Abstract
Contemporary scholarly reference to the subject of crucifixion in the ancient world is typically dominated by the figure of the crucified Christ, and within such discourse it is the christological or theological ramifications of the cross that normally predominate. But such perspectives, whilst perfectly valid, have at the same time left a lacuna in understanding crucifixion holistically within its first-century environment (and so within the social world of the nascent Christ-movement). For little recourse has been made to the dynamics of honor and shame, which played such a vital part of social life within the ancient world. This article examines crucifixion from such a perspective, paying particular attention to the ignominy and revulsion of being put to death in the manner of a slave. It also offers insight into crucifixion from a Judean context, and does so within the framework of the Deuteronomic curse (Deut 21:23; Gal 3:13), which traditional interpretations maintain was said to fall upon the crucified victim. In so doing, the article makes a response to Paula Fredrikson, who claims that the curse does not apply ipso facto from the physical act of crucifixion, but is ascribed to the victim for the crime(s) committed.
The cross stands at the heart of the writing and theology of the New Testament. Indeed, the cross of Christ has remained the focal point of Christian symbolism throughout the history of Christianity and, quite rightly, the predominant studies and evaluations of the language of the cross have been of a theological nature (see esp. Bultmann; Kasemann; Cousar). But there is also a vital social evaluation to be made of such language. The aim here is to examine the wider cultural context of crucifixion in order to discern most fully the concomitant “psychological” perception to the language of the cross. By doing so it is hoped that this may further inform a nuanced perspective of crucifixion within the social world of the New Testament (see further, Barton; Theissen; Pickett).
Crucifixion under the Romans
Descriptions of crucifixion are rare in antiquity. Members of the cultured literary elite were hesitant to dwell on such a horrific and brutal act and the deep social antipathy towards it precluded, for the most part, any mention on inscriptions or in the works of Greek and Roman historians. Though information is scant, certain Latin texts do provide information regarding the detail and procedure of crucifixion and, collectively, provide more information than the literature of any other ancient culture (see Hengel: 33–38; Brown: 947; Samuelsson).
It appears that the origins of Roman crucifixion go back to early Rome, when it was used as a penalty for incest and treason. By the time of the first-century
Essentially, crucifixion, as the most severe punishment, was an instrument of both execution and humiliation and its very nature as a degrading public spectacle was employed by the state as an overt instrument of fear. Quintillian (c. 35–95
Roman crucifixion was inflicted upon a number of different people groups: the lower classes (the peregrine); the inhabitants of foreign provinces; and those considered most threatening to the state and its internal interests (especially for treasonable offences considered potentially dangerous to state security). It was also used to break the will of conquered peoples, and to wear down rebellious cities under siege. Dangerous and violent robbers and murderers could be crucified—often near or at the scene of their crimes. But the Romans used crucifixion above all as the servile supplicium (“the slaves' punishment”), and this was a precedent that was set perhaps as early as the third century
By the time of the late Republic and early Empire, slaves were treated with such contempt that a slave owner had the right to scourge and crucify his slaves almost at will. Horace (65–8
Since crucifixion was associated with the lower classes, especially slaves, the Romans refrained, under most circumstances, from crucifying Roman citizens, considering it too shameful and ignominious a death. But this was not without precedent. In one of his speeches against Gaius Verres (the notoriously corrupt proconsul of Sicily, 73–71
… that Italy might see her son, as he hung there, suffer the worst extreme [extremo] of the tortures [supplicio] inflicted upon slaves. To bind a Roman citizen is a crime, to flog him an abomination, to slay him is almost an act of murder: to crucify him is—what? There is no fitting word that can possibly describe so horrible a deed [Against Verres 2.5.169–70].
