Pontius Pilate 

Pontius Pilate was the Roman procurator who governed Judea and Samaria, under the immediate supervision of the deputy of Syria. He began his rule in 26 CE, the same year of Jesus’ baptism. He happened to be stationed in Jerusalem during the week of Passover, the week during which Jesus was arrested, tried, and crucified. Pontius Pilate played a major role in Jesus’ fate from the beginning by authorizing the company of soldiers to arrest Jesus and later by presiding over his unjust trial and ultimately ordering his crucifixion. Had he been stronger of character, he might have set Jesus free. But he was fearful of condemnation by the Jewish authorities.

Although he was a fairly good administrator, Pilate was a moral coward, a judicial weakling, and a religious skeptic. He was not a big enough man to comprehend the nature of his task as governor of the Jews. He failed to grasp the depth of the Jews’ resentment of Roman rule, and the fact that these Hebrews had a real religion, a faith for which they were willing to die. He failed to understand that faithful Jews looked to Jerusalem as the shrine of their faith and held the Sanhedrin in respect as the highest tribunal on earth. And it was the Sanhedrin who demanded that Jesus be put to death.

Pilate had a difficult history with the Jews under his rule. Due to several missteps, outright violations of Jewish sensibility, and unjust rulings, the Jews held him in contempt. He was easily threatened by them, and he feared their anger, which explains why he finally gave in to their demands that Jesus be put to death. And in the end, he became superstitious and fearful when he suspected that Jesus might really be who he claimed to be – a divine person.

Even though this cowardly official knew in his heart that Jesus was an innocent man, Pilate could not summon the courage to set him free, for fear of losing his position and its prestige. He washed his hands of responsibility and ordered Jesus to be crucified. He crafted the notice that was nailed to his cross and set a guard at his tomb.

Sometime later, Pilate died by suicide in the province of Lausanne.

Pilate did not love the Jews, and his deep-seated hatred early began to manifest itself. Very early in his experience as governor, he made two terrible blunders that infuriated the Jews. One had to do with the image of Caesar that Roman soldiers carried on their banners. It was forbidden to have these images inside Jerusalem. But Pilate disregarded this serious breach of Jewish sentiment and even threatened death to those who insisted that they be removed. The protesters were prepared to die over this matter, but Pilate was not prepared to carry out his threats. So he surrendered to the protests and ordered the images removed, demonstrating to the Jews his weakness in this judicial matter. He tried to get around the situation by having the banners displayed on the walls of Herod’s palace. But the protests went directly to Rome this time, and the emperor himself ordered them to be removed. This placed Pilate in even lower esteem in the eyes of the Jews.

Another incident involved Pilate’s appropriating temple funds for a municipal water project that was to accommodate visitors to the city during feast days. Only the Sanhedrin were permitted access to these temple funds, and there was a violent display of outrage over it that resulted in numerous riots, much bloodshed, and even the slaughter of a large group of innocent Galilean worshipers.

These incidents gave the Jewish authorities a lot of power over Pontius Pilate. It is easy to understand why they presumed to dictate to Pilate — even to make him get up at six o’clock in the morning to try Jesus — and also why they did not hesitate to threaten to charge him with treason before the emperor if he dared to refuse their demands for Jesus’ death.

If Pontius Pilate had not become so unfortunately involved with the rulers of the Jews he would never have permitted these bloodthirsty religious fanatics to bring about the death of a man whom he himself had declared to be innocent of their false charges and without fault. Rome made a great blunder, a far-reaching error in earthly affairs, when she sent the second-rate Pilate to govern Palestine.

On the night of the last supper, Judas Iscariot returned to the upper room with a group of temple guards, ready to arrest Jesus, thinking that only Jesus and the eleven apostles would be there. But they found the room empty; Jesus and the eleven apostles were on their way to Gethsemane. Through a series of attempts to gather armed guards (for Judas suspected that there would now be armed men with Jesus), they finally ended up at Pontius Pilate’s home as their last recourse. It was late that Thursday night when they arrived at Pilate’s house, and he had retired to his private chambers with his wife, Claudia Procula. He hesitated to have anything to do with the enterprise, all the more so since his wife had asked him not to grant the request. But because the presiding officer of the Jewish Sanhedrin was present and because he made a personal request for permission to use armed Roman guards, Pilate thought it wise to grant the petition, thinking he could later on right any wrong they might commit.

