PILATES’S MOMENT OF TRUTH – (2)
THE LAMB, THE EAGLE AND THE FOX (Part 2 of 2)
IT seemed as if all Jerusalem had arrived on the “pavement” (that vast area consisting of fountains and porticos) outside Antonia fortress. Pilate had heard them coming from a distance and was waiting in the porch, a throne-like chair having been brought out and placed into position. Jesus was taken up the flight of steps to join him. Everyone knew, including Pilate, that not only was a decision expected from him but one which would satisfy the Sanhedrin. The members were probably assembled menacingly on the steps midway between Pilate and the populace. He was caught up in the web of intrigue and knew he was unable to extricate himself. Â
When the noise had abated sufficiently for him to be heard, Pilate pointed to Jesus and declared his unpopular observation to all assembled, “I find in him no fault at all.” A cry ascended from an increasingly hostile audience, the people by this time mouthing the desires of the priests. Pilate managed to quieten them again, and produced what he thought was a likely solution. “But ye have a custom, that I should release unto you one at the Passover… “ (John 18:38-39) He was in a quandary. His interrogation of the prisoner had convinced him there was ‘something’ about him, that it would be wiser to be careful. If, therefore, he could remove the glare of publicity from Jesus to another he hoped his many critics would be pacified.
In custody not far away as everyone knew was a notorious individual named Barabbas a thief, murderer and insurrectionist due to be crucified that day. Pilate saw his chance and took it, “whom will ye that I release unto you? Barabbas, or Jesus which is called Christ?” (Matthew 27:17) The question was barbed, for in seeking to draw away attention from Jesus he also revealed his contempt for the Jews amassed before him. He knew that despite the Sanhedrin’s pretence at piety, envy was the motive behind its hatred of Jesus and that the people were merely mouthing the official policy (John 11:49-53) He therefore gave them all a choice, they could choose between undisputed wickedness on the one hand and innocent purity on the other, even possible deity. Surely, claiming the righteous Hebrew God as their own they would not wish to opt for the former!
The Dream
While Pilate’s offer was being mooted a messenger was seen whispering in his ear. He had come from within the main building on behalf of Pilate’s wife. Pilate appeared startled, if not somewhat annoyed, Roman procurators being unused to interference from their spouses in matters concerning official business. Her name is not mentioned in Scripture, but history records it was Claudia Procula. She had been awoken that morning by the tumult on the pavement below, following a nightmare. Evidently before retiring for the night her husband had mentioned he was expecting a visit from the Sanhedrin in connection with Jesus of Nazareth. She had often heard his name mentioned, both within the castle and in society as a whole. It was not surprising she should have dreamt about him, the One who was causing her husband so many problems.
The details of the disturbing dream are not known, but uppermost in her mind when she awoke was the fact that Jesus was righteous and therefore innocent of the charges levelled against him. Equally was impressed upon her the realisation that her husband’s involvement in the machinations of the Sanhedrin should end immediately, that he was being dragged into a situation from which it would be difficult or even impossible to escape. The message whispered to Pilate was clear, “Have thou nothing to do with that just (righteous) man, for 1 have suffered many things this day in a dream because of him. “ (Matthew 27:19)
Pilate was now under greater pressure. God the Son had graciously confronted him with the question of eternal values, now Providence through Claudia’s dream was warning him not to harm Jesus. In effect the message given three years earlier at Jesus’ baptism was heard again, “this is my beloved Son in whom 1 am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17), but Pilate had gone too far along this road to falter. Roman pride was at stake.
The New Testament reveals Pilate’s dilemma and unease. Until that moment he had two parties opposing him, the priests and the people, now a third one had arisen much closer to him! Having listened to the messenger he knew a decision was called for, but what was it to be? The crowds were getting impatient, chanting Barabbas’ name. Pilate suddenly realised what he had to do. He must shift the onus of blame from himself to the crowds. “Which of the two will ye that 1 release unto you?” (Matthew 27:21) Whatever they replied he would feel obliged to concede to their wishes, and in this way would avoid the responsibility of following his conscience and setting Jesus free. The chanting continued from the steps and the pavement, everyone calling for Barabbas’ release. Pilate felt relieved, but at the expense of knowing that whereas the previous day he had believed himself to be a proud self-confident Roman, he was now publicly exposed as a weak and dissolute man.
