You Were There (10/24/12)
If there is a there to be part of in this scene, I think it must be inside Pilate’s head. Whatever you make of the man, it’s clear that he was conflicted. On the one hand, there was the course of justice. And he clearly recognized that justice, in this case, required rejecting the Jewish complaints. Whatever they were up to, it was clearly not as they represented the matter. This man was no threat to Rome, no threat to the peace. Truly, one had but to look around to see that it was the priests themselves who were stirring up a riot. As the governor of this small province, he was the voice of Roman justice. He had a nation’s reputation to uphold, and I don’t doubt he felt the responsibility of that task. But, then, serving as a Roman governor had its pitfalls.
That was the other half of Pilate. To survive in Roman politics, one had to play everything just right. He knew that. He knew that, however secure his office might seem today, it could be a precarious thing tomorrow. Fortunes changed overnight in the empire, and when things turned bad, they often turned deadly. One thing that was painfully clear to him was that these accusers recognized that truth as well as he. So much of what they were saying here was aimed more at him than at Jesus. He teaches them to not pay taxes? Well, what right-thinking Jew was going to bring that to the attention of Rome? No. That was for him. That was a threat. What, after all, was his primary purpose here, if not to keep the coffers full in Rome?
As to this business of proclaiming Himself king, well, what of it if He had? First, He had already told Pilate outright that His kingdom had nothing to do with lands and territories as Pilate understood them. It was, if he was following, a kingdom of ideas and ideals, a matter of truth not treasure. Meant nothing to him, but then, it would mean nothing to the emperor either, would it? Ah, but there was a barb in that charge. Even if it was demonstrable nonsense, if he was seen to take it lightly, he could count on these troublemakers to make trouble for him behind his back. They would see to it that word got back to Rome that he was not taking the Caesar’s title as seriously as he ought. We’ll hear that later in the taunt, “You are no friend of Caesar!” Yes. Let that reach Tiberius’ ears, and there would indeed be hell to pay, no matter how outrageous the charge.
He had to do something. He had to demonstrate his determination to maintain Rome’s authority. Honestly, he’d probably had about enough of these Jews and their demands long since, having been out-maneuvered by them once or twice before. That rebuke by his superiors, requiring him to take the shields out of his own palace – his own palace, mind you! – did not sit well. Really, what’s the point of being in authority if one has to buckle to every niggling demand of those one rules? What is the world coming to?
But, he saw his position as precarious, and he knew from experience how well-versed these guys were in Rome-style politicking. Still, he’s seeking a compromise. Whether it was a sense of justice that moved him or a more base desire to save face cannot be known. Certainly, by the time everything was said and done, he had cause enough to be concerned, not just because of those clamoring outside, but because maybe, just maybe this Man was just what He said He was. What a bind! Set Him free and these people outside will have his hide. Accede to their demands and have this One crucified, and perhaps he’s killed a king. Can there be any doubt but that there will be retribution for that move? And that message from his wife wasn’t going to help at all. “I’ve had a dream..” Things like that bore weight with the Roman psyche.
In the end, we know how it played out for him. But, while I could hardly argue for canonizing the man, I can certainly find room to suppose him a better man than we perhaps give him credit for being. As ever seems to be the case, I find myself turned to this point: How much better would I have done in that situation? I suspect the answer is, not much.
New Thoughts (10/26/12-10/29/12)
As much as the narrative is focused on Jesus, and the injustices being done Him, it seems to me that at this juncture we do well to focus on those others participating in the drama. First, there are those who are almost the extras brought on for the crowd scene at this point; the chief priests, the elders, the mob. The first two parts of that group had, according to Luke’s reporting, followed the prisoner over to Herod’s place, so that they could continue their shouting and accusing before him. Maybe he’d prove more malleable than Pilate, being an easterner like themselves. The mob of people that were with them, though? Highly unlikely they went into Herod’s palace. Highly unlikely he would have allowed them in. So, apparently they’ve been lounging about outside the Praetorium awaiting events. But, set the mob aside for now, and let’s focus on the instigators, the chief priests and elders.
