By Johann Peter Lange
Edited by Rev. Marcus Dods
THE HISTORICAL DELINEATION OF THE LIFE OF JESUS.
THE TREASON OF THE PEOPLE OF ISRAEL AGAINST THE MESSIAH. THE DECISION OF THE SANHEDRIM. THE PASCHAL LAMB AND THE LORD'S SUPPER. THE PARTING WORDS. THE PASSION, DEATH, AND BURIAL OF JESUS. THE RECONCILING OF THE WORLD.
SECTION VII
Jesus before the secular
tribunal. [the threefold charge:
that he is a stirrer up of the
people-a blasphemer of god-an
enemy of Cæsar. the three
trials: before Pilate-before
Herod-and again before Pilate.
the three warning tokens: the
irritation of the Sanhedrim-the
dream of Pilate's wife-the
assertion that Jesus was the son
of god. the three acquittals.
the three attempts at
deliverance: Barabbas-the
scourging-the final resistance
of Pilate. the three rejections
of Jesus by the Jewish people.
the three condemnations: the
delivery of Jesus to the will of
the people-the scourging-the
delivery to death. the second
and third mockery of Christ. the
handwashing of the heathen. the
Jews’ imprecation upon
themselves.] the condemnation to
death
(Mat 27:11-31. Mar 15:1-20.
Luk 23:1-25. Joh 18:28-40;
Joh 19:1-16)
The high council had hardly been
able to wait for the break of
day to pronounce the last formal
sentence of death against Jesus
(Mar 15:1); they had then put
Him in chains anew as a sign of
His condemnation (for during the
trial He had probably been
released from the bonds), and
with the pomp of a great
procession of accusers He was
led to the common hall or
prætorium1 of Pilate. But before
the palace the procession
halted. Its members could not
enter the house of the heathen,
for fear of polluting
themselves. This was the
requisition of the Passover.
Whoever polluted himself was
forbidden to eat the Passover.
The eating of the Passover thus
as a rite lasted through the
whole feast-day.2 Here again,
also, there is manifest to us a
wide contrast between actual
righteousness and the
righteousness of the scribes and
Pharisees. While they are making
a sin-offering of their Messiah,
and surrendering Him to death,
they will keep holy the external
Passover-feast with the most
exact zeal.
Pilate yielded to the popular
custom by coming out of the
palace to them. But probably the
disturbance at so early an hour,
as well as the ostentatious form
of the procession which awaited
him before his door, annoyed
him. He was all the more
disposed to get rid of the
affair quickly, asking without
further delay after the
substantial matter, ‘What
accusation bring ye against this
man?’
This question presupposes that
he has first of all to inquire,
and consequently to determine in
the character of a judge upon
the guilt or innocence of the
accused, whether He is innocent
or not. Thus he placed the
members of the high council, who
had assumed the dignity of
judges, in the position of
complainants. These, on the
other hand, proceeded upon a
totally different assumption.
They thought that Pilate was
antecedently to acknowledge
their judicial dignity, as well
as their sentence of death, and
only formally to confirm the
latter. In this sense they said,
as if insulted, ‘If He were not
a malefactor, we would not have
delivered Him up unto thee.’
They thus implied that they
attributed to the Roman State no
right to revise their
hierarchical capital
sentence—that they wanted to
make him the executioner of
their fanaticism, while they
took the credit to themselves of
acknowledging the supremacy of
his tribunal. But Pilate felt
himself offended in his pride of
office by the arrogant speech of
the priests; he ironically
replied, ‘Then take ye Him, and
judge Him according to your
law!’ They were thus made to
feel that they could only award
death to the accused, by
substantiating the proceeding
against Him before the Roman
forum, which should condemn Him
in the legal form; but if they
wished their priestly law to
decide against Jesus, they must
needs be satisfied with
inflicting the priestly
punishment upon Him—the
punishment of excommunication.
The answer of Pilate was thus,
in a juridical sense, perfectly
appropriate. It compelled the
Jews to speak out plainly what
they wanted; and they did so in
the words, ‘It is not lawful for
us to put any man to death.’ The
Evangelist adds, ‘that the
saying of Jesus might be
fulfilled, which He spake,
signifying what death He should
die.’ Had the Jews dared to put
Him to death as a presumed
blasphemer, according to their
law, they would have stoned Him
(as subsequently they actually
put Stephen to death in riotous
violation of the existing
ordinance). But in surrendering
Him to the Romans for death,
they obtained for Him the kind
of death with which the Romans
were accustomed to punish the
greatest crimes—the punishment
of the cross.3 This was exactly
what Christ had foreseen and
foretold; and as He had thus
defined the manner of His death,
the word must be fulfilled.
But it was consistent with the
most special decrees of the
foresight of God, that Christ
must die on the cross. The sign
of the deepest curse of the
world, the cross, was to be
changed into the sign of the
highest salvation by His
death—the salvation of the
world. The pain, the disgrace,
the slowness, the consciousness,
the publicity of this kind of
death, made it in the highest
sense the peculiar death it was.
The death on the cross was the
prince of deaths, and no sign
could be so lively as that of
the cross. The tree of
excommunication, or the cursed
branch of the Israelites,—the
sign of abhorrence and contempt
for the Romans, the notorious
stake of ignominy,—this sign
could be actually, as the crown
of all curse and as the symbol
of all judgment, converted,
through the grace of God, into
the extreme opposite: might be
changed from the cursed tree
into the tree of life; from the
disgraceful beam of the
outstretched arms of
malefactors, into the uplifted
standard of the outspread arms
of the Deliverer; from the cross
into the star of salvation. And
thus this instrument of death
stands in its significance
before the spirit of the
Christian Church, and Christ
Himself has in many ways
referred to the significance of
this mode of death.
The last word of the Jews
comprised the decided assurance
that Christ had committed a
crime for which the punishment
of death was due to Him. They
now complied (as appears from
what follows) with the demand of
Pilate, and declared the charge
on which the Roman had to found
his proceeding. They asserted
that Jesus made Himself King of
the Jews. Nay, they ventured
moreover to declare that He
forbade the payment of duties to
Cæsar, although they had known
the exact opposite. We have seen
how, with perfidious
consciousness, they could
distort His statement, that He
was the Messiah, into a
statement of this kind. So now,
as on their side they reconciled
themselves to the claim of
Pilate, he on his part was also
constrained to go into their
complaint. It addressed itself
to the charges of conspiracy,
sedition, and high treason.
Pilate now set about the
judicial examination of Jesus.4
He withdrew into the interior of
the prætorium, and had Jesus
summoned thither. We observe in
the sequel, that the Roman judge
alternately occupies a threefold
position. When he speaks with
the Jews about the proceedings,
he is standing without on the
square in front of the palace
among them. When he undertakes
the judicial hearing, he
withdraws with the accused and
with the witnesses, who take
part in the proceeding, into the
judgment hall, carefully, no
doubt, attended by some
representatives of the
complainants.5 But when he
declares the judicial sentence,
he mounts the judgment-seat,
which is erected on a
consecrated foundation on the
elevated stone platform.6 Thus
is plainly evident the
powerlessness of the weak
wretched judge, who wants to
accomplish, and cannot
accomplish, the judgment upon
the actual Judge of the world,
against the great judgment of
the world,—that he goes
backwards and forwards into
three positions, ever returning
again to the trial, ever again
mounting the judgment-seat
(Mat 27:19; comp. Joh 18:13) to
pass the judicial sentence.
He began his trial with the
question to Jesus, ‘Art Thou the
King of the Jews?’ Jesus
recognized at once the difficult
and perilous double sense of
this question, which the Roman
judge did not perceive; and it
was likewise plain to Him how
the malice of His adversaries
intended in this matter to
deceive Pilate. He could not
possibly therefore answer
directly to this question. If
without more words He said, Yes,
He acquiesced in the meaning in
which the Roman asked Him—He
acquiesced in the charge of
sedition which was brought
against Him. If He said
unconditionally, No, then,
according to the deepest
consciousness of His accusers,
He disowned the hope of Israel,
His Messianic dignity, the whole
importance of His personality.
Hence the counter-question to
the judge, which was to elicit
the meaning of the question,
‘Sayest thou this thing of
thyself, or did others tell it
thee of Me?’ In other words, Is
the expression of the charge thy
expression in thine own meaning,
or the expression of My
accusers? Thus is implied that
in the latter case the
expression is a captious and
entangling one. Pilate likewise
begins now to notice, that in
the mouth of the Jews the word
has a different meaning from
what it has in his own.
