Commentary on the Gospels

Trial by Roman Authorities

Matthew 27:1-31 and parallel passages
(Mark 15:1-20; Luke 23:1-25; John 18:28-19:16)

Pilate’s praetorium

At His trial before the Sanhedrin, Jesus was declared guilty of blasphemy, which, under Jewish law, was an offense punishable by death. But the Romans did not allow the Jews to administer capital punishment. To see Jesus executed, they had to obtain the cooperation of the Roman governor, Pilate. So, they personally conducted Jesus to the hall where Pilate sat in judgment (John 18:28).

Pilate’s actual title, according to an ancient inscription unearthed by archaeologists that probably dates from his time, was prefect of Judea.¹ Some first-century authors say that he was a procurator,² but this was evidently just a later name for the same office.³ His immediate superior was Lucius Lamia, legate of Syria, but for most of Pilate’s tenure, Lamia was missing from the region or inactive in Judean affairs, so that Pilate was free to govern as he wished.⁴

The expression "hall of judgment" translates the Greek form of the Latin word praetorium,⁵ which originally referred to the commander-in-chief’s tent in a Roman military camp, but later came to be used for the palace occupied by the governor of a Roman province.⁶ It is probable that like other Judean governors, Pilate spent considerable time in Caesarea,⁷ which was the administrative center of the province.⁸ There, a magnificent palace built by Herod served as his praetorium.⁹ But he also spent considerable time in Jerusalem, the ancient Judean capital.

Where Pilate had his praetorium in Jerusalem has provoked much debate. One strong tradition maintains that he resided in the Fortress of Antonia, set directly adjacent to the Temple on the western end of its north side.¹⁰ Besides a central tower about sixty feet high, there was a tower at each of the four corners, the one at the southeast rising more than a hundred feet. The location of the fortress allowed Roman soldiers to survey activity in the Temple so that they could respond quickly to any public disturbance. Yet the fortress was not merely a military outpost. Josephus has left a description of its luxurious features. "The interior resembled a palace in its spaciousness and appointments, being divided into apartments of every description and for every purpose, including cloisters, baths and broad courtyards for the accommodation of troops; so that from its possession of all conveniences it seemed a town, from its magnificence a palace."¹¹

The belief that this fortress served as a praetorium for Pilate was therefore very credible. Yet scholars in recent years have come to a virtual consensus that it is far more likely that Pilate resided at the palace built by Herod the Great,¹² which was a massive, ornate structure about one third of a mile directly west of the Temple.¹³ Josephus has also provided us with an intriguing description of this palace, doubtless the most magnificent structure in the city. He says that it was splendid to the extent of

. . . baffling all description: indeed, in extravagance and equipment no building surpassed it. It . . . contained immense banqueting-halls and bed-chambers for a hundred guests. The interior fittings are indescribable—the variety of the stones (for species rare in every other country were here collected in abundance), ceilings wonderful both for the length of the beams and the splendour of their surface decoration, the host of apartments with their infinite varieties of design, all amply furnished, while most of the objects in each of them were of silver or gold. All around were many circular cloisters, leading one into another, the columns in each being different, and their open courts all of greensward; there were groves of various trees intersected by long walks, which were bordered by deep canals, and ponds everywhere studded with bronze figures, through which the water was discharged, and around the streams were numerous cots for tame pigeons.¹⁴

In recent years, scholars have assembled many reasons for placing Pilate’s praetorium at the former palace of Herod.

1. The ancient writer Philo testifies that when Pilate was governor of Judea, he stirred up great antagonism among Jews because he placed in Herod’s Palace some gold plated shields displaying words of dedication to the emperor. These greatly offended the Jews because, as richly adorned objects with no purpose except to revere a mere man, they were seen as idolatrous. It seems likely that he placed these shields in the palace because it served as his praetorium when he visited Jerusalem.¹⁵ In fact, Philo identifies the palace as the house of the governor.¹⁶
2. Josephus records that when a later Roman procurator of Judea, Gessius Florus (ca. AD 64-66), went to Jerusalem, he "took up his quarters at the palace; and . . . had his tribunal set before it, and sat upon it."¹⁷
3. Mark places Pilate’s praetorium at the "hall" (Mark 15:16), translation of aulos,¹⁸ a common term for palace.¹⁹ It is so translated by the King James Version of Matthew 26:3.²⁰ Josephus uses the same word with reference to a governor’s residence in Jerusalem that was distinct from the Fortress of Antonia. He is evidently pointing to Herod’s Palace.²¹

This palace was a magnificent complex about 1000 feet long and 200 feet wide that was enclosed by an elegant wall 45 feet high, punctuated at regular intervals by small towers.²² Inside, along a north-south axis were two regal buildings facing each other across an open space where walkways were richly adorned on either hand with beautiful trees, gardens, and ponds. Behind the building at the north end was a fortress displaying three imposing towers. The tallest of these, known as Phasael, was perhaps about 135 feet tall,²³ higher than any tower in the Fortress of Antonia.²⁴ Since the palace as a whole was situated at a high point in the city, even a hundred feet higher than the Temple Mount, these towers must have dominated the skyline.²⁵

The first session of Jesus’ trial before Pilate

When the religious leaders conducting Jesus through the city reached Pilate’s praetorium, they did not enter it. A good Jew avoided going into a house of gentiles or into a public building frequented by gentiles because the result was to make himself unclean.²⁶ The primary reason is that hidden within or buried underneath this kind of structure might be some remains of a dead body, such as a miscarriage or abortion. Yet there was also the possibility of seeing an idol or of touching a person who was an idol worshipper.²⁷ In the absence of any encounter that surely made him unclean, the defilement of a Jew who had ventured into a gentile building lasted only until evening.²⁸ The religious leaders stayed outside the praetorium because the uncleanness they would acquire by going inside would make them ineligible to "eat the Passover" (John 18:28). One implication of John’s account is that staying outside was not their general practice. Uncleanness lasting only a few hours did not usually deter them from proceeding through the doors.

Some scholars have taken the position that when the religious leaders came to the praetorium, they declined even to pass through the outer gate into the richly adorned open space between the two main buildings. But the whole complex was a palace built by a Jewish king. Therefore, it is unlikely that this space originally contained idols, and given the public outrage when Pilate merely brought into the palace some golden shields with brief inscriptions, it is unlikely that idols were later introduced by Roman governors. It is therefore more probable that after passing through the outer gate, the religious leaders merely declined to go inside the building where Pilate sat as governor. The term "praetorium" must therefore have limited reference to this building. If we have truly found its intended meaning, "judgment hall" qualifies as a good translation.

Pilate, who was well aware of the Jewish custom dictating their behavior, condescended to leave the praetorium and meet them outside (John 18:29). Perhaps he stood on a covered platform at the entrance. Jesus, doubtless in the hands of Temple guards, was brought to stand before him (Matt. 27:11).

With a voice of blunt and brutal authority, Pilate, who evidently had been alerted by Jewish authorities that they would soon be delivering a dangerous criminal for judgment, asked them, "What accusation bring ye against this man?" (John 18:29). They responded at first with a note of sarcasm, showing that their relationship with the Roman governor was somewhat tense. They said, "If he were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered him up unto thee" (John 18:30). Then they shouted out their charge against Jesus. "We found this fellow perverting the nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Caesar, saying that he himself is Christ a King" (Luke 23:2). They said nothing about blasphemy, of course, because blasphemy against the God of Israel was no crime under Roman law. Rather, they charged Jesus with three crimes that Pilate could not ignore. The vague accusation that He was "perverting the nation" probably meant that He was leading the nation away from submission to Rome. The other two accusations were far more specific: that He forbade payment of taxes to Caesar and that He styled Himself a king. The three charges together amounted to the single charge of sedition, which is the attempt to raise violent opposition to a legitimate government. It was a crime viewed by the Romans as deserving capital punishment. So, the Jewish leaders were hoping that Pilate would simply accept the verdict proceeding from their trial of Jesus and, without any further discussion, send Him to death on a cross. For reasons we will discuss later, they thought that Pilate was in no position to oppose their will.

