The final nail for Jesus Christ went through the feet. Roman soldiers heard tell of the water walking and the disappearing into crowds to escape capture when his preaching riled temple authorities.  Some must’ve made jokes.

They taunted Jesus, tossed lots for garments, we know the story. The crowds had called for his public execution, Pontius Pilate appeased them with crucifixion and all the way up Calvary everyone jeered.

Took a group minimum of three or four soldiers to walk with each one being executed, stand him back up when he stumbles, keep the crowd a reasonable distance away. Then to position the body, but only one to hold the nail and the hammer. Once affixed, they raise the cross. Team crucifixion.

When men inflict cruelty, especially soldiers following orders, the job requires professionalism. Some men reach this state silently. Their minds as precise as machinery. Others verbalize thoughts, convincing themselves of the righteousness of cause.

The crowd is shouting their ridicule – aside from the fact that many felt implying you’re the foretold Messiah was by law punishable by death – public executions were popular events throughout history and still occur in some countries, attracting droves.

Who can resist the thrill of enthusiasm. Finally, after years of being hated oppressors, local residents were on the soldier’s side. Feeling welcomed was exhilarating, insulting the victim a way to return the acknowledgement. Caesar wants all subjects to enjoy the pain of the judged guilty.

Two ways to joke. One was joining with the crowd, which only egged them on. You taunt and ridicule. You did this to yourself, King of the Jews. Some monarch, weak and bleeding. The other, sadistic humor. Take that, bet that hurts, those thorns still pinching?  See me laugh at your pain. Winners quip as losers die.

The man with the hammer and spikes, he just follows fate, stays task-focused. After the feet, he assists in lifting high the cross, quiet all the way through. Don’t think, do.