By the time Jesus was brought to Pilate by the Sanhedrin, it was shortly after 6am Friday morning, April 7, 30 CE. He knew they were coming because he had been informed of this by those who had come to him the previous night to secure the armed guards. And he was up and ready.

When Jesus and his accusers were all assembled, Pilate came out and asked, “What accusation do you bring against this fellow?” The Sanhedrin did not want to volunteer the charges, so the spokesman answered, “If this man were not an evildoer, we should not have delivered him up to you.”

Pilate said, “Since you have not agreed on any definite charges, why do you not take this man and pass judgment on him in accordance with your own laws?”

Then the clerk of the Sanhedrin court said to Pilate: “It is not lawful for us to put any man to death, and this disturber of our nation is worthy to die for the things which he has said and done. Therefore, have we come before you for confirmation of this decree.”

Pilate knew that their charges were probably trivial, and he was glad to put these Sanhedrists in their place by making them understand that they had no power to pronounce and execute the death sentence upon even one of their own race.

Pilate resented the disrespectful manner of these Sanhedrists, and he was not willing to go along with their demands that Jesus be sentenced to death without a trial. After a few moments of waiting for them to present their charges against the prisoner, he turned to them and said: “I will not sentence this man to death without a trial; neither will I consent to examine him until you have presented your charges against him in writing.”

When the high priest and the others heard Pilate say this, they signaled to the clerk of the court, who handed Pilate the written charges against Jesus. And these charges were:

“We find in the Sanhedrist tribunal that this man is an evildoer and a disturber of our nation in that he is guilty of:

1. Perverting our nation and stirring up our people to rebellion.
2. Forbidding the people to pay tribute to Caesar.
3. Calling himself the king of the Jews and teaching the founding of a new kingdom.”

Pilate had Jesus brought from the praetorium, where he was being held under guard, because he had not even heard the charges against him yet. And Pilate had the charges repeated to Jesus.

Pilate asked Jesus to answer his accusers, but Jesus remained silent. Pilate was amazed at the unfairness of this proceeding and decided to take Jesus inside so that he could speak to him in private.

Pilate was confused in mind, fearful of the Jews in his heart, and mightily stirred in his spirit by the spectacle of Jesus’ standing there in majesty before his bloodthirsty accusers and gazing down on them, not in silent contempt, but with an expression of genuine pity and sorrowful affection.

Jesus and John Zebedee were taken into Pliate’s quarters. (John was permitted to accompany Jesus throughout his ordeal this Friday and was under Roman protection as the one friend that a prisoner was permitted to have with them.) Pilate began his talk with Jesus by assuring him that he did not believe the first count against him: that he was a perverter of the nation and an inciter to rebellion. Then he asked, “Did you ever teach that tribute should be refused Caesar?” Jesus, pointing to John, said, “Ask him or any other man who has heard my teaching.” Then Pilate questioned John about this matter of tribute, and John testified concerning his Master’s teaching and explained that Jesus and his apostles paid taxes both to Caesar and to the temple. When Pilate had questioned John, he said, “See that you don’t tell anyone that I talked with you.” And John never did reveal this matter.

Pilate then turned around to question Jesus further, saying: “And now about the third accusation against you, are you the king of the Jews?” Since there was a tone of possibly sincere inquiry in Pilate’s voice, Jesus smiled on the procurator and said: “Pilate, do you ask this for yourself, or do you take this question from these others, my accusers?” The governor answered: “Am I a Jew? Your own people and the chief priests delivered you up and asked me to sentence you to death. I question the validity of their charges and am only trying to find out for myself what you have done. Tell me, have you said that you are the king of the Jews, and have you sought to found a new kingdom?”

Then said Jesus to Pilate: “Do you not perceive that my kingdom is not of this world? If my kingdom were of this world, surely would my disciples fight that I should not be delivered into the hands of the Jews. My presence here before you in these bonds is sufficient to show all men that my kingdom is a spiritual dominion, even the brotherhood of men who, through faith and by love, have become the sons of God. And this salvation is for the gentile as well as for the Jew.”

“Then you are a king after all?” said Pilate. And Jesus answered: “Yes, I am such a king, and my kingdom is the family of the faith sons of my Father who is in heaven. For this purpose was I born into this world, even that I should show my Father to all men and bear witness to the truth of God. And even now do I declare to you that every one who loves the truth hears my voice.”

Then Pilate said, half in ridicule and half in sincerity, “Truth, what is truth — who knows?”