Equally, in 63
The Shame of Crucifixion
It would appear from the writings of many Greek and Latin authors, i.e. in the perspective of the cultural elite, that the horror and disgust of crucifixion lay as much in the public shame that was involved more than the physical torture itself. In addition to the many humiliating aspects that this form of punishment employed, the primary reason for this would appear to be the immeasurable dishonor which lay in its association with that of a slave and of the utter shame that such an association would bring. As noted above, crucifixion was, after all, the slave's death. Even as early as the writing of the Greek historian Polybius (c. 200—after 118 bce) it is the humiliation of crucifixion that comes to the fore. Polybius writes of the death of one Achaeus, whose body was mutilated, his extremities severed, and his head cut off and sewn up in an ass's skin. But the narrative then surprisingly details that the body was subsequently crucified. As this final action was obviously disconnected to any concerns for physical torture or capital punishment it would appear to demonstrate that, psychologically, crucifixion was a prerequisite in the final and total humiliation and degradation of an enemy (History 8.21.3; cf. Gen 40:19; 2 Sam 4:12).
As a warning to other potential offenders, crucifixion was a highly public execution. Certainly, the Roman procedure for crucifixion was more efficient and routinized than elsewhere. The victim was publicly scourged with the flagellum (a whip with leather thongs) immediately prior to condemnation (or at the site of the crucifixion), and after his legal conviction it was the custom for him to be handed over to a four-man execution squad who would parade the convict through the streets to the site of crucifixion (see Cohn; Zias & Sekeles; Green). He would bear a sign detailing the reason for the execution and was compelled to carry the cross-beam (patibulum) to the designated site. The place of execution was normally in a public place outside a town or city where the victim was easily visible to passers-by. There, he was stripped of all his clothing and crucified naked. (Although in Greco-Roman thought nakedness was not considered shameful in and of itself, the humiliation involved in this context involves a reaction towards the total loss of power of the sufferer; see Williams: 219–23.)
The victim was fastened to the cross-beam with nails and/or cords, and the beam was then drawn up by ropes until the feet were clear of the ground. The crux humilis, “low cross,” raised the body ten to eighteen inches above the ground, while the crux sublimis, “high cross,” raised it three feet. The low cross would have been used more for common criminals so that they could more easily be devoured by wild animals (Rousseau & Arav: 75). Some support for the body was provided by a ledge (sedile) which projected from the upright, and the feet were sometimes tied or nailed (Haas; Strange: 199–200; Fitzmyer 1978; Kuhn). Whilst affixed to the cross, the victim might be the object of taunts and indignities from passers-by, and, according to Seneca, executioners could vary the form of crucifixion, further adding to the humiliation that this form of punishment brought:
Yonder I see instruments of torture [cruces], not indeed of a single kind, but differently contrived by different peoples; some hang their victims with head toward the ground, some impale their private parts, others stretch out their arms on a fork-shaped gibbet; I see cords, I see scourges, and for each separate limb and each joint there is a separate engine of torture! [Marcellus 20.3; cf. Matt 27:39–44; Mark 15:29–32; Luke 23:35–39].
Nero's persecution of Christ-followers in Rome exemplified a similar cruelty, and the New Testament expression “to bear the cross” was thus a symbolic description of the horrendous punishment typical for a slave, rebel, or those considered the lowest of society (Tacitus, Annals 15.44; Brandenburger: 392; J. B. Torrance: 253).
Death by crucifixion could be slow or swift, depending upon a variety of factors: the victim's physical constitution, prior sleep deprivation, degree of torture, and whether the arms were nailed rather than tied. But, irrespective of time, since crucifixion damaged no vital organs, death would come after extraordinary agony. The exact cause or causes of death in the crucifixion process have been disputed over the past century, but may be a combination of asphyxiation/suffocation and hypovolemic shock (see Zugibe; Hanson & Oakman: 92). Death was sometimes hastened by crurifragium (the breaking of the legs), but otherwise the healthiest victims may have remained on the cross for days. The victim's disgrace was compounded by his nakedness, his bodily defecation, and the fact that wild beasts (wolves, bears, lions) or birds may have attacked the victim at vital parts of the body (Lucan, Civil War 6.545–53; Juvenal, Satires 8.188).
