‘They part my garments among them, and for My robe they cast lots.

Meanwhile as He hung there, the soldiers gambled heartlessly at His feet, dividing up His clothing, and casting lots for His seamless robe. As far as they were concerned He was as good as dead, and His clothes were their perquisites. They took another swig of wine. They were half drunk. It was a good thing to be half drunk when you carried out a crucifixion. It deadened the awfulness of what you were doing. And to them He was just another victim.

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