He feels the weight of the
distinction of Jesus, and on his
side makes it prominent with
Roman pride. ‘Am I a Jew? Thine
own nation and the chief priests
have delivered Thee unto me.
What hast Thou done?’ The dim
consciousness that he may have
been duped by the complainants
by an enigmatical expression in
respect of the accused, appears
to put him out of humour.
Peevishly he repels the notion
of his having himself so
formulated the expression of the
complaint, or of his being
willing to receive it in the
Jewish sense. This distinction
places him, in respect of
honesty, far above his rivals.
Their Jewish pride has not
withheld them from perfidiously
confounding in their complaint
the Roman and the Jewish view
with one another. Pilate, on the
other hand, in his Roman pride,
will have them sharply
distinguished. There is a
theocratic and world-historical
significance in the saying of
the heathen,—of the
representative of the heathen
world to the Messiah, Thy people
and the high priests have
delivered Thee to me. But now,
that no fallacy of
misunderstanding may slip in,
Pilate asks directly, in the
spirit of the Roman world, ‘What
hast Thou done?’ (What is Thy actual
crime?) To this Jesus could not
immediately answer that He had
done nothing, without giving to
the matter an entirely wrong
turn. The Roman is to know that
Jesus is not only innocent in
the sense of Roman justice, but
also that He is a King in the
sense of the Israelitish
religion. He must know that
there is a totally different
world from the world of Roman
doing, namely, the kingdom of
truth, and that Jesus is King in
this kingdom. Finally, he must
know that the accused has fallen
into his hands, not in
consequence of complications of
private justice, but in
consequence of a decisive war;
namely, in a dispute of two
kingdoms,—of the kingdom of God
and the kingdom of this
world,—in which He indeed
externally is subdued, but in
order that He may spiritually
conquer. In this sense Jesus
answers him, ‘My kingdom is not
of this world. If My kingdom
were of this world, then would
My servants fight, that I should
not be delivered to the Jews.’
In that case, He says, the power
of His kingdom would probably
know how against the weak Jews
to maintain Him, whereas the
proud worldly might of the
Romans could not maintain Him.
‘But now,’ He adds, ‘is My
kingdom not from hence.’
In these words we find the
world-historical encounters
between the Spirit of Christ and
the genius of the Roman world,
just as, in the same significant
opposition, a short time before,
the first meeting of Christ with
the Grecian world-spirit
occurred in the limits of the
temple.7
The words, Sayest thou this
thing of thyself, or did others
tell it thee of Me? were in this
more general symbolical meaning
highly characteristic. It was
the spiritual weakness of the
Roman, with all his energy, that
in religion, as well as in
philosophy and poetry, he was in
many ways not original, but
appropriated to himself alien
and foreign modes of thought and
expression.8 Thus as, on the one
side, he often consented to
obscure his own special point of
view, so, on the other, in the
pride of his limited energy, he
was deficient in that he would
recognize no real world except
the world of action, wherein he
reigned with such power. Thus
Pilate must learn from the mouth
of Jesus that there is another
kingdom besides the kingdom of
this world, and that this
kingdom is more mighty than the
kingdom of the world in all its
earthly fulness of power, even
although it should be granted
that its king is treated as an
evildoer; yea, that this kingdom
triumphs in the way of
suffering, and must, as the
kingdom of a new world, take the
place of the old kingdom of this
world. This perception was
wanting to the Roman
spirit,—that the highest power
of the greatest kingdom proceeds
from the deepest suffering, just
as the perception was wanting to
the Grecian spirit, that the
purest glory of beauty must
proceed from the spirit of
self-renunciation, from the
grave, from death, and apparent
annihilation. And how hard it is
even now for those two great
world-spirits to grasp these
truths!
The mysterious word of Jesus
arrested Pilate’s attention.
‘Art Thou a King then?’9 he
asked; Jesus answered, ‘Thou sayest it! Yea, a King I am.’
The Synoptists have made this
chief assertion prominent, that
He is the King of the Jews, as
the acknowledgment of
Christ,—namely, in the deeper
meaning of the
scripture,—neglecting the
qualification of them.
Pilate, the proud representative
of the Roman Cæsar, could not
but appreciate this moment, in
which Christ enunciated His
perfect kingly consciousness
before him; and there was a deep
but brief pause!
Then Christ, explaining and
meeting the mistrust of the
Roman, which would be likely to
show itself, adds the words: ‘To
this end was I born, and for
this cause came I into the
world, that I should bear
witness unto the truth!’ Every
king is, according to His idea,
a born and called witness—that
is to say, the first
world-historical witness and
maintainer—of the idea of his
kingdom. Thus Christ is the
witness and maintainer of the
truth, which is the highest
kingdom; and therefore Christ is
the King of the highest kingdom.
But He is this King thoroughly,
entirely,—altogether born for
it, and altogether chosen or
sent for that purpose. Thus He
was a King in the complete power
of right of birth and right of
choice.
When Christ had thus declared
Himself to Pilate as the prince
in the kingdom of truth, He adds
a word which is addressed to
Pilate’s conscience: ‘Every one
that is of the truth heareth My
voice!’ Whoever is accustomed to
surrender himself to the
attraction of eternal truth,
must perceive the spiritual and
real royal power and authority
of this attraction in the word
of Christ. The citizens of the
kingdom of truth feel the power
of their King when they perceive
His voice and adore Him.
This was a moment when a spirit
that felt its need of truth
would have hearkened and
questioned; Pilate, on the
contrary, appeared to begin to
find the debate troublesome.
With the often-quoted
expression, ‘What is truth?’ he
hastened forth out of the hall,
to give to the Jews without, the
statement ‘I find no fault in
Him!’ That contemptuous
expression has rightly been
considered as a proof of his
want of the higher perception of
truth. If he had sought for
truth, he would not have thrown
forth the question in
displeasure, without caring for
the answer; but have impressed
it as a true question, yea, as a
prayer for the truth, and he
would have waited for the
answer. It cannot be said,
moreover, that he threw out the
question as an actual sceptic,
who had gone through the systems
of philosophy, and had ended by
coming to despair of the
knowledge of the truth. In this
case he would have at least been
still anxious to know about the
system of Jesus. Doubtless he
was infected, in his frivolous
worldliness, with the sceptical
atmosphere of his time; but the
soul of his word was plainly the
arrogant indifferentism which by
anticipation chooses to find all
the higher questions of the
spiritual life wearisome.10 But
if he is to refer the expression
of Christ, that He is the King
in the kingdom of truth, in its
practical meaning, to the
accusation in question,11 he
might probably think that the
kingdom of truth is an airy and
contemptible fairy-land. Thus,
whoever wishes to be king there
in a harmless world of devout phantasy, cannot hurt the Roman
eagles. But if we regard the two
last sayings of Pilate in the
relation of theory and practice
to one another, we see at first
that he himself contradicted his
doctrine by his deed; for in the
words, I find no fault in Him!
he declared a great truth. But
we soon see likewise, that such
a judicial mode of treatment as
depends upon the unsound
foundation of despair of the
truth will not abide the proof.
The Evangelist Luke tells us in
this place (Luk 23:5 et seq.),
that the Jews fiercely resented
the declaration of Pilate, that
Jesus is without fault, that He
is no seditious person; and that
they asserted, on the contrary,
that He in any case stirs up the
people by going round through
the whole of Judæa teaching. But
when they could not help seeing
that Pilate was also convinced
of the innocence of Jesus, on
the ground that in the range of
his administration Pilate had
never known anything of Him
contrary to the law, they
declared with emphasis that
Jesus had at first begun His
ministry in Galilee, and
proceeding first from thence on
His expedition, had finally come
also to Jerusalem. Doubtless
they wished to suggest the
thought to the judge, that Jesus
had not yet been long enough in
Judæa for Him to be charged with
much in the way of sedition
(except His festal entry, to
which they might refer); that in
Galilee, on the other hand, he
had excited the people for a
much longer time; and many
histories of Him were known
there. But Pilate did not allow
himself to be thus ensnared. As
the proceeding had for some time
begun to be uncomfortable to
him, he eagerly caught at the
intimation that Jesus had at
first appeared in Galilee,—he
asked whether He was a Galilean;
and at once availed himself of
the information, that Jesus was
by birth a subject of Herod
Antipas, to direct Him to that
prince, who was keeping the
Passover in Judæa.12
The Galilean prince was
conceited and frivolous enough
to notice nothing of the
necessity and difficulty which
this prisoner caused to his
judges. He rejoiced exceedingly
when Jesus was referred to him
in this manner. He rejoiced,
because he had long wished to
see Him, without having his wish
satisfied. The origin of this
wish was his having heard so
much of His miracles, which he
regarded probably altogether as
specimens of a supernatural
magical power, and because he
would fain have seen the like
performed by Him. Thus he had
now no other wish than that He
would only thus perform a
miracle, as Herod conceived it.