The Cry
In the meantime, he continued to sidestep the procurator’s responsibility, one which he had exercised many times before, that of passing judgement upon the prisoner. It was unlikely he had been so hesitant on the many previous occasions. He decided to wriggle free from the ultimate decision and allow majority thinking to have its way, a practice seldom indulged in by Roman officials.“What shall 1 do then with Jesus who is called Christ. ... (Matthew 27:22). … whom ye call the King of the Jews?” (Mark 15:12) They had no hesitation in voicing an opinion. A roar ascended from all sides, “Let him be crucified.” Pilate felt his guilt-ridden dilemma slipping away. After all, if he was so outnumbered what else could he do but comply with the majority? Then came the coup de grace. Pilate having apparently shifted all blame from himself, created the impression he was supportive of Jesus. “Why what evil hath he done?” (Matthew 27:23) Everyone would be satisfied, including his wife! and not least his conscience that the condemnation of Jesus had been a democratic decision. As far as he was concerned, he had publicly upheld Jesus’ innocence. Jesus standing nearby was the only one not deceived.
As the chanting, “let him be crucified” (Matthew 27:22), reached a crescendo Pilate clutched at the ultimate straw in seeking to be justified in the eyes of the Sanhedrin and the state, and not least Jesus himself. Everyone had to be made aware that he was exonerated of all personal blame in the matter. In fact he had to be seen to be innocent. Mere words can get lost in the chaos of such an occasion. Pilate ordered a servant, perhaps Claudia’s still standing nearby, to fetch a bowl, some water and a towel. Once these items appeared the ignoble Roman ostentatiously rinsed his hands in the water making sure all eyes were upon him. Surely they would believe him now, “I am innocent of the blood of this just (righteous) person, “ and then to underline his apparent nobility of character and motive he added, “see YE to it. “ (Matthew 27:24) They did. In the most notorious decision of history, Barabbas was freed. Then to what must surely have astonished even the hardened Pilate, and which underlined the satanic element in the entire proceedings, those baying for Jesus’ death screamed forth an alarming oath: “His blood be on us, and on our children. “ (Matthew 27:25) As Jesus was scourged in full view of them all, heaven recorded the oath.
The Scourging
The scourging was always the preliminary to crucifixion. Recognised as being an extremely brutal way of administering punishment, no Roman citizen was allowed by law to receive it. (Acts 16:37) Many strong men died as a result, most would have fainted. The victim was stripped to the waist and tied in a bent position to a post, so that his back was taut and well exposed. Then two powerfully built men (“lictors”) standing on either side of him delivered the blows in quick succession. They carried whips with leather thongs, each one weighted with jagged edges of bone or lead, and as each blow was struck the pieces dug deeply into the flesh. Soon open wounds formed a network of rivulets across the back and the blood oozed freely from them, until it dripped from the flesh hanging like ribbons. At times when the sufferer twisted and flinched in agony, the thongs failed to find their target and instead curled over the shoulders or around the head.
There is no record of how many stripes Jesus received, nor is it important for anyone to know. The customary number would have made it difficult for him to stand up, never mind alone to walk. Yet he was obliged to do both when his ordeal was partially over, for once Pilate’s soldiers had cut Jesus down from the whipping post they were permitted to gratify their bestiality further. Pilate did not order fresh cruelties, but he must have known what his men might wish to do to his suffering prisoner.
The Humiliation
As the crowds awaited fresh developments they watched Jesus, one moment staggering and the next crawling, goaded by his guards into the main building. There, out of sight, more soldiers joined their comrades as together they too waited for the governor to declare his verdict from the porch, and as they did so they decided to amuse themselves. Jesus, the King, was forced to participate in a mock coronation. With ruffian hands they ripped off the remainder of his clothing, until,completely humiliated he stood naked before the jeering onlookers. It says much for Jesus’ physical strength, that he could endure this added punishment without collapsing.
