The Trouble with Jesus (John 19:5-8)

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John 19:5-8

The Trouble With Jesus

With the possible exception of the Doobie Brothers and a handful of other musical acts that have recorded a song by this title, the one thing that no one in the history of the world has ever been able to say about Jesus is that He is “just alright with me.” If you could travel the world in a weekend, only stopping in at Christian churches on every continent, you may come away from the experience with the conclusion that Jesus is the most popular and beloved Person in history. Songs of praise and adoration are sung to Him and about Him; prayers are prayed to Him and to the Father in His name; sermons are preached about Him and the words that He said, and people are called to follow Him in faith and obedience. But if we were to look outside those churches, in the ivory towers of secular academia, in the corridors of political power, in temples of other faiths, and in the places where people gather and talk about the important issues of the day, we have reach a far different conclusion. We may conclude that Jesus is the most hated Person in history.

One place where we can find this sentiment expressed is in the Gospels themselves. In contrast with disciples who left all they had behind to follow Him, multitudes with faith enough to believe that He could heal them, and throngs who held to His every word, we find a group of people whose hatred for Jesus led them to conspire for His murder. Who were these people? Throughout all four Gospels we find them to be the religious leaders of Israel. The moral standards of Jewish religion were higher than those of any culture that had ever existed in the history of the world until that time. And yet, human history is filled with examples of the evil that results when religion turns bad. As J. C. Ryle wrote, “In every age, none have been such hard, cruel, unfeeling, and bloody-minded persecutors of God’s saints, as the “ministers of religion.”[1] It was certainly true of these elite Jewish officials, who are described in verse 6 of our text as the chief priests and their officers.

The more things change, the more they stay the same. The name of Jesus today can still evoke just as much ire. If you’ve ever tried to speak up for Him in public, you know this. It is hard to understand sometimes, but Jesus and His follower have a long history of getting in trouble. So, what is the trouble with Jesus? The brief passage we have read presents us with several answers to that question.

I. The trouble with Jesus is that He just won’t go away (v6).

Jesus had gotten under the skin of the religious establishment in Jerusalem. His teachings challenged their traditions and their authority. He had called them out as hypocrites, a brood of vipers, whitewashed tombs, sons of the devil, and blind guides because of their corruption, greed, and spiritual ignorance. When multitudes began to follow Him because of His teachings and His miracles, they felt threatened by Him, and they determined to do away with Him.

On several occasions, they had tried to seize Him and stone Him to death on the spot but they were unable to (Jn 8:58-59; 10:39). At long last they had gotten a foothold through an insider – Judas Iscariot – who would betray Jesus over to them. Finally, they had Him before Pontius Pilate, who alone could issue an official death order. When Pilate took Jesus away, they must have thought that they had at last secured a victory over Jesus. But in verse 5, Jesus reappears, bloody and beaten, but still alive. Pilate called out to them: “Behold the Man!” And verse 6 says that they saw Him. But He wasn’t dead, so they cried out all the more, “Crucify! Crucify!” Weymouth translates the phrase, “To the cross! To the cross!”

Here for the second time, Pilate announces that he has found no guilt worthy of death in Jesus. He will not crucify Him, so he says, “Take Him yourselves and crucify Him.” Now, this is a loaded statement. The Jews had no power to execute criminals. That power belonged only to Rome. So Pilate is saying essentially, “I won’t put Him to death, so if you want Him dead, you will have to do it yourselves, if you dare.” For them to do this would bring the wrath of Rome upon their own heads. So Pilate won’t crucify Jesus, and the Jews can’t crucify Jesus. They will have to revise their tactics if they want Him dead.

As the text goes on, we will see that they do, and finally they will persuade Pilate to issue the order to crucify Jesus. Jesus would go to the cross and die. The Jewish officials will see His lifeless body hanging on the cross and think that at long last they have finally made Him go away. That was Friday. But on Sunday morning they would find out that even death could not make Jesus go away, because He would rise from the dead! That’s the trouble with Jesus: He just won’t go away!

Two millennia later, people are still trying to make Jesus just go away. They try to avoid, ignore, and disregard Him. They refuse to believe in Him. But this is just the thing: disbelief, ignorance, and avoidance of Him will not make Him go away! C. S. Lewis tried when he was an atheist. As he was laying in a hospital ward recovering from an illness he acquired in the trenches of World War I, he began to read. He had never heard of G. K. Chesterton, but he began reading a volume of Chesterton’s essays. He said, “I did not know what I was letting myself in for. A young man who wishes to remain a sound Atheist cannot be too careful of his reading. There are traps everywhere – ‘Bibles laid open, millions of surprises … fine nets and strategems.’ God is, if I may say it, very unscrupulous.”[2] Suddenly, every book he read, every friend he made, every conversation he had, was seemingly thrusting God-in-Christ before him. After several years of this, he said,

Really, a young atheist cannot guard his faith too carefully. Dangers lie in wait for him on every side. … Amiable agnostics will talk cheerfully about ‘man’s search for God.’ To me, as I then was, they might as well have talked about the mouse’s search for the cat. … I had always wanted, above all things, not to be ‘interfered with.’ … That which I greatly feared had at last come upon me. … I gave in, and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed: perhaps, that night, the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England.[3]

As Hebrews 4:13 says, “there is no creature hidden from His sight, but all things are open and laid bare to the eyes of Him with Whom we have to do.” You will deal with Him here and now, or you will deal with Him before the judgment seat of eternity, but you will deal with Him. He just won’t go away. And for many people, that’s the trouble with Jesus.

For some, they would say …

II. The trouble with Jesus is that He makes such radical claims. (v7)

As Christmas approaches, many popular magazine covers switch from their usual fare of celebrities and world affairs and feature instead full-color portraits of nativity scenes. The check-out lanes of the local grocery store become virtual art galleries with more glossy images of the baby Jesus than are found in many churches. Television documentaries follow suit, with features on the birth of the baby at Bethlehem. These scenes, meaningful as they are to us as Christians, are very palatable and non-threatening to the world because the infant Jesus is somewhat different from the full-grown Jesus we read about in the Gospels in one very important way: He is not speaking. Just like in the first century, so today, people don’t seem to mind a silent Jesus. It’s when He starts talking that things get uncomfortable. This Jesus makes radical claims that demand a response from all who hear His words.

The Apostle John says in the closing verse of this Gospel that the whole world could not contain the books that could be written of all that Jesus said and did. But none of those things are in focus here as He is brought to trial before Pilate. There is a singular claim that is the center of attention: “He made Himself out to be the Son of God” (v7).

The religious officials of Jerusalem had been very crafty in seeking to secure a death sentence from Pilate. Knowing that Pilate would not care to meddle in a Jewish theological debate, they presented Jesus as an insurrectionist, a rabble-rouser who posed a threat to national security and Roman authority. The charges were set forth in Luke’s account: “We found this man misleading our nation and forbidding to pay taxes to Caesar, and saying that He Himself is Christ, a King. … He stirs up the people” (Lk 23:2, 5). It was on the basis of these charges that Pilate had interrogated Jesus, and concluded that He was not guilty of any serious threat. Twice at this point, he had announced the verdict (18:38; 19:6). They had been unsuccessful in persuading him to convict Jesus on political charges. Their only remaining resort was to appeal to the religious charges on the basis of their own laws.

As the Roman prefect of Judea, Pilate’s primary responsibility was enforcing Roman authority in the land. But, in the interests of preserving the Pax Romana (the “peace” of Rome), he also had the responsibility of enforcing local laws as well, so long as they did not contradict Rome’s interests. Knowing this, the Jewish officials make an appeal to their own religious law as a last ditch effort to gain Pilate’s cooperation in putting Jesus to death. They say in verse 7, “We have a law.” In other words, “Though you do not find Jesus in violation of any of your Roman laws, He is in violation of one of our laws!” The law that they have in mind is the law concerning blasphemy, stated in Leviticus 24:16. The Law of God states there, “[T]he one who blasphemes the name of the Lord shall surely be put to death.” To blaspheme is, in the words of Calvin, “to assume any honor which belonged to God,” or to claim for oneself “what belongs only to God.”[4] This, they say, Jesus has done by “making Himself out to be the Son of God.”