With this view, he appears to
have asked Him question after
question with many words.
Perhaps He might prophesy to
him; perhaps give intelligence
about John the Baptist: we know
not. But it is plain from the
connection, that Herod was very
far from thinking of taking
proceeding against Him with
judicial dignity; still less,
however, of regarding Him as a
prophet of God. Jesus might
amuse or interest him, as a
mighty magician, or perhaps
might announce good fortune to
his egoistic superstition.
Anything else he sought not from
Him. It is a terrible sign to
see how this prince had
caricatured to himself his
representation of this first
among his subjects, although
Jesus had excited his whole
territory by His Spirit. And
thus indifferently he would
regard Him, notwithstanding that
the Baptist had lived in his neighbourhood, and had made some
impression upon him by the
spirit of the prophets. It was,
however, wholly characteristic
of the Spirit of Jesus, that He
answered no word to all the
questions suggested by the
fawning excitement and folly of
the frivolous man.13 Not only was
not Herod His judge, but he did
not conduct himself as His
Judge.
It has been observed with
reason, that in this painful
position Jesus expiated the sins
of all those who profane their
talents for the sinful
entertainment of the great.14 But He just as much expiated
the excessive vanities which
thus in a thousand ways obscure
the courtly life, especially the
sins of the Herodians.15 But
whilst He thus by His silence
held the mirror up to His former
ruler, in which he might
recognize his own unworthiness,
the priests and scribes stood by
and accused Him severely. But
notwithstanding that Herod felt
himself greatly annoyed by the
silence of Jesus, he did not
venture to condemn Him to
death.16 He must have known too
well, that there had been
nothing to charge against Jesus
in Galilee which deserved
punishment; moreover, he had
probably heard that Pilate had
found no guilt in Him. Besides,
the remembrance of the execution
of the Baptist might still make
him somewhat fearful in the
matter of the murder of the
prophets. But, on the other
hand, he ventured just as little
to set Jesus at liberty. He was
probably prevented from this,
not only by ill temper and
annoyance with Him, but also by
consideration of the feeling of
the people; but especially by
the wish to return the
compliment of the Roman noble,
which consisted in transferring
the prisoner to him, by sending
Him back before his court. But
he could not dismiss the Lord
without insult: as he formerly
had yielded the life of the
Baptist as a prize to his
courtiers and officers, so he
did now with the dignity of
Jesus. He and his company began
to treat the Lord
contemptuously, to make a mock
of Him, and finished by sending
Him back to the Roman in a
brilliant white robe: that was
the second mockery of Jesus.
By the white robe, the vain
prince gave to Pilate something
to think of. This robe might
indicate the innocence of Jesus;
but it might also characterize
Him as a visionary, who wished
to be regarded as a victorious
King: it might finally designate
Him as the claimant—the
candidate, in the Roman
meaning—who wished to obtain for
Himself, among the Romans, a
King’s crown, as the King of the
Jews.17 The last meaning was
probably the thought of Herod—a
thought in which, so to speak,
the dream of his own soul
betrayed itself; for his soul
was already far on the road to
Rome, to ask for himself there,
in the character of a claimant,
the royal crown.
Pilate had sent Jesus to Herod
specially for two reasons. The
one was, that he wished to rid
himself of the proceedings. This
intention was frustrated by the
politeness and foolish frivolity
of Herod. All the more plainly
Pilate saw the other
accomplished. He had wished to
conciliate the tetrarch, with
whom till then he had lived in
disagreement.18 There is a
fearful emphasis in the
expression of Luke: The same
day, Pilate and Herod were made
friends together.19 It was the
day of the union of all evil
men, of all wicked men, of all
sinners against the Lord.
In the evil pleasantry wherewith
Herod had ended his hearing,
Pilate could, indeed, find no
decisive judgment. But he
probably found a sign therein
that he held the accused to be a
dangerous man, even as a
fanatic; and this confirmed him
in his own judgment. To complete
this in a formal manner, he now
ascended the judicial throne.
Here he had the accusers of
Jesus formally cited
(Luk 23:13), the high priests,
the elders, and the people;
although probably the greater
part of them had formed a
tumultuous convoy to Jesus,
first on His way to Herod, then
back again to Pilate, and thus
were already on the spot. Pilate
waited till the tumult subsided
(Mat 27:17), till he saw the
parties of the accused and
accuser again opposed before
him. This would take some time,
for the members of the Sanhedrim
had mingled themselves among the
crowds of people in order to
stir them up, and to instruct
them in case the judge should
declare that Jesus should be set
free, as they saw to be likely.
Pilate, in the meanwhile, had
time to reflect upon the
relations of the proceedings. He
might for a still longer time
have had some intelligence of
Jesus, and have known that He
had not concerned Himself with
political but with religious
matters. On the requisition of
the high priests, he had placed
at their disposal a large body
of men to take Jesus prisoner;
and it is natural that the
officers who were with this
company must have soon been
convinced in Gethsemane that the
summoning of this armed force in
this case was something more
than a needless pomp—that it
argued a personal enmity of the
high council against the
wonderful man whom even they
learnt to fear. And if in this
feeling they perhaps made their
report to the procurator, the
way was sufficiently prepared
for him to conclude from the
whole passionate conduct of the
opponents of Jesus, that they
had delivered Him out of envy,
that Jesus must have in some way
enraged them by the exercise of
great spiritual powers. In this
thought there was for him the
first great warning against the
condemnation of Jesus. Thus he
awaited the appearance of the
accusers, when a special
circumstance strengthened him in
his purpose to set Jesus at
liberty-a message from his wife.
She sent to say to him, ‘Have
thou nothing to do with that
just man, for I have suffered
many things this day in a dream
because of Him.’
According to the tradition,
Pilate’s wife was called Claudia
Procla, and belonged to the
class of devout heathen women
who, at the time of Jesus, had
become, as proselytes of the
gate, friendly to the religious
faith of the Jews, and to their
religious worship in the
synagogue.20 The dream of
Pilate’s wife can offer no
difficulty to the unprejudiced
mind. The supernatural and the
merely humanly natural are here
entirely at one. If Pilate’s
wife were a devout woman of
noble mind, she must probably
have given to the intelligence
about Jesus a totally different
kind of attention from that of
her husband. But now the
messages of the high priest had
come late on the previous
evening to the house of the
procurator, and had asked for
the troops to be sent against
Jesus. Probably the Roman lady
did not go to sleep till late,
on account of her excited
thoughts about this marvellous
history. An uneasy morning
dream, in which Jesus as an
exalted mysterious personality,
as the Righteous One, formed the
centre, in which her husband was
involved in the guilt of others
against this righteous man, or
might become involved in that
guilt, awakened or frightened
her up. She now learned that
Pilate was officially busy
already with the proceeding
against the Galilean. The near
tumult of the people told her
how full of importance the case
was considered by all; and
impelled by pious fear,
affectionate solicitude, and
anxious presentiment, she sent
the warning message to her
husband.21 It is a frequently
occurring phenomenon, that noble
and religious women walk, like
watching guardian angels, by the
side of husbands frivolous and
entangled in the world, and in
the most critical moments check
them with warnings. It is,
further, an entirely natural
phenomenon, based in the idea of
contrast in which extremes meet,
that just the men of cold,
calculating intellect, of
unbelief and worldliness, are
they who experience in
themselves the reaction of the
most mysterious signs of the
higher world of feeling, whose
existence they ignore; that,
finally, the voices of innocent
children, of foreboding
women,—that visions of the
night, and dreams, terribly cut
across the bold security of
their easy world of intelligence
or worldly sphere, confined and
limited as it is. But that the
dream may become the organ of
warning, divine voices a medium
of God’s Spirit, is plain from
the nature of the dream-life
itself, and the manifold facts
of general as well as theocratic
history testify thereto. And if
ever a night was sufficiently
important to suggest such dreams
to susceptible souls, it was
that night in which Jesus was
betrayed. The notorious critic,
indeed, who usually, in the theologic region, can know
nothing of the theologic
conception of a purpose,22
but has been able to ask in this
as in other cases, ever after
the purpose of religious visions
and voices, forgets himself in
this place so much as to seek
for the purpose of this warning
voice, after the purpose of a
significant woman’s dream.23
Thus prepared, Pilate from the
judicial throne delivered before
the assembled complainants his
sentence: ‘Ye have brought this
man unto me as one that
perverteth the people (as a
revolutionary demagogue); and,
behold, I having examined Him
before you, have found no reason
in this man for the accusations
which ye bring against Him. No,
nor yet Herod; for I sent you to
him, and lo (this is the result)
nothing worthy of death is done
unto Him. I will therefore (thus
runs the judgment itself) have
Him chastised and let Him go!’