The dead body was frequently left unburied and normally remained on the cross until it was completely devoured by rats or vultures (Juvenal, Satires 14.77f.; Horace, Epistles 1.16.46–48; cf. Gen 40:19). Judeans were sometimes allowed to remove and bury the corpses of crucified friends and relatives (Philo, Against Flaccus 82–85). Seneca, writing to Lucilius (Epistle 101), argues that it is better to commit suicide than face such extreme and drawn-out suffering as death by crucifixion. The utter disgrace of crucifixion prompted Cicero to speak of the “tree of shame” (In Defence of Rabirius 4.13), and encouraged Celsus to dismiss derisively the redemptive role of Christ, who had been “bound in the most ignominious fashion” and “executed in a shameful way” (Origen, Against Celsus 6.10). Equally, Trypho challenges Justin: “Prove to us that he [the Messiah] had to be crucified and had to die such a shameful and dishonorable death, cursed by the law. We could not even consider such a thing” (Dialogue 90.1; cf. 32.1; 89.2).
In Judean thought nudity was relentlessly censured. The male genitalia were frequently denoted by the euphemism “shame” (in such phrases as “he covered his shame,” Jubilees 3:27, 30; cf. Isa 58:7; Ezek 16:22, 35–39; Job 26:6), and Paul, too, spoke of the “shameful” parts of the body, meaning the sexual organs (1 Cor 12:23). Josephus spoke of the dishonor that accrued if one's private parts were allowed to “offend the rays of the deity” (Josephus, War 2. 148f), and at Qumran a censure was placed on a man who allowed “‘the hand’ [i.e. the penis] to protrude from beneath the garment … and reveal his nakedness” (1QS 7:13–14). In Judean propaganda, although a man's circumcised penis may be called his “glory” (Phil 3:19; Hawthorne: 166–67 and cf. Gal 6:13), he was shamed if stripped of his clothes by an aggressor and his penis displayed (see Acts 19:16). Hence, those prisoners who were stripped naked before scourging and crucified naked in public places, suffered as much from the shame of involuntary nakedness as from the lash (4 Macc 6:2; Matt 27:28, 31; cf. Neyrey). In Palestine especially, crucifixion was a public reminder of Judean servitude to a foreign power, and was thus a sign and demonstration of extreme national humiliation (Heb 12:2).
Crucifixion from a Judean Perspective
Within the general purview of the Hebrew Bible, the crucifixion of live criminals by Judeans does not appear to be evident. Execution was normally by stoning (Lev 20:2; Num 15:35–36; Deut 13:9; Josh 7:25; 1 Kgs 21:13), by burning (Gen 38:24; Lev 20:14; 21:9; Num 16:35), or by the sword (Deut 13:15; Exod 32:27; Josh 10:26; 2 Sam 18:14ff). The few unambiguous accounts of crucifixion detailed in the Hebrew Bible are those of dead convicts, for it appears that crucifixion was employed more as a sign of disgrace, as well as a very visible public warning against criminal activity. (Such bodies were impaled on a tree—Deut 21:22f; Josh 10:26; 2 Sam 4:12, a procedure which may have derived from Egyptian usage, Gen 40:18.) The Septuagint does contain the possibility of live crucifixion in a small number of texts, but exegesis of these does not permit an unambiguous interpretation (see Cohn; Chapman). Hence, one could reasonably suggest that ancient Israel did not make use of the cross as a means of torture or execution (Brandenburger: 393); more typically, execution was by stoning, by burning, or by the sword.
