Good Friday 5: His feet

Jesus’ body was suspended in space. The soldiers slowly let his body descend, so the bar across his ripped shoulders lowers into place. His body would have sagged, with all the weight upon the two crude copper nails through his writs.

     He would probably have passed out with the pain. That’s why the executioners gave their victims wine in which myrrh had been dissolved. It acted as a crude painkiller. It’s not that they were kind or wanting to relieve Jesus’ pain. Quite the opposite: if the pain of crucifixion was too savage, the victim would die immediately of a heart attack. And where’s the sport in a short-lived spectacle; where’s the deterrence? You want to maximise the horror to inhibit anyone thinking of copying this would-be messiah.

     Jesus’ feet were nailed to the upright part of the cross. One foot was pushed on top of the other, almost at right angles. That action alone was enough to dislocate a hip. And then a single long nail driven through both ankles. There was probably a pre-drilled hole in the tree, to make it easier for the executioner: a foot of solid copper penetrating first one ankle then a second and, finally, fitting neatly into a socket in the wood.

     Some artists draw Jesus with his feet positioned on a small footrest. Not true. The footrest is the nail itself. To alleviate the pain in his wrists, Jesus would place his weight on the nail through his ankles. When the pain in his ankles was too appalling to bear for one second longer, Jesus would have relaxed his legs and taken the strain onto the nails through his shattered wrists. And then back and forth, shifting the pain every minute or two. It was designed to look barbaric and inspire absolute horror.

     Today as we watch Jesus being tortured to death, we are invited to have compassion — to share his passion. So we think about our own feet. Feet are the primary means of locomotion. We get to our location using our feet. Do they take into forbidden places or the places God tells us to frequent. Do they walk or press the accelerator in a polluting car? Are they the vehicle for sin or holiness, our own pleasure or the good of others (the two can be the same). Do our feet move us toward God or away from God? Do we use our feet to demonstrate our Christianity or contradict?

      As seek compassion, do we use our feet for good or to display selfishness?