In response to the grave charges against Jesus that these Jewish leaders loudly proclaimed, Pilate turned to the man accused and asked Him a simple question, "Art thou the King of the Jews" (Matt. 27:11; Mark 15:2; Luke 23:3). His answer probably surprised Pilate. He said forthrightly, "Thou sayest it" (Matt. 27:11; Mark 15:2; Luke 23:3). In other words, "Yes, I am." But in reply to the other two charges mentioned by Luke as well as to any other charges that may have been leveled against Him, He declined to offer words of either confession or denial. He kept silent (Matt. 27:12; Mark 15:3). Pilate pressed Him for answers (Matt. 27:13; Mark 15:4), but still He gave "never a word" (Matt. 27:14; cf. Mark 15:5). Why? Because it was unnecessary for Him to refute false charges that were unproven, whereas to keep silent in response to a true charge would have amounted to a denial; in other words, it would have been a form of lying. Besides, the fact that He was King of the Jews did not necessarily mark Him as a rebel against Roman authority. Someone who has received a kingly title either by inheritance or by the assent of his subjects can nevertheless position himself below a king or emperor over many nations.

Jesus’ silence in the face of vicious attacks caused Pilate to marvel (Matt. 27:14; Mark 15:5). Here was no belligerent Jew, no street agitator quick to raise a shrill voice of self-justification, no apostle of hatred. Here was a quiet man, full of peace and patience. His very quietness was the best possible answer to the accusation that He stirred up the people. The prophet Isaiah had long ago foreseen this moment. "He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth" (Isa. 53:7). To understand the attitude that Pilate assumed toward Jesus, we must consider prior relations between this Roman governor and the Jewish leaders. They knew that he did not respect their religious laws or their position of dominance over the Jewish people. At the same time, he knew that they resented Roman control of Jewish society. Also, he knew perfectly well that they were petty politicians using the mask of religion to justify their exercise of power and privilege. It was obvious to him that the man they had brought for judgment was a far superior kind of person. Although He claimed to be a king, He did not have a haughty spirit. He spoke with a quiet voice that resonated in Pilate’s conscience. In the face of death, He stood with a fearless and loving face that stirred in Pilate’s heart a degree of respect that he had never felt for any other man. Therefore, having satisfied himself that Rome had no reason to kill Jesus, he decided that he would declare the man innocent.

He announced to the Jewish leaders outside the judgment hall that he found "no fault in this man" (Luke 23:4). "Take ye him, and judge him according to your law" (John 18:31). In essence, he was throwing back their accusations against Jesus as unfounded. The response of the Jewish leaders was to protest, "It is not lawful for us to put any man to death" (John 18:31). The Jewish leaders were so surprised by Pilate’s refusal to cooperate that they became furious and desperate, for now they had to find an accusation that Pilate would take seriously. Frustration made them "more fierce" (Luke 23:5), and from their angry mouths spilled out the insistent cry that Jesus truly undermined the stability of Jewish society, and that therefore He was indeed a threat to the established order under Roman government. They claimed that He had stirred up the people throughout the country, from Galilee in the north to Judea in the south (Luke 23:5). It was true that Jesus attracted multitudes wherever He went, but they came not to hear words of rebellion, but to see miracles and hear profound teaching spoken with authority, unlike the teaching of the scribes (Matt. 7:29). Thus, in claiming that He had caused political unrest, they were telling a lie.

Then, without perceiving the significance in what they were saying, the same enemies of Jesus mentioned casually that He had been active in Galilee. Instantly, Pilate saw a way out of his dilemma and asked whether Jesus was a Galilean (Luke 23:6). Although he must have known something about Jesus, his sources of intelligence had apparently informed him only about Jesus’ doings in Judea. Perhaps they had not brought Jesus to Pilate’s attention before His triumphal entry to the city less than a week ago. Why was Jesus’ place of origin important? Because it raised the issue of jurisdiction. If Jesus was a Galilean charged with treasonous activity while He was still in Galilee, He could be tried before Herod, tetrarch of Galilee, rather than before Pilate. Pilate therefore seized his opportunity to be rid of an extremely troublesome case—a case that he could not resolve without negative consequences. If he caved in to the Jewish rulers, he would violate his own respect for Jesus and increase the power of men he hated. If he resisted them, he would incur their wrath and risk a complaint to Caesar. Therefore, he sent Jesus to Herod, who happened to be in Jerusalem at this time (Luke 23:7).

Jesus’ trial before Herod

Where Herod and his courtiers were staying in Jerusalem is unknown. But a good guess is that Roman authorities granted him the right whenever he visited Jerusalem to occupy, as if it were his own residence, the second most magnificent dwelling in Jerusalem, the Hasmonean Palace, which was located between Herod’s Palace and the Temple.²⁹ This had been the local residence of many kings in the Hasmonean dynasty, which ruled Judea from 166 BC to 37 BC, when it was supplanted by the kingdom of Herod the Great.³⁰

Given the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ trial, a casual reader might wonder how all of it could have been completed within the early morning of His crucifixion if, as it was proceeding, Jesus made several trips through the city. But none of these consumed a long period of time. The Temple was 800 m from Herod’s Palace, which was 400 m from the Hasmonean Palace.³¹ Therefore, the total distance that Jesus covered when He went from the first place to the second and then back and forth between the second and the third was only about a kilometer, which can usually be traversed in much less than an hour.

The Herod who periodically occupied the Hasmonean Palace was a Roman puppet who ruled as tetrarch over Galilee. Known as Herod Antipas, he was a son of the Herod who had massacred the babies in Bethlehem. His title meant that he was one step lower than a king. He was well versed in the Scriptures and in Jewish beliefs and for many years had struggled with whether he should place his own faith in the God of Israel. When John the Baptist denounced his marriage to a sister-in-law, Herod put him in prison, yet he enjoyed hearing John preach, and he executed the prophet only when his wife tricked him into giving his consent (Mark 6:17-29). Later, when Herod heard about the ministry of Jesus, he thought that John had risen from the dead (Mark 6:14-16). Herod must have feared that Jesus’ popularity in Galilee would become known to the Romans and make the ruler of Galilee a target of criticism, for he apparently hired Pharisees to threaten Jesus (Luke 13:32). Jesus brushed off the threat, calling Herod a sly fox. He knew that the Pharisees were speaking not for themselves, but for Herod, and that the threat was only bluster. Herod had suffered enough loss of public support by his treatment of John. He did not intend to antagonize the people further by arresting another man they viewed as a prophet.

After Jesus was brought to Herod’s Palace by a troop of soldiers accompanied by a large delegation of Jewish rulers, the tetrarch of Galilee was delighted to see Jesus. He had heard much about Him and hoped to see a miracle (Luke 23:8). But Jesus gave him no satisfaction. He did nothing at all, and He said nothing at all when Herod put Him through lengthy questioning (Luke 23:9). All the while, the chief priests and scribes stood by and fired vehement accusations at Jesus (Luke 23:10).

Why did Jesus remain silent? Herod was also a legitimate ruler, with authority to interrogate Him. He had given the Jewish court an answer to the question which was their proper concern—whether He was the Christ, the Son of God. He said, "Yes, I am." But He said nothing in self-defense either before Pilate or Herod because it was unnecessary for Him to refute false and thus unprovable charges that he was some kind of political agitator.

