Jesus before Pilate
On the morning of his Passion, Christ is led before Pilate, the Roman governor who alone can pronounce a sentence of death. In the exchange that follows, the accused reveals himself a king, Pilate finds himself little by little judged, and, warned even by his wife, he condemns against what he knows. He senses the truth without daring to receive it.
Are you the king of the Jews?
Pilate opens the questioning with the one thing that concerns him, a power rival to Rome: “Are you the king of the Jews?” John 18:33 Christ does not deny that he is a king; he corrects the idea at once. Pilate is looking for an agitator ready to stir up the people, and he has before him a king of another kind, whom none of his categories can grasp.
A kingdom not from here
“My kingdom is not of this world. If it were of this world, my guards would have fought to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But no, my kingdom is not from here.” John 18:36 The proof he gives is simple: no army rose to defend him, no sword prevented his arrest. Pressed to say whether he is a king, he confirms it and reveals on what his reign rests: “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world: to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” John 18:37 His reign is exercised not over lands, but over the hearts that take the side of truth. Pilate awaited a political rival, and he hears of a kingdom and a truth that exceed all a governor can judge.
What is truth?
At that word, Pilate lets fall a question that has remained famous: “What is truth?” John 18:38 Then he goes out without waiting for the answer. Truth stood before him, made man, and he turns away to go and deal with the case. It is the first sign of his drama: he asks the right question and refuses to receive the answer, because it would commit him. Yet he has grasped the essential, and he says it to the accusers: he finds in this man no ground for condemnation.
Barabbas, the just and the murderer
Convinced of Jesus’ innocence, Pilate seeks to release him without crossing the crowd, and takes hold of a custom of the feast: “According to your custom, I am to release one prisoner for you at the Passover. Do you want me to release for you the king of the Jews?” John 18:39 He thinks he holds a way out: between Jesus and a notorious criminal, the choice seems settled in advance. The crowd foils him: “Not this man! Barabbas! Now Barabbas was a bandit.” John 18:40 They prefer to the Just One a man of blood. His very name, Barabbas, means “son of the father”: a false son of the father, a murderer, is set free, and the true Son of the Father is condemned. Several ancient manuscripts even give his full name, Jesus Barabbas: the choice then stood between two men named Jesus, the one “son of the father” in name only, the other the Son of the Father. The exchange says more than the cowardice of a crowd: the innocent takes the place of the guilty, and the guilty goes free in the place of the innocent. Peter will say it to their faces in Jerusalem: “You disowned the Holy and Righteous One, and asked for the pardon of a murderer.” Acts 3:14 What plays out there in one scene is the whole mystery of the Cross: the one innocent condemned so that the guilty be set free.
Behold the Man
Pilate then tries something else: to hand Jesus over to the soldiers’ mockery, hoping that a king made ridiculous will disarm the hatred. They scourge him, crown him with thorns, cover him with a purple garment, and strike him while hailing him “king of the Jews” (John 19:1-3). Then Pilate shows him to the crowd, disfigured with blows: “So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple cloak. And Pilate said to them, Behold the man.” John 19:5 He means to stir pity; without knowing it, he reveals. “Behold the Man”: in this tortured figure turned into a mock king appears the true man, the new Adam who bears upon himself the crown of our curse. The insignia fastened on him for a joke, the purple and the thorns, say what he is: a king, but crowned with the suffering of men. The mockery, like the inscription later, proclaims in spite of itself the truth it thinks it flouts. Once more, before the sentence, Pilate presents him to the crowd: “Behold your king” John 19:14, and it is, John notes, “the day of Preparation for the Passover, about midday” John 19:14, the hour when the Passover lambs began to be slain. The judge thus presents the true king at the very moment the Passover lambs fall.
The dream and the fear
Pilate’s trouble keeps growing. While he sits in judgement, his wife sends him a warning: “Have nothing to do with the case of that righteous man, for today, in a dream, I have suffered greatly because of him.” Matthew 27:19 A pagan woman calls Jesus “that righteous man”, and a dream troubles her enough to interrupt a trial. When Pilate then hears that the accused has made himself the Son of God, his fear redoubles: “When Pilate heard this, he was even more afraid.” John 19:8 He comes back to question him about his origin, “Where are you from?” John 19:9, as a man who wonders whether he has before him more than a man. Christ keeps silent, and that silence astonishes him. This silence fulfills the figure of the suffering Servant, mute before those who strike him: “Mistreated, he humbles himself, he does not open his mouth, like the lamb led to the slaughter.” Isaiah 53:7 These signs all warn him of one same thing: that he should not condemn this righteous man.
You would have no power
Before this silence, Pilate grows irritated and brandishes his authority: “Do you not know that I have the power to release you and the power to crucify you?” John 19:10 The answer reverses the ranks: “You would have no power over me if it had not been given to you from above. That is why the one who handed me over to you bears the greater sin.” John 19:11 The judge holds his power only from God, and does not dispose of it as freely as he thinks. The accused, for his part, remains master of the hour: he hands himself over, no one wrests him away. And guilt is measured: the one who handed him over sins more, without Pilate being cleansed of it for all that.
Against his conscience
Everything urged Pilate to release this man: his own judgement, his wife’s warning, his fear. Yet one threat is enough to make him yield: “If you release this man, you are no friend of Caesar.” John 19:12 Between the truth he has glimpsed and his place beside the emperor, he chooses the emperor. The threat lands because Pilate’s position is already fragile: an ill-liked governor, he had clashed with the Jews more than once and could be denounced to Rome. The title of “friend of Caesar” counted; to lose it was to risk his office. He sacrifices an innocent man to keep himself. He has water brought and washes his hands, “I am innocent of this blood” Matthew 27:24, as if one could wash oneself of a sentence one pronounces oneself. His hesitation does not excuse him, it accuses him: he condemns not out of ignorance, but against what his conscience, his wife and his own fear were telling him. And the crowd obtains what it demands: “We have no king but Caesar.” John 19:15 In proclaiming Caesar their only king, the chief priests repeat Israel’s most ancient refusal, the day the people, asking for a king like the nations, rejected the reign of God: “it is not you they are rejecting, it is me they are rejecting, refusing to have me reign over them.” 1 Samuel 8:7 To cast out Christ, they deny the very kingship of God over his people.
In the end, Pilate holds firm on a single point, and it is on the truth he had fled. He has the charge written on the cross, and has it inscribed in three languages. “Pilate had written a notice, which he had placed on the cross; it read, Jesus of Nazareth, the king of the Jews. Many of the Jews read this notice, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and the text was written in Hebrew, in Latin, and in Greek.” John 19:19-20 The title humiliates the leaders who forced his hand: it throws their “king” back at them, nailed to a gibbet. They demand that it be softened, that it be written only that he claimed to be king; Pilate refuses: “What I have written, I have written.” John 19:22 His insult nonetheless speaks true: to wound these chiefs, he had to proclaim king the one they were crucifying, stating in the same words what he had sensed without daring to receive it. And God makes use of it: the one who asked what truth is proclaims, to the three languages of the known world, that the condemned man is king.