Monday, July 29, 2019

Pilate, Juror #7, and Me

I read Luke, chapter 23, for my quiet time this morning. There, Luke narrates Jesus' arrest, kangaroo trial, crucifixion, and death. (His resurrection comes in the next chapter.)

I was particularly struck today by the spinelessness of Pilate, the Roman governor who ended up giving the order to have Jesus crucified.

Three times, Pilate told the crowds crying for Jesus' death that he found the accused innocent of any crime. (Herod, the puppet king of Judea, agreed.)

"I have found in [Jesus] no grounds for the death penalty [Pilate says]. Therefore I will have him punished and then release him.” (Luke 23:22)

This is a strange thing for a man who claims to have the final say over the lives and destinies of a region, backed by the world's most powerful empire, to say: "He's not guilty. But since you don't like him, I'll rough him up and send him on his way." In a supposed show of strength, as is true of all thugs and would-be thugs in such circumstances, he lets everyone see what a wimp he truly is.

Like most people who think of themselves as powerful, confident, and self-sufficient, Pilate likes giving the appearance of power, confidence, and self-sufficiency without actually possessing these characteristic. When the comfort of such people is threatened, they will opt for their comfort for themselves. They'll brag while dispatching others to do their wimp-rooted dirty work.

And so, despite the facts, Pilate orders Jesus' crucifixion.

As I read about Pilate today, I couldn't help thinking of the character, Juror #7, played by Jack Warden in the classic jury room drama, Twelve Angry Men. The jury deliberates its verdict in a capital trial involving a defendant, a young man who is a member of an unidentified minority group. Juror #7, who apparently sees himself as a tough, no-nonsense guy, is anxious to get on with things because he has tickets to a baseball game. Initially, he insists on the defendant's guilt, until some begin raising doubts about the prosecution's case. (I also love George Voskovec's performance here.)



Pilate had had enough and so he caved in to "the room," sending Jesus off to His death.

Of course, Pilate was playing into God's hand: God the Father sent God the Son expressly into the world to become the sinless sacrifice--the spotless "Lamb of God"--for sinners like me, His atoning sacrifice making it possible for all who renounce sin and trust in Jesus as their God and Savior to have new, eternal life with God.

But Pilate didn't understand all that. He was Juror #7, weak at the knees over bucking the crowd and hellbent on using the tickets he had for whatever pleasure beckoned to him at that moment.

Pilate was like the priest and Levite in Jesus' parable of the Good Samaritan, who, for whatever reason, didn't take the time to address a matter of life and death, justice and injustice for another human being, seriously.

"Tough guys" too busy to care. How often are we those guys or those women? Lord, have mercy, I confess to being Pilate or Juror #7. I confess to too often being so caught up in my own agenda and my own pursuit of pleasure to love You with my whole being and to love my neighbor as much as I love myself.

God, forgive me the indifference with which I view the lives of others. Out of the Christian compassion Your Holy Spirit makes possible for believers in Jesus, help me to share the saving good news of Jesus with someone who may need it today. Out of  this same compassion, help me to show compassion for the victims of indifference and injustice today. Help me today to live as the loving person that Your grace in Christ has set me free to be! In Jesus' name I pray. Amen

[I'm the pastor of Living Water Lutheran Church in Centerville, Ohio.]


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