Yet Jesus treated Herod in a rather different manner than He treated Pilate. Pilate was a gentile who had not learned from childhood about the Hebrew Scriptures. He was untutored in the law of God and unfamiliar with God’s workings in history. Later in His trial, Jesus would reach out to Pilate and reveal that His names were Christ and God. But with Herod, Jesus kept silent. He made no overture of witness to overcome this man’s unbelief. Why not? Because Herod was already conversant with Scripture and Jewish religion, and he had often heard the truth. One of his playfellows during childhood was Manaen, later a prominent member of the church in Antioch and perhaps from a God-fearing family (Acts 13:1). Moreover, Herod had already received many chances to repent of his sins. John the Baptist, Jesus’ cousin, had stood before Herod and preached to him (Mark 6:20), but instead of heeding John, he killed him. So it is obvious that God’s longsuffering patience and mercy toward every sinner was nearly exhausted in Herod’s case. Herod was stubbornly clinging to unbelief even though he was well informed about the teaching, the miracles, and the claims of Jesus. Herod’s steward was a man named Chuza, whose wife, Joanna, was one of the principal financial supporters of Jesus’ ministry (Luke 8:3).

When Jesus appeared before him, Herod had no doubt heard that this teacher from Nazareth could perform miracles. How could he imagine that a false Christ, a liar and deceiver, could also be a miracle worker? He must have believed the scurrilous gossip being circulated by the Pharisees that Jesus was a sorcerer who cast out devils and who doubtless accomplished His other miracles as well by the power of Beelzebub; that is, Satan (Matt. 10:25; 12:24). It is hard for us in the modern world to grasp the power of superstition in the ancient world. Both the lowly and the great in Jesus’ day really believed that a man could do marvelous miracles just by magic, apart from God’s help.

After finding that Jesus would not do or say anything to entertain the court, Herod at last decided to make sport of Him (Luke 23:11). He knew that Jesus claimed to be the Messiah, the man the Jews expected to defeat their enemies and ascend the throne of David. But the contrast between Jesus’ lofty claims and His pitiful appearance when He stood as a prisoner before Herod made Herod laugh. He and his soldiers mocked Jesus and "set Him at nought." Here is one of the many fulfillments of prophecy that lie hidden in the Gospels. They were treating Jesus just as He said He would be treated (Mark 9:12); also, just as the prophet Daniel said He would be treated (Daniel 9:26; "but not for himself" should be translated "made nothing of."

To make the joke even funnier, Herod turned Jesus into a parody of Himself by dressing Him in a gorgeous robe, suitable for a king. We can imagine that Herod and his men were highly amused to see such a robe adorning a mere carpenter from the backwaters of Galilee who called Himself a king. Then, even though Herod had the authority to condemn and execute Jesus,³² he sent Jesus back to Pilate. Why? Probably because Herod was reluctant to stir up more antagonism to his regime by executing a man who was highly revered by many Galileans. Previously, Herod and Pilate had been feuding for reasons unknown. But from now on, after each deferred to the other as having jurisdiction in Jesus’ case, they were good friends (Luke 23:12).

Jesus’ first private audience with Pilate

After a detail of soldiers escorted Jesus back to the fortress, Pilate learned that he could not avoid passing judgment on this man. Yet he was unwilling to immediately recall Jewish leaders for public deliberation of His case. First, he wanted to engage Jesus in private discussion. Why?

It is likely that after Pilate sent Jesus to Herod, Pilate had been seeking more information about this teacher from Galilee. The Gospel writers inform us that when Jesus returned, Pilate understood that the reason behind the Jewish leaders’ determination to eliminate Jesus was envy (Matt. 27:18; Mark 15:10). Perhaps it was during Jesus’ absence that Pilate learned from his sources why these leaders were so fanatically opposed to Jesus. They hated Him because this uneducated upstart from Galilee who did not shrink from exposing their hypocrisies enjoyed more popular support than they did. But Jesus’ low standing in the eyes of the Jewish leaders did not alienate Pilate from Jesus, for the Roman governor knew full well that the same leaders hated him. As a result, their view of Jesus stirred up sympathy in Pilate’s heart for this religious teacher.

Moreover, he had never before encountered a man like Jesus. The impact of His quiet but commanding presence, of His loving spirit, and of the few but deeply resonant words that came from His mouth doubtless weighed heavily upon Pilate’s soul. What did Jesus mean when He claimed to be a king? Who was He, really? Pilate therefore summoned Jesus to appear before him inside the judgment hall, while the Jewish leaders waited outside (John 18:33).

As he proceeded to examine Jesus, Pilate focused on Jesus’ claim to be a king and ignored many of the other charges brought against Him. The reason may be that after consulting reports from spies in the city, Pilate learned that the other allegations against Jesus were frivolous or false. Perhaps he even knew about the incident in the Temple a few days earlier when Jesus sidestepped a trick question by stating, "Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s; and unto God the things that are God’s" (Matt. 22:21). But after hearing Jesus’ words earlier in the day, Pilate could not set aside the possibility that Jesus aspired to the throne. Since one avenue to kingship would require him to displace the Romans, Pilate had to find out what Jesus’ intentions were. At least by now, Pilate had learned the indisputable fact that He was presenting Himself to the people as a great teacher and miracle worker. What were His motives? If He was trying to win mass support so that He could lead a revolt against Rome, the Romans had to recognize Him as a threat and put Him out of the way. So, Pilate asked Jesus, "Art thou the King of the Jews?" (John 18:33). Yet it is very unlikely that Pilate was merely probing whether Jesus was an ordinary rabble-rouser with political ambitions. On the contrary, there can be little doubt that the Holy Spirit had quickened in Pilate’s heart a sharp sense that the man standing before him might be no ordinary man, that His claims might have a dimension embracing a much larger reality than man’s visible world, that in fact the God of the Jews might exist and that Jesus might be His superhuman spokesman known as the Messiah. After all, Pilate had lived long enough among the Jews to be well acquainted with their religious beliefs.

Jesus’ first answer seems evasive. "Sayest thou this thing of thyself, or did others tell it thee of me?" (John 18:34), but He was merely testing Pilate’s level of spiritual hunger and spiritual understanding. He was asking Pilate whether he was merely parroting one charge brought by the rulers, or whether he had already been debating in his own mind the possibility that Jesus would be elevated to kingship by God Himself. Jesus would not have asked the question if He had not perceived that Pilate had indeed given serious thought to Jesus’ claims. If Pilate had confessed a longing for spiritual truth, the conversation would have taken a different course. As He did with Nicodemus a few years earlier, Jesus would have given Pilate knowledge and grace leading to the salvation of his soul (John 3:1–21).

But Pilate stiffened up and refused to continue down the path of a seeker. In his mind, going that way probably seemed too risky and too lacking in justification by sound arguments. So, he replied contemptuously that he was not a Jew (John 18:35). He implied that only the Jews were foolish enough to look for a king sent from God. He added with a touch of scorn that Jesus’ own nation had rejected Him and turned Him over to the Romans for punishment. Therefore, by implication, any pretense that He was king of the Jews was preposterous. Pilate then probed Jesus for information as to why the nation rejected Him. "What hast thou done?" (John 18:35).

We have already shown that Jesus was always careful to comply with a person in authority, recognizing that all authority comes from God (Rom, 13:1). Here was a proper question from a legitimate ruler. The Roman governor had both a right and a responsibility to stop anyone seeking to overthrow the government. Therefore, because the righteous Son of God could not take the part of a rebel, Jesus answered the man’s questions clearly and completely. He stated, "My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews" (John 18:36). In essence, He was saying, "Yes, I am a king, but not as you understand the term. I am not trying to take your place. If I were, my followers would have fought to prevent my arrest." Then for emphasis He repeated Himself in slightly different words, "But now is my kingdom not from hence [that is, from here]" (John 18:36). He was making it clear that He was no rival to any earthly ruler.