The earliest use of live crucifixion against Judeans appears in the accounts by Josephus of the reign of the Syrian king Antiochus IV Epiphanes (reigned 175–164
During the New Testament period the crucifixion of Judeans at the hands of the Romans became widespread—Rome believed that the maintenance of law and or der in what was considered a troubled land was incumbent upon a strict military regime. Indeed, over the period 4
The worst excesses of Judean crucifixion came during the period of the first Jewish war. Prior to its outbreak in 66
Crucifixion and the Deuteronomic Curse
Traditional interpretation of crucifixion from a Judean perspective has considered the hanging or impaling of a body upon a tree or cross to be particularly repugnant, for this very act was seen as sanctioning a divine curse from Yahweh (Deut 21:23; Gal 3:13; Bruce: 164–66; Martyn: 318; Jervis: 91; Longenecker: 142). Consequently, the crucified body had to be removed and buried before nightfall lest the land be polluted and defiled (Josh 8:29, 10:26; John 19:31). More recently, however, doubt has been placed on such a perspective by Paula Fredriksen, who claims that the curse was not a corollary of crucifixion per se but came upon the individual as a result of the crimes committed (and for which he was originally executed). Hence, the hanging itself was not the reason for the curse. Within a wider perspective, Fredriksen makes two similar points: the curse mentioned in the Dead Sea Scrolls (11QT 64:6–13), which falls upon one who is executed by hanging/crucifixion for betrayal of the community, comes as a result of the specific crime, not for the mode of execution; and the curse falling upon the impaled or crucified Haman in Esther is for his insidious role in the story and not because of the manner of his death. Fredriksen also points to the numerous incidents of crucifixion described by Josephus, none of which carry any mention of a curse, and claims that a Judean crucified under the imperialistic might of Rome would appear to his contemporaries “more like a fallen hero” (552). Fredriksen concludes by asserting that “Nothing in first-century Judaism … seems to require that a crucified man ipso facto be seen as cursed of God, and we have no evidence of Jews having done so” (552). Because of the import of the traditional perspective of the Deuteronomic curse upon Pauline theology, Fredriksen's suggestion requires suitable analysis.
The Hebrew text of Deut 21:23 (qllt'lhym “the curse of God;” RSV: “accursed by God”) is ambiguous, for the phrase could be interpreted as understanding 'lhym as subject, i.e. God does the cursing (so, Targum Neofiti; Vulgate; 11QT6:12), or as object, i.e. someone cursing God (so, Syriac; Targum Onkelos.; mishna Sanhedrin 6.4; Sifre Deut 221: 254). Some translations remain ambiguous (cf. Targum Pseudo-Jonathan). The Septuagint clarifies the Masoretic Text by interpreting the phrase as “everyone hung upon a tree is accursed by God” (Wevers: 347; cf. Wilcox: 29ff). But uncertainty remains, for it is indeterminate where the precise point lies at which the divine curse is imposed. Does the text claim that the criminal is accursed by God for the crime committed (so, Fredriksen), or that impaling/crucifixion per se brings the curse (or, indeed, that it may even be a combination of the two)?
The problem for exegetes is that the Deuteronomic text is the only point within the Hebrew Bible where the conjunction of divine curse, capital crime, and hanging/impaling occurs. And within a wider purview of curse and crucifixion in the first-century
An additional observation involves Christ's crucifixion itself. If Paul, in his post-conversion state, believed that Christ was crucified as Messiah, the corollary must be that he was convicted unfairly and crucified as an innocent man (Dunn: 209–10). Prov 26:2 (“Like a fluttering sparrow or a darting swallow, an undeserved curse does not come to rest”) would appear to be pertinent in this context but appears to have been overlooked by all, despite the fact that Paul is obviously conversant with this section of Proverbs (cf. Prov 24:12/Rom 2:6; Prov 25:21–22/Rom 12:20). The Proverb may also show an allusion to Deuteronomy 23:5, and in the context of Proverbs 25:27–26:2, replete with honor terminology, the curse may allude to its converse, that of shame. For the apostle to then insist upon the Deuteronomic curse falling upon the crucified Christ (Gal 3:13), implies that Paul believes this to derive ipso facto from the crucifixion. Similarly, a concern of the disciples after Jesus' death was the removal of the body before sunset in accordance with the directive of Deuteronomy 21, for impalement/hanging constituted a polluting of the land, which in the Hebrew Bible normally derived from a divine curse (Gen 3:17; 4:11f; 5:29; 8:21; Deut 28:18ff; Job 24:18; Ps 106:38; Isa 24:6; Jer 23:10; Zech 5:3; Mal 4:6). The only texts referring to the pollution/desecration of the land independent of the divine curse are found in Numbers 35:33; Ezra 9:11; and Ezekiel 39:12ff. If the disciples believed in the innocence (messiahship aside) of Jesus, then the polluting of the land must arise from the curse attached to the crucifixion itself. Consequently, there are numerous subtleties and complexities here, with which Fredriksen does not engage and which need to be more adequately addressed.
