During our work project yesterday, I found myself with a hammer and spike breaking up flooring to start one of our holes (see other team blogs). As I was kneeling there with the tools in my hand, it made me think of the Roman soldier whose job it was to nail the spikes into the wrists of crucifixion victims. I flinched as the spike struck the floor with a sharp sound. I wondered if the soldier flinched as his nail drove through the flesh of the condemned. This morning I feel the strain of a hard days work in my forearms and reflect on a job well done. I wonder if the soldier did the same, or if his nights were filled with the screams of those he pierced leaving him sleep deprived.
It was his job, he did it well. But what effects did it have on him?
This isn’t one of those blogs that have a spiritually satisfying conclusion. Just something I was thinking about.
