I am Pontius Pilate

Pontius Pilate

I am Pontius Pilate.

And the only reason you recognise my name is because it features in your creed.

He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried…

You sing about me.

You talk about me.

Whenever you talk about Jesus.

During the reign of Tiberius Caesar I was made the 5th prefect of Judea.

You might wonder if I’m real.

Pilate Inscription

Well in 1961 archaeologists found physical evidence of my existence. My name engraved in Caesarea Maritama.

It is strange to be famous.

Or maybe infamous.

Because of this strange occasion - just before the passover in Jerusalem when a troublesome Rabbi was brought before me.

It was around AD 26 - thats what you call it these days. You mark your calendars around the birth of Jesus.

In my day our calendars were marked by the emperor on the throne at Rome - in my days it was Tiberius.

But first let me tell you…

I’m a big deal.

Sent by Tiberius - because I was a successful soldier to take charge of Judea and preserve the Peace of Rome.

The Pax Romana.

The Procurator

Like your 007 - I had a license to kill.

One of your Artists - James Tissot - a 19th Century French Artist imagined this scene.

We didn’t have cameras in my day.

But as Procurator I was installed in the fortress Antonia - attached to the Temple at Jerusalem.

We knew since the time of the Assyrians and Babylonians.

That if you wanted to control Judea - you had to control the temple.

The Jewish people loved their invisible God.

In temples all over the world we had inserted statues of Caesar - so that people good bring offerings and worship him.

But in Jerusalem - in Judea - if we dared put an image of Caesar in the temple we’d be in huge trouble.

Desolating Sacrilege

Even your prophets foretold this.

Jesus spoke of this - in Mark 13:14

Mark 13:14 NRSV

14 “But when you see the desolating sacrilege set up where it ought not to be (let the reader understand), then those in Judea must flee to the mountains;

I learnt the hard way.

To assert my authority in Jerusalem - when I first arrived I set up Roman standards in the city of Jerusalem - images of the emperor for all to see.

I was quickly ordered to remove them after 6 days of riots in Jerusalem.

After my time - the emperor Caligula forgot what we had learned about Judea - tried to assert his authority placing a statue of himself in the temple.

Nearly burnt Jerusalem down.

But - I digress.

I was telling you that I was a big deal.

License to kill.

An accomplished soldier.

Visiting the palace of the fortress Antonia.

Away from my home palace in Caesarea -

I was there - controling Jewish religion.

You see - we had found that the key to the Jews was simple.

If you kept the sacred robes of the high priest - then you controlled Jewish religion.

And those who controlled the religion controlled the powerful people of Jerusalem because they benefited from our tax system.

In our day the rich collected taxes from the poor and brought them to us - on a commission basis.

Anyways - I was a big deal.

Much too big a deal to be woken up so Early on a Friday morning by the pesky temple police beating down my door asking me to pronounce judgment on an uppity Jewish Rabbi.

I had real power. Military might.

In Caesarea - my main palace - I was in Jerusalem because Passover was a sensitive time.

In Caesarea I had an army of close to 5000 men. 5 Cohorts. Pillars of my palace still remain.

And 120 men on horseback.

The Sanhedrin (the Jewish council) couldn’t make big decisions without me.

I appointed the high priests.

Controlled the temple and its funds.

Kept the vestments under lock and key.

At the click of my finger - at my thumbs up or thumbs down - people lived and died.

Jewish Nuisance

Early in the morning - I was not amused.

My door being knocked down by the temple police.

A strange man brought to my door - with the accusation that he was causing sedition. Claiming to be King.

Matters like this needed to be handled with care.

Jerusalem was a tinder box.

The Pharisees and the Sadducees controlled the people just as we controlled them. But diplomacy is about letting everybody think it is their idea.

"Diplomacy is the art of telling people to go to hell in such a way that they ask for directions".

I had heard that this Jewish Rabbi had a lot of followers.

A rag tag bunch who had marched in with him the previous Sunday - the first day of the week - the day you call Palm Sunday.

His rag tag bunch was a mock assault on the temple. Marching in on a donkey - not a military animal.

And if I had any claim to be Messiah of Israel - the King of the Jews - they could have noticed him then.

Anointed him if they liked.

And my soldiers would have simply killed him and his followers.

But - diplomacy :)

I was there to keep the peace.

And I really didn’t mind killing to do it.

Keeping the Peace

So this man was brought before me.

He had already been roughed up.

And I was being asked to make a decision.

To support the decision of the Sanhedrin.

To have him killed.

They accused him of blasphemy - claiming to be a God.

And as such - claiming to be a King.

So I needed to know his story.

Are you the King of the Jews?

I asked him… “Are you the King of the Jews?”

John 18:33 NRSV

33 Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?”

This beaten up - bedraggled - slightly impoverished looking traveller Rabbi.

It made me laugh to think how worked up the Sanhedrin were over this man on a donkey with his rag tag bunch of followers.

This man with no weapons.

This man who seemed so meek and mild with no one to fight for him.

With no friends following him.

His followers scattered for fear of the Sanhedrin.

