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STUDENT POST: The Day I Crucified Jesus

Editor’s note: This post is part of a series featuring outstanding excerpts from student papers at the BibleMesh Institute, which offers affordable online training for local churches, schools, and ministries. The author’s name has been withheld for privacy and security purposes. She is preparing to serve as a missionary overseas.

The crucifixion has been discussed and pondered for much of history. Oftentimes the narrative is told from the perspective of the disciples or from Jesus. Since those perspectives are more familiar, this recounting will be told from the perspective of a Roman soldier.

I was a soldier in the Roman army back then. That day started out like any other. I had just finished with a prisoner when they brought him to me. As my men cleaned the blood up from the previous prisoner, I looked up and down this man. He had been sentenced to death by flogging and crucifixion. I wondered what he had done. Crucifixion was reserved for only the worst of prisoners. They called him a king, but he didn’t really look like one. I prepared myself for the insults to come as I rolled up my sleeves. I had gotten used to prisoners yelling and screaming all sorts of things, but he didn’t say a word. We stripped his clothes and I started. One, two, three. The whip we used had three leather ropes. Along each rope were sharp metal pieces that would dig into the skin to rip flesh out. I stopped after about 30 or so. I wasn’t supposed to kill him, but to leave him barely alive so that he could actually suffer the crucifixion itself. I stood back to take a break and let my men have their go at him. They spit on him, mocked him, even made a crown for him out of thorns, pressing it into his head so that even more blood trickled down his face.

I looked at him. He was unrecognizable and quite hideous. His blood covered the floor, and he could barely stand. I waited for a word from him, almost wanted a word, just to put up a fight. I mean, come on, you’re supposed to be a king! And still, he was silent. I thought for a split second, this man doesn’t seem to line up with what these people are saying – rebel, of the devil. Did he really do anything at all to deserve this? My soldiers found a purple robe to put on him, and we set on our way to Golgotha, where he was to be crucified. The prisoner could barely carry his cross and fell almost every couple steps. At this rate, it would be sundown before we got there. We grabbed a guy from the crowd and made him carry it instead. We finally got there and immediately went to work.

Generally, when you crucify a man, the first hand is the most difficult. The criminal wants to get away, fight you, so I would have two soldiers hold him down. But again, he didn’t put up a fight. I thought maybe he was just exhausted. Then he looked at me, and I’ll never forget this, but he said, Father forgive them, they don’t know what they’re doing. He forgave me. He doesn’t even know me. I was the person crucifying him. Why would he say that? And I won’t forget his eyes either. There was no hatred in them at all, but deep sadness, and still, a gentleness as he said those words, like a father speaking to his son. I stepped away; I couldn’t finish. I had my men hammer the rest of the nails through his other hand and feet. And they raised him.

I looked up at him and watched him pull himself up and down, gasping for breath. I knew then, this man did not deserve this punishment, this death. But it seemed he had done so willingly, didn’t put up a fight at all. But why? Then all of a sudden, it went completely dark. Like, night came early. I immediately looked back up at this Jesus and heard him speak for the last time. “It is finished.” And then he died. And again, immediately, the ground started shaking. Rocks started splitting open. And then I knew. Oh, this was no ordinary man. Surely, this Jesus was the son of God.[1]

Theological Significance

In Genesis 3, in what has come to be known as the First Gospel, God foretold the One who would come to conquer the evil one and save humanity. Thousands of years later, Jesus fulfilled this and many other prophecies concerning this great salvation. Jesus was a perfect man; yet He died a sinner’s death willingly. On the other hand, we, like the Roman soldier we just heard from, are sinful, broken people, deserving of a sinner’s death. However, God, in His love for us, did not want us to die but desired us to be with Him forever. However, He is also a just God, and sin must be punished. This is how Jesus came into the picture. He chose to die, taking all of God’s just punishment and wrath, so that we did not have to die. Instead, if we trust in Jesus, His righteousness is placed on us, so that we can become clean and perfect in God’s eyes. This is the reason Jesus had to die.[2]

[1] Jn 19:1-3, 16-18, 30; Lk 23:26; Lk 22:63; Mk 15:16-22, 39

[2] Jared M. August, “The Messianic Hope of Genesis: The Protoevangelium and Patriarchal Promises,” ed. The Gospel Coalition, Themelios 42, no. 1 (April 2017): 46–62, accessed January 6, 2022, https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/themelios/article/the-messianic-hope-of-genesis-the-protoevangelium-and-patriarchal-promises.