They understood that the title “Son of God,” as used by Jesus was a claim of equating Himself with God. It was to say that He was of the same nature as God, and possessed the same authority and power as God. Now, to be sure, if anyone ever made himself out to be something of this order, that person would most definitely be guilty of blasphemy. That is, unless it were true. So the question that Pilate must now consider, and which each of us must consider, is that: Did Jesus make Himself out to be the Son of God? Or was He truly the Son of God?

Make no mistake about it, Jesus clearly claimed to be the Son of God on multiple occasions. He spoke of God as His Father, and referred to Himself as the Son (e.g., John 10:36). On that very evening, when He was interrogated by the high priest, He was commanded: “Tell us whether You are the Christ, the Son of God.” His answer was, “You have said it yourself” (Mt 26:63-64). It was fresh in their ears. Others had called Him the Son of God, and He never once corrected them. Even the demons whom He cast out of possessed people had called Him the Son of God (Mt 8:29), as did the angels who had announced His birth (Lk 1:32, 35). At least twice, God had spoken from heaven with an audible voice to declare that Jesus was His beloved Son with whom He was well pleased (Mt 3:17; 17:5). He was known in heaven, on earth, and in hell as the Son of God. But Jesus also demonstrated His unique power as the Son of God through His words and deeds. When He taught, He amazed the people because of the divine authority of His words (Mk 1:27; Lk 4:32). In one of the most telling of His miracles, He told a paralytic man that his sins were forgiven. When the religious scribes protested that He was blaspheming, for only God can forgive sins, Jesus said, “Which is easier to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven’; or to say, ‘Get up, and pick up your pallet and walk’? But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins,” He said to the paralytic, “I say to you, get up, pick up your pallet and go home.” And the Bible says that he got up and immediately picked up the pallet and went out (Mk 2:5-12).

He was not making Himself out to be the Son of God. He had existed from the beginning as the Son of God, or God the Son as we may say, and proved His radical claims over and over. Ultimately, on the Sunday after His crucifixion, He would provide the ultimate proof by rising from the dead. In Romans 1:4, Paul says that He “was declared the Son of God with power by the resurrection from the dead.”

Yes, Jesus made radical claims – like the claim to be the unique Son of God – and those claims created a lot of trouble. But you and I must do what the religious leaders of Israel were never willing to do. We must consider whether or not these claims, no matter how radical they were, might be true. When Jesus ascended into heaven, He commanded His followers to continue to spread His message to all nations. He did not commission them to draw pictures, but to write and to proclaim His Word, because in His Word we come face to face with His radical claims. That is something many people refuse to do. And they would say that this is the trouble with Jesus. He was always making these sorts of radical claims about Himself.

But our text shows us yet one more thing some would say is the trouble with Jesus.

III. The trouble with Jesus is that He strikes dread in the hearts of those who don’t know Him. (v8)

In the first chapter of his book, The Problem of Pain, C. S. Lewis asks us to suppose

…. you were told there was a tiger in the next room: you would know that you were in danger and would probably feel fear. But if you were told “There is a ghost in the next room,” and believed it, you would feel, indeed, what is often called fear, but of a different kind. It would not be based on the knowledge of danger, for no one is primarily afraid of what a ghost may do to him, but of the mere fact that it is a ghost.[5]

Lewis says that this is a special kind of fear that may be called “Dread.” He says, “Now suppose that you were told simply ‘There is a mighty spirit in the room,’ and believed it. … [T]he disturbance would be profound. You would feel wonder and a certain shrinking.” Lewis says, “This feeling may be described as awe, and the object which excites it as the Numinous.”[6] It is like that feeling you get when you are all alone, and suddenly feel as though you are not alone. It is akin to the sensation you have when, in the middle of the night, you hear a noise, and do not know what caused it. Maybe it is nothing, or maybe it is something – something that could be wonderful or terrible for all you know. In his most well-known book, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Lewis says that when Mr. Beaver said that Aslan was on the move, “None of the children knew who Aslan was … but the moment the Beaver had spoken these words everyone felt quite different. … At the name of Aslan each one of the children felt something jump in its inside.”[7] It was an encounter with the Numinous.

I suggest to you that this is exactly what came over Pontius Pilate upon hearing the officials say that Jesus had claimed to be the Son of God. Verse 8 says that “when Pilate heard this statement, he was even more afraid.” There was already a spark of fear within him as he dealt with Jesus. His wife had warned him of an ominous dream she had about Him the night before (Mt 27:19), and he had surely detected that there was something unusual about Jesus as he had interviewed him. Now that spark of fear was fanned into full flame as he heard these words, “Son of God.” It was the awestruck dread of the Numinous.

Though Pilate was a well-educated man, and a seemingly hardened cynic, like any other Roman, he was a deeply superstitious man. The Roman universe was haunted by the stories of a pantheon of deities and their half-divine offpring who sojourned among men from time to time. Though he’d never personally experienced it, he’d heard enough stories to believe it was just barely possible. And if possible, then perhaps this was just such an encounter. Perhaps here one of those stories that he had written off as mythology was becoming a fact before his very eyes. If this Jesus is who He says He is, then Pilate has just had a divine Person scourged and beaten to a bloody pulp. Surely, there would be a literal hell to pay.

So far as we know from Scripture and secular history, Pilate never acted on the dread that he experienced at the sound of Jesus’ claim to be the Son of God. His life ended in a shame, being deposed from his position and later taking his own life. How different it might have been for him if he had turned that moment in faith and repentance to the Son of God who had struck such dread in his heart.

Jesus is still doing this. That’s the trouble with him, some would say. He strikes such a sense of dread in the hearts of those who refuse to believe in Him. You don’t believe me? Here’s a little experiment you can try. In a few weeks, when you gather with your family and loved ones for Thanksgiving, and the conversation lulls as everyone fills their mouths with food, simply say, “I thought it would be good for us to talk about Jesus together.” Watch the looks on their faces. The room may clear, or a food fight might erupt. No one wants to do business with this dreadful deity, for to do so will mean confronting one’s own sins.

I remember the day well. It was a sunny summer day, and I found myself on a bench on the back side of Oak Island with a Bible in my hand. Before that day, I had never given thought to the possibility of God, much less of Jesus Christ. I had been invited, almost dared, by my Christian friends to join them for a week of summer camp. Every morning there was a Bible reading assignment, and I decided I would play along. On the final morning, there I sat on my little bench reading. I sat down an atheist. Before I got up, I was convinced that there was a God, that Jesus Christ was God in human flesh, and that He was as near to me as if He were sitting on the bench with me. But my only thought was of my own sinfulness. Seemingly every sin I had ever committed, every time I had taken His name in vain, every time I had ever blasphemed Him, every time I had ever rejected and debated Christians who sought to persuade me, came flooding back. To me, it was all very bad news. I spent the rest of that day in a fog of holy dread, fully aware that I had a well-deserved sentence of eternal hell awaiting me. But that evening, I heard the Good News … that Jesus had come to die for my sins so that I could be forgiven and have a personal relationship with God. My fear turned to joy as I surrendered myself to Him.

C. S. Lewis says that when he began to read the Gospels, he found them to be very unique. They were not like the myths he had grown up reading. They presented a Person, Jesus Christ, who was so “numinous, lit by a light from beyond the world.” He confessed, “if ever a myth had become fact, had been incarnated, it would be just like this. … Here and here only in all time the myth must have become fact; the Word, flesh; God, Man.”[8]

Here before Pilate stood this One – the numinous Word-made-flesh, God-become-Man, more real than all the mythology of his culture and tradition. He struck dread in Pilate’s heart. Maybe you have experienced the same. That’s the trouble with Jesus. He has a way of doing that. He isn’t going to just go away. He’s going to keep thrusting those radical claims that He made upon your conscience. And there will be this gnawing sense of dread at even the mention of His name. That’s the trouble with Jesus. Deny Him, avoid Him, ignore Him, or as these in our text found out, even kill Him. But He isn’t going away, He isn’t shutting up, and He isn’t leaving you alone. It is only as you turn to Him in repentance of your sin and faith that He is Lord and He is the Savior who can deliver us from sin, that dread becomes joy, and life becomes abundant and eternal in Him, and with Him. The Son of God has become a man, and lived among us in the Person of Jesus Christ. He died for our sins, and conquered sin and death by His resurrection, and thus He was declared with power to be the Son of God.