Yet He did not explain where His kingdom was. For what reason? He was inviting Pilate to pursue knowledge of God by asking more questions. But Pilate evinced no curiosity at all as to the meaning of the mystery in Jesus’ words. He refused to go off track from a narrow line of inquiry about Jesus’ guilt under Roman law. Instead of asking, "Where is your kingdom?" or "How can you be a king elsewhere if you are here?" or anything of the same sort, such as you or I might have asked Jesus, Pilate persisted with the original question, "Art thou a king then?" (John 18:37).

Jesus did not dodge it. He answered, "Thou sayest that I am a king" (John 18:37). In other words, "As you have said, I am a king." He added, "To this end was I born" (John 18:37). He meant that He was born with the right of kingship already resting upon Him. When it was time for Him to exercise kingship, He would not rise up as a usurper of anyone else’s rightful place. Rather, He would take what already belonged to Him. Among many other profound implications, He was denying the charge of sedition. Then Jesus also said that to assume kingship was the reason that He came into this world. In mercy, Jesus was answering the question that Pilate failed to ask. By informing Pilate that He, Jesus, existed before He was born, He was revealing where His kingdom was. His preexistence showed that He was God. Therefore, His kingdom was the kingdom of heaven. Jesus concluded with a warning. He said, "For this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth. Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice" (John 18:37). He was challenging Pilate to break out of his rigid box as inquisitor and judge and to become Jesus’ disciple, to set himself down at Jesus’ feet and learn.

But stiffened up by all his Roman pride, Pilate could not bend. To humble himself before Jesus, an itinerant rabbi of the Jews who had been arrested as a common agitator, was unthinkable for such a man. He could never identify himself with weakness. And Jesus in bonds, with marks of abuse already upon Him, was the picture of weakness.

Pilate closed the interview with the sarcastic question, "What is truth?" (John 18:38). Here was one of history’s saddest examples of cynicism rooted in egotism. He was talking to the Being who described His own essence as truth (John 14:6). If Pilate never in later years saw his immeasurable folly in rejecting Jesus’ claims, Pilate’s grief throughout eternity will be that when he stood before the One who is all truth, he denied that truth exists.

The second session of Jesus’ trial before Pilate

When Jesus was brought back from Herod’s Palace, the Jewish leaders evidently did not go directly to Pilate’s judgment hall, but scattered to manage other affairs, perhaps on the assumption that Pilate would surely complete the process of condemning and punishing Jesus. But they were wrong. A short while later, when it was still rather early in the morning, he recalled them to the fortress (Luke 23:13; John 18:38). With them came a large crowd of people. Jesus’ trial before a closed session of the Sanhedrin had been conducted early in the morning without any prior notice being given to the people of Jerusalem. But now that He had been marched back and forth through the streets, news that He was on trial was evidently racing through the city, and people were flocking to the fortress to find out what was happening. Very likely the priests had summoned their students and other supporters to join them so that their case against Jesus would receive strong backing from many other voices.

When Pilate emerged from the judgment hall and spoke to all the Jews standing outside, he announced that both he and Herod found Jesus innocent of sedition, the charge brought by the high priests, and also of any other capital offense (Luke 23:14–15; John 18:38). Pilate then made two offers that he hoped would placate Jesus’ enemies while sparing His life. Although reluctant to concede in his heart that Jesus was an actual spokesman for God, he still could see plainly enough that Jesus was a good man being victimized by petty priests.

First, he offered to chastise Jesus—that is, to put Him under the Roman lash, a vicious punishment that reduced a man to near death (Luke 23:16). He hoped that such a cruel measure would appease their appetite for blood. Surely they would accept scourging as sufficient, for it would eliminate any threat Jesus might pose either to the Jewish leaders or to the Romans. The people would hardly continue viewing Him as a great man from God if He could not even prevent His enemies from taking and punishing Him.

Pilate’s second offer, based on his custom of releasing a Jewish prisoner every Passover, was to exempt Jesus from capital punishment and set Him free (Matt. 27:15; Mark 15:6; Luke 23:16–17; John 18:39). The custom of releasing a prisoner was a gesture of good will, designed to reduce Jewish displeasure with Roman rulers and to calm the anger and frustration of a conquered nation. The Jewish leaders always welcomed the gesture because it was an admission by the Roman governor that he could not altogether ignore Jewish public opinion. This admission implied that he also could not altogether ignore the wishes of the Jewish leaders.

But the people in the crowd did not respond by shouting approval of Jesus’ release. Apparently some voices began to tell Pilate that instead he should release a criminal named Barabbas. Who was he? Barabbas was in custody because he had committed serious crimes, including murder and sedition (Matt. 27:16; Mark 15:7–8; Luke 23:19). Perhaps he was a Zealot, a member of the radical political faction that played a large role in provoking the Romans to destroy Jerusalem in AD 70.³³

Pilate’s response was not to reject the possibility of releasing Barabbas. Rather, he responded to the voices urging his release by giving the Jews a choice. He said, "Whom will ye that I release unto you? Barabbas, or Jesus which is called Christ?" (Matt. 27:17). Moreover, he explicitly identified Jesus as the "King of the Jews" (Mark 15:9; John 18:39). Why did he attach these titles to Jesus’ name as if He had some legitimate claim to them? He was countering the pressure that Jewish leaders were bringing on the people to call for Jesus’ execution. He was trying to make Jesus a more attractive figure in the eyes of the masses. Why was Pilate adopting this strategy? As we showed earlier, he understood that Jesus enjoyed popular support to an extent that made the Jewish leaders jealous (Matt. 27:18; Mark 15:10). Pilate was therefore trying to bolster popular support for Jesus and thus spare Him from the cross. As we said earlier, Pilate had come to understand that Jesus was a threat to no one but the Jewish leaders. Why then did Pilate fail to declare Jesus innocent? Why was he displaying such weakness as to withhold true justice, even the kind of justice that his own heart approved? Why had weakness so overtaken him that he went so far in his attempt to please the Jews, both the leaders and their followers, that he even stated his willingness to release a man like Barabbas?

For the answer we must consider the historical context. In AD 26, when Pilate was given his post in Judaea,³⁴ the emperor Tiberius relied heavily upon a certain Sejanus to manage the everyday affairs of government.³⁵ It is therefore likely that Pilate was the choice of Sejanus. According to the Jewish writer Philo, this Sejanus was strongly anti-Jewish,³⁶ so it is not surprising that his appointee Pilate was, during his earlier years in office, severely repressive of the Jews. On several occasions, Pilate deliberately offended Jewish religious scruples, and at least once he severely punished those who opposed him.³⁷ On one occasion, when Pilate took money from the Temple to pay for an aqueduct that he was building, a large mass of Jews gathered to voice their objections. He then released his soldiers to beat whoever stood in protest, and as a result, many were either cudgeled or trampled to death.³⁸ Another instance of Pilate’s cruelty is mentioned in Luke’s Gospel, which speaks of Pilate mingling the blood of some Galileans with their sacrifices (Luke 13:1).

