They had just led Jesus up Calvary’s rugged hill as He carried our rugged cross. They threw Him down on the cross so Roman soldiers could nail His healing hands to the cross—hands that once cleansed lepers. Then, they moved and nailed His feet, the same feet that walked on water to save scared to death disciples in the middle of Hurricane Hezekiah. They nailed His feet to the cross.
And once they were satisfied He was secure, they hoisted Him up until the cross fell soundly into the ground. For these Roman soldiers, this was just another day, another denarius. They had clocked in at dawn and would clock out at dusk, head home for the weekend, grill a few burgers, and start all over again next week.