What’s the trouble with Jesus? Well, as it turns out, there’s really not any trouble with Jesus. There’s only trouble with us, who keep wanting Him to go away, to be quiet, and to leave us alone. He’s never going to do that. There is no trouble with Him, but He has come to bear the trouble of us all.

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[1] Quoted in Robert Mounce, “John” in The Expositor’s Bible Commentary (rev. ed.; Vol. 10; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005), 614.

[2] C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy in The Inspirational Writings of C. S. Lewis (New York: Inspirational Press, 1994), 1:106. 

[3] Ibid., 1:124-1:125.

[4] John Calvin, John (Crossway Classic Commentaries; Wheaton, Ill.: Crossway, 1994), 422.

[5] C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1996), 14-15.

[6] Ibid., 15.

[7] C. S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (New York: HarperCollins, 1994), 67-68.

[8] Lewis, Surprised by Joy, 1:129. 

Behold the Man! (John 19:1-5)

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Behold the Man

John 19:1-5

In 1871, the Italian government commissioned Antonio Ciseri to produce yet another of his famed religious works. This one would be his last, and it could be well said that he saved the best for last. The painting was entitled Ecce Homo, or in English, “Behold the Man,” and Ciseri completed it just days before he died. The scene is that of our text today, the announcement of Pilate as he brings Jesus out following the torture, and says the crowd, “Behold the Man!” The painting is regarded today as a masterpiece for its brilliant use of light and shadows. Of course, the scene had been painted by many artists before, famous and obscure. But Ciseri did something that few if any known artists had ever done. He painted the scene with the major characters’ backs to the viewer. In almost every other painting of this scene, we look into the face of Jesus and the face of Pilate. Ciseri seems to want us, the viewers of his painting, to find ourselves there on the portico of the Praetorium, as part of the court, presenting Jesus to the world for all to see His sufferings.

Whether that was his intention or not, it is in fact what we as the followers of Christ have been called to do. We are to put the Lord Jesus on display, and allow the world to see how He has suffered, and we are to call to them, “Behold the Man!” So, how is the world to behold Him? What is it that the world should see in Him when they behold Him? The study of our text will lead us to discover the answers to this question.

I. Behold the Man who endured such undeserved suffering!

Notice in verse 4, as Pilate brings Jesus back into view of the people, he announces his verdict on Jesus’ charges: “Behold, I am bringing Him out to you so that you may know that I find no guilt in Him.” It was the second time he’d announced the same verdict. In Chapter 18, verse 38, Pilate had announced, “I find no guilt in Him.” In the parallel account in Luke’s Gospel, Pilate says, “Behold, nothing deserving death has been done by Him. Therefore I will punish Him and release Him” (Lk 23:15-16).

The irony of that statement is terrible. “He is not guilty, therefore I will punish Him.” Pilate obviously thought that this was a safe compromise. Perhaps it would appease the Jewish authorities who were demanding Jesus’ death, and teach Jesus a lesson to keep His mouth shut and avoid trouble in the future. So, verse 1 of our text says that Pilate took Jesus and scourged Him. Scourging was carried out in that day in three forms. The first was a less severe beating for relatively light offenses. It was a sort of warning to the victim. The second was a bit more severe, a brutal torture rendered as a punishment for more serious crimes. The third was the most severe of all, and was always rendered alongside of additional punishments, including crucifixion. On this most severe form of scourging, the victim would be stripped down and tied to a post. Several soldiers would take turns beating the offender, until they were exhausted or their commander ordered them to cease. Typically, the beatings would involve the use of a leather whip with a handle and several ends. Later in history, these implements would be known as “the cat o’ nine tails.” In each of the leather ends, there would be embedded with pieces of bone, shards of metal, nails, or pieces of broken glass. When this whip was laid across the back, it would dig into the skin and peel it back as it was withdrawn. Eyewitness accounts indicate that such torture could leave the bones and internal organs exposed, and many victims of this form of scourging died from the injuries and blood-loss.[1]

So, which of these did Jesus endure? It is often assumed that Jesus endured the final one of these, and it is almost certain that He did. But, this would come later. Here, you will notice that this scourging takes place before Pilate ordered Jesus to be crucified. Here, as in Luke, the aim was to punish Him and release Him. But in Matthew and Mark, a scourging is recorded after the death sentence. That would have been the more severe form; while the one mentioned in John and alluded to in Luke is the less severe one. The one mentioned here in our text was intended to make an example of Jesus and to placate the bloodthirst of the Jewish officials. But, make no mistake about it, when we say it was “less severe,” it was still very severe. Jesus would have come away from it beaten and bloodied. As Pilate brings Him out into plain view, He says, “Behold the Man!” It seems that he intends to say something like, “Here, are you satisfied? Even though I find no guilt in Him, I have made Him suffer.”

Friends, I want you today to “behold the Man,” Jesus Christ as one who endured such undeserved suffering. He never once protested. He never fought back, and He never tried to escape or flee. First Peter 2:22-23 says that He “committed no sin, nor was any deceit found in his mouth; and while being reviled, He did not revile in return; while suffering, He uttered no threats.” As John Piper said, “No one ever deserved suffering less, yet received so much. … The only person in history who did not deserve to suffer, suffered most. … None of Jesus’ pain was a penalty for His sin. He had no sin.”[2]

Behold Him, the bloody and beaten innocent Man. It doesn’t make sense, does it? Perhaps it will if we behold Him more closely through the eyes of heart and behold Him in another way.    

I invite  you to …

II. Behold the Man who bore the curse of creation.  

I love to go hiking, especially this time of year when the weather is just perfect: a warm sunny day with just a little nip of cool in the air. And sometimes when I’m feeling a little adventurous, I like to wander off the trail and explore what’s out there. You know what’s out there? Thorns. A lot of them. A lot of different kinds of them. And they all hurt. How did they get there? There is no hero of American folklore called Johnny Thornseed who went around planting all these thorns. They’re just there, all over the place, all over the world. 

The Bible actually tells us about the origin of thorns. When God created man, He placed Adam in a garden, and the Bible says that “out of the ground, the Lord God caused to grow every tree that is pleasing to the sight and good for food” (Gen 2:9). But there was one tree, the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, that Adam was to never eat from. You know the story … the serpent tempted Eve to eat of that forbidden fruit, and she offered it to Adam, and he ate it. In the confrontation that followed between God and Adam, the Lord said, “Because you have listened to the voice of your wife (implying that he listened to her instead of the Lord), and have eaten from the tree about which I commanded you, saying, ‘You shall not eat from it’; Cursed is the ground because of you; In toil you will eat of it all the days of your life.” Prior to this, there was no toil in the cultivation of the garden – the fruits and vegetables of the plants there grew readily and abundantly for Adam and Eve to enjoy. But now, because of sin, they would have to toil to provide food for themselves. The Lord said, “Both thorns and thistles it shall grow for you” (Gen 3:17-18) Weeds, thorns, thistles, and all those things that make gardening a never-ending labor came into being as a curse on the ground because of man’s sin. And the curse of sin has spread over the whole earth. Thorns are an ever-present reminder that the world is not as it ought to be, that it is under the curse of sin. As one scholar has written, “In two dozen books of the Old Testament and New Testament, thorn imagery pokes its way into poems, stories, histories and parables. … Bible writers find varied uses for such imagery, but their references to thorns are always negative.”[3] They represent the curse of sin and its effects on the world and on the human race.

There are dozens of indigenous thorn-bearing plants in the Near and Middle East. One of the most abundant varieties is the date palm. These thorns grow out from the base of the leaf-stalks and can range from four to six inches long. Injuries from these thorns are common, causing severe pain and serious infection. It is a strong possibility that these thorny date palm stalks are what the soldiers used to twist together a crown to place on Jesus’ head in verse 2 of our text. Whether it was the date palm or some other thorny plant that was used, the intent of the soldiers was to engage in a brutal game of mock-coronation with this One who was said to be styling Himself as the King of the Jews. The Jewish religious leaders considered the claim a blasphemous pretention, and they sought to persuade Pilate that Jesus was a revolutionary who posed a significant threat to Roman authority. So the soldiers engage in a bit of malicious sport with Him.