These men have been presenting their case against Jesus, such as it is. In order to convince the Roman justice, represented in Pilate, that their own judgments should be heeded, that this man should be put to death, they have in fact rendered themselves guilty of a death sentence by the very law they seek to invoke. There stands amidst the primary tenets of their own religion, “Thou shalt not bear false witness.” Yet, that is precisely what they have done. Ooh! Ooh! He’s been teaching people that they shouldn’t pay their taxes! Well, to begin with, that is false witness. In fact, we have coverage of how Jesus answered that very question, and He expressed no qualms at all with seeing Caesar’s taxes paid. That issue, if it was an issue at all, was more in the minds of the Zealots, and maybe the Pharisees. It had nothing to do with His teaching.
What’s more, this was transparent fabrication. Even if Jesus had been teaching such a thing, it would hardly have amounted to cause for these priests to be seeking His death. First, such a teaching was by no means a capital crime per their law, which was their original reason for seeking Pilate’s enforcement. Oh, He’s worthy of the death sentence by our laws, but we can’t do that without your leave. Well, their law said little to nothing about paying taxes to Caesar, and what little it might have suggested was more likely to agree with what they claimed this man was teaching. So: First charge considered, accusers clearly lying through their teeth. That’s bound to color the judge’s consideration of charge number two.
He’s claiming to be a king, the Messiah. Well, there’s at least a bit of truth to that. Although, in fairness, it’s more that He hasn’t been denying it when pressed. The record would seem to show that He strongly resisted attempts by the public at large to elevate Him, with the exception of His entry into Jerusalem this week. Even before the gathered council of the Sanhedrin, He had made no claim, only refused to lie about it when asked directly. “It is as you say.” So, Pilate has felt it needful to consider this case. After all, if He’s claiming to be a king and trying to turn out the Romans from this territory, that’s going to be a problem he’ll have to deal with. But, Jesus, in one of the very few answers He is giving anyone during this farce, explains that the nature of His kingdom is not to do with territories and boundaries, but to do with truth and ideals, spiritual matters. No threat to Pilate there. He’s not a spiritual man. No threat to Caesar, there. Caesar cares about power, and about maintaining peace and profits. Nothing in Jesus is threatening these goals.
Neither are these charges, from a Jewish perspective, cause for death. The closest they’ve come is with this business about Him claiming to be God, or equal with God. Well, that’s a religious matter, really not something for the Roman justice system to judge. After all, Roman religion is filled with such things, children of gods, gods made man for a season. What’s the big deal? But, so far as these accusers are considered, everything they are bringing is as false as that business about taxes. Every step of the way, they have perverted their own terms of justice. The very fact that they have been seeking this Man’s life, laying out snares to trip Him up, paying off witnesses to speak against Him whether true or false, even the questionable legitimacy of holding their session at night; all if this is in direct contravention of their own law, their own moral teachings. By the entire course of this conspiracy against Jesus, they have but sealed their own court case in the judicial halls of heaven. They are but perfecting the case against themselves, and their judgment is sure.
Since I am considering the nature of these leaders and their breach of that fundamental law about false witnesses, I found a striking bit of irony amongst the passages from John which were pointed out in parallel to the current scene from Luke. In particular, two verses caught my eye: Jn 7:48 – None of the Sanhedrin or the Pharisees have believed in Him, have they? Jn 12:42 – But, many of the rulers did believe in Him. Yet, because of the Pharisees, they would not confess Him for fear of being put out of the synagogue. Do you see the juxtaposition here? None of your leaders have believed, have they? But, many did! They were just afraid to say so. They were pragmatic in their belief. Confession could lead to banishment from the community of Jewish faith. It could lead to worse; might cause loss of employment, loss of property, certainly loss of status. They believed, but were afraid to confess, to bear witness for Him.
