Poor man wants to be rich man. Rich man wants to be king. And king ain’t satisfied until he’s ruling everything. (“Badlands”, Bruce Springsteen)
That’s how Bruce Springsteen described the inevitable desire to dominate all life that fallen man is subject to. Dr Seuss portrayed a similar thing for primary school children in his fable, “Yertle the Turtle”. Or George Orwell’s ‘Animal Farm’ does the same thing, when in its last scene it shows the pigs and the humans together, around the table in the farmer’s house, indistinguishable from one another. Or in the final movie of the ‘The Hunger Games’ series, it is shown in the heroine, Katniss Everdene, at the end of the movie shooting the new president instead of Snow, because she saw that after the success of their uprising, the new president's plan to reinstitute the Hunger Games on the capital was simply a perpetuation of the same vile and terrorist means of population control that the old regime had used. Again, they looked around at the dining table in the house of the farmer, and could not distinguish the pigs from the humans.
But while such a lesson as that outlined above comes to us in popular slogans, childish parables, or fantasy films, it does describe realpolitik, the reality of the tendency toward totalitarianism that human power is ever subject to. We have witnessed these things in the last 100 years: Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot, and Mao Tse Tung. It never goes away. Oppression of one human over another is an ever present and recurring danger. Long before Springsteen wrote his lines, Ecclesiastes observed:
5:8If you see the oppression of the poor, and the violent taking away [good] judgment and justice in a province, do not be amazed at the thing. For a higher official watches over another, and there are higher officials still. 5:9Moreover the profit of the earth is for all. The king himself is served by the field. 5:10He that loves silver will not be satisfied with silver, nor is he that loves abundance satisfied with increase. This also is vapour.
We rightly have developed from our common and universal experience a deep seated distrust of people in power. It is summarized by the slogan, “Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
That’s why western democracies over the centuries have developed the separation of powers, the executive from the judicial, the judicial from the legislative. That is why we have in western society the inefficient and annoying principles of accountability and oversight. That is why we have ‘constitutional monarchy’, which inevitably has led to our kings and queens and heads of state being stripped of any real power. When most of us think of British or Danish royalty, we tend to think of the Women’s Weekly, a royal wedding, a little hand waving our from under a yellow hat carried along by a Rolls Royce, and inoffensive apolitical speeches from Her Majesty at Christmas time.
When we think of royalty, we don’t nowadays think of an absolute Monarch with supreme unfettered power. Kings and Queens no longer have that sort of power in most places in the world, and certainly not in developed western socieities. Those intelligent and wise Kings and Queens—those who still have a dynasty that bears their name and which has not disappeared from the face of the earth—gave up that sort of power many generations ago. They did so because history had taught their populaces that very few kings or people in power ever actually put themselves before their nation. In fact, this is why Queen Elizabeth II is so admired—because for over 70 years she has proven herself faithful with the great privileges but limited power which tradition and birth have been bestowed on her.
But we have learnt that “Power corrupts and absolutely power corrupts absolutely.” So no matter how nice and lovely and regal Queen Elizabeth II is, no matter how amazing we think she personally is, we are in no way going to give absolute monarchy back to her family. For she is almost a hundred, and has a son, who may be made of different stuff. We much prefer a prime minister and parliament that we can get rid of every three or four years if they are incompetent or corrupted. But if we are stuck with a hereditary monarchy, a king or queen with absolute power, we are stuck with them and all their foibles and corruptibility into perpetuity.
When I was a teenager, my cricket coach suspected I was a bit of a socialist, which I was. (Incidentally, a wise man once told me, “If someone under 30 is not a socialist, they have no heart. If someone over 30 is still a socialist, they have no brains.”) Anyway, my junior cricket coach said to me, “the best form of government is a ‘benevolent dictatorship’.” And he was right. A benevolent dictatorship has the stability of monarchy, but the welfare of the people is guaranteed by the dictator’s character.
Unfortunately, in our world, a ‘benevolent dictatorship’ is a contradiction in terms. Such benevolence of a dictator is impossible in our current fallen world, because we would never be able to find a benevolent one, and even if we were, giving him or her the power would ensure that they would no longer be ‘benevolent’! “Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely”.