The sentence of acquittal was
thus not simple and without
conditions. The punishment of
scourging was to satisfy the
hatred and the hostile feeling
of the Jews against Jesus. But
how could Pilate bring this
sentence into harmony with his
judgment, that Jesus was without
fault? He might have persuaded
himself that He had deserved
some little correction for His
fanatical influence upon the
people, by which He had already
caused him so much trouble.24 But
it is more probable that he
would have the scourging
undertaken in accordance with
the right which he had of
putting the accused to the
torture.25 It is true that the
punishment of torture was not
applied when the sentence of
acquittal was already
pronounced; but as it belonged
once to the right of the judge,
he might think that he could
reserve to himself the
supplementary execution of
it—all the more if he intended
the punishment to convince the
accusers still further of the
innocence of the accused. And
this purpose he actually
referred to the scourging,
according to John (Joh 19:4). At
the same time, he tried a second
means of making the acquittal
more acceptable to them: ‘Ye
have a custom,’ said he, ‘that I
should release unto you one at
the Passover: will ye therefore
that I release unto you the King
of the Jews?’ This question did
not mean, Will you altogether
approve that I should acquit
Jesus? but, Is it right in your
eyes that I should release Him
under that form? The Jews might
be induced to assent to that by
two motives—first, because in
this manner Jesus would be
publicly designated for one
moment as a real offender, a
malefactor subject to the
law—because He would be at least
set forth as a fanatic deserving
pity, and would be visibly
destroyed in the estimation of
the people if He were thus
dismissed with disgrace, which
must appear to their hatred
still more desirable than if He,
without any further concern,
went away acquitted; and, in the
second place, because in this
way Pilate gave an opportunity
for the exercise of a customary
right in the most obvious
manner,—a right of which we know
nothing accurately as to how it
originated—to whose exercise,
however, they attached a
considerable value.26 By this proposition Pilate
might still suggest some hope,
especially to the disposition of
the people—to the disposition of
the many worshippers of Jesus
among the people.
But he made a mistake when, in
this manner, he forsook the path
of righteousness to tread the
by-road of false political
craft. He did not perceive what
cunning powers were opposed to
him in this operation. The
people were already prepared for
his proposal—the masses already
knew their watchword; and hardly
had he uttered the proposition
that Jesus should now be
released as the poor sinner of
the Passover—favoured by the
people—than the crowd began to
cry out, ‘Not this man, but
Barabbas.’ Nay, according to
Mark, many of the people seem to
have broken forth before the
right moment with the word which
had been taught them by the high
priests, as they began to cry
out that he should, according to
the customary rights, release to
them one prisoner at the feast
(Mar 15:8).
The frightful comparison between
the person of Jesus and that of
Barrabas, did not thus proceed
from Pilate; it was the idea of
the high council, and was
carried out by the Jewish
people. This comparison was
extremely characteristic—a
bringing into comparison of
Christ with the dark counterpart
of His personality, pure as
light. That criminal was one
prominent above others. He was
in chains, because he had taken
part in bringing about an
insurrection in the city,
probably even had headed it, and
therein had committed a murder
(John and Luke). This was
actually the form of criminal
that the enemies of Jesus would
have liked to make of His
person, in order to inflict
death on Him. Even the name of
the criminal in this connection
is remarkable also; Barabbas
means the Son of the Father.27
The Jewish people, in an
election, which has become the
world-historical type of all
popular elections misguided by
seducing demons and exaggerated
in themselves, asked for the
release of this black criminal,
and therewith rejected Jesus,
who had been compared in value
with him. In this act the form
of Christ had become changed for
the enemies of Jesus into the
form of Barabbas, the form of
Barabbas into the form of
Christ. Such had been the web
woven among them by the spirit
of lies. This was the first act
of the last formal rejection of
Christ—the first degree of the
world-historical expression of
the rejection of the Messiah
from the interests of the Jews
to the heathen.
But Pilate was not at once in
the mind to yield to the demand
of the Jews. Rather he continued
his purpose to abide by the
execution of his sentence.
Therefore he caused the Lord to
be led away to be scourged.
Those who were thus punished
were bound to a post, generally
chained in a bent position to a
low post, so that the naked
back, tightly stretched, was
exposed to the severe stripes.
The scourge consisted of sticks,
or else of leather thongs, to
which was given a special force
in weight and swing, by loading
the ends with lead or bone. The
execution lacerated the back of
the victim; it might result in
fainting, or even death. In this
manner Christ was scourged by
the Roman soldiers.28
That they could not have
performed their office with any
forbearance, is plain from the
wanton malice with which they
added mockery to the scourging.
Moreover, it was to Pilate’s
interest that Jesus should be
fearfully beaten; because he
hoped to spare His life by means
of the disfigurement in which he
would bring Him before the Jews.29
The moment had arrived in which
the Roman band of soldiers gave
way to the strong reaction of
their wild heathenish feeling,
against the deep awe with which
Christ had inspired them on the
previous night. It is in itself
a natural impulse of the rude
mind to seek to shake off
uncomfortable impressions of
slavish awe with a daring show
of bravado. Hence the diabolical
excitement into which the
soldiers were brought by the
circumstances of Christ’s
ill-treatment with Herod, and by
the tumult of the Jewish people.
It was an hour of the licence
and triumph of all the gross
tumultuary powers in humanity—of
their public revolt against the
Anointed of God; under the eyes,
with the permission, and the
approving laugh of civilized and
high authorities. The rude humour of the diabolical
excitement inflamed the
soldiery; they determined to
finish the game which the
soldiers of Herod had begun to
play.
But even the mockery was not yet
sufficient for the spirit of
outrage which had intoxicated
them; it carried them on beyond
this to the grossest
ill-treatment. They gave Him
blows with sticks; took the
staff of reed, and struck Him
with it on the head, and spat in
His face. If we suppose that the
reed might have fallen from His
hand, this circumstance might
perhaps have furnished a reason
for the soldiery passing on from
mockery to ill-treatment. They
wanted then to chastise Him with
the blows of the sticks; because
He had not held fast the reed,
they picked it up with
irritation, and struck Him on
the head with it, in order to
drive the crown of thorns more
deeply into His flesh, and
exhausted their rage by spitting
its foam into His face.
Thus was the Messiah rejected of
the Jews to the heathen, and
received by the general heathen
world; after the elected ones of
the heathen world had previously
saluted Him,—Magi from the east,
pious Grecians from the west.
Even this mockery and
ill-treatment Pilate appears to
have been not sorry to see. When
this cruel usage was finished,
he came before Jesus on the open
square, and said to the people,
‘Behold, I bring Him forth to
you, that ye may know that I
find no fault in Him.’ These
words only have a meaning on the
supposition that Pilate must
have considered the scourging of
Christ as torture—as a torture
by which nothing had been
elicited from Him which betrayed
His guilt. At the same time, he
might wish to make manifest, by
the appearance of Jesus in the
obtrusive mocking masquerade of
the kingly attributes, that He
jested at the political danger
which had been attributed to the
accused. When Pilate had thus
announced the appearance of
Jesus, the latter was actually
brought before the people, and
shown to them with the crown of
thorns upon His head, and
clothed with the purple mantle.
At His appearance, Pilate broke
forth into the expression,
‘Behold the man!’35 From the
brief and very pregnant form of
the words, it might perhaps be
concluded that a better feeling
had overcome his worldliness in
this expression: the latter
feeling would have probably been
uttered in a more declamatory
manner. The exclamation of the
judge has been with reason
regarded by the Church as an
involuntary prophecy of this
moment of suffering, extorted
from his feeling by the power of
Christ’s appearance. His first
conscious feeling is connected
with the most unconscious by a
series of links. Behold the man!
