Friday, June 13, 2025

Pontius Pilate. . . who was he?

What a curious thing!  The creed proclaims the name not of patriarch or prophet but of the Roman Governor of Palestine.  Indeed, it might have been the Pontius Pilatus might never have been mentioned in history at all except for the creeds of Christendom.  He seems a rather large figure -- at least when viewed in relation to the death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ -- but was in reality a rather small one.  We know his name more than we know the man.  Should we know more?

The story of Pilate was not quite the romantic tale of a poor man who made good.  He was born into privilege.  His career began with the status of equestrian (perhaps knight?).  For about forty years beginning 27 B.C. or so, Caesar Augustus saw the value of cultivating loyalty and embedding Roman values into the sons of those born free, with good character, and, of course, some money.  These would become suitable junior officers in war, would have opportunity to prove themselves as administrators, and become the back bench to greater imperial service.  Probably Pilate made some good friends among those well positioned in Rome and had a knack for advancement.  It is said he ended up prefect of Judaea upon recommendation of Lucius Aelius Sejanus, friend of the Emperor Tiberius.

It seems that Sejanus was well known for his antisemitic views and Pilate likely learned something from that.  One of Pilate’s most notorious acts to offend his subjects was to erecting images of the emperor all over the holy city of Jerusalem under darkness. Both Flavius Josephus and Philo both write about this and the reactions of the people of Jerusalem:

Hastening after Pilate to Caesarea, the Jews implored him to remove the standards from Jerusalem and to uphold the laws of their ancestors. When Pilate refused, they fell prostrate around his palace and for five whole days and nights remained motionless in that position.

In the face of the threat to be cut down by Pilate's troops, the Jews did not back down but insisted that they would rather die than violate their sacred law.

Thereupon the Jews, as by concerted action, flung themselves in a body on the ground, extended their necks, and exclaimed that they were ready rather to die than to transgress the law.  Overcome with astonishment at such intense religious zeal, Pilate gave orders for the immediate removal of the standards from Jerusalem.

The Pilate who rose to a position of some power by reading the signs around him backed down.  Perhaps this same learning curve was responsible for his own curiosity about Jesus, desire to engage Him in conversation, and the hesitance of his wife's own vision was enough to make him appear weak. Pilate had enough sense to know that the Jews had no real charges against Jesus except envy and jealousy.  He perceived that Jesus was innocent and thought having Jesus scourged might placate the crowd.  But when faced again with the unbending will of a people threatening revolt, Pilate bent.  But even Pilate would not accept responsibility for this murder:  “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.”  He would, however, not be above mocking those who presented Jesus for death by putting a sign above Jesus, in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, to let people know who Jesus was.  Curious about Jesus' death so soon (crucifixions were not designed to bring death on without a long period of suffering), Pilate sent word to Tiberius the reports of Jesus' resurrection.

What might have been a remarkable end with Pilate actually confessing Christ was not to be.  Though there is mythology about the conversion or saint among the Ethiopian Orthodox, Josephus tells us of a different conclusion. Historians say he continued a brutal reign until, in A.D. 36, the Samaritans on Mount Gerizim, and had to return to Rome to stand trial. Eusebius writes that Pilate eventually committed suicide (though there are disputes about this).

The creed confesses his name to mark the period in time in which the events of our salvation were wrought and not to honor him in any way.  In this confession, we are attesting to the factual character of the events we proclaim and acknowledging the sources, outside the New Testament, that report the same story of Jesus' suffering, death, and resurrection.  Pilate becomes the placeholder in time instead of some large figure.

1 comment:

John Flanagan said...

As interesting as Pilate’s reign is historically, and as recorded in the New Testament, one might also wonder about the his wife, Claudia Procula, a Jew who converted to Christianity, as the Bible alludes and notable historians claim. And since she is venerated by the Eastern Orthodox Church as a saint, there are implications and questions surrounding her influence on Pilate. We cannot speculate that Pilate was eventually saved, for that would be a stretch, and in this idea history is silent. However, I believe a Christian wife can influence an unsaved husband over time, but this again, does not mean conversion is or is not likely. But would it surprise us if Pilate was drawn by God, his wife being the instrument, and saved prior to his death? Since God’s thoughts are not our thoughts, His methods sovereign, His elect counted among the unexpected in life, I cannot help but wonder. Soli Deo Gloria