But in Jesus, we have a king who has absolute power, but is incorruptible, untouchable, and completely devoted to our welfare. He is not limited by the same things that human kings are limited by—their moral limitations, their susceptibility to corruption and selfishness, their ego-centric lust for power—because he had all that and more, and gave it up to suffer and die for us. Though in very nature God, he did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant. Jesus has the track record. He has the runs on the board. Jesus is pure, holy, without sin, untouchable, incorruptible, without stain, wrinkle, weakness, blemish. And still, he is fully human. And yet, neither is Jesus limited by the cognitive limitations to which mortal humans are subject, their lack of wisdom or knowledge. In Jesus, who is God the Son, we have a king who is omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent—with all the knowledge and wisdom of God himself, because that is who he is—but who has devoted himself to self-sacrificially serving his people.
We take up the story on the night before Jesus. Jesus has just finished praying in a garden that he and his disciples so often frequented (vv. 1-2). Then, out of the darkness comes the betrayer, the man of darkness who is empowered by darkness. Judas is leading a detachment of soldiers, along with a few officials from the religious leadership. They are well equipped and well armed. It’s clear that they came expecting a fight, and one that they were not going to lose for lack of equipment or backup (v. 3).
They came with weapons as to a terrorist to make war against a man whose only crimes were that he told the truth, that he raised his dead friend Lazarus to life, and he ensured that suffering people would be whole again, recreating them on the day of recreation, the Sabbath.
Throughout John’s Gospel, we have seen that Jesus is in charge, as he follows his Father’s direction and commands. And no less here—Jesus shows that he is truly the king in everything that transpires. For he will be labelled ‘king’—the king of the Jews—by Pilate, undoubtedly on the information of Jesus’ accusers, and the irony is, while they don’t believe it, it’s true!
Jesus was fully aware of everything that was coming upon him (v. 4). And rather than wait inside the garden, which would put his disciples at risk, he goes out to the armed detatchment. Jesus stands with dignity, the dignity of a king, in front of them, waiting for them. He treats them with respect, but is not overawed. He is direct and to the point. He wants them to reveal their ‘mission’, and their ‘target’, and to name their man. Verse 4:
18:4So Jesus, because he knew everything which was coming upon him, went out and said to them, “Who are you looking for?”
Jesus goes out to them, and asks this question, because that way he can prevent any harm coming to his disciples. He has just reported to the Father about his success in keeping his charge, that none of those given to him has perished except Judas the son of perdition (John 17:12, cf. 6:39). So Jesus is not going to lose any disciples now, either. His goal and mission is so close to completion.
This concern that he has for his disciples is again demonstrated in verses 8 to 9:
18:8Jesus answered, “I said to you that I am. So if you are looking for me, let these people go” 18:9(that the word which he spoke be fulfilled, “I have not lost one of those who you have given me”).
Jesus is seeking to protect and guard his disciples. For he is a servant, and just as he washed their feet, so now he goes out to the troops and identifies himself, to care and protect them. He is the good shepherd, who lays down his life for his sheep. The hired hand runs away, but not the one whose sheep they are. He goes out to meet the wolves, outside the sheep pen.
But Jesus is not only a servant. He is also a king. He is the ‘Servant King’. It is obvious that Jesus is a king because of the arresting party’s reaction to him. They treat him like a king when they come into his presence. For when the fully armed and well equipped military detatchment are deployed to find Jesus to arrest him, what do they do? Verses 4 to 6 tell us:
18:4 [Jesus] went out and said to them, “Who are you looking for?” 18:5They answered him, “Jesus the Nazarene”. He said to them, “I am”. And Judas, the one who betrayed him, was also standing with them. 18:6So when he said to them, “I am”, they drew back and fell to the ground.
A previous arresting party could not do it because “nobody had ever spoken like this man”, because it was not yet his time. This detatchment sent to arrest will do it, since it is the will of the Father, but not before they treat Jesus properly, as king. Notice first what Jesus said to them. He said “I am”—the same phrase at which the Jews earlier picked up stones to stone him. Yes, this can be a simple phrase of ‘self-identification’. But from the lips of Jesus in John’s Gospel, it is more. John frequently uses irony to make his point, and here is the irony—that when Jesus identifies himself as the target of the armed mob, he identifies that they are looking for the great “I am” of Exodus 3:14. And at that word, they must bow before the majesty of the one who “is who he is”, the independent, self-describing God.
So it is not surprising that the well armed soldiers and officials “draw back and fell to the ground”. Because that is what you do in the presence of God himself. No one can stand in his presence—and particularly if they seek to challenge him. For God is the great and mighty king, inexpressibly more powerful than any human king. And even though Jesus is about to be arrested and executed, the truth of who he is cannot but come out and colour the incident. And here, John records for us that at the time when Jesus looks least like a king—unarmed, unprotected, outgunned, and surrounded by an angry and hostile mob—that the unexpected happened. His pursuers bowed themselves to the ground, forced to do homage to the unarmed Jesus. And the reason is that they were face to face with God the King.