Fredriksen's proposition that the cursing of Haman in the story of Esther is due to his guileful role and not to his subsequent hanging/crucifixion is somewhat anomalous and will not be covered in depth. Neither the Masoretic Text nor the Septuagint uses the terminology of “cursing” (or its cognates) towards Haman for his deceitful political machinations; there is no mention of Haman being cursed in Josephus (who gives a narration of the entire story of Esther); and mishna Megillah (4.1–7) makes no reference to Haman, even though the concern of the tractate is with the correct reading of Esther and the citing of benedictions which accompany it (cf. 3.6 on blessings and curses). The earliest extant references to the cursing of Haman appear in Esther Rabba 10.9 (second-century
It is without doubt that the Judeans who were put to death for their ancestral traditions under the tyranny of various oppressors were construed as the great heroes of the Judean faith. This is most perspicuous in the Second Temple literature dealing with the Hasmonean period where the works of 2 Maccabees 6–7 and 4 Maccabees 5–18, in particular, detail graphic evidence, albeit markedly polemical, of the horrendous manner in which certain Judean martyrs supposedly suffered and died. These texts also present such Judeans as having died with great honor (2 Macc 6:19, 23, 31; 7:20, 40; 4 Macc 5:35–36; 6:30; cf. 1 Macc 2:49–52, 64). Fredriksen is certainly correct in suggesting that such martyrs were seen as fallen heroes and the narratives may have been conducive to the war of social attrition between Judeans and Gentiles. However, in all of the accounts which specify a particular method of punishment and death, none come by means of crucifixion—the mention of this form of punishment is singularly absent from all of these texts.
Equally, in a comparison of parallel accounts between Josephus and 1 and 2 Maccabees, of the proscription of Judean traditions by Antiochus IV Epiphanes in 167
… they were whipped, their bodies were mutilated, and while still alive and breathing, they were crucified while their wives and the sons whom they had circumcised in despite of the king's wishes were strangled, the children being made to hang from the necks of their crucified parents [Antiquities 12.256].
The parallel account in 1 Maccabees, however is ambiguous on the form of punishment employed:
… they put to death the women who had their children circumcised, and their families and those who circumcised them; and they hung the infants from their mothers' necks. But many in Israel stood firm and were resolved in their hearts not to eat unclean food. They chose to die rather than to be defiled by food or to profane the holy covenant; and they did die [1 Macc 1.60–62].
Here, of those put to death, it is the infants alone who are killed in a way specified by the author (death by hanging). The women, their families, and the “many in Israel” are killed in ways undisclosed to the reader. It is also of interest that, in the wider context, the martyrological or honor-based terminology employed elsewhere (noted above) is markedly absent. Indeed, the account is concluded, simply, by the phrase, “Very great wrath came upon Israel” (1 Macc 1.63).
In 2 Maccabees a slightly different account is presented (perhaps of a single specific incident):
…two women were brought in for having circumcised their children. They publicly paraded them around the city, with their babies hanging at their breasts, and then hurled them down headlong from the wall. Others who had assembled in the caves nearby, in order to observe the seventh day secretly, were betrayed … [and] all burned together … [2 Macc 6.10–11].
