Everyone's Vision Of Pilate Differs. As For Me, I Pity The Man
Pilate has always been an interesting character in the saga of the Passion. It was he who sat in his apparent seat of power, established by the glory of Rome; yet on one fateful day he was powerless against a crowd in the street. On the one side was an angry mob of accusers, and on the other was an accused man.
Pilate was the Roman Governor of Judea from A.D. 26-36. His usual seat was in Caesarea but was in Jerusalem to keep a closer eye on the influx of crowds due to the feast of the Passover. He had full administrative and judicial powers in the region.
Accounts show him as severe and inflexible in his handling of matters that arose. He had put down several uprisings rather brutally and had apparently been warned by Caesar to cease the bloodshed in this region. Not much is known of his early years or of his later years. There is much speculation regarding his later years, none of which we can be absolutely sure. He was a product of Roman strength in a back woods region that had its share of troublemakers.
It is a difficult reflection, indeed (if we are honest) to put ourselves in the place of Pontius Pilate.
As the Jews brought Jesus to him, he saw, on one hand, the life of a man who through questioning he found to pose no threat to the empire and on the other, the potential for more bloodshed and violence in the region.
Pilate’s obvious human weakness seems to come to a head when he looks at Jesus Christ, the Way, the Truth and the Life, and asks him: What is truth?
Pilate, in his seat of judgment, is at a loss to know what real truth is in this life. He expresses that question to Jesus and yet he is so blinded by his own situation that he cannot recognize that Truth stands there before him. Sound familiar?
How often do we, my brothers and sisters, sit in our own seats of judgment? How often do we judge ourselves to be right while others are wrong, handing down our personal justice while allowing Christ to be scourged and crucified? How often do we push Christ away from us in our negative words and sinful deeds, giving in to the crowds in our work place, our family life, or society and then wash our hands of the matter? As if this erases our culpability!
Pilate had the human position of authority on this day, and yet it was he who was enslaved and shackled to this world. It was Jesus Christ, enslaved and shackled, who stood in authority.
Everyone’s vision of Pilate differs. As for me, I pity the man. Why? Because I see so much of myself – my human, weak, blind self – in him.
How often have I given in to the crowds? How often have I had Jesus scourged through my sinfulness? And yet, Jesus continues to make this sacrifice for me … for us.
Finally, at the end of this ordeal, Pontius Pilate commits one final act of decisiveness. What his reasoning was, I will not know in this life but it is one of the first questions I will ask in the next. On the cross, a placard is hung above Jesus the Anointed One, which reads: INRI (Iesus Nazarenus, Rex Iudaeorum) Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews.
The inscription was written in Hebrew, Latin and Greek so that passers-by of all nationalities would be able to read it.
And so from this, I take with me hope that even when I screw things up with royal colors, I can still stand back up; redeem myself through the blood of the man I have scourged; and proclaim to the world that Jesus the Nazarene is truly my brother…my lord…my savior…my king. Amen.
