At this moment, we meditate on three nails — sharp, cold, and cruel — fixed into flesh to fasten the Son of God to splintered beams of wood. 
 
It’s easy to imagine that the brutality of crucifixion lies in the cross itself — the size, the weight, the rough timber. But it is the nails that hold Jesus in place. The hardware of death. Three nails piercing through tendons, bones, nerves. Holding a body in suspension — not in glory, but in agony. 
 
The pain was so intense, a new word had to be invented for it: 
Excruciating.

Literally, "out of the cross."
 
Jesus partook in pain. 
Real pain. 
Not symbolic. 
Not imagined. 
Not metaphorical. 
Embodied pain.