The Beating Of Jesus

Let’s talk about the beating of Jesus.

Not the soft version many people imagine.

The real one.

Because the cross did not start at Calvary.

The suffering began long before the nails ever touched His hands.

When Jesus was handed over to be crucified, the Roman soldiers first scourged Him.

This was not a simple whipping.

The Romans used a weapon called a flagrum or flagellum. It was a whip with multiple leather strands. At the end of each strand were pieces of bone, metal, and sharp hooks designed to tear flesh.

The purpose was not just punishment.

It was destruction of the body.

The victim was tied to a post, stretched so the back was exposed. Each strike caused the metal and bone to dig into the skin. When the whip was pulled back, it ripped flesh away from the body.

Early historians and medical researchers describe that Roman scourging often exposed muscle tissue and sometimes even bone.

Isaiah prophesied this hundreds of years before it happened.

Isaiah 52:14 says

“His appearance was so disfigured beyond that of any human being.”

Think about that.

He Chose The Nails

Come with me to the hill of Calvary. Watch as the soldiers shove the carpenter to the ground and stretch his arms against the beams. One presses a knee against a forearm and a spike against a hand. Jesus turns his face toward the nail just as the soldier lifts the hammer to strike it. Couldn't Jesus have stopped him? With a flex of the biceps, with a clench of the fist, he could have resisted. Is this not the same hand that stilled the sea? Summoned the dead?

But the fist doesn't clench...and the moment isn't aborted.

The mallet rings and the skin rips and the blood begins to drip, then rush. Then the questions follow. Why? Why didn't Jesus resist?

"Because he loved us," we reply That is true, wonderfully true, but - forgive me - only partially true. There is more to his reason. He saw something that made him stay. As the soldier pressed his arm, Jesus rolled his head to the side, and with his cheek resting on the wood, he saw:

A mallet? Yes.

A nail? Yes.

The soldier's hand? Yes.

But he saw something else. He saw the hand of God. It appeared to be the hand of a man. Long fingers of a woodworker. Callous palms of a carpenter. It appeared common. It was, however, anything but. Between his hand and the wood, there was a list. A long list of our mistakes: our lusts and lies and greedy moments and prodigal years. A list of our sins.

The bad decisions last year. The bad attitudes from last week. There, in broad daylight for all of heaven to see, was a list of your mistakes.

He saw the list! He knew the price of those sins was death. He knew the source of those sins was you, and since he couldn't bear the thought of eternity without you, he chose the nails.

- An Excerpt from "He Chose The Nails" by Max Lucado