Pilate could not understand Jesus’ words, nor was he able to understand the nature of his spiritual kingdom, but he was now certain that the prisoner had done nothing worthy of death. Pilate was thoroughly convinced that, instead of being a dangerous political rabble rouser, Jesus was nothing more or less than a harmless visionary, an innocent fanatic.

Pilate went back to the chief priests and the accusers of Jesus and said: “I have examined this man, and I find no fault in him. I do not think he is guilty of the charges you have made against him; I think he ought to be set free.” And when the Jews heard this, they became very angry, so much so that they wildly shouted that Jesus should die; and one of the Sanhedrists boldly stepped up by the side of Pilate, saying: “This man stirs up the people, beginning in Galilee and continuing throughout all Judea. He is a mischief-maker and an evildoer. You will long regret it if you let this wicked man go free.”

Pilate was hard-pressed to know what to do with Jesus; therefore, when he heard them say that he began his work in Galilee, he thought to avoid the responsibility of deciding the case by sending Jesus to appear before Herod, who was then in the city attending the Passover.

Pilate, calling the guards, said: “This man is a Galilean. Take him to Herod, and when he has examined him, report his findings to me.” And they took Jesus to Herod.

But after Jesus would neither talk nor perform any wonders for him, Herod, after making fun of him for a time, arrayed him in an old purple royal robe and sent him back to Pilate.

When the guards had brought Jesus back to Pilate, he went out on the front steps of the praetorium, where his judgment seat had been placed, and calling together the chief priests and Sanhedrists, said to them: “You brought this man before me with charges that he perverts the people, forbids the payment of taxes, and claims to be king of the Jews. I have examined him and fail to find him guilty of these charges. In fact, I find no fault in him. Then I sent him to Herod, who must have reached the same conclusion since he has sent him back to us. Certainly, nothing worthy of death has been done by this man. If you still think he needs to be disciplined, I am willing to chastise him before I release him.”

Just then a vast crowd came marching up to the praetorium for the purpose of asking Pilate for the release of a prisoner in honor of the Passover feast. It occurred to Pilate that he might escape from his predicament by proposing to this group that, since Jesus was now a prisoner before his judgment seat, he would release this man of Galilee to them as the token of Passover good will.

But the crowd was calling out the name of Barabbas, a murderer, thief, and political agitator who had already been sentenced to die.

Pilate tried to explain to the crowd that Jesus was not a criminal like Barabbas. He said, “Which, therefore, would you prefer that I release to you, this Barabbas, the murderer, or this Jesus of Galilee?” And upon hearing this, the chief priests and the Sanhedrin councilors all shouted at the top of their voices, “Barabbas, Barabbas!” And when the people saw that the chief priests were minded to have Jesus put to death, they quickly shouted for the release of Barabbas, too.

Pilate was angered at the sight of the chief priests shouting for the blood of Jesus and calling for the release of a murderer. He saw their malice and hatred and perceived their prejudice and envy. He said to them: “How could you choose the life of a murderer in preference to this man’s whose worst crime is that he figuratively calls himself the king of the Jews?” But this was not a wise statement for Pilate to make. The Jews resented, more than Pilate could know, the suggestion that this meek-mannered teacher of strange doctrines should be referred to as “the king of the Jews.” They looked upon such a remark as an insult to everything which they held sacred and honorable and they all shouted even louder for Barabbas’s release and Jesus’ death.

Pilate knew Jesus was innocent of the charges brought against him, and had he been a just and courageous judge, he would have acquitted him and turned him loose. But he was afraid to defy these angry Jews, and while he hesitated to do his duty, a messenger came up and presented him with a sealed message from his wife, Claudia Procula.

When Pilate opened this letter from his wife, he read: “I pray you have nothing to do with this innocent and just man whom they call Jesus. I have suffered many things in a dream tonight because of him.” This note from Claudia not only greatly upset Pilate and thereby delayed the matter at hand, but it unfortunately also provided a good deal of time in which the Jewish rulers circulated among the crowd and urged the people to call for the release of Barabbas and to demand the crucifixion of Jesus. This crowd was made up of those who did not know Jesus; his followers did not know he had been arrested yet.

Finally, Pilate asked the crowd, “What shall I do with him who is called the king of the Jews?” And they all shouted with one accord, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” It seemed that everyone agreed and this startled and alarmed Pilate, the unjust and fear-ridden judge.

