Jesus is Stripped of His Garments
For if men do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry? – Luke 23:31
The Romans crucified criminals naked.
Not only to punish, but to humiliate. It wasn’t just about execution — it was a spectacle. A warning. A statement of dominance. "You dare to defy us? You will lose everything — even your dignity."
The stripping of Jesus was not incidental. It was intentional.
And it was excruciating — not only physically, but emotionally and spiritually.
The Son of God, fully human, stood exposed to the gaze of mocking soldiers and watching crowds. This was shame in its rawest form.
We rarely depict this moment as it truly happened. In most artwork, Jesus is mercifully shown with a covering — and understandably so. To portray Him otherwise feels irreverent, even unthinkable.
And yet the true scandal of the cross is not found in how we portray Jesus, but in what He was willing to endure:
He was stripped, not only of clothing, but of every protection from shame.
He stood in the open — vulnerable, rejected, wounded — not just before men, but before God, as our representative and substitute. He bore our shame, so that we might be clothed in His righteousness.
Not only to punish, but to humiliate. It wasn’t just about execution — it was a spectacle. A warning. A statement of dominance. "You dare to defy us? You will lose everything — even your dignity."
The stripping of Jesus was not incidental. It was intentional.
And it was excruciating — not only physically, but emotionally and spiritually.
The Son of God, fully human, stood exposed to the gaze of mocking soldiers and watching crowds. This was shame in its rawest form.
We rarely depict this moment as it truly happened. In most artwork, Jesus is mercifully shown with a covering — and understandably so. To portray Him otherwise feels irreverent, even unthinkable.
And yet the true scandal of the cross is not found in how we portray Jesus, but in what He was willing to endure:
He was stripped, not only of clothing, but of every protection from shame.
He stood in the open — vulnerable, rejected, wounded — not just before men, but before God, as our representative and substitute. He bore our shame, so that we might be clothed in His righteousness.