Damned Jews!

Damn their insulting customs! The governor was in no mood for tolerance at this ungodly hour. Why can't this accursed race begin their day in the morning--which common sense dictates--instead of sunset? Why do they go debauching about throughout the night as though it were the light of day? Damn them! Damn them to hell! He barely glanced at Jesus and as though his fate were utterly irrelevant to him. "What charge!? Ignorant fools! What mindless charge do you bring against this man?" demanded the very irritated voice of official Rome.

In Judea, Pontius Pilate had assumed the office of Roman Procurator, or governor, after the deposition of Herod Archelaus. Serving this office for the past ten years, his authority exceeded that of any other Procurator in the empire. His judicial power was supreme, answering to no one but Caesar. He lived not in Jerusalem but in Caesarea where he occupied the palace of Herod. However, this was Passover, and he had come to the city with a force of soldiers 3,000 strong to help keep the peace.

"This man is a criminal," Asher and his colleagues replied. "Otherwise, we would not have brought him to you!"

"Yes. Quite," said the governor. "Why didn't I think of that?" Unconcealed contempt. "Then do not trouble me with your frivolities, take him yourselves and judge him by your own law. I have a real world with which to deal."

"You know we have no right to execute anyone," the Jews reminded him. This was a lie, of course. They did have that right, the form of execution was stoning. Romans crucified their capital criminals, or whipped them to death, or whatever torture suited their perverse nature. The Jewish leadership wanted their prisoner crucified. Jesus had spoken of this. He knew the kind of death he would endure. The Scripture would be fulfilled.

"Execute?" For the first time, the governor looked at Jesus. "You want to execute this pathetic creature?" Pilate looked incredulous. "What on earth for?" He stepped out to the portico overlooking the city. What a miserable place to serve Rome! He despised coming to this city. It was so . . . so . . . Jewish!

Pilate had known of Jesus. Who in all of Judea hadn't? He knew also of John the Baptist. He confused them one with the other. Wild, fanciful stories circulated about a Jewish prophet who was supposed to become their king. The stories had even reached the ears of Caesar. After a moment of pragmatic reflection Pilate said, "I will see this man alone."

He then went back inside, approached Jesus and spoke softly, "Are you the king of the Jews?" He was close enough to his face to smell his breath.

"Is that your idea," Jesus responded evenly, "or has someone told you about me?"

Annoyed, Pilate stepped away, and turning to face the casements, replied impatiently, "Look man, am I a Jew? Why would anyone possibly talk to me about you? Do you think I actually listen to the prattle of these foppish priests?" Jesus remained silent. "They are the ones who handed you over to me. Speak up! What is it that you have done?"

Jesus ignored this question. "My kingdom," he said enigmatically, "is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest. My kingdom is from another place."

"You are a king, then?" said Pilate, a condescending smile on his lips, as if Jesus had said something humorous.

Jesus answered with straightforward declaration, "I am King." The implication behind the words did not register with Pilate. Jesus paused, letting the words take whatever effect they would take. "I was born to be King and came into the world to declare the truth of it. Anyone who listens to truth," pausing again, "listens to me."

The audacity of Jesus both amused Pilate and unsettled him. "Truth?" asked Pilate with a laugh, "Truth you say! What the devil is truth?" Without waiting for Jesus to answer he strode out to where the Jews stood and said, "What are you vacuous fools doing? There is no basis for a charge against this man! He is a dreamer of ambitious dreams. Nothing more."

But Asher and his men were not fools. Evil, perhaps, but not fools. They well knew what they were doing, and they well knew how to exploit Pilate. The Procurator lent himself to such manipulation owing to his penchant for expediency. The issue for him was one of personal interest and convenience. He cared not for Jesus or the Jews, but he did care about how they might impact his interests. Knowing this, the Jews said simply, "He stirs up people all over Judea. He spreads his abominable teaching throughout the entire region. He is disruptive to the community. He started in Galilee and has come all the way here." Pilate cared little for what disturbed the Jews. And he wondered as for Rome, what could one deluded vagabond, street preaching fanatic do?

"Galilee, did you say? Is this man a Galilean?"

"Well, yes," replied a spokesman, "he began his sedition there."

"Then take him to Herod! He is in the city for this . . . this, silly feast of yours. Let Herod decide what to do with this tedious affair."