Nearby there lay a soldier’s scarlet mantle, a discarded one for there was much blood on their victim’s back and the owner would not have wanted his garment soiled. (Matthew 27:28) It served a useful purpose as a regal robe, although not so impressive as Herod’s had been a short time before. They placed the mantle around Jesus’ bruised and brooded shoulders, and with a stick in his hand acting as a sceptre, the One who within weeks would be seated at God’s right hand in glory (Hebrews 1:3), was pushed into his “throne” by Pilate’s proud praetorium guard. The excruciating pain and nervous tension expressed themselves in his eyes.
Someone fetched a few twigs from a particularly thorny plant, and managed to twist it into the shape of a crown. The Romans were not fussy about how it should be worn, regardless of the pain inflicted they rammed it down on Jesus’ head until the crown was wedged and the skin pierced. Fresh blood began to trickle, which prompted a frenzy of raucous delight. The King of an everlasting dominion, whom all other dominions will one day serve (Daniel 7:14), suffered mockery from the lowly citizens of a decaying empire. The Word of God who had become flesh, whose fist contains the iron rod of divine Judgement (Revelation 19:15), rneekly submitted to the blows inflicted by hands covered in his blood. Their foul spittle marked the face of he who holds the “keys of hell and of death.” (Revelation 1:18) The prophecy of Isaiah was not known to Jesus’ tormentors, but it would have sprung to his mind: “I gave my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to them that plucked off the hair; 1 hid not my face from shame and spitting. For the Lord God will help me; therefore shall 1 not be confounded; therefore have I set my face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be ashamed. {He is} near who justifieth me. Who will contend with me? Let us stand together. Who {is} mine adversary? Let him come near to me. (Isaiah 50:6-8)
With the governor’s approach, the soldiers ended the charade. Pilate, seeing what the guards had done to their prisoner, made no effort to admonish them for their unruly behaviour, nor did he allow Jesus a moment to recover himself and remove the objects of ridicule. Indeed, he intended to use Jesus as a visual aid to illustrate a point to the waiting crowds. Pilate went out to them leaving behind him the beauty of unusual purity at the mercy of uncontrolled depravity. His mind was occupied with another matter, the justification of himself in the eyes of the people and of Caesar in Rome. Glancing over his shoulder to estimate the emperor’s thoughts was an occupational hazard. Once outside he addressed the increasingly impatient multitude: “Behold, I bring him forth to you, that ye may know that I find no fault in him.” (John 19:4)
Behold The Man!
At that moment, Jesus was seen walking very slowly through the porch from the judgement hall to the top of the steps. Many in the crowds could not have helped recognising the pathos behind his appearance, and some would have been shocked at what they saw. He was in an obvious state of collapse, following the hours of strain culminating in the scourging he had received. The muscular figure who strode the length and breadth of Israel for three years, covering distances of seventy miles or more in a preaching tour, had been greatly weakened. The One who could heal multitudes last thing at night, and then rise to pray “a great while before day” (Mark 1:32-35) in anticipation of many hours spent ministering was, physically, only a shadow of his former self.
“ECCE HOMO!” by Ciseri. This famous picture shows our Lord before the
Judgement Seat of Caesar’s representative, Pontius Pilate, and the people of Jerusalem.
This was an opportunity for the crowds to ask themselves why Jesus was treated so wickedly. (Acts 2:23) In their hearts they would have agreed with Peter’s assessment of Christ, that “God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Ghost (Spirit) and with power; who went about doing good, and healing all that were oppressed of the devil, for God was with him. “ (Acts 10:38) Many of them had joyfully followed him from Galilee as he made his way to Jerusalem for the Passover feast. (Luke 9:51) They could have testified to Jesus’ words of comfort to an imprisoned and failing John the Baptist, that “the blind receive their sight, and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, and the poor have the gospel preached to them. “ (Matthew 11:5) Now here he was standing before them, a silent rebuke to their fickleness and disloyalty.
With a gesture towards Jesus, Pilate declared with a loud voice to the entire assembly, “Ecce homo! Behold the man!” His contemptuous sneer reflected Rome’s attitude towards physical weakness. His prisoner might claim to be the King of an invisible kingdom, but with his thorny crown and tattered bloodied mantle what a dismal picture he painted! Besides, where were his armies? If they existed, the King had told him they were not even prepared to go to war on his behalf. (John 18:36) It was all in sharp contrast to the might of Rome, with Caesar king of all he surveyed and his conquering armies encamped throughout his extensive domains.
