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.³⁰ Upon the claim of Jesus to the royal dignity in the white robe (the costume of Roman candidates), must follow His crowning in a purple robe of state, and the homage belonging thereto, as it was usually practised in earnest, and still more often in jest.³¹ With this purpose they led Him into the hall of the prætorium, and called together thither all their comrades, the whole company. First of all the crowning was set about. The soldiers plaited a crown of thorns,³² and placed it on His head. They knew not that Jesus had now become king of patience in the great and holy kingdom of undeserved suffering, which is converted by God’s righteousness and faithfulness into the kingdom of glory. Then came the investiture. They stripped Him, which probably means they took from Him His upper garment. Although they they had stripped Him also before the scourging, yet it was part of the ceremony that He should be first of all invested again with an upper garment, and formally divested of it. But probably it was the very white robe from the house of Herod which they first threw over His naked shoulders, and immediately again took off, in order perfectly to represent the ironical coronation. Then they adorned Him in their manner with the princely purple cloak, for which, according to Matthew, a plain pallium must have served—a war-cloak, such as princes, generals, and soldiers wore, dyed with purple: probably, therefore, a cast-off red robe of state out of the prætorian wardrobe.³³ Hereupon they gave Him the sceptre, a reed-staff,³⁴ pressed into His right hand. According to Matthew, the hand seems to have grasped the staff. But John omits this point; whence, perhaps, it may be concluded that the staff did not remain in His hand. It is here hard to say what the pure passivity of the Holy One did in this case. But if we suppose that the hands of Jesus were bound, it is manifest that the staff might rest for a time in His hand without His holding it. Upon the clothing, the mocking homage occurred—bowings of the knee, and greetings, as they generally were: ‘Greeting (Hail to Thee), King of the Jews!’

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

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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.

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,
Greeks, and especially the Achæans,' but it was only used for the lowest criminals, and especially slaves. Among the Hebrews also, there was practised the hanging of an outlawed person on the tree (Deut. xxi. 22, 23 ; Joseph, viii. 29, ch. x. 26 ; 2 Sam. xxi. 9). But in this case the putting to death generally preceded the sus pension ; and this was done to those who were condemned, for blasphemy or for idolatry, by stoning. Sepp, iii. 532. In substance, the public exposure on the tree was, among the Hebrews, an original token of cursing and destruction ; thence the symbol of the brazen serpent, and the references of Jesus, John iii. 14, xii. 32.

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
a participation in the trial, moreover, according to the principle of publicity, was free also to the dependants of Jesus ; and among them some might determine to be
present at the trial, at the cost of the keeping the Passover, more easily than most of the Jews. Thus the question of Strauss is answered, Whence had the Evangelists knowledge of the trial going on in the inside of the praetorian?

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
saying of the Evangelist be more mischievously misunderstood ?

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
criminals often gave up the ghost during its execution. Further, scourging was also applied without the consequent punishment of death, either to bring delinquents to some sort of confession, or to punish them for a crime. The latter kind of scourging was what Pilate allowed to be inflicted on Jesus. It was not inferior in cruelty to the former, although its severity depended wholly on the will of the magistrates.'—Friedlieb, 114. On the difference between the Jewish and Roman scourging, see Sepp, iii. 510.

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
Aduexus, tergum dedit, ut servile, flagellis.'—ED.]

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
explained by saying, that the two names of purple and coccus are often interchanged because of their similarity, but rather, perhaps, from the circumstance, that these Evangelists already have in view in the expression the symbolical purpose of the robe.

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.