If Jesus is a king, then He should have a crown, so they fashion this wicked diadem from the thorny branches and place it upon His head. The thorns puncture the flesh and the blood begins to flow. Not content, they find an old soldier’s cloak laying around. It was once scarlet, but time and the light of the sun had faded it to a faint purple. Purple was the color of royalty, because the dye was rare and expensive. This was close enough. Now, enrobed and crowned, the ceremony can proceed. When a Roman emperor ascended to power, he would be greeted with cries of “Ave Imperator,” “Hail Emperor!” The soldiers give Jesus His own acclamation: “Hail, King of the Jews!” But their salutations are accompanied by slaps to the face. Matthew says that they spat on Him, and beat Him in the head with a reed that they had given Him as a mock scepter. Every strike of that reed drove the thorns deeper (27:30).

Though their intention was shame and mockery, the soldiers acted better than they knew. This Man whom they crowned with thorns was indeed bearing the curse of sin upon His head. He is the promised Redeemer who would come into the world to take away sin and its curse by His suffering, His death, and His resurrection. Thus, the sinless Jesus was bearing upon His head the thorns that grow in this world because of our rebellion against Almighty God, dating back to the first man, Adam, and continuing through the lives of every single one of his descendants.

In words often attributed to Bernard of Clairvaux, the 12^th Century monk and preacher, our hymn, “O Sacred Head Now Wounded” expresses the truth beautifully:

O sacred Head, now wounded with grief and shame weighed down;

Now scornfully surrounded with thorns, Thine only crown.

How pale Thou art with anguish, with sore abuse and scorn;

How does that visage languish, which once was bright as morn!

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered was all for sinners’ gain;

Mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain.

Behold the Man who bears the curse of sin that was upon all creation here upon His head, this crowny thorn that precedes the bloody cross. He bore our curse in our place, as a substitute of the righteous for the sinful. “Behold Him,” Pilate said to the crowd. See what the evil of human sin has done to the sinless One who is presented before us all. We must behold Him! Behold the Man who endured such undeserved suffering! Behold the Man who bears the curse of all creation! And finally …

III. Behold the Man who reconciles us to God.

Today we have planned our worship service around the commemoration of Reformation Day – the anniversary of Martin Luther’s posting of the 95 Theses on the Wittenburg Church door, October 31, 1517, 498 years ago yesterday. We began our service by reading the Scripture passage that opened Luther’s eyes to the light of the Gospel of salvation by faith alone in Christ alone – Romans 1:13-17. We sang Luther’s great hymn, “A Mighty Fortress is Our God.” We sang the hymn, “The Church’s One Foundation is Jesus Christ, her Lord,” as a reminder that the true Church of Jesus Christ reemerged through the Gospel preaching of the Reformers. We sang “O God, Our Help in Ages Past,” written by Isaac Watts, a descendant of the English Reformation, which reminds us that the same God who was active and at work in history is still active and at work now, and will be forevermore. One of the great triumphs of the Reformation was returning the Word of God to the common man by making it available in the vernacular of Christians around the world. Luther was a pioneer in this, translating the Bible from Hebrew and Greek into German. Luther would call this his crowning achievement. And when he came to John 19:5, Luther translated Pilate’s words into a German phrase that we could most literally translate into English as, “Behold! What a Man!” Though Luther’s translation might have missed the mark of Pilate’s intention, the words are a fitting response from all who behold the Lord Jesus! “Behold! What a Man!”

Of course, Jesus was more than just a Man. He is the incarnate God! He is the Living Word of God, who existed from the beginning with God and as God, and who became flesh to dwell among us (Jn 1:1, 14). But though Jesus was more than a Man, He was fully a Man. He was the perfect Man, the Man who lived His entire earthly life in human flesh without sin and in perfect obedience to the will and word of His Father. In His fully human body, He suffered, and bled and died. He endured the full measure of sufferings that were due to us because of our sin, enduring the full outpouring of human hatred in His sufferings, and the righteous wrath of God in His death. He did this so that our sins could be dealt with fully and finally in Himself as our substitute sin-bearer, that we might be forgiven, declared righteous, and reconciled to God by faith in Him. Paul says in 1 Timothy 2:5, “There is one God, and one Mediator also between God and men, the Man Christ Jesus.” Behold the Man who reconciles us to God by the sufferings He endured in His body, by the death He died in our place, and by the resurrection by which He defeated sin and death, broke the curse, and set us free to live for God now, and with God forever in heaven.

He wore the crown of thorns for us, that we might wear the crown of victory with Him. He wore the robe of shame and humiliation for us, that we might wear the robe of righteousness bestowed upon us by Him. He bore all the contempt of sinful humanity for a season on earth, that we might bear the glory of grace forever in heaven. And there, we shall behold Him, not as the beaten, bloody and broken sufferer, but as the glorious conqueror; not as the thorn-crowned King, but as the King of all kings and Lord of all lords.

A story is told of Count Nicholaus Von Zinzendorf, the 18^th Century German nobleman. As a young man, after completing his studies, Zinzendorf set out to travel for an extended period. While visiting an art gallery in Dusseldorf, he came upon a painting by Domenica Feti entitled Ecce Homo (“Behold the Man”). It is a portrait of Christ, wearing the crown of thorns, with a weary expression upon His face. Across the bottom of the painting, Feti had inscribed these words in Latin: “This have I suffered for you; now what will you do for Me?” Zinzendorf was struck by these words for some time. Ultimately, he devoted himself to the service of Christ, and helped shape the Moravian Church into one of the mightiest Christian missionary movements in history. Zinzendorf beheld the Man, and it transformed him, and as a result, he impacted the world for Christ.

Have you beheld the Man? O that we all might behold Him by faith as the One who bore our sufferings and broke our curse to reconcile us to God! Behold Him, and follow Him with your life! Behold the Man!

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[1] D. A. Carson, The Gospel According to John (Pillar New Testament Commentary; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991), 597.

[2] John Piper, Seeing and Savoring Jesus Christ (Wheaton, Ill.: Crossway, 2004), 67-68.

[3] Leland Ryken, James C. Wilhoit, Tremper Longman III, gen. eds., Dictionary of Biblical Imagery (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity, 1998), 865.

And Can It Be? (John 18:38-40)

Audio 

I want to introduce you to a man named Barabbas. He is only mentioned in one verse of John’s Gospel, here in verse 40, where his name occurs twice. Don’t let this fact mislead you, however, into thinking that he is an insignificant character. In fact, he is so significant that he is mentioned by name a total of eleven times in all four Gospels. When we combine the information that we have about him in the four Gospels, we learn more about Barabbas than we know even about some of the Lord’s twelve disciples. But why is the story of Barabbas so significant that it garners this kind of attention from the Gospel writers? It is because Barabbas’s story is our own story. In Barabbas, we find a picture of the saving work of Jesus Christ.

As I examine the story of Barabbas unfolded for us in the New Testament, I am reminded of the words of one of the greatest hymns ever written: Charles Wesley’s “And Can it Be.” Often described as Wesley’s “conversion hymn,” no hymn more vividly portrays the miracle of salvation from sin through faith in Jesus Christ than this one does. I cannot sing it without thinking of the wonders of God’s grace in my own conversion experience. I have a similar experience when I consider this man Barabbas. So, as we look at the Biblical account of Barabbas, I want to do so through the lens of Wesley’s hymn, and lead us to discover together the miracle of redemption and regeneration in Jesus Christ. This miracle has happened to all who trust in Christ, and can happen to whosoever will!

