I was fourteen years old when I first lied to my parents. It was actually the only time I was ever untruthful with them. I’d just come home from a party at a friend’s house that I hadn’t told them about, and I made up a story to cover my tracks. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I definitely and sadly remember the moment. It may sound like trivial teenage stuff, but the truth is I’d crossed a line I should have never even approached. And just like every other major event in my life, good or bad, I can recall in vivid detail when and where I was when it happened. The specifics that mark those crucial intersections in our lives get indelibly written on our souls like signposts that either point to mistakes we’ve made that need to be revisited in repentance and avoided going forward or to milestones of achievement we can build on as we advance into the future.
And I think my story may help illustrate one of the lessons to be found in John 19:12-16. Rendered speechless and unnerved by the authority-filled words his bruised, bleeding, but unbroken prisoner uttered in the previous verse, it describes the resulting, desperate determination of Pilate to find a way to release Jesus. But in the end, it also records how the governor surrendered to the forceful, full-throated demands for crucifixion from the Jewish leaders and their inflamed mob.
Even though Pilate attempted to dissuade them by revisiting the possibility Jesus might be some kind of Jewish king after all, the crowd rejected his proposal and turned it against him with a veiled threat to report him if he didn’t comply with their demands. The Jews reminded him that his job required an unwavering loyalty to Caesar. And ultimately, blinded by their feverish bloodlust, they prevailed against Pilate by emphatically declaring their own allegiance to the Roman empire.
It’s shocking to consider how the near-blasphemous statement, “We have no king but Caesar,” could have ever passed the lips of the chief priests. They were the spiritual leaders of a nation chafing under Roman rule. And they were also the ones who presided over a system of worship focused with expectancy on the coming of Messiah, the one Isaiah prophesied (9:7) would sit “upon the throne of David and over his kingdom.”
So how could they do this? Sadly, I don’t think we need to look any further than our own track record for the answer. How many times have we rejected the rule of King Jesus to give ourselves permission to say or do whatever satisfied our desires in the moment? The ability to self-authorize sinful behavior is a well-developed human skill.
And I believe that’s why the passage provides such a surprising number of precise details about this infamous moment. It says that Pilate was sitting on the judgment seat at a specific time on a specific day at a specific location. And just to make sure there could be no confusion regarding where it took place, it even gives us its Hebrew name.
Information in the Biblical record is never superfluous. And I think John supplied these particulars to forever document this as a tragic turning point. It should serve to caution all of us regarding how easy it is to ignore the conviction of the Spirit, how deceived we can become when we do, and how far we can fall as a result. So, let’s determine to allow this signpost to lead us away from that trap and toward a deeper fidelity to Jesus instead.