But in the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ trial, we see a different Pilate. Instead of standing firm in his desire to release Jesus, he meekly bows to pressure from the Jewish leaders to crucify Him. What accounts for his inconsistent behavior? The best explanation notices the political climate in Rome. In late AD 31, Sejanus was put to death after he was discovered plotting against the emperor.³⁹ As a result, any official associated with Sejanus must have found himself under suspicion and in danger of dismissal or even worse forms of censure. Pilate was in particular danger because he had so frequently stirred up unrest among the people under his authority and because, after Sejanus’s death, the emperor adopted a new policy toward the Jews, a policy of conciliation rather than repression.⁴⁰ In fact, Pilate survived in office only until AD 36.⁴¹

By identifying Jesus as Christ and King, Pilate was trying to persuade the crowd that the man who deserved release was not Barabbas, but Jesus. Yet his ploy did not succeed. The crowd "cried out all at once, saying, ‘Away with this man, and release unto us Barabbas’" (Luke 23:18; cf. Mark 15:11 and John 18:40). Perhaps Pilate had consented to Barabbas as the alternative to Jesus because he thought that the crowd, even the Jewish rulers, would surely prefer Jesus, a peaceful man rather than a murderous rebel against authority, who might someday redefine his enemies to include the current leaders of the nation.

Why did these leaders prefer Barabbas? Did they not realize that Pilate and even many Jews might see them as hypocrites? On the one hand, they wanted a dangerous criminal to go free, while on the other hand they demanded the execution of someone who, instead of killing people, had healed many with terrible afflictions and had even restored life to some who had died. But the Jewish leaders were not concerned about their public image. They were simply playing a game of power politics. To get rid of Jesus they had to choose Barabbas for release, and they were sure that as a result, Pilate would be unable to shrink away from the crowd’s demand that he lay a sentence of death upon the teacher from Galilee.

Also, the Jewish rulers knew that some of the common people looked upon a rebel like Barabbas as a hero in the cause of Jewish freedom, even as a noble patriot. Thus, to succeed in freeing him from jail might win the rulers more respect in some quarters of society. So they cried, "Release unto us Barabbas." But notice the irony in what they were saying. Barabbas means "son of the father."⁴² Whose father was Barabbas? According to Jesus, the father of all unregenerate men is the devil (John 8:44). An especially clear example of a devil’s son was this Barabbas, who was an insurrectionist with the instincts of a wild beast. So, in effect, the rulers were clamoring for Pilate to release a filthy son of the devil rather than the righteous Son of God.

Pilate’s ruling from his judgment seat

You can be sure that Pilate was not eager to put Barabbas on the streets again. Nevertheless, he saw no alternative, and he sat down on his judgment seat, his bema, to render a final verdict (Matt. 27:19). Many references to a bema in ancient literature obviously refer to a portable seat that could be placed wherever was most convenient for a trial, and on this occasion it was evidently brought outside the praetorium.⁴³ But before Pilate could announce his decision concerning the fate of Jesus, he received a message from his wife. Perhaps she was an important person in her own right. An ancient tradition supposes that she belonged to a family in the upper crust of Roman society and that Pilate’s early promotions were, in part, the result of his connections with her family.⁴⁴ This tradition may not preserve true history, yet it is evident in Matthew’s account that she felt free to give her husband advice.

The purpose of her message was to tell Pilate that her sleep during the previous night had been disrupted by a very troubling dream about Jesus, a dream that caused her to suffer "many things . . . because of Him" (Matt. 27:19). No doubt Pilate understood her to mean that they would suffer terrible consequences if he consented to Jesus’ death. Affirming that Jesus was a "just man" (Matt. 27:19), she pleaded with her husband to take no part in condemning Him.

What had she known about Jesus before He came to trial? It appears that before the Jewish leaders arrested Jesus in the Garden, they conversed with Pilate and obtained his consent to add some Roman soldiers to the party of men who would be sent at night to accomplish this task. Perhaps news of what was going to happen to Jesus also came to Pilate’s wife, the likely source being Pilate himself. Whether she had previously heard about Jesus is, of course, a matter of speculation, but perhaps she had been aware of His ministry long before He came to her husband’s attention. He was famous throughout Palestine and even in some places beyond its borders. Her comments showed that she admired Him as a man outstanding for practicing and teaching true righteousness. What was the source of her dream? Since it exalted Christ and pointed to the grave danger in standing with Christ's enemies, there can be no doubt that the dream was a warning from the Holy Spirit. Both Scripture and church history provide many examples of our loving God using dreams to reveal vital truth to people who would otherwise be deprived of His guidance.⁴⁵ Consider, for example, the dream that warned the wise men to leave Judea quickly, without revisiting Herod (Matt. 2:12).

To be humble before God was probably easier for Pilate’s wife, with a woman’s softness, than it was for Pilate, whose exercise of raw power for many years had left him hard and proud. Nevertheless, as a result of the message coming from his wife, Pilate’s doubts about cooperating with the Jewish leaders greatly intensified, and he returned to the large gathering of people outside the hall with a renewed determination to let Jesus go. He again asked which of the prisoners he should release (Matt. 27:20–21; Luke 23:20), and again they insisted on Barabbas. He asked what he should do with Jesus. Again, he identified Jesus as their Christ and King (Matt. 27:22; Mark 15:12). No doubt he was still hoping that they might relent and accept something less than the death penalty. Yet what they wanted was not only death, but death by the grisliest method of execution ever devised: crucifixion. "Crucify Him," they screamed (Matt. 27:22; Mark 15:13; Luke 23:21). Crucifixion was what the Romans normally inflicted on any capital offender who was not a Roman citizen. Yet the Jewish leaders could have requested permission to kill Jesus by stoning, the mode of execution that God prescribed in Jewish law because it was far more humane than many other modes used in the ancient world. And if Pilate saw Jesus as guiltless of violating Roman law, he was free to authorize Jesus’ punishment according to Jewish law. But the Jewish rulers wanted Jesus to suffer the worst possible death. In response to the crowd’s demand that Jesus be sent to a cross, Pilate protested, "Why, what evil hath he done? I have found no cause of death in him: I will therefore chastise him, and let him go" (Luke 23:22; cf. Matt. 27:23; Mark 15:14). Luke tells us that this was the third time he pleaded on Jesus’ behalf. The first time by Luke’s reckoning was evidently before Pilate heard that Jesus was a Galilean (Luke 23:4). The second time was after Jesus came back from Herod’s Palace (Luke 23:13–15). The third time was right after he received the message from his wife (Luke 23:20–22). But he could not overturn their hostility to Jesus. The more he tried to reason with them, the louder they cried (Matt. 27:23; Mark 15:14; Luke 23:22). Finally, their voices prevailed (Luke 23:23).

Who was the mob outside the judgment hall? Some accounts of Jesus’ ordeal and death say that the people who called for His crucifixion on Friday morning were the same ones who welcomed Him into the city on the previous Sunday, which we know as Palm Sunday. But in Jerusalem during feast time, there was a vast multitude of people, perhaps numbering in hundreds of thousands, and among them were Jews representing all shades of opinion and loyalty. After Jesus was taken to the Roman judgment hall early in the morning (probably around 7:00 AM since sunrise was around 6:30⁴⁶), probably few people stood with Him in the courtyard besides the rulers themselves and their entourage of soldiers and servants. But, as we pointed out earlier, when Pilate surprised them by resisting their will, they must have sent out their underlings to gather a crowd of supporters. By the time Jesus came back from Herod, the courtyard was filled with a yelling mob, raising their voices to back up every demand of the high priests.

Pilate became afraid that if he continued to insist on Jesus’ innocence, the crowd would work itself up into a frenzy. Soon he might have a riot to deal with. The last thing Pilate wanted was to provoke any public disturbance, because he had already incurred the wrath of Caesar for his harsh treatment of the Jews on earlier occasions. To put down a riot now, he would probably have no option but to call out his troops and shed more Jewish blood. So, to save himself from further trouble, Pilate gave the Jewish rulers what they wanted. He agreed to have Jesus crucified (Matt. 27:24; Luke 23:24). Yet this did not prove to be a final decision. As we follow the story, we will discover that later he again tried to deliver Jesus from the cross.