Pilate’s voice continues to reverberate, but this time around the world, with Jesus still the centre of attraction and focal point for discussion. The Roman empire officially came to an end in 476 A.D. when Rome fell to Odoacer the Herulean, but the Kingdom of God grows like the grain of mustard seed Jesus spoke about. It is indeed “the least of all seeds; but when it is grown, it is the greatest among herbs, and becometh a tree, so that the birds of the air come and lodge in the branches. “ (Matthew 13:32)
The Saviour, Crown And Robe
Early on Good Friday morning, as Jesus stood silently in front of his accusers and abusers, three matters registered themselves in everyone’s mind. These same factors need to be re- examined today by fair-minded people. First was the person of Jesus, who although faint with exhaustion and near to collapse nevertheless revealed an unusual strength of character. The soldiers particularly would have been aware of it had they stopped to reflect upon it. Throughout their savage session with him Jesus had not once complained, nor had he sought to retaliate as they would have expected. (I Peter 2:23)
It was their custom to take advantage of their prisoners, to gain pleasure from others’ pain. Usually, the wretched victim fought and cursed their tormentors with as much vigour as they could muster in the circumstances. Jesus was not like that, he submitted himself to the indignities and humiliation in complete resignation to the Father’s will and in submission to his enemies. In other words, Jesus practised what he had preached to a remarkable degree: “I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them who despitefully use you, and persecute you. “ (Matthew 5:44) How simple to preach from the text, how difficult to practice it! The Sanhedrin would have been too biased against Jesus to have noted his gracious demeanour, but Hate expressed amazement at it. (Matthew 27:12-14)
If only they had been capable of reflecting upon what they had all witnessed. Within close proximity to them stood the Light of the world penetrating the darkness of heathenism and Jewish apostasy. (John 3:19) As One who had volunteered at the Father’s behest to suffer and die for sinners (John 3:16), however loathsome and vile, Jesus expected the treatment he had received. Indeed, he had forewarned the disciples of the impending trauma. (Matthew 16:21) When it arrived he submitted in the spirit of gracious humility, which did not make the suffering less distressful but it supplied a positive reason for it.
 Behold The Governor!
“Behold the man!”, shouted Pilate and the sight of Jesus weakened and bedraggled enraged the Sanhedrin still further With shouts of “crucify him, crucify him” they made their intentions clear. Once more the onus was pushed towards the unwilling governor. Justifying himself was not proving straight forward. Impatiently Pilate tried to free himself from the dilemma, by suggesting Jesus should be handed back to the Jews to deal with. Still he insisted upon the prisoner’s innocence, but Caiaphas and his fellow priests were too wily for Pilate. They recognised a troubled man when they saw one.
All Judean governors feared a Jewish uprising in Jerusalem during the feasts. With so many excitable and passionate Jews confined within such a small circumference, the city was like a tinder box and any uprising from the downtrodden people was likely to spark off the nation’s resentment against Roman rule. Riots would follow and the noise and chaos would be heard in Rome and if the emperor saw fit, Judaea’s governor would be summoned to answer. Romans felt strongly about law and order.
The Sanhedrin’s belligerence coupled to his wife’s dream caused Pilate to fear the worst, especially when he heard the words, “We have a law, and by our law he ought to die, because he made himself the Son of God. “ (John 19:7-8) Pilate knew that unless he did something about the situation quickly it had all the marks of a potential catastrophe. The chief priests supported by the weight of their authority, together with Jerusalem overflowing with passionate Jews ready to listen to them, were not prepared to be trifled with.