I. Long my imprisoned spirit lay fast bound in sin and nature’s night.

These are the words that Charles Wesley used (in the third verse of the hymn as we now know it) to describe his life before he came into a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. He viewed himself as a prisoner to sin and darkness. Those words are true in a spiritually metaphorical way for all of us in our natural condition. We are born enslaved and imprisoned to sin. Many will protest this and insist that they are “good people.” Indeed, even Charles Wesley could have said this about himself. He was raised in a Christian home as the son of a minister and a godly mother. During his college years, along with his brother John and some of their friends, Charles was part of a group known as the “Holy Club” because of their rigorous devotion to spiritual disciplines such as prayer, Bible study, and practical holiness. In 1735, he was ordained to the ministry of the Church of England and set sail for the colony of Georgia where he became missionary chaplain. His stint in the colony lasted just less than a year, and he never found acceptance among the settlers. In 1736, he returned home to England feeling as if the entire venture had been a disaster. In a few short years, Wesley would come to understand that in spite of all of his good deeds and service in the name of Christ, he did not really know Christ. He had never been truly born again, and so he speaks of himself in this hymn as being long imprisoned, bound in sin and nature’s night.

What was true in a spiritually metaphorical sense of Wesley was true in an altogether literal sense for Barabbas. In our text in John’s Gospel, we read that he was a robber. The Greek word here translated as “robber” literally means “one who seizes plunder.” The word, however, was often used in the first century to mean far more than this. It could denote someone who had taken part in a rebellion. Mark tells us that Barabbas had been imprisoned with the insurrectionists who had committed murder, and Luke tells us that Barabbas had been a participant in these crimes (Mk 15:7; Lk 23:19). He must have made quite a name for himself in the act, for Matthew tells us that he was “a notorious prisoner” (Mt 27:16). It is not certain which insurrection effort Barabbas had taken part in, for during the time that Judea was under the control of the Roman Empire there had been many failed attempts. From the perspective of a nationalistic Jew, he would have been known as a guerilla freedom-fighter. From the perspective of the Roman Empire, he would have been rightly regarded as a terrorist. His guilt was evident to all, even to himself. His sentence was imprisonment to what we could call “death row.” We may infer that he was scheduled to be executed by crucifixion on the following day, for the criminals who were executed alongside of Jesus are called by this same title (Mt 27:44; Mk 15:27). The sentence was well-deserved, and he knew it. We do not know how long he had languished in his shackles awaiting the day, but he could say as well as Wesley, “Long my imprisoned spirit lay, fast bound in sin and nature’s night.”

My friends, the same could be said by us all. Barabbas and Charles Wesley may well represent two extremes of mankind in his natural condition. One was a notorious murdering rebel; the other a deeply pious and religious man. Yet, what they had in common with each other and will all of the rest of us is their need to be saved. No matter how good or bad you are – a member of the Holy Club, or a terrorist, or something in between – we are all sinners. The Bible says that this is true of every human being and our personal experiences in life confirm it. We are born in a state of rebellion to God, insurrectionists who seek to overthrow His right to reign as Lord of our lives. And we are all worse than we imagine ourselves to be. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says that everyone who looks at a woman with lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart (Mt 5:28). He said that anger toward another was of equal guilt before God as murder (5:21-22). James 2:10 says that whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles in one point has become guilty of violating the whole law. That means that when we stand before God, in our natural condition, we stand on level ground with Charles Wesley and with Barabbas. No matter how good or bad we think we are, we are all equally guilty sinners before the bar of judgment. We are rebels, with all manner of evil in our hearts, spiritual terrorists, imprisoned in sin and deserving of death and separation from God. The Apostle Paul says in Romans 3:10, “There is none righteous, not even one,” and in 3:23, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” That was true of Barabbas; it was true of Charles Wesley, and it is true of you and me in our natural born condition.

This brings us to the second consideration …

II. He left His Father’s throne above, so free, so infinite His grace.

With these words, in the second stanza of Wesley’s hymn, the divine origin of the Lord Jesus Christ is set forth. From His infinite treasure of love and mercy, in the free grace of unmerited kindness toward the human race, He came forth from heaven to earth. In the incarnation of Jesus Christ, God became a man. He came to do what no man in all the history of creation, from Adam and including him to the present day, has ever been able to do. He lived a life completely free of the guilt of sin. Not only was He totally free from all sin, but He was completely, and perfectly righteous. That is, He not only never did wrong; He always and only did what was right, what was pleasing to God the Father and in perfect accordance with His will.

In the exercise of His earthly life and ministry, Jesus confronted evil wherever it was found. And in first century Judea, a dark heart of evil lay covered by the external piety of the Jewish religious leaders. He called them out as hypocrites, as thieves, and as spiritually blind guides who were not only ignorant of God’s truth, but also inventors of evil under the guise of religiosity. Under the pretense of righteousness, they tried to brand Him as a blasphemer because He claimed equality with God. To be sure, when one claims equality with God, it is the highest form of blasphemy – unless, of course, the claim is true. And Jesus had proven the truth of His claims by His many miracles and His teaching which set forth the heart of God and the true meaning of God’s Word. Never able to outmaneuver Him with Scripture or logic, the religious authorities had one final recourse to silence Jesus, and that was to put Him to death. This they could not do without Pilate’s ruling. Knowing that Pilate would not be willing to intervene in debates about Jewish religion, they manufactured charges against Jesus that would portray Him as an insurrectionist – a threat to Roman authority, stability, and peace in the land.

Pilate examined Jesus thoroughly. John only records a portion of the exchange, but the other Gospels contain more information. Luke records that Pilate even shipped Jesus off to Herod Antipas in an attempt to recuse himself from the responsibility of rendering a verdict. As tetrarch of Galilee, Herod was the senior Jewish political official in the land. This maneuver backfired as Herod sent Jesus back to Pilate. The decision had to be made. And Pilate ultimately made a decision and announced it to the crowd: “I find no guilt in Him.” In Luke 23, the statement is fuller: “I have found no guilt in this man regarding the charges which you make against Him. … and behold, nothing deserving death has been done by Him.” Thus we must all conclude if we consider the full truth about Jesus.

Throughout the Bible there is a link between sin and death. In Genesis 2, God commanded that Adam must not eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, saying, “in the day that you eat from it you will surely die.” In Romans 5, Paul says that sin entered the world through one man (Adam), and “death through sin, and so death spread to all men, because all sinned.” In Romans 6:23, it is stated as succinctly as possible: “The wages of sin is death.” And Pilate’s testimony of Jesus is as true a statement as any man ever made: “I find no guilt in Him.”

Jesus was not guilty and did not deserve to die. Barabbas was guilty and deserved to die. Barabbas stands guilty and deserving of the sentence of death because of His rebellion against Roman authority. If Barabbas deserves death because of His rebellion against Rome, how much more do we all deserve death because of our sinful rebellion against the God of the universe. Barabbas deserves this. We deserve this. Jesus does not. In the words of Charles Wesley, “He left His Father’s throne above, so free, so infinite His grace. Emptied Himself of all but love, and bled for Adam’s helpless race.”

Now we can begin to see more clearly how it is that Barabbas presents us with a picture of redemption, and how his story parallels our own.

III. And can it be that I should gain an interest in the Savior’s blood? 

In the hymn’s opening stanza, Wesley speaks of gaining an interest in the blood of Jesus. Writing, as he did, in the middle of the 18^th Century, the word “interest” would carry something of the idea of a “benefit.” He is said to have begun writing this hymn within days of his conversion, and the opening line expresses his amazement that the blood which Jesus shed in His death could be of some benefit to him personally. I imagine that the very thought of it would have been just as overwhelming to Barabbas.

Pilate was caught between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, he couldn’t knowingly condemn an innocent man. Had he simply announced his verdict and proclaimed the matter settled, he might have gone down in history differently. But, Pilate also had an interest in appeasing the Jewish leaders. His political position depended on his ability to keep a volatile region under control and at rest. So, he seized upon a loophole that he was sure would get him out of the fix. He says in verse 39, “But you have a custom that I release someone for you at the Passover.” His obvious assumption was that the people would see the folly of condemning an innocent man, and so he set the matter before them in this way: “Do you wish then that I release for you the King of the Jews?” How surprised he must have been that the crowd demanded the release of Barabbas instead!