In this, they showed that they were not so very different from Herod or from Pilate. Pragmatism weighed more heavily with them than truth. Pilate is doing the same, here. Jesus, by Pilate’s own admission, has done nothing, There is no evidence to support the charges brought against him. Yet, there’s this angry mob outside demanding something be done, and he knows them well enough to know they’ll make trouble for him if he doesn’t satisfy their demands. So, he tries for compromise. Tell, you what, folks; I’ll scourge Him and then send Him on His way. Will that do?
Perhaps, in the practice of Roman Law, and in that particular situation of upholding Roman Law in a prickly border territory, there is some way of construing this action as legitimate. It certainly doesn’t read well for Pilate’s character, though. I know it’s wrong, but I’ll do it anyway, because there’s just too much personal risk in it for me if I don’t. It’s unlikely that we face anything like the consequences Pilate weighed that day. We probably won’t be called upon to determine whether another man lives or dies, let alone God. But, in smaller matters, and for much lesser causes, it seems we quite often make the same sort of decisions: I know it’s wrong, but I’ll do it anyway. Indeed, it may not even be a question of personal risk. It may just be personal preference.
The example is so common as to be trite, but speed limits do come to mind here. I know I oughtn’t to be exceeding 65 MPH, but I’ll do it anyway. It really is the same personal risk incentive, but working in reverse. We do the calculation, and reach the conclusion that the likelihood of any negative consequence to ourselves is sufficiently small that we may as well. Considering certain aspects of business law, a corporate head may well make the same calculations. Legally, I cannot, but the likelihood of enforcement is minimal, and even if enforced, the penalty is negligible compared to the profit. Others are making that calculation about health insurance. The cost of a policy is X. The penalty for not having a policy is Y. Given a perceived lack of need for any such insurance, which presents the cheaper course for me?
My point is simply this: We cannot afford to be so swiftly judgmental in regard to Pilate. As you judge, so you will be judged is the warning we are given from Scripture. If we’re swift to condemn Pilate for caving to pressure here, we must be equally swift to condemn ourselves for our own propensity for caving to the least bit of opposition when it comes to heeding civil laws. Perhaps we’ve convinced ourselves there’s not really a moral component to civil law, that it has no bearing upon our standing as righteous men and women. But, that must ignore the teaching found in Scripture as well, which requires of us that we obey civil law in all things except that law is found to require of us that which directly contravenes God’s Law.
Let me further consider Pilate. There was something said in McClintock and Strong’s that bears reading. “It is evident that from this moment Pilate was distracted between two conflicting feelings: a fear of offending the Jews, who had already grounds of accusation against him, which would be greatly strengthened by any show of lukewarmness in punishing an offence against the imperial government, and a conscious conviction that Jesus was innocent, since it was absurd to suppose that a desire to free the nation from Roman authority was criminal in the eyes of the Sanhedrim.” As I have been saying, he knew full well that the charges were bogus. Whatever their real reasons were for wanting this Man dead, they weren’t about to say. He knew they were simply trying to come up with reasons that would force him to act, and this could not have been making him happy.
There is, in fact, the suggestion that his attitude towards the Jews was hardened by these events, and that would certainly be understandable. Nobody likes to be puppet to another, and certainly not to the very people over whom one is supposedly in authority. He had been played and he knew it. He had been cornered by their efforts, and he knew it. He must violate his own conscience in this matter, pervert the clear path of justice, in order to preserve himself, and he was not at all happy about that fact. And, things that will be explained in subsequent sections of the Gospel coverage would indicate he had plenty of reason for concern in that regard. Conscience, as is generally the case, was giving good guidance. After all, just suppose this Man was what He claimed to be. What then? What repercussions could be expected were he found to have executed a king with insufficient grounds? It could not end well. The fact of the matter is that this pretty well sums up his situation. It could not end well. Nor did it.
What may have hampered Pilate in pursuing the better path was that he was essentially a worldly statesman. Spirituality and philosophy had no draw for him. Beyond a bit of typical Roman superstition, he appears to have no use whatsoever for anything other than the physical realities around him. Might and power have his attention. Ideals? He has no place for them. Just observe his response to Jesus when Jesus explains the nature of His kingdom. “What is truth?” Really, now. Who cares about that sort of stuff? It wasn’t truth built the Roman empire, was it? Truth didn’t seem to have done much to preserve Israel’s territories either.
