Moral coward or practical operator?

Now it was the governor’s custom at the festival to release a prisoner chosen by the crowd. ¹⁶ At that time they had a well-known prisoner whose name was Jesus Barabbas. ¹⁷ So when the crowd had gathered, Pilate asked them, “Which one do you want me to release to you: Jesus Barabbas, or Jesus who is called the Messiah?” For he knew it was out of self-interest that they had handed Jesus over to him.

¹⁹ While Pilate was sitting on the judge’s seat, his wife sent him this message: “Don’t have anything to do with that innocent man, for I have suffered a great deal today in a dream because of him.”

²⁰ But the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowd to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus executed. ²¹ “Which of the two do you want me to release to you?” asked the governor. “Barabbas,” they answered. ²² “What shall I do, then, with Jesus who is called the Messiah?” Pilate asked. They all answered, “Crucify him!” ²³ “Why? What crime has he committed?” asked Pilate. But they shouted all the louder, “Crucify him!”

²⁴ When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” he said. “It is your responsibility!” ²⁵ All the people answered, “His blood is on us and on our children!”

²⁶ Then he released Barabbas to them. But he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified.

An interesting man, Pontius Pilate.

For many of us he probably falls not far short of Judas Iscariot in the scales of villainy, as he was the man who “had Jesus flogged” (why that particular gratuitous act of cruelty?) and “handed over to be crucified”.

We also get a nasty glimpse of the kind of ruler he was from Luke13:1-5: apparently some time earlier he had “mixed the blood of some Galilean worshippers with their sacrifices”, which, presumably, means that he had sent his soldiers in to hack down a group of innocent Jewish pilgrims in the city of Jerusalem. This kind of vicious brutality is borne out by other ancient writers outside the Bible.

Pilate was the Roman governor in Judea, and he had the admittedly tricky job of keeping a lid on a potentially explosive situation in the city. This was all the more so because it was the time of the Jewish Passover, when Jerusalem would be heaving with religious hot-heads and fanatics. It was more than his life was worth to let the lid blow off with riots and mayhem and so bring the authorities, his bosses, galloping down from Rome. He will have had sleepless nights as the Passover approached, not least because of this man everybody was talking about, Jesus of Nazareth.

If we read all four Gospel accounts it seems clear that Pilate’s desire to set Jesus free was genuine, though his personal motives are certainly open to question. Luke records an attempt on his part to offload Jesus onto the Jewish leader Herod Antipas in the hope that he would sort him out – only to have him sent right back: too hot to handle (Luke 23:1-17).

What can we, in our very different and very mundane lives, learn from Pontius Pilate?

First, knowing what’s right to do is no use if we don’t get on and do it.

That sounds obvious, but it is by no means always simple - especially when we are answerable to somebody in a superior position who can make life very unpleasant for us if we don’t do as we are told.

A political leader in Britain some years ago resigned from his position on the grounds that it was impossible to maintain his integrity and his Christian principles, because of what was expected of him, and the lies he felt he was obliged to tell. All credit to him, I thought – better that than to be a hypocrite. But also, how very sad that the state of our politics is such that he felt it to be necessary. Far be it from me to accuse such a person of moral cowardice, but it’s hard not to put oneself in his place and wonder about oneself.

No wonder the New Testament tells us to pray for those who govern us (1 Timothy 2:1-2 explicitly and Romans 13 by implication). Nothing is easier than to criticise politicians – it’s a lazy game we all love to play -but, according to the New Testament, prayer should come first. A word to all of us who lead groups or worship services? Do we regularly pray in the context of public worship for those who have the massively weighty responsibility of leading us?

I don’t mean to make excuses for either Pontius Pilate or for modern leaders, but… how we all need God’s help to save us from shallowness and to gift us with strong moral courage!

Second, even genuine attempts to do what’s right are no use if they’re not followed through.

Yes, Pilate genuinely tried to palm Jesus off onto Herod Antipas for him to deal with. Yes, he genuinely pleaded with the crowd to accept his bargain offer to put Barabbas to death in order to release Jesus. Yes, the whole mood of his behaviour suggests that he was genuinely convinced of Jesus’ innocence. But what was the good of that? – he still ended up putting an innocent man to death.

Is there some situation in your life or mine where we are “taking the line of least resistance”? – where we are we “keeping our heads down” when we should be “putting them above the parapet” at whatever the cost? (It’s interesting how this kind of situation throws up these metaphors! – all designed to make us feel a bit better about “bottling out”. Shame on us!)

Third, gestures count for nothing.

Pilate is famous for his gesture of taking water, washing his hands, and declaring “I am innocent of this man’s blood”. Very impressive! But it’s hard not to hear a voice from heaven saying “Oh no you’re not!” God alone knows the hearts of each one of us, and he alone will adjudicate guilt and innocence. We may seek to fob our responsibility off, to salve our troubled consciences. We may decide to do something which is more than a mere gesture – make a donation, perhaps, to a good cause.

But the failure remains, the injustice is done. Wonderfully, God may turn it to ultimate good (the supreme example of that, of course, is the cross itself); but it can never be undone. Wonderfully, he will forgive us if we are sincerely penitent; but the scar remains and the pain lingers.

Failing to do what is right… I’m not thinking here only of the gross failings of someone like Pontius Pilate. Not at all. But I have to confess that just putting these thoughts down has caused me great discomfort, to put it mildly.

Oh, the petty sins, the embarrassing compromises, the cheap, pathetic opting outs! Lord, have mercy on us all!

Lord, it’s easy for us to condemn corrupt people in positions of power, but we recognise too our own sinful weaknesses and compromises. Please give us a holy hatred for sin and a true hunger and thirst for righteousness, whatever the cost may be. Amen.