The other Gospels tell us that the chief priests and elders had persuaded, had stirred up, the crowd to ask for Barabbas. They had a twofold reason for persuading the crowd in this direction. Jesus was a threat to them because He spoke the truth. Barabbas was a threat to Rome, having already committed murder in an effort to liberate the nation from Rome’s oppression. The exchange of Barabbas for Jesus was a win-win situation for the religious leaders of Israel. But why did the crowds comply so willingly? As a preacher of a bygone era put it, “The memory of all the gracious words and life-giving actions of Jesus did not subdue the raging passion of their lust; they could neither see with their eyes, nor hear with their ears, nor understood with their hearts. The light that was in them was darkened. … Human power and popular feeling and corporate conscience reached the bottomless abyss of destruction.”[1]

Barabbas, a man who actually did pose a threat to Rome, would be set free, while Jesus, whom Pilate was convinced posed no political threat to Rome, would go to the cross.

Isn’t it striking that the accusation that sent Jesus to the cross was the same one that threatened to send Barabbas there? Barabbas was an insurrectionist, complicit in a murderous, bloody rebellion to overthrow Rome. This is the very same charge that was falsely applied to Jesus – that in claiming to be the Son of God, He was setting Himself up as a deity (in defiant opposition to the Roman Emperor’s claims to deity) and as the true King of Israel (in opposition to Rome’s oppression of Judea). And it was for those charges – charges that were true of Barabbas, but not of Jesus – that Jesus was crucified.

It was a blatant perversion of justice. Proverbs 17:15 says “He who justifies the wicked and he who condemns the righteous, both of them alike are an abomination to the Lord.” And yet, this travesty of injustice took place under the sovereign oversight of God. Reflecting back on the murder of Jesus, the early church prayed to God in Acts 4, saying, “truly in this city there were gathered together against Your holy servant Jesus, whom You anointed, both Herod and Pontius Pilate, along with the Gentiles and the peoples of Israel, to do whatever Your hand and Your purpose predestined to occur” (Ac 4:27-28). If the question is how such an injustice could have ever happened among civilized people, the answer is that God willed it! Why would God do such a thing … such a thing that He Himself had declared to be an abomination? It is because in this act of substitution, God Himself was bearing the condemnation of our wickedness in our place, so that we could be set free from our imprisonment from sin and actually made righteous by faith in Him.

You see, Jesus not only took upon Himself the charges that stood against Barabbas, but He took upon Himself the charges that stand against us all. We have gained an interest in the Savior’s blood because He died to take our penalty, that our sins could be condemned in Him as our substitute, and we could be granted a pardon for our sins, and declared righteous. This is how Barabbas’s story becomes our own. Like Barabbas, we are guilty under the curse of condemnation because of our sin. But it was not the whims of the crowd, but the will of Almighty God that His only begotten Son might go to the cross we deserve so that we could be set free. In 2 Corinthians 5:21, it is written that God made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.

Frank Mead gives us a beautiful and imaginative picture of Barabbas.

Barabbas, the brigand, shook his chains. … Tomorrow Roman nails would pierce [his] hands. Barabbas had been caught red-handed at rebellion, and he had to die. His cross was ready. … [But] his door flew open and light streamed in. “Come out … Barabbas; you’re free! Jesus of Nazareth will die in your place.” … They led him to the prison door and turned him loose in the sunny street. He walked off, blinking, afraid to laugh, afraid to cry.[2]

At verse 40 of our text, Barabbas exits the stage of biblical and secular history. Nothing more is known of him. Did he ever comprehend what Jesus had done for him by dying in his place? Only in heaven will we find out. For if he ever did understand it, he will be there. And so will all who receive this pardon that has been made available to us through the substitutionary death of Jesus. But not all will.

Consider the unusual case of George Wilson, who was sentenced to death in 1829 for murder and the robbery of mail trains. In 1830, Wilson was offered a pardon by President Andrew Jackson. For some unfathomable reason, Wilson refused the pardon. The legal wranglings over his right to refuse the pardon eventually came before the Supreme Court of the United States. Chief Justice John Marshall wrote in the majority opinion, “A pardon is an act of grace … which exempts the individual, on whom it is bestowed, from the punishment the law inflicts for a crime he has committed. … A pardon is a deed, to the validity of which delivery is essential, and delivery is not complete without acceptance. It may then be rejected by the person to whom it is tendered; and if it be rejected, we have discovered no power in a court to force it on him.”[3] As a result of his refusal of the pardon, Wilson was hanged.

Like George Wilson, many have refused the even greater pardon of the Judge of the Living and the Dead, Jesus Christ. He has satisfied the wages of their sins by receiving in Himself the penalty upon the cross. And yet, when the free offer of grace is extended, they refuse it. Did Barabbas receive the pardon? It is nothing but a matter of historical trivia at this point. But, it is infinitely more important that you decide whether or not you will receive the pardon.

J. C. Ryle said this: “We are pardoned, though guilty, because of what Christ has done for us. We are sinners, yet counted righteous. Christ is righteous, yet counted a sinner. Happy is that man who understands and believes this …, who has laid hold on it by faith for the salvation of his own soul.”[4]

Have you understood and believed that? Charles Wesley did. Wesley understood that all of his righteous deeds were but filthy rags before the Lord, and he, like Barabbas, stood guilty and condemned before Almighty God because of his sin. And on the evening of May 21, 1738, after much consideration of the promises of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, Wesley said, “I gave myself to Christ, assured that I was safe. … I now found myself at peace with God, and rejoiced in hope of loving Christ. I saw that by faith I stood.”[5] Two days later, he began to compose these words:

And can it be that I should gain an interest in the Savior’s blood?

Died He for me, who caused His pain – For me, who Him to death pursued?

Amazing love! How can it be, that Thou my God, shouldst die for me?

He left His Father’s throne above, so free, so infinite grace –

Emptied Himself of all but love, and bled for Adam’s helpless race:

‘Tis mercy all, immense and free, for O my God, it found out me!

Long my imprisoned spirit lay, fast bound in sin and nature’s night;

Thine eye diffused a quick’ning ray – I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;

My chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose went forth and followed Thee.

No condemnation now I dread; Jesus, and all in Him, is mine;

Alive in Him, my Living Head, and clothed in righteousness divine,

Bold I approach the eternal throne, and claim the crown through Christ my own.

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[1] H.R. Reynolds, in H.D.M. Spence, ed., The Pulpit Commentary (Vol. 40; New York: Funk and Wagnalls, nd.), 398.

[2] Frank S. Mead, Who’s Who in the Bible (Old Tappan, NJ: Revell, 1976), 224.

[3] United States v. Wilson, http://press-pubs.uchicago.edu/founders/documents/a2_2_1s29.html. Accessed October 22, 2015.

[4] Quoted in Arno C. Gaebelein, The Gospel of John (Neptune, NJ: Loizeaux, 1965), 353.

[5] http://www.songsandhymns.org/hymns/detail/and-can-it-be. Accessed October 22, 2015. 

What Shall We Do With Jesus? (John 18:28-38)

Audio 

In the wake of recent political debates, political zeal is increasing in our nation. Rhetoric is intensifying from the camps of competing candidates. The pressure is on to identify oneself with this one or that one, or to align against this other one. On social media, one’s stance on a particular candidate has the potential to alienate some and infuriate others. But when we reach the end of our lives, it ultimately will not matter one iota which candidates we liked and which ones we didn’t, or which ones we voted for or against. And as important as the issues at stake are for our nation, at this point in the process, remaining undecided is still a viable option. But there are matters on which it is impossible to be indifferent or undecided. We may have to withhold judgment for now on which Republican or Democratic candidate would be the best leader for our nation, but when it comes to what we shall do with Jesus Christ in our lives, the decision must be made. It cannot be ignored, put off, or avoided. He said Himself, “He who is not with Me is against Me” (Mt 12:30). There are infinite and eternal consequences at stake, and there is no middle-ground.