Nevertheless, in his capitulation to what the Jewish leaders demanded, did he listen to his wife? No, but to satisfy her and salve his own conscience, he called for a basin of water and washed his hands before the crowd. By this gesture he declared that he accepted no responsibility for Jesus’ death, that the blame lay wholly on the Jewish leaders, for they forced him to condemn a man against his better judgment (Matt. 27:24). His attempt to escape blame was, of course, futile in God’s eyes. Pilate could not absolve himself just by washing his hands. The fact that will be remembered when he meets God in judgment is not that he washed his hands, but that he, a Roman governor under no coercion equal to the power of Rome, consented to Jesus’ death.

The mob was more than willing to accept responsibility. They cried out, "His blood be on us, and on our children" (Matt. 27:25). If they could have seen what would happen less than forty years later, when the Jewish nation rebelled against Rome and expelled the Romans, they would not have been so ready to invite the wrath of God. The Romans reconquered the land with ruthless efficiency. After fighting inch by inch to retake Galilee, the Roman military machine pushed on to Jerusalem and besieged it. A few months later, they stormed the city and slaughtered the thousands who had taken refuge there. According to the Jewish historian Josephus, an eyewitness of the Roman conquest of Judea and Jerusalem, the toll of Jewish casualties in the holocaust exceeded one million.⁴⁷ Many of the ninety-seven thousand survivors were sent to arenas around the Mediterranean, where by various gruesome deaths they provided entertainment for the sadistic Roman rabble.⁴⁸ The toll evidently did not include members of the church in Jerusalem and Judea because, according to the ancient Christian writer Eusebius, they fled when Roman armies invaded their land and settled among gentiles east of Jordan. He says that they knew from prophecy that the city would be destroyed.⁴⁹

Jesus warned that this horror would come upon the Jews because they rejected their Messiah (Matt. 21:33-41; 22:2-7; Luke 23:28-31). Many Jews today say that in our portrayal of Jews as Christ-killers, we Christians are guilty of antisemitism—that is, of expressing hatred for Jews. No, if we were antisemitic, we would never have accepted Jesus, a Jew, as our Lord and Master. Nor would we be proud of our descent from the early church, whose first leaders and members were all Jews. We do teach that some Jews—the Jewish leaders and their supporters—conspired to kill Jesus, and we teach also that the nation as a whole threw off God’s protection from its enemies by failing to acknowledge Jesus as their Christ.

But we do not blame Jews only for Christ’s death. We know that it was a gentile, the Roman governor Pilate, who authorized the Crucifixion. Yet so far, we have identified only a minute fraction of those responsible for this atrocity. In a truly accurate picture of all who bear guilt, we see that blame falls upon the entire human race. We are all Christ-killers, for two reasons. 1) Apart from the grace of God, any of us would have acted exactly as the Jewish leaders did. Rather than humble ourselves before Jesus, we would have rejected Him. 2) Jesus died only because He chose to pay the penalty for the sins of mankind. Since every man is a sinner, every man therefore stands among those who murdered Him. The plain answer to the question, "Who killed Christ?" is this. You did. I did. Let us not cast blame on anyone but ourselves.

So, as we think about what Jesus suffered, we should remember its divine purpose. We were all born with the ability to choose our moral path in life, and we all freely decided to take the way of rebellion against God. "All we like sheep have gone astray" (Isa. 53:6). Thus, by deliberately entering the path of sin, we all made hell our destination. As God in eternity past foresaw each of us headed in the wrong direction, He had only one option if He wished to save us from misery throughout eternity future. His only begotten Son had to become a man so that He might enter hell in our place and suffer the full penalty for our sins. Now that Christ has performed His redemptive work on the cross, we can free ourselves from that awful penalty simply by accepting Him as our Savior. Then, because His blood has washed away our sins, we will stand guiltless before God.

If you have never believed on Christ, do you understand that you are a sinner? Jesus said that there are two great commandments: to love God with your whole being and to love your neighbor as yourself (Matt. 22:37–40). He set a high standard, didn’t He? No one can say that he has come close to meeting either requirement. And so you are a sinner, just as I am a sinner. God will not give you eternal life in His presence unless you forsake your selfish and proud nature. But you lack the ability to forsake it. Only God can change you. To release His power in your life you must first believe on Christ and obtain God’s forgiveness for your sins. Your remaining life is too short and your tomorrow in this world is too uncertain to leave your eternal destiny unsettled. You cannot afford to risk eternity in hell. Come to Christ today.

The scourging of Jesus

Before delivering a condemned malefactor to death by crucifixion, Roman authorities often put him through scourging,⁵⁰perhaps to reduce the time that guards would need to stand duty before he died. Therefore, to maintain the appearance that he was going to crucify Jesus, Pilate released Barabbas (Matt. 27:26; Mark 15:15; Luke 23:25) and sent Jesus to be scourged (Matt. 27:26; Mark 15:15; John 19:1). This kind of whipping was done with a vicious instrument known as a flagrum or flagellum. Sprouting from the end of a wooden handle were several long leather thongs, each studded with sharp-edged pieces of bone or metal. Normal practice for the soldier swinging it was to deliver a stroke and then drag the thongs across the victim’s back. Often the lashing was done by strong men specially trained for the job who bore the rank of lictor. The victim received severe injury both from the impact of the blows and from the cutting of the thongs.⁵¹ Jesus’ suffering under the lash did not equal His suffering on the cross, but it was torture of a kind so extreme that we can scarcely imagine the pain Jesus endured.

The Jews also practiced scourging, but their whip was not the vicious kind used by the Romans. Also, the law of Moses permitted no more than forty strokes (Deut. 25:3). To avoid giving too many by accident, as a result of an error in counting, the Jews stopped at thirty-nine.⁵² But the Romans observed no limit. Their object was to bring the victim as near to death as possible. They continued until his back was torn to shreds of quivering flesh and his bleeding was profuse. Some victims were left with their entrails exposed.⁵³

The scourging that Jesus endured is clearly prophesied in the Old Testament; specifically, in the book of Isaiah, which says, "With his stripes we are healed" (Isa. 53:5). The word rendered "stripes" has singular form but collective meaning,⁵⁴ referring to the welts raised by a strong whip.⁵⁵ The same verse says also, "He was bruised for our iniquities." The term "bruised" means "crushed" or "beaten in pieces."⁵⁶ It vividly suggests a body mutilated by many blows.

According to modern medical authorities who have investigated the Roman practice of scourging, a typical victim passed out after about two and a half minutes.⁵⁷ Then the lictors, the Roman officers who administered his cruel punishment, would examine him to see whether he was still alive and whether he could survive more blows. These officers had some primitive medical training to help them reach a correct decision. Even if the victim did not appear to be near death, they might not resume giving him lashes if his scourging would be followed by crucifixion. In such cases, they did not wish to leave the victim so weak that he would die on the cross before he had fully tasted its horrors.⁵⁸ Yet if the victim faced no more than scourging, they might continue until they believed that more lashes would be fatal.⁵⁹ In their goal to come as near death as possible, they sometimes went too far and the victim died.⁶⁰

In light of what we know about a Roman scourging, the account of Jesus’ endurance under the lash is astonishing (Matt. 27:27; Mark 15:16). Notice that after the scourging, "the soldiers led him away." In other words, Jesus was still standing and able to walk. Perhaps Pilate had ordered a certain number of strokes, but there is no reason to believe that the scourging was unusually mild. It is therefore remarkable that Jesus remained conscious throughout the ordeal and then kept his feet afterward. No ordinary victim endured a scourging so well. What can we infer? Jesus must have been exceptionally strong and vigorous. He came to the scourging with superhuman strength even though He had already lost blood in the agonies of prayer the night before and even though His Jewish captors had already given Him a beating.

