Pilate: "I Couldn't Make The Hard Decision"

 

You know Cornelius, when you asked about my days as ruler in Judea, you make me search my memory. Especially when you ask whether I remember anything about the beginnings there of the Christian sect that is growing so strongly here in Rome. I find it hard to recall much that is very definite.

There were many uprisings among the Jewish people in those days because of their peculiar beliefs. Likewise there were constantly new nomadic prophets who claimed to have a message for the people from their God, Yahweh. Jesus, whom some called the Christ, was a Galilean. I'm sure, because I remember sending him to Herod, the tetrarch in Galilee who was in Jerusalem at the time Jesus was brought to me for trial. It seems that the Galileans were particularly inclined to follow these would-be messiahs.

About all I can recall for sure in connection with this Jesus, whom the Christians follow, is that his trial came up one year during the Passover season. That was a time of year when I stayed in Jerusalem because of the possibility of trouble.

Every year at the time of the Passover in the spring these Jewish people came to their Jerusalem temple from all over, from Galilee up north but also from many non-Jewish countries, from Greece, Syria, Egypt, and even from Rome. So whenever there was a Passover celebration the agitators and fanatics would be busy stirring up the people against Rome. On group, called the Zealots, was particularly violent and fanatic. I had many of them crucified.

I remember one particular Passover that involved these Christians you’re asking about. That year things seemed especially unsettled and the Jewish people were restless. Early in the he week of the Passover my men reported that a Galilean rabbi had come into Jerusalem on a donkey and some of the pilgrims hailed him as a hero.

They had even staged a kind of festival parade, pulling branches from palm trees and olive trees to honor him and taking off their coats to put on the road for their hero to tide over on his donkey. But there was no violence or rioting, and though they shouted hopes of deliverance the rabbi did nothing to incite rebellion. So we did nothing about it.

That same week, however, we had to arrest another Jew by the name of Barabbas. I remember him because the incident that caused his arrest was particularly violent. Barabbas killed one of my Roman soldiers. It happened when his gang of zealots stirred up a demonstration against Rome trying to incite the Jews to revolution. When my soldiers broke up the gathering, Barabbas managed to kill one of them. We held him in custody until the best time to crucify him as an example to other agitators.

This kind of riotous agitation gave me a clue that there would be more trouble brewing. I suspected that the temple crowd, the priests, Pharisees, and scribes, might try to whip up hatred toward our Roman law and order. There was an unusually large crowd of pilgrims and Jewish people from many countries in Jerusalem that Passover. Such a crowd meant disturbances of all sorts against Roman rule.

So I was really surprised when my servant woke my very early one Friday, the day when the Jewish Passover would reach its climax in the evening. The servant told me that the temple crowd, led by the chief priest himself, had brought a political prisoner they accused of treason and wanted me to crucify. It wasn't at all what I expected of them. I knew at once that they were up to some kind of trickery. But I thought it best at least to listen to their charges.

I had to leave the palace to meet them on the pavement outside because of one of their peculiar religious laws.

Though they could bring this man, likely innocent, and shout for his crucifixion, they couldn't enter the palace of a gentile governor without becoming religiously unclean and thus not able to celebrate their Passover.

When they hauled up their prisoner before me; I saw that he too, was a Jew. The priests said his name was Jesus from Nazareth. Of course, the name meant nothing to me, but I recognized at once that coming from Nazareth made Jesus a Galilean. That is why I later sent him over to King Herod of Galilee, who being a Jew, was also in Jerusalem for the Passover.

All that effort accomplished, however, was that Herod thereafter became more friendly toward me. He returned Jesus to my jurisdiction and decision.

As soon as I saw Jesus I knew at once that the priests had a religious quarrel with him and not a political one. Jesus had a calm air and a kind of serenity about him that didn't fit a political rebel. So I told the priests to take care of it themselves according to their religious laws.

But they got mean. They insisted Jesus was a traitor and a rebel. They threatened to notify Caesar in Rome that I was soft on traitors. The temple crowd led by the high priest said this Jesus claimed to be a king and that he didn't support paying taxes to Caesar.

Though I knew in my heat that it was all being done out of spite and envy, I went through the motions of asking Jesus whether he was king of the Jews. He looked at me without fear and gave a strange answer. Jesus said, "My kingdom is not of this world." Then he said some things about truth that made no sense to me. But I knew beyond a doubt that Jesus of Nazareth was no political threat to Rome.

Then I hit on what I thought was a brilliant idea. It would certainly get me off the hook of having to make a final decision about Jesus. I wouldn't have to go against the Jewish leaders with a decision to set Jesus free in spite of their charges. They would make the choice themselves, I thought. I offered to release either the harmless Jesus or the vicious Barabbas. But the hatred of the priests toward Jesus - which I believe stemmed from envy - was so great that they stirred up the people to ask that Barabbas be released. [Matthew 27:15-23]

I was frustrated. But, I thought, surely they would be satisfied with a lesser punishment than crucifixion. So I had Jesus flogged till the blood ran down his back in streams.

Then I brought Jesus out, showed him to the people. I told them I found Jesus to be innocent, and said, "Here he is! Look at Him!" To my consternation the crowd still shouted, "Crucify him! Crucify him!"

What could I do? If I didn't crucify him they would blacken my name to Caesar in Rome. So I yielded. I gave my decision and ordered Jesus to be crucified. Even my own wife had warned me not to get involved, because she had a dream that told her Jesus was innocent. [Matthew 27:19] But what could I do? I had to make a decision. But I could not make the hard decision.

So I took the easy way out. I condemned an innocent man to crucifixion to save my reputation with Caesar at Rome. To let the priests and temple crowd know, though, that I considered Jesus innocent and that it was their responsibility, I called for a basin of water. Then I publicly washed my hands and said "I am innocent of this man's blood; see to it yourselves." [Matthew 27:21-26]

As I remember it, that was the beginning of the Christian sect. In time, even my wife, became a believer. She tells me often that I, too, should ask God to forgive me. She often assures me that Jesus of Nazareth, whom I crucified, really is the Son of God and that, three days after he died on the cross, he rose from the dead. She says that is what gave his disciples courage and gives his followers today the faith to say, "Jesus Christ is Lord of all."

Concluding thoughts: Poor Pontius Pilate! He was faced with what for him was a hard decision: To do what was right and set Jesus free or to do what was safe for him and yield to pressure. How often we are faced with decisions that tempt us to protect our own interests by yielding to pressures that make us do what is not right or good in God's sight.

Jesus Christ was crucified under Pontius Pilate, but He rose again to give assurance that God's mercy is there for all who seek it in repentance and faith. Whenever we confess the Creed, in church or at home, may it be a voluntary testimony of our own faith in Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior.

Illustration from a woodcut by Baron Julius Schnoor von Carolsfeld, 1794-1872, a distinguished German artist known especially for his book, The Book of Books in Pictures. copyright © WELS used by permission for personal and congregational use.