Nowhere in Scripture is this more apparent than here in our text today. Following the informal interrogation before Annas (the man with the real religious authority in Jerusalem), and the more formal arraignment before Caiaphas (the man who held the post of high priest), the Jewish authorities bring Jesus to Pontius Pilate at the Praetorium. This word refers to the headquarters of the Roman government in a subject province. Pilate, as prefect of Judea, was normally headquartered at Caesarea. During religious festivals, such as Passover which was going on at this time, the Roman leadership would migrate to Jerusalem to keep a heavy hand on the surging population of pilgrims at a time of great religious and nationalistic fervor. While in Jerusalem, the Praetorium was likely in the Fortress of Antonia, just steps away from the outer court of the Temple. It was “early,” the text says. They had convened all night long in the adjoining palaces of Annas and Caiaphas, and at first light or just before, they brought Jesus to Pilate. The Romans divided up the night into four “watches.” The third was called “cockcrow” because of the regularity of the roosters crowing between 3 and 6 a.m. At six, dawn’s early light began to break the darkness for the watch which was simply called “early.” This was about the time that the Jewish officials showed up with Jesus at the Praetorium. This was not unusual, for many Roman officials in the ancient world customarily started their workdays before the rising of the sun, and wrapped up official matters by 10 or 11 a.m.

The Jewish authorities viewed this matter as a mere formality – a hoop through which they had to jump in route to a certain verdict. It was to be a slam dunk. Drag Jesus before Pilate on the basis of their trumped up charges against Him, and get Pilate to sign off on the execution order. Pilate was known to be a harsh and cruel man, and they must have assumed that the killing of one more Jew would bring him great pleasure. Perhaps offended by their presumptiveness, paranoid of creating an uprising, or alarmed by a dream that his wife had the night before about Jesus (recorded in Mt 27:19), or for some other equally unexpected reason, Pilate here shows a surprising measure of restraint and unpredictable impartiality. He insists on a fresh hearing in his presence. In what appears to be an uncharacteristic stand for justice, Pilate actually entraps himself in the impossibility of being indifferent to Jesus Christ. He becomes an example to us all that we must ultimately decide to be for Him or against Him. How do we do that? Pilate follows the right course, but ultimately falters in the conclusion. However, his footprints along that course help us come to the place of decision for ourselves. What shall we do with Jesus?

I. We must consider Jesus for ourselves. (vv28-32)

Do you like Indian food? I love Indian food. Now, if you had asked me ten years ago, I would have said that I didn’t. That’s because I’d never had it. I had often heard other people say that they didn’t like Indian food, so I figured I better not try it. I refused a tray of curry chicken on a transatlantic flight once, but other than that, the closest I’d ever come to an Indian meal was watching the dinner scene in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. But after being put in a situation where I had no other choice but to eat Indian food, I realized that all those other people I’d listened to (including Indiana Jones) had led me astray. I had to make a decision for myself, not rest on the decisions of others. Of course it really doesn’t matter whether or not you like Indian food, but it matters a great deal what you decide about Jesus. And you must decide for yourself.

Deciding for yourself means that you will not be persuaded by the baseless claims of others. Notice that Pilate went out to the Jewish authorities and asked, “What accusation do you bring to this man?” Notice their answer: “If this Man were not an evildoer, we would not have delivered Him to you.” In what conceivable way does this answer Pilate’s question? They had no charges to bring against Jesus, and they knew it! They’d bribed a couple of fellows, according to the other Gospels, to make up some charges, but even their testimonies could not agree (Mk 14:55-59). They’d built a theological case against Jesus because He defied their traditions and personally offended them, but they knew that they didn’t have a leg to stand on when it came to persuading Pilate. So they tried to dodge the question.

We will find the same thing in the religious rhetoric of our own day. People speak against Christ and against Christianity with venomous ire, and expect others to mindlessly follow along. Ask them questions before you do. What has Jesus done, or not done, to make you despise Him so? In what way has Jesus failed you? In what way have you definitively disproven His claims? What historical errors have you personally discovered in the Gospel accounts of His life and ministry? Most often, though they may become louder and more animated, they cannot provide actual answers to the questions. Many of them have themselves been persuaded by the baseless claims of a college professor they were intimidated by, a friend they admired, or a family member they respected. They have not considered Jesus for themselves, and they merely want you to follow them in their own folly. Like the Jewish officials before Pilate, they have baseless claims that they cannot substantiate. If you would consider Jesus for yourself, you will not be persuaded by that.   

Deciding for yourself also means that you will not be persuaded by the biased claims of others. The Jewish authorities had a reason to reject Jesus, just not a good one. He had exposed their hypocrisy and their sin through His teachings and His encounters with them and cast a shadow on their reputation, thus threatening their power and influence over the populace. They could not outreason Him, either with holy Scripture or human logic, so their only recourse to silence Him was to kill Him. Jesus knew that this was their intent. He had warned His disciples numerous times in advance that He would be put to death, even alluding to the manner of His death. He spoke of being “lifted up,” which could only refer to the Roman torture of crucifixion. But the Jews could not do this without Pilate, because Roman law deprived conquered peoples of the power of capital punishment. That is why they say, “We are not permitted to put anyone to death.”

The hypocrisy of these officials is evident here in the text: They are so concerned for their ritual purity that they would not even enter the Praetorium, for entering a Gentile’s residence would defile them. But they think nothing of killing an innocent man, and violating every underlying tenet of the very law they claim to uphold to secure their wishes. Not to mention their hypocritical pandering to Pilate, whom most of them would have despised anyway. He was one of the most hated men in Judea because of his cruel treatment of the people and his repeated defilements of their religious sensitivities and the temple of Jerusalem. But the officials play to him as if he is their best friend in order to gain what they want from him. They need his signature on the death order, so they had to pander to him, even though they hated him. Their bias against Jesus had completely distorted their entire value system beyond what it already was!

We find the same today, do we not? When people lambast Jesus Christ or His followers in the public square, is not often the case that the axe they have to grind relates to His confrontation and condemnation of their pet sins and their hypocrisy? Jesus said in John 3:19, “Light has come into the world, and men loved the darkness rather than the Light, for their deeds were evil.” Else the case may be that Christ and His sword-like word has cut against the grain of their treasured beliefs and traditions, and without even considering the possibility that His words are true, they reject Him. They will say, for instance, that Jesus could not have performed the miracles recorded in the Bible because miracles are impossible. Ah, but it is the impossibility of them that make them miraculous. And if such phenomena actually took place in history, then they are not so impossible after all. But rather than investigating the historical authenticity of the reports of Jesus’ mighty works, they write them off by their preconceived bias that supernatural deeds are not possible. If you would consider Jesus for yourself, you will not be persuaded by biased claims.

In Matthew 16, Jesus presented His disciples with two questions. The first was, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” The second, and more important one was, “But who do you say that I am?” It ultimately does not matter what others say about Jesus. Their claims may be baseless or biased, who knows? What matters infinitely here and now, and will matter eternally when life ends is what you say about Him for yourself. Each and every human being must consider Christ for himself or herself. In demanding to hear the evidence of the case presented before him, Pilate was off to a good start of doing just that. But he began to stumble when he said, “Take Him yourselves, and judge Him according to your law.” He was trying to avoid making a verdict for himself, and when it comes to Jesus, that is a position that is never afforded anyone.

That brings us to the second factor as we answer the question, “What shall we do with Jesus?”

II. We must be seekers of truth. (vv33-37)

Did you ever watch the television show “Columbo”? If you did, you recall that Lieutenant Columbo was a seemingly inept detective who always got his man in the end. The way he did it was by always asking a lot of questions. Eventually, he’d wind around to the right questions and get the answers he was seeking. In academics, a question-and-answer methodology is often referred to as the Socratic method, named for the philosopher Socrates. In Socrates’ day, the sophists were philosophers who used persuasive rhetoric to entertain or impress their hearers into uncritically accepting their views. But Socrates would engage his hearers in a dialogue based on questions and answers. Asking the right questions can be a great means of discovering truth, if we bring those questions to the right source.

Pilate seemed to know that. Unimpressed with the rhetoric of the Jewish authorities, Pilate brought Jesus inside the Praetorium and began to ask Him several very important questions. In verse 33, he asks, “Are You the King of the Jews?” In verse 35, “What have You done?” These are the most important questions that can be asked about Jesus: Who is He? What did He do? But Pilate did not take a popular opinion poll on these matters. He did what we all must do. He brought the questions to Jesus to let Him answer them for Himself.