Then once more Pilate said: “Why would you crucify this man? What evil has he done? Who will come forward to testify against him?” But when they heard Pilate speak in defense of Jesus, they only cried out all the more, “Crucify him! Crucify him!”

Then for the last time, Pilate appealed to them regarding the release of the Passover prisoner, saying: “Once more I ask you, which of these prisoners shall I release to you at this, your Passover time?” And again the crowd shouted, “Give us Barabbas!”

Then Pilate said: “If I release the murderer, Barabbas, what shall I do with Jesus?” And once more the multitude shouted in unison, “Crucify him! Crucify him!”

Pilate was terrorized by the insistent noise of the mob, acting under the direct leadership of the chief priests and the councilors of the Sanhedrin; nevertheless, he decided upon at least one more attempt to appease the bloodthirsty crowd and save Jesus.

Pilate tried to appeal to their pity. Being afraid to defy this mob who cried for the blood of Jesus, he ordered the Jewish guards and the Roman soldiers to take Jesus and scourge him. This was in itself an unjust and illegal procedure but the guards took Jesus into the open courtyard of the praetorium for this ordeal. Though his enemies did not witness this scourging, Pilate did, and before they had finished this wicked abuse, he directed the scourgers to desist and indicated that Jesus should be brought to him.

Then Pilate led forth this bleeding and lacerated prisoner and, presenting him before the mob, said: “Behold the man! Again I declare to you that I find no crime in him, and having scourged him, I would release him.”

Pilate spoke more truly than he knew when, after Jesus had been scourged, he presented him before the multitude, exclaiming, “Behold the man!” Indeed, the fear-ridden Roman governor little dreamed that at just that moment the universe stood at attention, gazing upon this unique scene of its beloved Sovereign thus subjected in humiliation to the taunts and blows of his darkened and degraded mortal subjects. And as Pilate spoke, there echoed throughout the whole universe, “Behold God and man!”

Pilate finally understood that it was futile to appeal to their supposed feelings of pity. He stepped forward and said: “I perceive that you are determined this man shall die, but what has he done to deserve death? Who will declare his crime?”

Then the high priest himself stepped forward and, going up to Pilate, angrily declared: “We have a sacred law, and by that law this man ought to die because he made himself out to be the Son of God.” When Pilate heard this, he was all the more afraid, not only of the Jews, but recalling his wife’s note and the Greek mythology of the gods coming down on earth, he now trembled at the thought of Jesus possibly being a divine personage. He waved to the crowd to hold its peace while he took Jesus by the arm and again led him inside the building so that he might talk with him. Pilate was now confused by fear, bewildered by superstition, and harassed by the stubborn attitude of the mob.

As Pilate, trembling with fearful emotion, sat down by the side of Jesus, he asked: “Where do you come from? Really, who are you? What is this they say, that you are the Son of God?”

But Jesus could hardly answer such questions when asked by a man-fearing, weak, and vacillating judge who was so unjust as to subject him to flogging even when he had declared him innocent of all crime, and before he had been duly sentenced to die. Jesus looked Pilate straight in the face, but he did not answer him. Then said Pilate: “Do you refuse to speak to me? Do you not realize that I still have power to release you or to crucify you?” Then said Jesus: “You could have no power over me except it were permitted from above. You could exercise no authority over the Son of Man unless the Father in heaven allowed it.”

This last talk with Jesus thoroughly frightened Pilate. This moral coward and judicial weakling now labored under the double weight of the superstitious fear of Jesus and mortal dread of the Jewish leaders.

Again Pilate appeared before the crowd, saying: “I am certain this man is only a religious offender. You should take him and judge him by your law. Why should you expect that I would consent to his death because he has clashed with your traditions?”

Pilate was just about ready to release Jesus when Caiaphas, the high priest, approached the cowardly Roman judge and, shaking his finger in Pilate’s face, said with angry words which the entire multitude could hear: “If you release this man, you are not Caesar’s friend, and I will see that the emperor knows all.”

This public threat was too much for Pilate. Fear for his personal fortunes now eclipsed all other considerations, and the cowardly governor ordered Jesus brought out before the judgment seat. As the Master stood there before them, he pointed to him and said, “Behold your king.” And the Jews answered, “Away with him. Crucify him!” And then Pilate sarcastically said, “Shall I crucify your king?” And the Jews answered, “Yes, crucify him! We have no king but Caesar.” And then did Pilate realize that there was no hope of saving Jesus since he was unwilling to defy the Jews.