This is a little picture of the reality that will be on the last day, for “At the name of Jesus, every knee will bow. Every tongue confess him, king of glory now.” They outnumber Jesus perhaps at 50 to 1, and they come to arrest him, yet they cannot but fall to the ground, bowing in homage to God incarnate, the true king of the created order.
Jesus is eventually taken by his worshipping arresters to the high priest. There he will be subjected to an interrogation about his disciples and his teaching. But it seems that Jesus turns the tables on the high priest, and conducts his own interrogation. Notice his answer in verses 20 and 21:
18:20Jesus answered him, “I have spoken openly to the world. I always taught in synagogue and the temple, where all the Jews came together, and I said nothing in secret. 18:21Why do you ask me? Ask those who heard what I said to them. Look, these people know what I said.”
Jesus is not overawed. He is God and king. And Jesus points out some facts. He had conducted a public ministry, not done in a corner, but in plain sight. “My cards have always been on the table. What you saw is what you got.” And so Jesus will let others speak for him. But his question to the high priest still stands: “Why do you ask me?” And of course, we as readers know the answer, because we know what the high priest Caiaphas said in chapter 11 verse 50:
11:50Don’t you think that it is better for you that one man die for the people and the whole nation not perish?” (cf. 18:14)
The reason for this sham proceeding, this ‘kangaroo court’, is to make their murderous conspiracy and assassination ‘legal’. For Annas already knows the verdict that he and his cronies will reach, and he is looking for a way to make the condemnation stick. But before Jesus says anything else, or before Annas considers answering this question, ‘Wack!’ Jesus is stuck across the face with a heavy blow by one of the officials. Verse 22:
18:22Now while he was saying these things, one of the attendants standing there hit Jesus, saying, “Is this the way you answer the high priest?”
When the official slaps Jesus in the face, he is slapping the very one who created him. The Old Testament talked about the Davidic King, the Messiah, the Son of God, shattering the kings of the earth, saying—“You kings be wise. Be warned, you rulers of the earth. Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the Son, lest he be angry with you, and you be destroyed in his way, for his wrath can flare up in a moment” (Psalm 2). And that is Jesus.
But what king Jesus do when he is struck? Did he exercise his Psalm 2 prerogatives and power? Did Jesus turn to him and declare, “You are going to regret the day you laid hands on me? You’ve struck the King of Kings”. That is not how Jesus acts. For Jesus has come this first time, not to condemn the world, but to save the world. What he does is recounted in verse 23:
18:23Jesus answered him, “If I spoke evilly, testify about that evil: but if I spoke well, why did you hit me?”
Jesus here gives us the example of how to apply his own maxim, “Turn the other cheek”. For here is Jesus being wrongfully struck. Notice that he doesn’t say to the official, “Why don’t you hit me again?”, nor does he literally offer the other cheek. But Jesus doesn’t pay back. Though Jesus could call ten thousand angels, and just by a word end the official’s life in a millisecond, and cast him into an eternal hell, he doesn’t. Instead, he holds the man accountable by asking a reasonable question. Tell me what I did wrong, for you to slap me. But if I spoke truthfully, and courteously, why did you slap me?
Turning the other cheek doesn’t mean consenting to the wrongdoing, nor does it mean not complaining of injustice, but it does mean not using your strength to pay back there and then. We can’t punch, and kick, and bite, and hit, and pull hair, and scratch, and swear at them, and call them names—even though part of you might want to, and we might have the power to do it.
Jesus shows us how to cope with being wrongfully slapped. And then, he is bundled off to Caiaphas for further interrogation (vv. 24, 28). John doesn’t record for us any of these proceedings. But he does record the confrontation between Jesus and Pilate.
Pontius Pilate was the Roman Prefect of the province of Judea from AD 26-36. Pilate was his last name, not his job description! He didn’t fly a plane, nor did he found a movement of doing yoga-like core strengthening exercises. He was a ruler and politician. He would have faded away into obscurity as just another bloody and dictatorial Roman governor, but for the events of this day. When the Roman procurator of Judea and Jerusalem was woken early in the morning by the troublesome local religious leaders, little did he know that his historical legacy unto the ending of the world would that day be determined. For his name is recited weekly by billions around the globe for the last two thousand of year—“Who suffered under Pontius Pilate”—another irony in this whole upside down, world altering historical event.