You will notice in verse 34 that, before answering Pilate, Jesus gets at the motivation for the questions: “Are you saying this on your own initiative, or did others tell you about Me?” The difference is significant. Jesus never turned away from anyone who was genuinely seeking truth for themselves. But Jesus also never wasted time or words in engaging in an endless debate with people who were disinterested in truth, or who merely wanted to trap Him with His own words. If Pilate is personally enquiring, then “perhaps Jesus can lead him to better or deeper understanding.”[1] But, if Pilate is merely parroting what others have said, then Jesus knows that the deck is stacked against Him already. It is not that Jesus does not already know the contents of all of our hearts, but in asking the question, He is forcing Pilate, and all of us, to examine the motive of our inquiry.

Here Pilate tries to bob and weave and maintain his slippery posture on the fence. He says in verse 35, “I am not a Jew am I? Your own nation and the chief priests delivered You to me.” Essentially, Pilate is saying, “Why should I care? I don’t have a dog in this fight.” But this position is impossible to maintain if we are seeking truth. Truth is not something that can be studied with disinterest. Truth calls for an active response. Pilate cannot get off the hook so easily, nor can anyone else. To continue the metaphor, everyone has a dog in this fight!

When Pilate asks his second question, “What have you done?”, Jesus begins to answer both of his questions. He says, “My kingdom is not of this world.” There it is. If He has a kingdom, then He is a king. He never denies it. When Pilate asks again, “So You are a king?”, Jesus says, “You say correctly that I am a king.” But Jesus is clear to explain what His kingship means. He has not come to overthrow Rome or liberate Judea from its tyranny. That would be too small a thing for a King whose kingdom is not of this world. He says, “If My kingdom were of this world, then My servants would be fighting so that I would not be handed over to the Jews.” One of them had tried to take up the sword, but Jesus rebuked him and supernaturally healed the one whom he struck. Kings of this world preserve their power by force. Jesus has no need to do that. His kingdom is not of this world. It is neither established nor defended by force. His jurisdiction is universal, His authority is anchored in heaven, and His mission is not to liberate one corrupt nation from another. It is to liberate the entire human race from the tyranny of Satan and enslavement to sin.

How does this King accomplish this? He says, “For this I have been born, and for this I have come into the world, to testify to the truth.” His Kingdom is established, advanced, and defended by the power of His word. Those who hear His word and believe become citizens of His kingdom, and are delivered from the powers of evil at work in this world. John will say in his First Epistle (5:4) that those who are born of God by faith overcome this world by the victory of Christ. Thus, Jesus says, “Everyone who is of the truth hears My voice.”

Understand the weightiness of this radical claim. Jesus is here saying that He was born to be a King, but not of this world; a King of a wholly other realm that knows no borders or boundaries. And this King claims that He has come into the world to reveal the truth of God. He claims to be the complete revelation of who God is, and that apart from Him, there is no truth to be known about God. In John 14:6, He said that He is the truth. These radical claims knock everyone off the fence. As C. S. Lewis famously said, the one thing we must never say about Jesus is that He was merely a great moral teacher. Lewis said,

A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic … or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit and Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us.[2]

And this brings us to the final issue as we answer the question, “What shall we do with Jesus?”

III. We must follow truth wherever it leads us. (v38)

In that climactic courtroom scene in the movie “A Few Good Men,” when Tom Cruise exclaims to Jack Nicholson on the stand, “I want the truth!”, Nicholson boldly retorts, “You can’t handle the truth!” But this isn’t the movies, this is real life in the real world. If you are going to seek truth, and you must, then you have to ask yourself if you can handle the truth and where it leads you.

Truth will lead us to an inevitable decision. Once truth is discovered, we have to decide to receive it or reject it. We can no longer remain indifferent. And nowhere is this more vital than in the case of what we shall do with Jesus. Pilate has asked gone directly to the right source, and he has asked the right questions, and received the right answers. But still he tries to sit the fence. He says abruptly, “What is truth?”, and leaves the room. Carson says that his question comes “either because he is convinced there is no answer, or … because he does not want to hear it.”[3] And in this way, we see in Pilate an almost prophetic image of our contemporary culture. The worldview of postmodernism that has dominated our society for the last half-century is built upon the presupposition that all truth is relative, and that there is no such thing as an absolute truth – truth with a capital “T” that is true for all men at all times and places. People will say, “That may be true for you, but it is not for me.” With truth being relative, every person can decide for himself or herself what is right and what is wrong, and if you choose to judge my standards by your own, then I can label you with that most heinous placard: “You are INTOLERANT!” It is utterly impossible to build our lives on this kind of shifting foundation. Do you understand that even the claim that “there is no absolute truth,” is itself an absolute truth claim? The claim that there are no standards of morality is itself a standard of morality, and the person who tries to thrust that standard upon another is no different from one who says that, say, the Ten Commandments are the standard of morality. It is impossible to deny for long in the real world that there are standards and absolutes. Truth with a capital “T” is unavoidable and impossible to ignore.

But perhaps, as Carson suggests, Pilate’s question actually reveals that he is unwilling to hear the truth. The fact is that we all have an innate knowledge of truth and right and wrong. If you don’t believe that, consider how you would respond if someone were to steal something that belongs to you. You would say, “That’s not right!” The thief may say, “Sure it is. I can do anything I want.” And you may say, “That’s not true.” And the thief could merely say, “It may not be true for you, but it is for me.” And you might then say, “That’s not fair!” And immediately you find yourself caught in a trap of trying to simultaneously affirm and deny the very same standards. Could it be that we have spent much of our lives trying to avoid the responsibility that the truth of God brings to bear upon our souls? The Apostle Paul, in Romans 1, speaks of people who know the truth but who suppress the truth in unrighteousness. When the truth speaks harsh words to us about our sin or our unbelief, we have a decision to make: reject our sin and unbelief, or reject the plain truth. Like Pilate, you can try to dismiss this notion of truth, but soon you will be hung on your own noose. Dismissing truth does not make it go away, nor does it exempt us from our accountability to it. If we are committed to seeking truth, we must follow it all the way to the inevitable decision to accept it, surrender to it, and conform our lives to it; or else continue to live in rebellion to it. And if the truth is found in Jesus Christ, then life, death, heaven and hell are at stake in the decision. To not decide is to decide, and the decision may well be eternally disastrous.

This, therefore, means that the pursuit of truth will not only lead us to an inevitable decision, but it may well lead us to an unpopular position. Pilate had all the information to make the right decision, and he almost did. He went out on his portico and announced his verdict: “I find no guilt in Him.” But because Pilate’s power and prestige rested upon maintaining order in the land, when the people began to cry out against his decree, he waffled and gave in to the demands of the horde surrounding him. He had followed the right course, asked the right questions, and arrived at the right conclusions. But then he cowered under pressure and sent the Son of God to the Cross.

Friends, you should beware, if you decide to cast your lot with Jesus, it may prove unpopular with those surrounding you. But, you must never fear truth. Romans 10:11 says, “Whoever believes in Him will not be disappointed.” You might be unpopular, things might get uncomfortable, but ultimately and eternally, you will find satisfaction nowhere else than in the truth of God embodied in the Person of Jesus Christ. You should know how Pilate’s story ends. He waffled to safe his own skin at the expense of the life of Jesus Christ. But within a short time, his determination for self-preservation led him to order a bloody massacre of a multitude of Samaritans, resulting in him being removed from his post and recalled to Rome. It was not long after that the shamefully took his own life. His efforts to preserve his power, his prestige, and his image destroyed him. His earthly kingdom was threatened by the eternal Kingdom of Jesus, and in seeking to save it, he lost it. The same will be true for us. If we ignore truth as a measure to secure our own sovereignty over our lives, our kingdom will come toppling down around us at some point. Jesus said if we seek to save our lives we will lose them, but if we are willing to lose our lives for His sake, we will find life abundant and eternal in Him, because He is the truth. And so the question for us all is not what others think about Jesus, but what shall we ourselves do with Jesus? We must decide for ourselves. We must seek truth. And we must be committed to following that truth to the inevitable decisions and unpopular positions to which it may lead us. So what will you do with Jesus Christ?

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[1] D. A. Carson, The Gospel According to John (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991), 593.

[2] C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: HarperCollins, 2000), 52.

[3] Carson, 595.