A Mob, Jesus, and the Truth

The mob roiled like stormy waters as it pressed against the stone steps outside the seat of government. Its instigators were defenders of tradition and religion. They were bloodthirsty, willing to cross any moral boundary and ally with any power, secular or sacred, to get their way.  

Christ Before Pilate by Mihály Munkácsy (1881)

Christ Before Pilate by Mihály Munkácsy (1881)

Up the steps, through the columns, in the inner chamber, a decision was being made that would change history forever.

In that chamber a Roman governor named Pontius Pilate was face to face with a Jewish Rabbi, Jesus of Nazareth. The religious leaders conducting the mob outside had charged Jesus with blasphemy for claiming to be the Messiah, a crime they deemed punishable by death. Pilate, hesitant to rubber-stamp this mob justice, attempted to reconcile the anger outside with this plain, calm man before him.

“Are you the king of the Jews?” Pilate asked.

Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But my kingdom is from another place.”

“You are a king, then!” said Pilate.

Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. In fact, the reason I was born and came into this world was to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.”

“What is truth?” retorted Pilate.  

Over the past week I have pondered this conversation between Jesus and Pilate, recorded in the 18th chapter of the Gospel of John. Most know what happens next: Pilate eventually bends to the will of the mob, and Jesus is sentenced to death by crucifixion—the common sentence for criminals and insurrectionists, handed down often by this hardened pagan leader remembered in history only for his career-preserving condemnation of Jesus.    

It seems that in the past weeks, many—including many who claim the name of Jesus—have forgotten the meaning of what Jesus said to Pilate.

First, Jesus’ kingdom is not of this world. He does not need his servants to fight a battle for him. His dominion does not grow or shrink by way of Electoral Colleges, Presidents, or legal victories. It cannot, and will not, be defended or advanced by violence or alliances with power. His Kingdom’s flag is not the stars and stripes, but the banner of his own supreme name waved to beckon all nations (Isaiah 11:10). His kingdom grows through hearts transformed by his the gospel through the power of his Spirit.

Second, Jesus told Pilate that his entire mission was to “testify to the truth” and that “everyone on the side of truth listens to me.” Christians should be people who stand not on the right, or on the left, but on the side of truth. That’s where Jesus is. But instead, Christians have clung to a political tribe and been willing to believe just about any lie, and deny just about any fact, to stay there.  

Pilate was cynical about the possibility of truth. I fear that our culture is becoming the same way—and Christians, not secular liberals, are the leading cause. If the world around us sees Christians as peddlers of conspiracy theories, rumors and debunked claims, who will believe us when we try to tell them that Jesus “suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried, and on the third day rose again”?