But how could He have been otherwise than very strong? He was young. His body was toughened by years of hard manual labor. Moreover, His body was perfect. Because He was conceived by the Holy Spirit, His genes had no defect. And His body was wholly free of any weakness caused by sin.

Yet there was another reason the punishment failed to render Him insensible. Jesus taught that He could not die without His consent (John 10:17-18). No doubt it was also true that He could not lose consciousness without His consent. Since Jesus’ purpose in going through scourging and crucifixion was to pay the penalty for our sins, He allowed Himself no escape from the full pain of the ordeal. On the cross, He refused a pain-deadening drug that some merciful women offered to Him. Likewise in the scourging, He kept Himself from passing out.

His Roman tormentors had never seen such a man. After the lictors finished giving Him strokes, the whole garrison of soldiers came to look at Him. No doubt they felt a grudging admiration, but as Roman soldiers, they refused to concede that a Jew, much less a condemned Jewish rabbi, was superior in any way. So they made a mockery of Him (Matt. 27:28–29; Mark 15:17–18; John 19:2–3a).

Also, they dressed Him up in a purple robe, purple being the color that the Romans associated with royalty. They took a thorny vine and wove it into a crown and placed it on His head. Except for the thorns, His crown was rather like the laurel wreath placed on Caesar’s head at his coronation. They gave Him a scepter also, but it was not gold. It was just a common reed. Then they bowed in jest before Him and hailed Him as king of the Jews.

But simple ridicule was not enough (Matt. 27:30; Mark 15:19). As a sign of their complete contempt for the man, they spat upon Him. Yet they were still not satisfied. They wanted to see more blood. Perhaps they were especially vicious and bloodthirsty in their treatment of Jesus because in scourging Him, they had not succeeded in bringing Him to His knees. He was still standing with all the natural dignity and nobility of a real king. Therefore, unwilling to admit in their hearts that here was someone with a body and character beyond the dimensions of an ordinary man, they seized the reed that He was holding and with it lay blows on his head to drive the thorns deeper into His skull. Then they struck Him with their hands (John 19:3b).

In this round of violence, they brought about another fulfillment of prophecy. According to Isaiah, "His visage was so marred more than any man, and his form more than the sons of men" (Isa. 52:14). A literal rendering clarifies the meaning. "So (much was) the disfigurement (of) His appearance away from man, and His form from sons of man."⁶¹ In other words, the punishment heaped upon Christ would so disfigure His face and body that He would hardly look human. Another prophecy of Isaiah speaks more plainly of the wounds upon His face. "I gave my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to them that plucked off the hair: I hid not my face from shame and spitting" (Isa. 50:6). The great injury to His visage would therefore be due, at least in part, to the plucking of His beard. The soldiers in a frenzy of hatred must have pulled the hair from His cheeks and chin even as they bruised His face with blows and punctured His scalp with long thorns. The combined effect of all these assaults was to leave His visage so marred that He no longer looked like a man.

When the soldiers were finally done with their gleeful torture of a helpless victim, Jesus was led back to Pilate. One look at Jesus showed Pilate both how much He had suffered and how well He had endured it. But though Jesus was still standing, His features were bloodied and bruised. Perhaps His eyes were swollen shut. Raw flesh along His face showed where the hair had been ripped away. Stout thorns still penetrated His skull. Pilate could not see Jesus’ back, because it was covered by a robe, but Pilate could well imagine what it looked like. Perhaps Pilate could see where the robe was clinging to fresh clots of blood. The reduction of the strong carpenter to this pitiful sight was no doubt exactly what Pilate wanted, for he still hoped that the Jewish rulers might relent and show mercy to Jesus.

The third session of Jesus’ trial before Pilate

Earlier, Pilate had appeared to accept the demand of the Jewish rulers that Jesus be crucified. He had washed his hands to signify that they bore responsibility for Jesus’ death, and he had given Jesus over for scourging, a step preliminary to crucifixion. His strategy was no doubt to quiet and disperse the mob, which had brought itself to the brink of rioting. He had probably calculated that when Jesus was led away, many in the throng outside the judgment hall would go home, thinking that they had won the argument. Now when Pilate went back outside to talk with the leaders, he probably found that his ploy had succeeded. Few of their supporters remained.

Pilate repeated his judgment that Jesus was innocent, and he brought Jesus out into the courtyard so that the rulers could look closely at Him (John 19:4). As Jesus came and stood just a few feet away from His accusers, He was still garbed in a purple robe, and He still wore a crown of thorns. Pilate cried out, "Behold the man!" (John 19:5). What did he mean? In many ways, Pilate is a puzzling character, a man of contradictions. There can be little doubt that Pilate’s words were intended as a jest. But at whose expense? I think he was mocking not Jesus, but the Jewish rulers. He was saying, "Here is the man you have been so afraid of, the man you have gone to such lengths to destroy because you thought Him a threat. But see, He could not resist my power. He is bruised and bloodied by a Roman lash. As for His claim to be king, look at Him. The only kingship within His reach is the kind I have given Him as a joke." Pilate was hoping that they would be ashamed of how excited they had become in opposition to a man of no power or importance. Perhaps also he thought that Jesus’ mangled condition would trigger a spark of mercy in these rulers.

But they had no mercy at all. Pilate discovered that Jesus’ great suffering so far did not slake their bloodthirsty appetites. They still wanted Him dead. They cried out again, "Crucify him!" (John 19:6a). Exasperated, Pilate rejoined by saying, "Take ye him, and crucify him" (John 19:6b). He was declaring that he, the Roman governor, would allow the Jews not only to execute a man condemned under their law, but also to use the Roman method of execution with the help of Roman soldiers. He offered this compromise as a last-ditch effort to avoid condemning Jesus under Roman law. He wanted to escape as much blame as possible.

To justify his decision, he said, "I find no fault in him" (John 19:6c). But the Jewish rulers did not welcome the opportunity to kill Jesus themselves. Because of Jesus’ popularity, they also wanted to escape as much blame as possible. They replied by admitting for the first time the real reason that they had condemned Him. They said that He represented Himself as the Son of God—a claim that under Jewish law was a capital offense (John 19:7).

Pilate was caught off guard. His sources of information about Jesus had said nothing about such a claim, so that it was wholly unknown to Pilate. The Jewish leaders, with little experience in the world outside Jewry, failed altogether to anticipate how this revelation would affect Pilate. They had no idea that it would bring terror to his heart (John 19:8).

Jesus’ second private audience with Pilate

When Pilate heard that Jesus called Himself a son of God, he immediately excused himself and took Jesus back inside. He asked Jesus, "Whence art thou?" (John 19:9a). In other words, "Where do you come from?" What fear had seized Pilate? Pilate was, after all, a Roman, not a Jew. His religion was devoted to the worship of many gods and goddesses. From his youth he had heard many stories about them, which we now call myths. Perhaps he no longer quite believed all these stories, but perhaps he did not wholly disbelieve them either. Many spoke of Zeus or Apollo or another god falling in love with a human woman and begetting a human child with extraordinary powers. Such offspring of the gods were known as demigods. The names of many are still well known today—among them Hercules, Achilles, and Orion—because the exploits of demigods are a principal theme of ancient mythology, Greek and Norse as well as Roman. Pilate’s first thought when he heard that Jesus called Himself a son of God was to suspect that a Roman god might truly be His father. Jesus was obviously an unusual man. He had a reputation for performing miracles. He spoke fearlessly and with authority to a Roman governor. He had a superior physique and held up marvelously well under a terrible beating. If he was the child of a god, to execute him would risk the god’s retribution. Therefore, with terror beginning to creep into Pilate’s heart, he closely questioned Jesus in an effort to find out more about His origins.