And behind my sly smile the threat of thousands of Roman soldiers who liked nothing more than a bit of a war - at my beck and call.

Besides this - our greatest weapon of intimidation - the Roman cross.

A method of publicly killing individuals by letting them die slowly on a cross for all to see.

“Are you the King of the Jews?”

I was making fun of him.

Normally on these occasions the victims break down in tears and repent - weeping I toss them to my guards for a beating. And the Sanhedrin will thank me for keeping the peace.

But this man answered my question.

I could have killed him right there and then.

John 18:34 NRSV

34 Jesus answered, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?”

It was early in the morning - I was woken up to deal with this seditious and cheeky Judean.

No one tells me what to think.

Your gospel writer summarises the content of my answer well… but I’m not sure he captures my frustration - my anger - and some of my more soldierly words to him:

John 18:35 NRSV

35 Pilate replied, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?”

I was trying to contain myself.

Trying to keep the peace.

Trying to be diplomatic.

You would think that having been roughed up and then dragged to me so early in the morning this rebel would have been a bit more humble.

I wanted him to see the position I was in.

I wanted him to acknowledge his guilt.

To see the trouble he was causing.

To say what he had done wrong.

I sometimes wished I was not the only one with the power to pass a death sentence. Then the Sanhedrin could have done their worst.

But I also know - that left to their own devices they would have so angered the poorest of the poor that there would have been an outright rebellion.

I needed to keep the taxes flowing.

On taxes I should tell you how much trouble there was when I taxed the temple treasury to build an aqueduct. There was a riot in Jerusalem.

But I digress.

Not of this world

Jesus answer was confusing:

John 18:36 NRSV

36 Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.”

Those who have travelled to Jerusalem will tell you that there is something strange about the place. I’m a practical man. A Roman Soldier.

But I think the air in Jerusalem had got to my head.

I’ve heard that your modern Psychiatrists - we didn’t have them in my day - speak of Jerusalem Syndrome.

Jerusalem syndrome is a rare mental illness that can affect people who visit Jerusalem, a holy city for many religions. Symptoms include: Obsessive religious thoughts, Delusions, Psychotic symptoms, and Identifying with a Bible character and behaving in ways that are typical of that character.

Or maybe this man’s head.

But there was something about him.

A sense of calm.

A sense of peace.

A lack of aggression.

A lack of fear.

As if he wasn’t acting on his own.

And it wasn’t the demeanour of a mad man who doesn’t know what is going on.

There I was with my soldiers behind me.

For a moment I had a sense of the angels behind him.

I’m not a religious man. I’m a soldier. But for a moment I felt a pang of existential panic.

Who was I - standing in judgment of this man?

Why wasn’t he panicking?

And why did his followers not cause a riot?

Why had they so peacefully disbursed?

“My kingdom is not from this world.”

My ‘king’ship of Jerusalem was not from Judea - it was from Rome. The only reason I had thousands of soldiers was my allegiance to Caesar. If I didn’t please him. If I stepped out of line - I would lose my power.

Abandoned by my soldiers - I’d be dead in the blink of an eye.

This prisoner had a sense of power that I could not understand.

He was either a mad man - or - I now realise - a king. I thought he was a mad man.

“So you are a king?”

John 18:37 (NRSV)

37 Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king.

I needed him to convict himself.

If I was to keep the peace of Jerusalem I needed him to say it - to show that he was a threat to the peace - and a leader of sedition. Sent to overthrow the Roman empire.

But I could see he posed no practical threat to me or my power.

I could kill him with a quick flick of my wrist - I had killed many like him in battle if they dared challenge me.

It was easy.

These days I simply pointed at people and my soldiers did the dirty work.

He was no physical threat to me.

But his words:

“My kingdom is not from this world.”

Worried me.

I was in my late 50s.

Old in my day.

All my power and all my authority - my identity - based on my work as Procurator of Judea and that was a difficult job.

The Sanhedrin weren’t happy - my position depended on my friendship with Tiberius. He was far away and I didn’t know if he was happy.

I was too old for a midlife crisis.

But I think I was having an existential crisis.

I was jealous of this simple - confident - gentle man from Nazareth and Bethlehem.

I didn’t understand the threat he posed.

But I felt it - not in my military might or power - but in something that hadn’t been engaged before.

My sense of being.

He went on:

John 18:37 (NRSV)

37 …For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”

Something about his voice.

His peace.

Unsettled me.

Here I was listening to the voice of Rome - to Caesar - to my Greed - to my power - and all that I held on to with all my might was fleeting.

Yet this Jesus seemed to be grounded in something bigger.

He knew who he was.

“For this I was born. For this I came into the world.”

My most famous line - I wish no one had heard. It was meant to be a whisper for no one else to hear.

I wanted an answer from this Jesus.

I was humbled.

I thought I knew everything.

But defeated.

As if I had been punched in the gut - I asked him:

John 18:38 (NRSV)

38 Pilate asked him, “What is truth?”

He didn’t answer me that day.

But I think the fact that today you still remember me.

Even if it is just to mark the date and history that defines his crucifixion when you say you creed. Is my answer.