It is as if Pilate would
exclaim, There He is—the poor
man—a spectacle for compassion;
as if in this deepest misery the
Man first of all appeared to us
again in His full human form,
and awakened our entire human
feeling. The Roman knew not in
what measure He prophesied.
According to his conscious
purpose, however, he wished,
doubtless, by his words, to
preach sympathy and compassion
to the high priests and their
attendants, by the sensible
effect of Christ’s appearance.
But the heathen man of the world
preached humanity in vain to the
Jewish hierarchs. As soon as
they saw the man appear in the
crown of thorns, they became
deeply irritated, and cried,
‘Crucify, crucify Him!’ The
sorrowing Messiah is to the
Greeks foolishness—to the Jews
an offence: this moment proves
this. The heathenish mind, in
its disposition to worship
fortune, and to count misfortune
as sin, or even as a curse,
cannot at all perceive the power
in the idea of triumphant and
redeeming sorrow: therefore it
is laughable to it; and the
representation of this idea
seems to it to be involved in a
foolish fanaticism, which
deserves compassion. But the
Jewish mind is able to perceive
so much of the truth of that
idea, and of its confirmation in
Christ, that the momentary
appearance of it results in
offending and agitating it in
the strongest manner in its
ardent but darkened worldliness.
Therefore Jesus, in the present
pomp in which He appeared as the
jest of the heathen world, and
in Him the idea of a King of the
Jews, served for a mockery to
the heathen world—became to them
more odious than ever. It is
extremely characteristic, that
immediately a frightful paroxysm
of rage was developed in them at
this view of Jesus—a hurricane
which carried them altogether
into the position of the
heathens, without their being
conscious of it, seeing that
they now themselves dictated for
the Lord the heathen punishment
of the cross in the cry and
roar, ‘Crucify, crucify Him!’
This was the second degree of
rejection wherewith the Jews
delivered their Messiah to
Pilate.
Pilate appears to have felt in a
lively manner the inconsistency
of the position of the Jews on
the heathen standing, in
themselves determining the
punishment of the cross for
Jesus. He answered them
mockingly, ‘Take ye Him, and
crucify Him, for I find no fault
in Him.’ He mocked in these
words, indeed, not merely the
desire for the punishment of the
cross, which had taken
possession of them; but also the
insolence with which they wanted
to bluster him out of the
execution of this sentence. But
the assertion that he found no
fault in Jesus, they at once
contradicted. ‘We have a law,’
said they, ‘and by this law He
ought to die, because He made
Himself the Son of God.’
They thus for a while dropped
their political complaint,
because they saw that they did
not prevail with this, and went
back to their Jewish theocratic
accusation, charging Him with
blasphemy. Thus also they
returned mediately to their
first claim, that Pilate had
only to confirm and to execute
their sentence of death.
But as now in the wild medley of
passions and authorities they
had previously, by the political
charge and the Roman sentence of
punishment, hurried themselves
into the position of the worldly
judge, so the Roman also now
grasped at that to which he was
not competent, and adopted the
position of the theocratic
judge, in wishing to come to a
decision upon the last
charge,—that Jesus had, by the
statement that He was God’s Son,
blasphemed God, and for it had
deserved death,—and to decide it
by his own proper investigation.
Certainly it is chiefly probable
that fear induced him to this
attempt. For a long time, as
John intimates, Jesus had
inspired him with a slavish awe
or terror; but this terror
increased considerably after he
had heard the last words of the
Jews about Jesus. He remembered
now probably the account of the
soldiers of the occurrence in
Gethsemane, and his wife’s dream
gained for him a new
significance. The notion of gods
and sons of gods who appear
disguised upon earth, and might
be here denied or mistaken by
men, and thus leave to them the
curse—this was proper to the
heathen world-view; and the more
Pilate, in his unbelief, in the
moments of his common pleasure
might fancy that he was above
that notion, the more powerfully
it would come over him again in
the moments of the reaction of
his superstition to terrify him.
He thus wanted to come to some
clear idea of the personality of
Christ, which threatened to
become more and more uneasy to
him. He withdrew again into the
prætorium, and began the trial
again. ‘Whence art Thou?’ asked
he of Jesus. He asked Him, not
in the social meaning, but he
wanted to have some information
about His spiritual descent. But
on that subject Christ could
give no account to him in the
form of judicial treatment. He
was silent (Mat 27:12;
Mar 15:5). This silence
astonished Pilate. ‘Speakest
Thou not unto me?’ he asked Him;
‘knowest Thou not that I have
power to crucify Thee, and power
to release Thee?’ On this
answered Jesus to him: ‘Thou couldest have no power at all
against Me, except it were given
Thee from above: therefore he
that delivered Me unto thee hath
the greater sin.’ The two
passages separately are quite
plain, but their connection is
somewhat obscure. In the first
portion, Jesus maintains the
freedom of his position before
Pilate. He has yielded Himself
up, not to the might of Pilate,
but to the power of God, who has
given to Pilate power over Him.
Thus He characterizes the Roman
as the unconscious instrument of
the high providence to which He,
with consciousness and freedom,
resigns Himself. But then, in
the second portion of the
passage, He characterizes him as
the slavish, sinful instrument
of violent men, who are bringing
about His death. They, says
Christ, have the greater sin;
and thus is declared that Pilate
likewise is a sinner, in that he
is intending to become a
contemptible tool of the Jews.
But how does the second passage
flow from the first? This fact
that Jesus was given up to the
power of Pilate, has been
occasioned and brought about by
the great guilt of the Jews in
rejecting their Messiah. Thus
follows from this fact, that the
guilt of the Jews is greater
than that of Pilate. This
statement of Jesus appears to
have much struck Pilate. He felt
that in moral relations Jesus
stood before him as a judge;
that He looked through him,
treated him as a poor sinner,—so
accurately and yet so justly He
measured his guilt. And from
thenceforth, says John, in his
emphatic manner, Pilate sought
to release Him. He had indeed
hitherto taken much pains for
this purpose, but rather in a
playful manner. But now, for the
first time, he shows himself
decidedly as one who throws his
whole earnestness into it. He
demanded now of the Jews that
they should specify definite
facts, on account of which Jesus
was to be declared a malefactor.
Thus he declared that he would
not have regard to the last
suggested but not proved charge
of alleged blasphemy. But just
as little were the Jews inclined
to engage in the proof. Instead
of proof, they rather began to
cry out still more excitedly,
that Jesus must be crucified.
But in order to give emphasis to
their cry, they returned to
their first charge, that Jesus
was a seditious person, and
declared that they would assert
this charge before Cæsar himself
against the judgment of Pilate.
They threateningly cried out,
‘If thou let this man go, thou
art no friend to Cæsar:
whosoever maketh himself a king
speaketh against Cæsar.’ As the
imperial governors, as well as
the princes dependent upon Rome,
were named by the title of
honour, ‘Friend of Cæsar,’36 the
Jews gave it by this appeal to
be understood by Pilate, by a
mischievous ingenious ambiguity,
that there would be an end of
his governorship as soon as he
released Jesus; because they
would then accuse him to the
Cæsar as the friend of a
revolutionary Jewish pretender
to the crown. This trial was too
strong for the soul of Pilate.
For a long time he had had no
easy conscience concerning his
government of Judea hitherto,
and could not thus but fear to
drive the Jews to extremes, to
induce them to appear in Rome
with a complaint against him.37
He knew also that it was not
according to Roman policy, in
popular disturbances in the
provinces, to defend the right
at any price, especially the
right of individuals, but that
the State in such cases was
accustomed to make very
considerable concessions to the
turbulent feeling of the
people.38 But what most deterred
him from the purpose of
defending the life of the
accused, was the fear of the
anger of the Cæsar Tiberius,
who, with the distrust of a
despot, encouraged informations
in respect to politically
suspected persons, and to whom
it might very easily appear an
unpardonable crime if his
officials in the provinces were
to discourage such information.39
This fear turned the scale.
Hardly had Pilate aroused
himself strenuously to maintain
the right, than the temptation
which threatened him with the
fall from the height of his
worldly prosperity overcame him.
