasp nor our gratitude. What a gift!
(What kind of nails were they? Surprise---> They were FINISHING nails.)