Then, of course, there is Herod. Herod was perhaps more reprehensible in his pursuits. Here he was, a purported subscriber to the Jewish faith, albeit an Idumean, yet his practices were so fully under Rome’s influence as to disgust his own subjects. Indeed, even Rome was a bit put out by him. Here, again, a quote from McClintock and Strong would not be amiss. “Religion was adopted as a policy; and the Hellenizing designs of Antiochus Epiphanes were carried out, at least in their spirit, by men who professed to observe the law.” Just think about that for a moment. They professed adherence to Mosaic Law, and all the while they were working to undermine that law. Consider whose designs they were working toward: Antiochus Epiphanes. His acts while ruling over Israel are notorious. His disdain for Jewish sensibilities, and his determination to thoroughly rewrite their society are well documented. And here is Herod, the ostensible Jew by faith, doing his utmost to reach the same ends: a complete rewrite of the society over which he ruled.
It is no wonder, really, that a man such as John would find it needful to denounce such a king. Surely, his taking of his brother’s wife was a blatant violation of Mosaic Law. Add to this that she was also his niece, and the problem is compounded. Recognize that he was already married, and the issue escalates. Witness the vengeful father-in-law all but destroying his territory, and it’s hard not to see the wrath of God being visited not just on this kinglet, but on the kingdom that tolerated him.
As to his character, apart from the lack of piety, we see Herod as a cunning politician, but also as a coward. How so? Consider what moved him to arrest John rather than simply kill him. He feared his own subjects, lest they riot against him. Not far different from Pilate in this regard. He feared, too, the potential ridicule of his peers. Consider what drove him, finally, to have John beheaded. He had said something foolish, made a promise far beyond good sense, and that one to whom he had promised such grandiose things saw fit to call him on it. Oh, that poor girl was being manipulated by her mother, to be sure, but why? Why was she asking her mother for advice regarding what she should ask for, if not because she wished to take advantage of her father, and get as much out of the deal as she possibly could. And mom’s advice? Take vengeance for me. And she did! What is up with that? In what way was asking for John’s head of any potential profit to this girl, that she would do as her mother advised? It’s truly hard to fathom.
Yet, Herod, hearing the request, was loathe to renege on his word. Again, we must ask why. Why would he demonstrate himself as such an easily manipulated man, this purportedly cunning politician? Well, one answer is that he feared that, should he rescind his offer having heard the request, it would demonstrate the foolishness of having offered in the first place. It’s not as though the result of his acceding to her wishes demonstrated anything different, but in his thinking, keeping his word, no matter how stupid the word, was more in keeping with the ways of royalty than demonstrating a willingness to repent of one’s decisions.
Let me think upon that thought for a moment. Herod was, at some level, versant in the teachings of Judaism as it was practiced in that time. He had heard the Torah read and explained. Whether or not he bought it, he knew it. He knew, for example, that Moses had recorded this point: “God is not a man, that He should lie, nor a son of man, that He should repent. Has He said, and will He not do it? Has He spoken and He will not make it good?” (Nu 23:19). Given the clear indications that the Herods in general sought to establish their own dynasty, their own empire, it would hardly be surprising should they come to view themselves in similar fashion, or at least seek to project such an image of themselves. Consider, too, the clear admiration that Herod has for Roman ways. And, did not Caesar proclaim himself a god among men? Well, why should Herod not demonstrate the same by such a commitment to his own proclamations. Look upon you king! Has he spoken and not done as he said? Has he made promises that he has not made good? Did he promise whatever you asked, then so be it!