Once again Jesus was ordered to follow Pilate into the judgement hall, the troubled Procurator probably thinking he would be able to assess the situation more clearly if he interrogated his prisoner yet again. Something he said might provide a solution. Pilate was more of a prisoner than Jesus, who despite his ordeal dictated the terms of the interrogation. While the latter chose to speak, or otherwise, his captor paced to and fro between the Sanhedrin standing in the porch and Jesus in the hall like a man pacing a cell. Somehow or another Pilate was determined to rid himself of this crisis, but he was baffled about how to do it. In an attempt at discovering an answer he demanded to know from Jesus who and what he was, and where he had come from. But Jesus’ silence only made masters worse for him. (John 19:9-16)
Pilate appeared almost frantic. He was trapped by the Sanhedrin’s strong hint of a possible uprising, his wife’s unnerving persistence, and Jesus’ claims of deity. It was uncanny, but the condemned prisoner was the only one who could help him. He must speak! He almost pleaded with Jesus to say something reminding him of his powers as a Roman official to do with him as he desired. Surely, realising he might be freed if he co-operated would be sufficient for Jesus to help himself. Everyone does in a crisis.
Whatever answer Pliate expected he was shocked by the one he received. “Thou couldest have no power {at all} against me, except it were given thee from above. “ (John 19:11) Jesus had been silent in Herod’s presence, but Pilate was allowed a second opportunity to be confronted with truth. The kingdom over which Jesus reigns is not only greater than any other, but sovereignty orders their affairs. That included the mighty Roman empire.
Before Pilate could reply to this astonishing claim, he added, “Therefore he that delivered me unto thee hath the greater sin. ” (John 19:11) His kingdom governs universally, but also personally. It is concerned with private morals as well as public office. The kingdom of heaven is the arbiter over all nations and peoples, rich and poor. (Isaiah 40:18-23) In short, despite his appearance and attire as a condemned prisoner, he was both organiser and judge of the entire proceedings! The raucous crowds, the priestly hypocrites, the vile Herod, the faltering governor: they were all pawns on his giant chess board.
Pilate could find nothing to say such was his bewilderment, but he listened with more than a passing interest for “from thenceforth” (John 19:12) he tried every way he could to have Jesus released. He immediately returned to the porch seeking an opportunity, but the several dozen priests proved too great an obstacle to whatever good intention he might have had. It appears he suggested Jesus could be released, after all he had been scourged and that was surely punishment enough. The surly priests were in no mood to be convinced and refused to let him off the hook. If he set Jesus free, who claimed to be a king, what would Caesar say? Surely Pilate was not suggesting the emperor had a legitimate rival! The thought horrified Pilate for he understood what happened to those accused of treason.
He was trapped in a cul-de-sac of indecision, obliged to align himself publicly with either Caesar or Jesus, a situation many have found themselves in since that day. In a state of continued agitation Pilate once again returned to the judgement hall to fetch Jesus, who by this time must have been in a state of physical collapse. He had not only suffered general abuse and a scourging, but had remained standing for many hours. It was still early in the morning but the heat was beginning to stifle, and the trauma far from being over had scarcely begun.
Pilate took Jesus back to the porch, the governor sitting and the prisoner remaining on his feet. (John 19:13-14) Several hours had passed since the Sanhedrin first arrived at Antonia. Now everyone knew the final decision was about to be made. Pilate was careful not to create the impression he was associated with Jesus, or that he sided with the Jewish priests either. At the same time he was unable to forget his wife’s dream. He even attempted to appease Jesus and his claims. In short, he tried to please everyone and ended by pleasing no one. Not long before he had declared, “Behold the man! “, this time he changed the appeal to “Behold YOUR King!” Jesus was not his, but theirs.
The Sanhedrin stamped its foot. It too wished to distance itself from Jesus. Vehemently the priests persisted in their chanting. “Away with him, away with him.” Pilate wished to make it clear once more he disowned his prisoner, and at the same time could not resist taunting these hypocritical enemies of both God and Rome. “Shall I crucify your KING?” he shouted, but in replying the Sanhedrin exposed the nerve end of its unbelief “We have no king but Caesar. ” (John 19:15) In its determination to resist Jesus’ claims, this august body of religious leaders publicly rejected their Sovereign God whom they claimed to serve.
The tragic Pilate brought to the edge of truth by the Son of God himself, finally rejected it. Caesar’s pomp and power, already fading, proved more tangible for him than any unseen eternal kingdom that Jesus might know. (II Corinthians 4:18) Pilate’s loyalty to the temporal powers was not rewarded. Not long after the events on Good Friday morning he was sacked as governor of Judaea, ending his days in Gaul where he committed suicide.
With acknowledgment to ‘1521’- “Vocal Protestant’s International Fellowship”