When he heard that saying, says
the Evangelist,—the threatening
of the Jews, he brought Jesus
forth, and sat down in the
judgment-seat, in a place that
is called the Pavement, ‘high
place;’ but in the Hebrew,
Gabbatha.40 He was afraid now
also perhaps of the appearance
of having conversed with Jesus
too long in private in the
prætorium, and of not having
carried on the proceedings in
the strict form, throned on the
judgment-seat; therefore he
hastened first of all to restore
the formal proprieties. He had
mounted the judicial throne
first of all to release Jesus.
He ascended it the second time
to condemn Him. Meanwhile a long
time had elapsed before it came
to this. John specifies the time
of this event, because it was
the critical moment, in the way
that he generally likes to fix
the time of such events
(Joh 11:39). He says it was the
preparation of the Passover, and
about the sixth hour. It was
about the time of noon.41 Pilate
was now proudly seated on the
judgment-seat. But it was as if
from henceforward his
consciousness was entirely
wavering in an alternation of
cowardly dejection and ironical
haughtiness. The more the
supremacy of the Jews had
inwardly overcome him, the more
unbecomingly he sought to bring
out his external supremacy.
‘Behold your King!’ he cried,
mockingly, to the people, as he
pointed to Jesus. It appears as
if he had, in exasperation,
wished to throw back on them the
reproach that he was not Cæsar’s
friend. The Jews, however, cried
out, ‘Away with Him, away with
Him; crucify Him!’ And to the
sarcastic question of the judge,
‘Shall I crucify your King?’ the
high priests declared, ‘We have
no king but Cæsar.’ Therewith
they renounced altogether the
theocratic hope of the Messiah,
in order only to satisfy their
thirst of blood against Jesus.
It was the third and last step
of the rejection of the Messiah
to the heathens. They threw away
even the hope of the Messiah, as
well as the person of Jesus, to
the heathen, in order that they
might destroy this personality.
After this assertion, the Jews
rightly fell altogether under
the Roman power. But equally
also Pilate had fallen under the
diabolical power of the Jews
hostile to Christ, and he
determined to deliver the object
of their persecution to them to
be crucified.
To deliver Him, we must say with
John; and Matthew explains to us
more particularly how this is to
be understood. As the
disturbance against Pilate waxed
greater to an uproar which wore
the appearance of a legitimate
revolt in the interest of the
Roman Cæsar, against the
pretended political
unfaithfulness of Pilate; and as
he was unable any longer to
resist the tempest of threats,
he took water and washed his
hands before the people, saying,
‘I am innocent of the blood of
this just man42 see ye to it’ (it
is now your affair). Then
answered the whole people, ‘His
blood be upon us, and upon our
children.’43 Pilate imagined thus
at last to consent to the demand
with which the Jews had come to
him at the first,—namely, that
he would merely confirm and
execute their
sentence of death. But therein
he deceived himself, and thus
the ceremony had none the more
truth in it that he washed his
hands to confirm his innocence.
Had he done this immediately at
the beginning, at the bringing
before him of Jesus, and in the
conviction that he was therein
allowing a right of the Jews to
decide in religious matters on
life and death, his cause at
least would have been wholly
different from what it was
now,—when for some hours the
proceeding had been opened
against Jesus, and it could no
longer be discontinued,—when he
could no longer abandon the
accused to the Jews with
conviction, but only with
cowardly ignoble fear, and
against his own conviction. As
powerless as was his ceremony of
cleansing from sin, so powerful
was the imprecation of the
Jewish people; and subsequent
times have learned how terribly
it has been accomplished.
In this moment the three great
powers of human association
combined—the hierarchy,
political power, and the
people—to condemn the Lord of
Glory to death: the hierarchy,
in the double mummery of
political subjection, and of the
most abject demagogic popular
infatuation; political power, in
the whole show and pomp of its
independence, righteousness and
humanity in its deepest
humiliation, under the imperious
caprices of the hierarchy and of
the mob; the holy people, the
pretended everlastingly free
people, in the complete form of
the no people, of the mob,
rejecting in fanatical uproar
its rightful Lord, revolting, in
hypocritical devotion for the
Cæsar, against his
representative. Where can be
seen political tyranny,
legitimate hierarchy, and
mob-uproar, in a wilder medley
than here, where all political
powers have united to raise
themselves in one great
diabolical chaos against the
Prince of the kingdom of God?
(Psa 2:1-12)
The Jewish hierarchy is the most
deeply guilty; next to that, the
people of the promise, which is
here changed by its own agency
into a people of the curse. It
cannot, indeed, be asserted that
here it was, in the main, the
same voices which cried out the
‘Crucify Him, crucify Him,’
against Jesus which a few days
before hailed Him with the
hosanna. There the best of the
people appeared in the
foreground, here the worst; and
only a medley of slavish and
wavering minds would find
themselves here again among the
rabble of the high council, who
had then attached themselves to
the royal priestly people of the
Messiah. But where in this case
were the better ones who had
shouted hosanna! Thrice
resounded the great liturgy of
death spoken by the Jews on the
temple-mountain against the
Messiah, Crucify, crucify Him!
There was heard no
contradiction. Thus had the
elected people fulfilled against
itself the doom of
self-rejection. Moreover, even
the heathen world had doomed
itself. Greek civilization and
Roman justice had become, in the
person of Pilate, the servants
of the Jewish fanaticism which
was hostile to Christ. The
mighty worldly pomp, the nursery
of civic right, had become a
slavish executioner of a
degraded priestly caste, and of
an inquisition hostile to
humanity. The entire old world
accomplished the judgment of
self-rejection in sealing the
doom of the Prince of the new
world, the inheritor of its
blessing.
The rejection of Jesus was
actually declared when Pilate
released to the Jews their
Barabbas. The spirit of
Barabbas, the seditious man and
the murderer, became thenceforth
the gloomy genius of the
political life of the people.
This is proved by the history of
the Jewish war. But whilst he
was set free in triumph, Jesus
was once more stripped of the
soldier’s cloak and dressed in
His own clothes, and was hurried
away to the place of execution.
Certainly this condemnation and
leading to death of Jesus
resulted, moreover, in the
redemption and release of still
another Barabbas, namely, of
fallen man in general, as having
committed sedition against God
and murder against its brethren,
and thereupon is fallen into the
heavy bondage of sin. Christ
goes away to release the
prisoners who long for freedom.44
───♦───
Notes
1. The circumstance that only
Luke narrates the leading away
of Jesus before the judgment of
Herod, while all the other
Evangelists are silent about it,
is said by Strauss to result in
this, that ‘the conjecture must
remain open that the anecdote
originated in the endeavour to
place Jesus before the tribunals
assembled in Jerusalem in all
possible ways, and to say that
He was indeed treated with
contempt by all authorities not
hierarchical, but that still His
innocence was acknowledged
either implicitly or explicitly,
and that He Himself maintained
before all His equal dignity and
demeanour.’ The critic has
evidently observed something of
the ideality of this
characteristic of evangelic
history, and it is this which
induces him to question its
being historical. The fact that
Luke alone narrates the
circumstance referred to, proves
just as little as the contrasted
phenomenon that Luke omits the
execution of the scourging,
whereupon the critic wishes to
conclude ‘that in Luke there was
no actual scourging.’
2. The fact that among the
Romans there was a twofold
scourging,—the one which served
for torture (quæstio per
tormenta) or for punishment, the
other as preparatory to
execution (comp. Sepp, 509),—may
enlighten us upon the difficulty
which has arisen between the
narratives of the two first
Evangelists and that of John, in
reference to the scourging of
Jesus. We may beforehand, for
instance, suppose without
difficulty that Pilate allowed
the same scourging which was at
first intended as torture or as
punishment, to satisfy the
thirst for revenge of the Jews,
to pass subsequently, when the
execution was decided on, as its
introduction. Thus the
Evangelists might apprehend this
scourging according to its
different aspects. John regarded
it according to the original
motives under which Pilate had
arranged it, and Luke also
brings out this reference
strongly (Luk 23:16). Matthew
and Mark, on the other hand,
represent the scourging, in its
world-historical importance, as
preparatory to, and the
beginning of, the sufferings of
the cross of Christ. Thence it
is plain, moreover, that they
take it away from its original
connection, and place it at the
close of the sufferings of
Christ before Pilate’s tribunal.
Nay, even the apparent
differences between the
specifications of time of John
and of Mark respectively, become
set aside by this observation
(see the above note). To suppose
a twofold scourging, as Ebrard
does (433), is not allowable,
for this reason, that the act of
scourging, of which the first
Evangelist speaks, perfectly
resembles that described by
John, and referred to by Luke in
its issue in the history of the
crowning with thorns.