In this text, the punishment for the women is specified as casting down; while death by burning is employed for those Judeans who keep the Sabbath (the babies are possibly killed by hanging—cf. Bauer: 450). Once again, martyr/hero language is absent, and the author's conclusion is simply, “Now I urge those who read this book not to be depressed by such calamities” (2 Macc 6:10–12).
The comparison among the three texts is striking. Josephus presents the use of crucifixion for faithful Judeans, whereas the other accounts, although detailing death by a variety of other means, preclude any mention of crucifixion and omit any reference to such deaths being construed as those of martyrs/heroes. The context of the passage of 2 Maccabees 6:10–12 is of particular interest, for it stands as a prelude to the deaths of Eleazar (6:18–31) and others (7:1–42), all of which are narrated in martyr/hero terminology, but none of whom die by crucifixion. If Fredriksen's thesis were correct, one would surmise that all of the accounts in 2 Maccabees would be treated in a similar way; that is, extolling the virtues and determination of the fallen heroes as examples to be emulated. That they are not, and that they contain striking differences may lead one to assume that the author of 2 Maccabees and the authors of the other works are unprepared to use martyrological language for those faithful Judeans killed by crucifixion. If so, then death by crucifixion may not have been seen positively as a symbol of Judean resistance and it was to be distinguished from all other forms of punishment.
Martin Hengel's analysis as to whether there is any evidence in the ancient Roman world for a non-Christian positive interpretation of death by crucifixion (as in the case of a national martyr or philosopher) leads him to the conclusion that there was not. He writes, “I have not been able to discover a real historical instance … the imagery of crucifixion left no room for a positive interpretation, apart from the admonition which was widespread in antiquity, that each man had to bear his own fate; here too the metaphor was one of horror and abomination” (64, 67–68). Further, he claims,
Deuteronomy 21.23 evidently made it difficult to turn a crucified man into a religious figure or a hero. For that very reason, Paul describes his message in 1 Cor 1.17, with polemical accentuation, as … [the word of the cross]; in it he means to proclaim none other than … the crucified Messiah (1.23; cf. 2.2; Gal 3.1), who was a religious scandal to the Jews and a delusion to the Greeks [44].
This is contrary to a number of statements made in a recent monograph by Pickett, who writes:
The idea of heroic, voluntary and vicarious sacrificial death for the common good was familiar to the whole Greco-Roman world, and so would have served as a frame of reference for many of Paul's statements about the significance of Christ's death [18].
Pickett goes on to say that
this ideal also finds expression in the martyr theology of 4 Maccabees. One of the advantages of reading Paul's commentaries on the death of Jesus through this historical-cultural lens is that it focuses on how his audience might have apprehended what he wrote [19].
As shown above, death by crucifixion would never be seen in such a positive light.
Fredriksen's point regarding Josephus is an argument from silence and cannot be used to validate her thesis. More usefully, however, one may attempt to ascertain what Josephus recognized as the perception of crucifixion in the minds of Judeans, and one text in particular, allows an interesting perspective on this. After the capture of Jerusalem in 70
The general having ordered him [Eleazar] to be stripped and carried to the spot most exposed to the view of the onlookers in the city and there severely scourged, the Jews were profoundly affected by the lad's fate, and the whole town burst into such wailing and lamentation as the misfortune of a mere individual seemed hardly to justify. Observing this, Bassus proceeded to intensify their distress as to compel them to purchase the man's life by the surrender of the fort; and in this hope he was not disappointed. For he ordered a cross to be erected, as though intending to have Eleazar instantly suspended; at which sight those in the fortress were seized with deeper dismay and with piercing shrieks exclaimed that the tragedy was intolerable. At this juncture, moreover, Eleazar besought them not to leave him to undergo the most pitiable of deaths, but to consult their own safety by yielding to the might and fortune of the Romans … [War 7.200–203].