I am beginning to think this may provide a better explanation of that scene than fear of ridicule. The one thing that might advocate against such a conclusion is his handling of Jesus. One or the other of the encyclopedias suggested that it was this same fearful nature that led him to work with the Pharisees for Jesus’ destruction rather than simply strike directly. But, I’m not so sure there’s much evidence of such a conspiracy. Yes, we are told the Herodians joined with the Pharisees, but that’s a different thing than saying the Herod himself was deferring to their schemes. Indeed, I am inclined to think any such deference would be beyond him. Consider that enmity that is spoken of between himself and Pilate. On what basis the dislike? Was it not because Pilate had rather stepped on his toes, exerting his own enforcement of justice on those more properly under Herod’s jurisdiction? Not that Herod was really planning to do anything about it, perhaps, but the fact that Pilate had done something was a usurping of his authority. If he was so put off by Pilate taking such steps, was he really likely to cede his authority to a bunch of pious Jews? I don’t think so.
What evidence there is suggests rather that the Pharisees were taking advantage of his reputation for their own ends. The scene that comes to mind is that provide in Luke 13:31-32, while Jesus is still in Galilee. There, we are told some Pharisees were seeking to intimidate Him. So they told Him that Herod was plotting to kill Him. Given what had happened to John, this would seem a credible claim on the face of it. But, Jesus sees past the face of it. So, we hear His response. “Tell that fox, ‘Today and tomorrow, I continue to cast out demons and cure the sick. The third day, I reach My goal.’”
Now, consider that response. I am told that the first rule of hermeneutics is that what is meant by the Scripture cannot be what it could not mean to those who first heard it. But, if this message was truly intended for Herod, what possible sense was he to make of it? “The third day, I reach My goal”? What information would that impart to Herod? None. What would it impart to the Pharisees bearing the message? Well, true, His insistence that He would be pursuing business as usual for the next few days informed them that their attempts at intimidation were a failure. And, we can maybe perceive the general perception of Herod in Jesus’ choice of description, “that old fox.” Oh, he’s sly enough, well known for his cunning, and yes, he can be dangerous to the chickens. But, he’s not dangerous to Me.
To our ears, the last bit of that statement, that which could hold no clear meaning for those who were speaking, would have clear meaning indeed. For the disciples, who can be assumed to have been within earshot, the message would resonate, but not until well after this event. Yes, and that third day to which I we can safely assume Jesus is referring is still more than three days off. Honestly, if He wished to say that He was heading for Jerusalem in a few days, and Herod could stop worrying himself about the disruption, this doesn’t strike me as the way to impart that news. This is antagonistic. But, is it intended to be antagonistic to Herod? To the Pharisees? I think there’s another recipient in view, just as that third day reference speaks to an event still more than three days off.
See, Jesus understood clearly that it was not against flesh and blood that He was defending Himself. He had, after all, already faced His true opposition out there in the desert. And He had, for the time being, bested that opposition, such that the devil departed from Him. For a season. But, He well knew the devil was only waiting an opportune time to strike again. And, He also knew beyond doubt that this same devil would be seeking every opportunity to throw Him off course, to shift Him from Father’s schedule, until the appointed hour had come and gone. With that in mind, it doesn’t strike me as unreasonable to suppose that Jesus is addressing His remarks primarily to this real enemy of His, that sly fox, that serpent of old. And, His message was one of inevitability. “On the third day I reach My goal. You cannot stop Me. You cannot even slow Me down or speed Me up. My schedule is set, and your defeat certain.”
It is that very defeat that is unfolding even as Pilate capitulates to the mob, even as Herod decides against fulfilling his own responsibilities. It is that very defeat which is unfolding even as this enemy of God is rubbing his hands together in contemplation of his clever victory. It’s very hard to imagine that this one whom we are told repeatedly is so deucedly clever, who has sought through the ages to set himself in God’s place, who is, by all appearances, at least as well-versed in the Scriptures as Jesus or the Apostles, could fail to see the trap that he was gleefully trotting into. And yet, this is what we see occur. In spite of his every machination and deception, in spite of every heart he had darkened, and every light of reason he had shuttered, in spite of the full confidence he must have felt as this final day drew to a close, that third day would indeed come, and Jesus would indeed achieve His goal. And so, that very confidence that Herod had sought to display in relieving John of his head, was displayed in earnest. “Have I said, and I will not do it?” The answer was heard in those three resounding words of Jesus upon the cross. “It is finished!”