Pilate was a bodily manifestation of the power of Rome to the Jews. Humanly speaking, Jesus’ fate ultimately rested with this man. He had the power of Jesus’ life and death in his hands! Or did he? Is he really the determiner of what is going on this day?
Pilate first of all makes enquiries of the Jewish deputation that brings Jesus to him (vv. 29-32). He condescends to come out to them, given their scruples about ritual defilement if they went into his praetorium. He attends to them, even though he is the governor with the military power, and it is early in the morning, before ‘business hours’. But ‘a stitch in time saves nine’, and these Jews are troublesome. So it is worth it to keep the pax Romana. And when he asks the quite reasonable question of the religious leadership, “What charge do you bring against this man?” (v. 29), they say “If he were not doing evil, we wouldn’t have handed him over to you” (v. 30).
How wonderful! What a money saving observation! I’m sure the Attorney General’s departments around Australia would love to hear of this fantastic discovery. This reasoning from the Jewish leaders would of course make all judicial proceedings unnecessary. We could just trust any prosecutor that their case against the accused is made out. Anyone with a complaint against someone should be upheld as aggrieved. After all, they wouldn’t be bringing the matter to court unless the person was guilty, would they?
We know that is rubbish, and that people bring unjust prosecutions against others more frequently than we would like to admit. And so does Pilate. So Pilate’s first attempt is to send the matter back down to the lower courts. Verse 31:
18:31Then Pilate said to them, “You take him and judge him according to your law”.
And that’s fair enough. The Jews had quite a bit of autonomy under Roman rule. Pilate wants them to go away and sort it out. They could have conducted a trial and used their limited but significant powers. But then the Jews reveal the real reason why they have involved Pilate the Roman governor early on that morning. Verses 31 and 32:
18:31 […] The Jews said to him, “It is unlawful for us to put anyone to death”, 18:32that the word of Jesus might be fulfilled which he had spoken signifying what kind of death he was going to die.
We know as readers of John’s Gospel that this strategum is all about killing off the difficult Jesus of Nazareth. And the reason the Jewish leaders involve Pilate is because they want Jesus dead, and only the Romans had the power of execution. But the reason for the involvement of the Romans from God’s point of view is because God wants Jesus not just to be killed, not just to be executed, but to be ‘crucified’. The method of execution is relevant. For the Old Testament had talked about how someone lifted up and impaled on a tree was under God’s curse (Deut 21:23; cf. Gal 3:13), and also that the Davidic Messiah and suffering servant would have his hands and feet ‘pierced’ (Psalm 22:16; cf. Zech 12:10 and John 19:37; Isaiah 53:5).
So Pilate goes back into the Praetorium and called Jesus to him. Presumably, that was so he could interrogate Jesus without the Jews hovering around. Because of their scruples and fear of uncleanness, the Jewish leaders won’t follow him in, and Pilate can speak with Jesus without their interference—and perhaps get to the bottom of this affair.
But if Pilate thought he had gentle Jesus meek and mild to deal with, he had another thing coming. For while Pilate intends to interrogate Jesus, Jesus will do a bit of interrogation of his own. When questioned by Pilate, Jesus questions him back. Jesus engages in dialogue with Pilate. Verses 33 to 35:
18:33So Pilate again went into the Praetorium, and he called Jesus and said to him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” 18:34Jesus answered, “Do you say this from yourself, or have others spoken to you about me?” 18:35Pilate answered, “I’m not a Jew, am I? Your nation and the high priests handed you over to me. What did you do?”
Pilate’s first question is whether Jesus is king of the Jews. Jesus doesn’t answer the question directly, but asks whether this is Pilate’s idea, or whether he is speaking on behalf of the Jewish leadership. Jesus’ question seems to be for the benefit of Pilate. That is, has Pilate developed this category of ‘the king of the Jews’ from his own studies and understanding of the Jewish nation he rules over, or is he simply repeating the Jewish language and accusations. And Pilate’s answer suggests that at the moment he is reflecting the charges of the Jewish leadership.
The question about whether Jesus is ‘the king of the Jews’ goes to the very heart of Roman interests as the occupying power. Does Pilate have a seditious rebel here? Is Jesus threatening the peace and stability of his occupation.
From the perspective of the Romans, the Jews were not easy to rule. And Pilate is a political realist. He would undoubtedly agree with Caiaphas that it is better that one man die to maintain the Pax Romana. Non-Christian histories portray him as an insensitive, and at times a viscious and cruel ruler. Both before and after this event, Pilate demonstrated that he would have no compunctions in having one person killed if it meant he got what he wanted done. In the end it is his love of peace and the status quo, and therefore his fear of the restless crowd, that will be the decisive factor. But he will want to sit on the fence for as long as possible.