Pilate was afraid of a riot. He dared not risk having such a disturbance during Passover time in Jerusalem. And he did not want to risk a reprimand from Caesar. The mob cheered when he ordered the release of Barabbas. Then he ordered a basin and some water, and there before the multitude, he washed his hands, saying: “I am innocent of the blood of this man. You are determined that he shall die, but I have found no guilt in him. Do what you have to do. The soldiers will lead him forth.” And then the mob cheered and replied, “His blood be on us and on our children.”

After Pilate had washed his hands before the multitude, thus seeking to escape the guilt of delivering up an innocent man to be crucified because of his own weakness, he ordered the Master to be turned over to the Roman soldiers and gave the word to their captain that he was to be crucified immediately.

From first to last, in his so-called trial before Pilate, the onlooking celestial hosts could not refrain from broadcasting to the universe the depiction of the scene of “Pilate on trial before Jesus.”

It was the custom, after the victim had been nailed to the crossbeam and hoisted to his place on the upright timber, to nail a notice to the top of the cross, just above the head of the criminal, so that all witnesses might know for what crime the condemned man was being crucified. The notice which the centurion carried to put on the cross of Jesus had been written by Pilate himself in Latin, Greek, and Aramaic, and it read: “Jesus of Nazareth — the King of the Jews.”

Some of the Jewish authorities who were present when Pilate wrote this notice protested against calling Jesus the “king of the Jews.” But Pilate reminded them that such an accusation was part of the charge which led to his condemnation. When the Jews saw they could not prevail upon Pilate to change his mind, they pleaded that at least it be modified to read, “He said, ‘I am the king of the Jews.’” But Pilate was adamant; he would not alter the writing. To all further protests he only replied, “What I have written, I have written.”

The Jews were infuriated by this believed insult. But Pilate was annoyed by their disrespectful manner; he felt he had been intimidated and humiliated, and he took this method of obtaining petty revenge. He could have written “Jesus, a rebel.” But he well knew how these Jerusalem Jews detested the very name of Nazareth, and he was determined thus to humiliate them. He knew that they would also be cut to the very quick by seeing this executed Galilean called “The King of the Jews.”

Joseph of Arimathea, accompanied by Nicodemus, had gone to Pilate and asked that the body of Jesus be turned over to them for proper burial. It was not uncommon for friends of crucified persons to offer bribes to the Roman authorities for the privilege of gaining possession of such bodies. Joseph went before Pilate with a large sum of money, in case it became necessary to pay for permission to remove Jesus’ body to a private burial tomb. But Pilate would not take money for this. When he heard the request, he quickly signed the order which authorized Joseph to proceed to Golgotha and take immediate and full possession of the Master’s body.

About midnight that Friday, a group of Jewish leaders gathered at the home of Caiaphas, where they discussed their fears concerning the Master’s assertions that he would rise from the dead on the third day. This meeting ended with the appointment of a committee of Sanhedrists who were to visit Pilate early the next day, bearing the official request of the Sanhedrin that a Roman guard be stationed before Jesus’ tomb to prevent his friends from tampering with it. Said the spokesman of this committee to Pilate: “Sir, we remember that this deceiver, Jesus of Nazareth, said, while he was still alive, ‘After three days I will rise again.’ We have, therefore, come before you to request that you issue such orders as will make the tomb secure against his followers, at least until after the third day. We greatly fear lest his disciples come and steal him away by night and then tell the people that he has risen from the dead. If we should permit this to happen, this mistake would be far worse than to have allowed him to live.”

Pilate said: “I will give you a guard of ten soldiers. Go your way and make the tomb secure.” They went back to the temple, secured ten of their own guards, and then marched out to Joseph’s tomb with these ten Jewish guards and ten Roman soldiers, even on this Sabbath morning, to set them as watchmen before the tomb. These men rolled yet another stone before the tomb and set the seal of Pilate on and around these stones, lest they be disturbed without their knowledge.

Because of yet another incident in which lives were lost and riots broke out due to Pilate’s ineptitude and deception, Pilate was ordered to return to Rome. On the way there Tiberius, the emperor, died. And Pilate was not re-appointed to Judea.

Pontius Pilate never fully recovered from the regretful condemnation of having consented to the crucifixion of Jesus. The new emperor did not view him positively, so, he retired to the province of Lausanne, where he subsequently committed suicide.