The shock of the film's message hit me like a whip: I hung Him on the cross. I was the Temple guard that punched Him in the face. I was the Legionary who ripped His flesh with rod and fragellum. I was the taunting heckler in the crowd, the sarcastic foreigner jeering at the Hebrew holy man, the exasperated procurator mocking him with the question What is Truth?
It was me all the time.