3. According to Von Baur’s
familiar criticism (see his
above cited work, 163), ‘this
whole manner of treatment
pursued by Pilate proceeds from
the interest of the Evangelist
in order to roll back all the
guilt from him, the executioner
of the punishment of death, upon
the Jews, the special contrivers
of the death of Jesus,’ &c. And
yet in the section referred to
it is the guilt of Pilate which
is expressly spoken of.
According to V. Baur’s
supposition, the author of the
Gospel must have written so
awkwardly as to have flatly
contradicted his own idea and
purpose! or rather, Herr von
Baur is generally unfortunate
here in his daring reference to
him, contradicting, as it does,
the text that he has given. But
apart from that expression of
Christ, ‘He that delivered Me
unto thee hath the greater sin,’
does this description of
Pilate’s character in John give
the impression that he comes out
from this intercourse without
guilt? Thus our critic appears
to understand the judgment of
moral character; ‘he finds
Pilate guiltless according to
John.’ And the author of the
Gospel is not only to remain
guiltless, but also here to be
the noble idealist who changes
his ideas in a praiseworthy
manner into fictitious
histories, although he seeks to
falsify the true character of
Pilate, which has so much
importance for the Church of
Christ, in the very face of that
Church. The picture of this
idealist is a creation of Mr Von
Baur, which may place itself
according to his moral taste,
free from reproach, and
deserving of praise, near the
guiltless Pilate of his
pretended imagination. Comp.
Thiersch, Versuch zur
Herstellung d. historischen
Standpunktes für die Kritik d.
N. T. Schriften, p. xxiii.
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1) The prætorium (πραιτώριον) is, first of all, the general s pavilion in the Roman camp ; then the dwelling of the head of the province (prætor, proprætor), where he administered justice also. See Winer, article Richthaus. The prætorium of Pilate was the old royal palace of Herod, Sepp, iii. 527. 2) Vol. i. p. 164. It is remarkable that, according to the Jewish tradition, the members of the Sanhedrim were bound to spend the day fasting on which they had condemned a man to death.
3)
Crucifixion was not only
customary among the Romans
'(according to Cicero, since the
time of Tarquin), but also among
the Persians, Africans and
Egyptians, 4) Upon the Roman mode of procedure, see Friedlieb, 105.
5)
See Luke, ver. 14; ἐγὼ ἐνώπιον
ὑμῶν ἀνακρίνας. Pilate could not
have with drawn into the
prætorium with the accused in
order to hear Him in secret, for
Roman judgments must be held
publicly (Friedlieb, 104). He
withdrew, it is probable, that
the trial might be proceeded
with undisturbed. Therein the
complainants were represented by
individuals who determined to
renounce the keeping of the
Passover, with the purpose of
celebrating the smaller Passover
subsequently. Such 6) The judge must pronounce the judgment from, a dignified position—from the judgment-seat. The Roman judges placed this on a conspicuous stone platform (Lithostroton), which might be adorned in various ways with beautiful mosaic work. Such stone platforms were taken by Roman generals even in war along with them. But it was natural that before the praetorian palace especially a high pavement of such a kind should be erected (Gabbatha). Winer has, however, reasonably doubted (Art. Lithostroton) whether the Lithostroton mentioned by Josephus, De Bella Jud. 6, 1, 8, is here meant. [Byneeus (iii. 167) gives the definition of Lithostroton from Pliny, a pavement, parvulis certe crustis, i.e., as above, a mosaic pavement. He also quotes from Suetonius Life of Julius Caesar, that he in expeditionibus tessellata et sectilia pavimenta circumtulisse. In the same place it is very distinctly made out that Gabbatha, while a name of the same place, signified the slight eminence on which the tribunal was raised, quo magis conspicua sedes foret.—ED.] 7) John xii. 14. Comp. above, p. 43. 8) [So that the state policy of Rome has received for its motto these words from Tacit. Annul, xi. 24 : Transferendo hue quod usquam egregiuin fuerit.—ED.] 9) Rauschenbusch (Lcbcn Jesu, 401) observes: Pilate remembered that formerly, in Rome, many sacrifices could only be offered by kings, and that thus, in the times of the Republic, for these sacrifices a sacrificial king, as he was called, was chosen, for it was the name of a king that was wanted. Just so, even to the times of Pilate, some families had the undisputed surname of king (Sueton., Life of Cæsar, 6th ch.) Pilate must, indeed, first try whether he is to give the title of king to Jesus from Jewish traditions. 10) Sepp assures his readers that this is actually the standpoint of modern Protestantism. 11) Ebrard, 428. 12) He referred Him from the forum apprehensionis ad forum originis vel domicilii. Friedlieb, 107. This policy was not strange in the Romish kingdom. Comp. Dionys. Hal., L. iv. c. 22. In a similar way, also (Acts xxvi. 3), Festus seized a favourable opportunity not to disoblige the exasperated Jews who panted for the blood of Paul.—Comp. Sepp, 495. On the later palace of the elder Herod, in which probably the Galilean prince Herod resided during his sojourn in Jerusalem, compare Sepp, 496. 13) Thus there is no question of a 'guilty answer' as Strauss wishes here (ii. 498). 14) See Rauschenbusch, Lcben Jcsu, 405. 15) Sepp, iii. 496. 16) The supposition of Olshausen, that it appears on this trial that Jesus was not born in Nazareth, but in Bethlehem and so not under the jurisdiction of Herod and that this influenced the trial, is really trifling. Strauss, ii. 498. 17) Friedlieb, 109. [Ellicott (344, note) says that it seems very doubtful whether this was the white robe of the candidatus, and prefers to consider it a gorgeous robe, designed to express Herod s contempt for the pretensions of this king. What he says, however, upon the word λαμπρὸς not being applicable to the robe of the candidate, because not necessarily involving the idea of whiteness, would equally apply to candidus itself. That λαμπρὸς may be used to express the glittering whiteness of the candidate s robe, is plain from the fact that in Polybius, x. 15, λαμπρὸς is the very word chosen for that purpose. Whether it be so used here admits of doubt.—ED.] 18) We are referred, in this place, to the fact that Pilate had formerly put to the sword in Jerusalem certain Galileans (Luke xiii. 1). But the disunion between a tetrarch of Galilee and a Roman procurator hardly needed this special explanation, particularly if the characters of the two men be taken into account.
19)
Sepp makes the remark here
(501): 'Thus the Lord, in His
extremest humiliation, was still
the means of reconciliation
among His enemies.' Could the
important 20) Chiefly in the apocryphal gospel of Nicodemus. An ancient Roman law of the State, which Augustus had once more put in force, prohibited Roman statesmen and legates from taking their wives with them into the provinces entrusted to them. They wished to avert the prejudicial paralyzing influences which they might exercise upon the course of world-subduing policy. Evidently a prelude of the Roman Catholic celibate. But under Tiberius these decrees were so far modified, as that the governors were to be held responsible for all the intrigues of their wives. Sepp, iii. 507; Tacit. Annal. iii. 33, 34, iv. 20. [The note of Lipsius on the passage cited from Tacitus contains all the information necessary on this point. Bynteus (iii. 106) quotes in addition from Ulpian: 'Proficisci autem Proconsulem melius quidem est sine uxore. Sed et cum uxore potest: dummodo sciat Senatum, Cotta et Messala consulibus, censuisse futurum, ut si quid uxores deliquerint, ab ipsis ratio et vindicta exigatur.'—ED.] 21) As formerly Calphurnia warned Cocsar of the fatal day. Sepp, iii. 506. 22) Strauss, Dogmatik, i. 389. 23) Strauss, ii. 502. On this exaggeration of a pettifogging mode of arguing, see Ebrard, 431. 24) Neander, 461.
