We now enter the
Praetorium, where we encounter Pilate in a struggle with himself. The following
passage is taken from “And Then He Called My Name” by Richard Exley, Honor
Books, Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1996).
Pilate speaks: Stepping
out onto the balcony, I pretend to ignore the mob gathered in the street below,
while studying the situation out of the corner of my eye. They’re all here,
from Caiaphas the high priest on down, so it must be important, though I cannot
imagine what it is this time…. The cause of all this commotion seems to be a
rather nondescript peasant. He is bound and closely guarded, though he does not
appear at all dangerous. “What has this man done?” I demand, not even trying to
keep the impatience out of my voice…. “He’s plotting a rebellion against Rome
and telling our people not to pay taxes to Caesar. He even claims to be king of
the Jews.”…. Though I would like to ignore them, I know I cannot. If I take no
action, and it turns out this peasant is really a revolutionist, Caesar will
have my head…. At last I turn to a guard. “Bring the prisoner to me. I want to
interrogate him privately….” When at last I confront him… he seems the only one
at peace. He is no ordinary peasant, of that I am sure…. “Are you the king of
the Jews?” I ask…. Looking at me intently he says, “My kingdom is not of this
world.” “So you are a king, then,” I press him, hoping for a speedy resolution
to this tiresome mess. “For that reason I was born. And for that reason I came
into the world. I speak truth, and everyone who loves truth receives me….” This
peasant is no king, at least not in any way that makes him a threat to Caesar.
There’s not a political bone in his body. He’s innocent of their charges, but
it will not be easy to release him…. I step onto the balcony and declare in a
loud voice: “I have examined this man, and I do not find him guilty of any
crime. Therefore I will have him scourged, and then I will release him….” “No!”
the angry crowd screams. “This man is an enemy of Caesar…. Give us Barabbas!”Curtly
I give the order for the prisoner they call Jesus to be taken away and scourged,
trying not to think of what is in store for him…. Pacing the marble floor of
the palace, I search for a way to release this peasant without inciting the
Jews to riot. Reports of political unrest in Judaea must not reach the ear of Caesar.
If they do, I will not have to worry about a transfer. My career in the foreign
service will be finished….Hearing footsteps approaching, I turn and find myself
confronted by a tragic figure. Our troublesome peasant has become a kind of
clown king. Not only has he been
scourged….for his head they have fashioned a crown of cruel Judean thorns. I am
tempted to laugh, so ridiculous does he appear, but something in his eyes stops
me. By now he should be a broken man, humbled by the might of Rome. Or if not humbled,
he should be defiant, consumed with a hate-filled rage. He is neither. Instead,
there is about him a sense of destiny that is deeply disturbing. I am the Roman
Governor, and he a mere peasant. In my hands I hold the power of life and death.
Yet it feels as if I am on trial here and not he! Somehow I feel as if I am
being weighed in the balances and found wanting. More determined than ever to
release him, I take him by the arm and walk outside to face the restless crowd….
In a loud voice I shout, “Behold the man….” “Crucify him!” they scream. Their
words strike me like physical blows, and for a moment I reel in stunned
disbelief. “But he is innocent,” I fume…. “By our law he deserves death. He
claims to be the Son of God, and for that he must die.” A god! Could I, a mere
mortal, have been playing judge to a god? The thought of it strikes fear in my
heart. My throat closes and my breath comes in ragged gasps. In an instant
Claudia’s dream is made clear to me. But what can I do? I am a pawn in the
hands of these mad Jews! They have trapped me between the wrath of Caesar and
the vengeance of the gods…. I confront him once more. “Where do you come from?”
I demand, desperate to know the truth. He does not answer, and my fear gives
birth to angry rantings. “Why do you refuse to answer me: don’t you realize I
have the power to crucify you or to set you free?” “The only power you have
over me,” he says, regarding me as a patient parent might an unruly child, “is
what has been given to you by my Father.” He is a god, of that I am sure…. “This
man is innocent,” I declare in my most judicial voice. “I will now set him free….”
Shaking their fists and hissing they shout, “Crucify him! Crucify him….” I’ve
played this out about as far as I dare…. Calling for a basin of water, I make a
show of washing my hands before the crowd. “I am innocent of this man’s blood,”
I tell them. “It is your responsibility….” Wiping my hands on my tunic, I motion
for the guard to lead Jesus away. At the door he pauses and looks long at me.
Although I see nothing in his eyes but a sorrowful love, I feel sick. Too late,
I realize that in saving myself, I have betrayed myself (portions of this
narrative are taken from all four gospel accounts of Jesus’ trial before
Pontius Pilate).
Richard Exley
explains: “Legend has it that Pilate’s wife became a believer. And legend
has it that Pilate’s eternal home is a mountain lake where he daily surfaces,
still plunging his hands into the water seeking forgiveness. Forever trying to wash
away his guilt…not for the evil he did, but for the kindness he didn’t do.” In
truth, what happened to Pilate that fateful day in Jerusalem was a foregone
conclusion, the inevitable consequence of the choices of a lifetime….He who
repeatedly chooses expediency over character will not have the moral strength to
do what is right when the ultimate test comes. The man or woman who is
determined to exercise integrity in the hour of truth must practice it in the
little matters that arise daily.
Prayer: Psalm 18:2-4
I love you, O Lord, my strength, O Lord, my rock, my fortress, my deliverer. My god, my rock of refuge, my shield, the horn of my salvation, my stronghold! Praised be the Lord, I exclaim, and I am safe from my enemies.
My thoughts: This
is an interesting way to read the passion, one that takes us inside Pontius
Pilate’s mind. We can all identify with him in one regard: saving ourselves by
selling out is a common practice. We turn a blind eye to things that are wrong
in the work place, in relationships and even to our own inner voices in order to
maintain the status quo. If we don’t stand up for what we know is the truth in
small matters, we cannot depend on ourselves to do it when a crisis arises. Let
us promise God today to be faithful to Him always. We have seen how penetrating the gaze of Jesus was to all of our passion people this week. All we ever need to do is to picture Jesus gazing at us.
No comments:
Post a Comment