The text is illuminating. It demonstrates the repugnance and horror felt by both the Judean rebels within the city and Eleazar himself towards the impending crucifixion, and it also demonstrates that the Roman general knew this to be the case. On Fredriksen's thesis one may have expected the rebels to have simply refused to surrender the city and, after Eleazar's subsequent crucifixion, to elevate his status into one of martyr/hero. But the opposite is true. Hence, once again, it appears that the cross was not seen positively as a symbol of Judean resistance, and that this was a perception known by the Romans and, perhaps, other Gentiles. Certainly, the peremptory removal and burial of crucified victims before sunset was a Judean tradition well established by the first-century
But the one whom you call Christ was without glory and honor to such an extent that he incurred the last curse of God's law, namely, he was crucified [Dialogue 32.1].
But we doubt whether the Christ should be so shamefully crucified, for the Law declares that he who is crucified is to be accursed [Dialogue 89.2].
There is, too, the text under contention: Paul's remark to the Galatians (Gal 3:13), “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law, having become a curse for us—for it is written, ‘Cursed be everyone who hangs on a tree.’” On this, Georgi (120) writes,
Galatians 3:13 speaks of Jesus' becoming accursed. It is not concerned with the subjective guilt or innocence of the Nazarene. The law Paul cites in this verse curses everyone who hangs on a tree—including Jesus—quite objectively. Personal innocence does nothing to mitigate this curse, as Paul states even more radically in 2 Cor 5:21: God makes Jesus, who is subjectively innocent, not only a sinful individual but identifies him with sin itself.
Likewise, Hengel notes,
… Jews would inevitably understand talk of a crucified Messiah as blasphemy, because of Deut. 21.23. The Messiah of Israel could never ever at the same time be the one who according to the words of the Torah was accursed by God. It was perhaps for this very reason that the leaders of the people had pressed for the execution of Jesus by crucifixion. This was the most obvious way to refute his messianic claim [43].
In sum, Fredriksen presents little substantive evidence for her thesis and does not engage sufficiently enough with the primary texts presented above. There is simply no indication, either in Josephus or in Second Temple literature, that demonstrates that the concept of Judean martyrology applies to those faithful Judeans executed by crucifixion. Rather, it is the sheer horror of the cross that comes to the fore and that precludes any premise of linking it to martyr/hero terminology. Hence, the cumulative evidence of these texts appears to suggest that Fredriksen's basic supposition is incorrect and that the proposition which fits best the evidence is one in which the dimension of the divine curse falling ipso facto upon the crucified holds.
Conclusion
This article has demonstrated the antipathy and social revulsion towards crucifixion. It was considered the most abhorrent method of execution known—an instrument of supreme humiliation, torture, and death. Yet, although many writers recognized that crucifixion was an atrociously cruel form of execution, most simply took it for granted that it was a necessary deterrent to ensure the stability of the Empire. Equally, it was regarded by the Romans, above all, as the servile supplicium, a stark reminder for the humiliores of their ultimate fate should they choose to forget or ignore their social status in life, or make any attempt to undermine the pax Romana (the peace of Rome). But within the categories of honor and shame, crucifixion was also an instrument of unqualified degradation. The stripping naked of the victim, the public spectacle of a slow physical torture to the point of death, the bodily defecation, and the mutilation and devouring of the body by wild animals, were all part of the total and absolute shame imposed upon the victim—all of which would appear to be the primary category of social revulsion. The above texts, which, it must be remembered, present a perception of crucifixion from the view of the cultural elite, say very little of the physical pain of crucifixion but focus, instead, upon the psychological terror and utter humiliation of being publicly put to death in a manner associated with a slave. For many, even the mention of crucifixion or the cross may well have been offensive. To mention the cross regularly, as, for example, the apostle Paul does, and to envisage it as the instrument of God's glory would perhaps have sounded monstrous and detestable.
It is difficult with an encrustation of two thousand years of Christian cross-centred theology to perceive the disgust of Paul's proclamation of the cross to his first-century audience. But such a proposition was so offensive and preposterous as to invite outrage and persecution. And, of course from a Judean perspective the disgust with crucifixion was compounded further by the fact that the crucified had the horror of falling under a divine curse. In short, within a first-century
