John 19:1-4
Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. And the soldiers wove a crown of thorns and put it on his head, and they dressed him in a purple robe. They kept coming up to him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” and striking him on the face. Pilate went out again and said to them, “Look, I am bringing him out to you to let you know that I find no case against him.”
Pilate isn’t finished yet. He will try one more time to set Jesus free. He flogs him first, hoping that will count as sufficient punishment. And allows his soldiers to mock and torment him. And then brings him back, saying once again that he has found no case against him.
At least that’s how John tells it.
Look, I hate to interrupt the narrative flow of John’s dramatic scene. And of course I’ll want to jump back into it soon enough to continue with the story. But just here, just now, I feel obliged to slow down a moment, to stand apart from this multi-layered drama, and observe that simple fact that it is highly unlikely that Pilate would have cared much whether this rebel Jewish rabbi lived or died.
John – and, indeed, all the evangelists to one degree or another – are at pains to give Pilate a pass and make sure the burden for Jesus’ death rests squarely on the shoulders of the Jewish religious authorities.
Why? Because this is with whom they are contending.
After the destruction of the Temple in 70, you see, Judaism went through a massive crisis. The Temple that was the center of their religion and worship was gone, wiped from the face of the earth. And with the loss of the Temple they also lost much of their identity. In the wake of the physical, emotional, and existential damage wrought by the loss of the Temple, two variant forms of Judaism arose that sought to interpret these events and move into a new, if unexpected, future.
One of those branches from the tree of first-century Judaism focused on the Synagogue, the practice of the faith in local contexts absent the focal point of the Jerusalem Temple. It was the variant championed by those in the Gospels called Pharisees. The other branch might be most accurately described as those Jews who were followers of Jesus. They saw in Jesus God’s plan for Israel and, indeed, the world, unveiled before them. They likely didn’t think of themselves as “Christians” at this point, but rather as good Jews, perhaps the “true” Jews because they received Jesus as God’s messiah.
Perhaps not surprisingly, these two groups were rivals. Like members of a congregation that has split, everyone felt pushed to take a side. And part of the consequence of this rivalry were four gospels written for communities made up of the followers of Jesus who had nothing to gain from further antagonizing Rome and everything to gain by putting the whole of the blame for Jesus’ death on the ancestors of their current opponents.
Was Jesus in conflict with Jewish religious authorities? No question. But did he die at the hands of a reluctant Pilate who would have done almost anything to set him free. Not likely. Pilate was a ruthless commander, entirely comfortable with putting whole hosts of people to death. And Jesus was, as we’ll soon see, perceived not only as a religious threat but as a political one. And so Pilate put Jesus to death as an enemy of Rome.
Why does all this matter? Because it’s one thing for a minority group of early Christian followers to tell their story in way that casts their opponents in an unfavorable light. The Gospels were originally written, after all, to bolster the faith and confidence of communities struggling to hold onto their faith in rather challenging, and sometimes desperate, circumstances. But it’s a whole other matter to continue to read this story as history when for the better part of two thousand years the majority religion in the Western world has labeled Jews “Christ killers” and used these scenes to show Rome’s innocence and Jerusalem’s culpability.
Prayer: Dear God, you made promises to your people Israel that we believe we were kept in Jesus. Let us look upon those who continue to worship you as faithful Jews as fellow children of the promise, deserving only and always of our love and respect. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Thanks for reminding us again. It is especially important in this day when anti-Semitism is rearing its ugly head again. We must NOT do anything to encourage it. Blessings.