25)
'A twofold scourging was in use
among the Romans. The one was
inflicted on those who were
already condemned to
crucifixion. It was so
barbarous, that the 26) That the Israelites were glad to execute great criminals at festivals, appears entirely (as Sepp supposes, iii. 502) to refer to a parallel between their mis-doers and the scapegoats, which were slain on the great day of atonement ; and therefore their disposition also to release a prisoner at the feast might be referred to the goat, which was let go free into the desert (Lev. xvi. 22). Sepp supposes that this custom was very ancient among the Jews. But since up to the time of Pilate they had lost their domestic jurisdiction over criminal offences to the Romans, they would have acquired for it the right alluded to, by which that old custom was maintained. This observance may have orginated all the more easily, that even the Romans at all times were accustomed, at the Lectisternia and Bacchanalia, to allow an amnesty for criminals. From the passage of John, indeed, follows nothing more than that Pilate, and perhaps also his predecessors, had adopted this custom.— Friedlieb, iii. [Some, with apparent justice, found on John xviii. 39, Ye have a custom, and conclude that this was purely of Jewish origin. So Bynæus, and Gerhard, who thinks that the liberation of prisoners was appropriate at a feast which commemorated the deliverance from Egyptian bondage. See also Ewald, p. 480. ED.] 27) According to a reading of Origen, he must have, besides, borne the surname of Jesus. Olshausen has found a significance in both the names in connection with the personality which here represented the mournful caricature of Jesus. Strauss mocks at it (ii. 501), whereby he must assume that names could never gain an ironical meaning for those who bear them, and wherein he must overlook the fact, that Bar-abbas was actually the caricature which the Jews wanted to make of Jesus. [The reading, Jesus Barabbas, is adopted by Ewald, Meyer, and others, but rejected by Tischendorf, Alford, and Ellicott. Ewald (p. 480) thinks the similarity of the name might suggest him to Pilate as a substitute for Jesus. So also Meyer on Matt, xxvii. 16. Ewald and Renan (406) prefer Bar-Rabban (Son of a Rabbi) to Bar-abbas ; and on the connection between the titles Abba and Rabbi, see Ewald, p. 233. ED.] 28) Generally the scourging was inflicted by lictors. But Pilate, as sub-governor, had no lictors at his disposal, and therefore had it inflicted by soldiers. Thus Jesus was probably not scourged with rods, but with a scourge twisted of leather thongs. Friedlieb, 115. [Full details and ancient authorities may be seen in Bynæus (iii. 131, et seq. ) Between the rods and the thongs he makes the distinction, Liber_virgis, servus cscdebatur flagellis ; and quotes the following lines from Prudentius:
'Vinctus in his Dominus stetit
scdibus, atque columnse 29) On the frightful weight and effect of the Roman scourging, and the shocking thirst for blood of the Romans of that time generally, comp. Sepp, iii. 511 : Still the sufferings of Jesus have ever thus testified their redeeming power; so that where His word penetrated, this arbitrariness decreased from day to day.—Rauschenbusch, Leben Jesu, 409. 30) Friedlieb, 116. 31) Compare Fredlieb, 117. 32) It is just as little possible accurately to define the kind of thorns with which Christ was crowned, as has been frequently attempted (Sepp, 513; Friedlieb, 119), as it is reasonable with Paulus to make of the thorns mere hedge shrubs. [Of the attempts to identify the species of thorn, Bynams says (iii. 145): Nemo attulit aliquid certi, et profecto afferri omnino nequit. The remark of Ellicott (p. 348, note) should be kept in view: As mockery seems to have been the primary object, the choice of the plant was not suggested by the sharpness of its thorns: the solders took what first came to hand, utterly careless whether it was likely to inflict pain or no. However, there can be little doubt that they would prefer a painful mockery, if that were equally at hand.—ED.]
33)
Matthew here declares exactly
that the cloak was a plain
pallium, dyed with coccus. The
designations in Mark and John,
purple, and purple robe, are not
merely 34) Probably a so-called reed of Cyprus (now called a Spanish reed). Sepp, iii. 516. 35) The tradition which still shows in Jerusalem the arch Ecce homo, on which Pilate placed Christ before the people, with the words, Behold what a man it is ! (see Von Raumer, Palästina, 291), reasonably assumes that Jesus was placed as a spectacle to the people upon an elevated place. 36) Sepp, iii. 519. 37) He did not indeed escape this destiny, since subsequently lie was complained of on account of his acts of violence, and deposed. [The history of Pilate is continued in Josephus Antiq. xviii. 4 ; and his tragic end briefly mentioned by Eusebius, Eccl. Hist. ii. 7. ED.] 38) Compare Acts xviii. 17. 39) Majestatis crirnen omnium accusationum complementurn erat. Tac. Annal. iii. 38. 40) 'The form of the judgment was not prescribed, but it was to be brief and valid. Usually it was, "ibis ad crueem." But the reasons of the sentence might be added.' Aclrichomius gives a formula which he professes to have taken from ancient annals, as the judgment of Pilate. Friedlieb, p. 112. 41) The specification of the hours was often made indefinitely according to the four divisions of the day,—about the first or the third hour, If John, however, says that it was now about the sixth hour, while Mark says it was the third hour when they crucified Him, it appears to prove a contradiction. Moreover, I cannot solve this, as Tholuck and others, by the supposition that John is here following the calculation of the hours in the Roman form, and Mark the Jewish mode. For it is plain that the members of the Sanhedrim did not hold their last sitting till six o'clock in the morning; and from that time till the final sentence of Jesus, so many intervening circumstances occurred, that after their lapse it could no longer by possibility be about six o’clock in the morning. If we suppose that it was some time past nine o’clock, John might write that it was about the sixth hour, since the times of the day were named separately in relation to the third, sixth, and ninth hour, those times being appointed for prayer (Friedlieb, 126). The sixth hour was kept holy by the Jews, especially on the Sabbath-days, and probably also on feast-days. Josephus, (Vita, 54) tells of a stormy gathering of the people, which was dissolved by the consideration of the near approach of the sixth hour, which was especially strictly observed among the Jews (Wieseler, 411). Sepp (p. 531) wishes to bring out, from consideration of the astronomical relations, that it was about eleven o’clock in the forenoon, or somewhat after, describing the day as a summer day. But apart from the observation that the numbering of the hours among the Jews remained alike, in all probability, at all seasons of the year, reckoning from six o'clock in the morning, it is especially to be had in mind that the 7th April, on which Jesus was crucified, is not far beyond the spring equinox, at which the day begins at six o'clock. The main point is perhaps that John means to say that the sacred hour of noon, which had hurried the Jews (and mediately Pilate) to the conclusion of their transaction, had already drawn near, when Pilate sate down on the judgment-seat to complete the judicial sentence. But when Mark writes that it was the third hour when the crucifixion of Jesus began, and thus refers us to the time after nine o’clock in the morning, it is to be considered that the Synoptists, who regarded the details of Pilate's waverings less than John, reckoned the scourging of Christ and the crowning with thorns as an introduction to the crucifixion (see Note 2). Thus the special hour of the crucifixion which Mark puts forward by way of supplement, is referred to the retrospect of the whole course of events from the moment when the crucifixion began, according to the view of the Synoptists, with the scourging (ver. 15), to the moment when it was completed (ver, 24), and is thus dated at the beginning of the scourging [The early opinions are carefully collected by Bynæus (iii, 178-94), and the recent may be seen in Andrews, p. 457-9.—ED.] 42) Strauss thinks that the hand washing, as an expression of purity from blood-guiltiness, was a specifically Jewish custom, according to Deut. xxi. 6. Specifically? Can that be gathered from the passage quoted ? Does it at all say that the hand-washing of this kind was not the custom among the heathens ? How comes the critic here in possession of that expression, specifically? He thinks, moreover, that Pilate could not have cared much for intimating his innocence of the death of Jesus. In fact, the critic here blackens Pilate above measure, contrary to the testimony of the Evangelist, who is not at all willing to characterize the condemnation of Jesus as a trifling matter, which could not have given much anxiety to so great a man of the world. That the washing of the hands was acknowledged both among the Greeks and Romans as a sign of innocence, comp. Ebrard, 432; Sepp, iii. 525. And even although nothing similar is found in Roman trials (Friedlieb, 123), still Pilate might have been led to its performance by his familiarity with the meaning of a symbolical treatment, even if the Jewish view had not induced him to it; for it is not to be forgotten that the events of the evangelic history exercised a peculiarly exciting influence over the feelings, which might suggest the formation of proverbs and practices, and so also the invention upon the spur of the moment of a symbolical treatment. 43) 'But this is evidently only expressed from the Christian standing.Strauss evidently makes this observation (ii. 504) on the supposition that it is not possible for a raving crowd of people to express an imprecation of the kind intimated; or, on the other hand, that it is not permissible, in the misfortune which soon after the death of Jesus broke over the Jewish nation in stronger and stronger shocks, to seek to discover the blood-guiltiness which arose from the execution of Jesus. 44) See Sepp, iii. 526.
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