Jesus gave him no answer (John 19:9b). Then Pilate pressed Him by reminding Him who was in charge (John 19:10). It was not the Jewish leaders, but himself, Pilate. Perhaps Pilate realized that in his dealings with the Jewish leaders so far, he had looked weak. It would be only natural for Jesus to conclude that anything He said to Pilate would make no difference. Therefore, Pilate assured Jesus that he still held power over the prisoner’s fate. He could crucify Jesus or let Him go.

Jesus answered that Pilate could wield no power at all against Him unless it were granted from above (John 19:11a). He obviously meant that Pilate could not crucify Jesus unless God permitted it. But within Pilate’s religious framework the meaning seemed to be that some divine being was especially interested in Jesus’ case, and would perhaps take action to defend Him. In other words, Jesus’ statement supported Pilate’s suspicion that He was a demigod.

Jesus went on to say that the Jews who brought Him to Pilate were "therefore" guilty of "the greater sin" (John 19:11b). Here is another difficult saying. Why "therefore"? The only reasonable explanation seems to be that Jesus is attributing greater freedom of choice to the Jewish leaders. Like Pilate, these leaders had no power against Jesus except from above (Acts 4:27-28). In condemning Him, they were acting as instruments of God’s plan, conceived from the foundation of the world, to achieve man’s redemption. Yet God did not force them to play the role of Jesus’ executioners. It was a matter of free choice, and compared with Pilate, they were far more blameworthy for Jesus’ death. They knew the Scriptures, and they knew Jesus much better than Pilate did. As a result, they were endowed with more knowledge essential to treating Him justly. Therefore, in turning away from a much greater light of divine revelation, they committed the much greater sin.

But notice that Jesus did not vindicate Pilate. He still charged him with sin, although it was less than the sin of the Jewish leaders. Why? Pilate had also not been deprived of light from God. Indeed, Jesus provides light to every man that lives (John 1:9). Moreover, Pilate had the unique privilege of seeing Jesus face to face and of questioning Him however He desired. Therefore, in rebuke of Pilate’s attempt to escape guilt by washing his hands, Jesus warned him that although he escaped the greater sin, he too would be held accountable for Jesus’ death.

The final verdict

The two warnings from Jesus stirred a fear within Pilate that made him try harder to secure Jesus’ release. The account suggests that Pilate left the judgment hall where he had been interrogating Jesus and again confronted the Jewish leaders who were waiting outside. Then he on one side and the Jewish rulers on the other again fell into protracted wrangling over what should be done with Jesus (John 19:12a). Again the Jewish rulers brought out their big weapon. They told Pilate that if he let Jesus go, he would prove himself to be no friend of Caesar (John19:12b).

Further historical background gives us an even better understanding as to why this weapon was so potent. We mentioned earlier that in 33, the year of Jesus’ crucifixion, Pilate’s hold on his office was very precarious. The accusatory words of the Jewish leaders touched a sensitive nerve. The expression "friend of Caesar" was actually an official title that he held as a Roman governor.⁶² By questioning his right to retain this title if he released Jesus, the Jews implied that they intended to complain to Caesar about how he handled Jesus’ case. Probably they had complained about him many times before, and probably they knew that Caesar had warned Pilate to be more conciliatory.

But Pilate was still not willing to give up his effort to save Jesus’ from the cross. His personal encounters with the Master, especially the last one after he learned that Jesus called Himself the Son of God, had convinced him not only that Jesus did not deserve to die, but also that here was a man of larger spiritual dimensions than he had ever seen before, perhaps even with some mysterious links to Higher Beings beyond the world of daily life.

So, Pilate brought out Jesus from inside and sat in his judgment seat, his bema, which had been placed on "the Pavement" (John 19:13). In Greek, "pavement" is lithostroton, which means, "paved place," but in Hebrew, it is gabbatha, which means "raised place.⁶³ The word likely refers to a platform outside the judgment hall where it was convenient for Pilate to render an official judgment before a large audience of Jews.⁶⁴ No doubt many soldiers surrounded them to prevent any outbreak of mob frenzy.

Jesus was still wearing the scarlet robe and the crown of thorns. Again, in a last effort to free Jesus from condemnation, Pilate cried out, "Behold your King!" (John 19:14). It is very unlikely that his words were intended as mockery. On the contrary, he was well aware that the large crowd now gathered near the lithostroton now included many ordinary Jews, many common people whose outlook on their nation’s future was not dictated by the Sanhedrin. Perhaps out of great respect for Jesus, he was actually trying in his desperation to stir up in them a desire to make Jesus their king. He may have even decided that he would find Judea much easier to govern if their political leader was a man as calm and brilliant and good as Jesus. But the effort was useless and unrealistic, to say the least. The leaders responded with angry and loud demands to crucify Jesus (John 19:15a). Once again, he reminded them of Jesus’ claim to be their king, but they answered by screaming, "We have no king but Caesar" (John 19:15b).

Implicit in their cry was another threat to inform Caesar that Pilate was failing to eliminate a man who was challenging Caesar’s authority. The threat succeeded. When Pilate saw that any further attempt to save Jesus might cost him his job, he delivered Jesus over to His executioners (John 19:16a). These were Roman soldiers for whom killing people by crucifixion was almost a daily routine.

John gives us both the day and the hour when Jesus’ case reached a final verdict. It happened at "about the sixth hour" on "the preparation of the passover"—that is, on the fourteenth of Nisan, the day before the Passover meal in the evening (John 19:14). On our calendar, if we reckon the year of His death as AD 33, the date was April 3rd.⁶⁵ The Jewish day included twelve hours beginning in the morning. Therefore, by exact reckoning the sixth hour was noon. But whereas John says that the trial of Jesus ended at about the sixth hour, Mark says that it was actually the third hour—that is, nine o’clock— when Jesus was crucified (Mark 15:25). There is no contradiction here. Since ancient Jews had no access to modern watches and clocks, they customarily were satisfied with rough approximations when they measured the time of day. Often the closest they could get was to distinguish the third, sixth, and ninth hours.⁶⁶ "About the sixth hour" means only that it was somewhat closer to noon than to dawn. To express the same idea, we would say "near midday." Since Mark omits the word "about" when he gives the time as the third hour, a reasonable inference is that it was somewhat closer to nine o’clock than to twelve o’clock. Perhaps the actual time was near ten o’clock.

Some prominent scholars argue that when John referred to the sixth hour, he was not using the clock familiar to Jews, but a Roman clock, which treated a day as twenty-four hours starting at midnight.⁶⁷ If they are right, Jesus’ trial finished at about six o’clock in the morning. But it is impossible to squeeze the whole scenario between the opening of His trial before the Sanhedrin at the crack of dawn (Luke 22:66), about 6:30,⁶⁸ and the close of His trial before Pilate at least into such a short time. Support for our assumption that by John’s reckoning, the sixth hour was noon appears in the story of the Samaritan woman. Jesus met her when He and His disciples were traveling through Samaria on their way to Galilee. It was at the sixth hour that they stopped for rest and refreshment in her city (John 4:6). Throughout history, the most common time for travelers to pull aside to a rest area has been noon.

After Pilate dismissed Jesus to face capital punishment, the first agony inflicted on the condemned man came when the soldiers pulled off the purple robe that in mockery they had forced Him to wear (Matt. 27:31a; Mark 15:20a). The fabric was now stuck fast to the clotted wounds on His back, and pulling the fabric away meant that all these wounds were reopened. The pain was a sharp blow. Afterward they put on His own clothes and led Him away to be executed (Matt. 27:31b; Mark 15:20b; John 19:16b).