Pilate’s final question is “What did you do?” Why do the Jewish leaders hate you so much? And this question, Jesus doesn’t answer. At least, John doesn’t record Jesus’ answer to Pilate for us. But John has already recorded Jesus’ response to Annas, reminding the high priest that his own teaching ministry was public (vv. 20-21).
But Jesus chooses to answer the first question—whether he is king of the Jews—and not the second question—what did he do. And Jesus then makes it plain that he is ‘the king of the Jews’, but he is not a king like Caesar in Rome. Verse 36:
18:36Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my attendants would fight so that I would not have been handed over by the Jews. But now my kingdom is not from here.”
Jesus’ kingdom is from another place—it is a heavenly kingdom. It originates from heaven, not from earth. It has a heavenly modus operandi, and not an earthly one. This is the reason why Jesus’ disciples are not zealots, or revolutionaries. Jesus’ kingdom is rightly called ‘the kingdom of heaven’—because of its origin, its ethos, its king, and its eternity. And while Jesus is truly the king of this world and the heir of all things, you can’t get a map of the world out and say that ‘this country’ belongs to Jesus’ kingdom, but ‘that country’ doesn’t. It all belongs to Jesus, and he will receive it all, but sadly, there is still a ruler of this world, the devil, and his usurpation of this world has not yet been finally overthrown. Jesus Christ has not entered into the rule of all of his inheritance and patrimony yet. If Jesus’ kingdom was of this world, then what was happening to Jesus would not have taken place.
Jesus’ kingdom is not a matter of clubs, swords, and weapons. Jesus has the ‘sword of his mouth’, and when he exercises it, that’s all he needs. But the Messiah that Jesus turned out to be was undoubtedly a different understanding of the Messiah than that which the Jews had. Their great hope was a military ruler who followed the pattern of David. They longed for a great heroic king who fought their battles for them with swords, chariots, and armies—and slingshots and pebbles, if that worked. King David was a man of war and a man of blood who knew how to wield a sword and who had slain his tens of thousands.
Jesus is a king, but he is a servant king. He did not come to condemn the world, but to save it. And that means he came as the lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, as the one man who dies on behalf of the people. And that means he doesn’t want or need swords.
No Swords Necessary (vv. 10-11)
So when Peter pulled out his sword and struck the slave of the high priest, not only did he miss his mark, but he also missed the point of Jesus’ coming and kingship. Verse 10:
18:10So Simon Peter, who had a sword, drew it and struck the servant of the high priest and cut off his right ear. (And the name of the servant was Malchus.)
Peter was a fisherman, not a soldier. Swordsmanship is a real skill and art, as anyone who has watched ‘Star Wars’, or ‘the Princess Bride’, knows. Fencing is an Olympic sport for a reason. Handling a sword takes skill and practice. So Peter was either a really good swordsman, or a really bad one. He was either aiming to take off Malchus’ ear, and succeeded, or to take off his head, and missed. I suspect it was the latter.
Now, John is the only Gospel writer to record that the perpetrator of this violence was Simon Peter, and the victim was Malchus. For John is the insider’s Gospel. He tells us what was going on behind the scenes.
But John doesn’t record several aspects of this incident that the other Gospel writers do in fact tell us (Matt 26:51-54; Mark 14:47-48; Luke 22:49-53). Matthew’s distinct contribution to this incident in chapter 26 is to tell us that Jesus said the famous words, “For all who take the sword will perish by the sword” (v. 52), and to record Jesus’ reminder that he could appeal to the Father who would send him more than twelve legions of angels (v. 53). Luke 22 records that the disciples asked him whether they should strike with swords (v. 49)—obviously Peter didn’t wait long enough to hear Jesus’ answer!— that it was Malchus’ right ear that was severed (v. 50), and importantly, that Jesus answered, “No more of this!” and he touched the man’s ear and healed him (v. 51).
Perhaps it is most interesting to us that only Luke records Jesus’ actual healing of Malchus. The silence of Matthew, Mark, and John about this leaves their readers wondering whether Malchus went on for the rest of his life without a right ear! Thankfully, Luke spoke about that! Perhaps John’s failure to mention the healing of the ear is his way of emphasizing the humanity and fallibility of Peter—John doesn’t show Jesus bailing Peter out by healing the man. Perhaps John felt he Peter had already been given a good run by not recording the aftermath of Peter’s rebuke of Jesus at Caesarea Phillipi!
John records Jesus saying the following after Peter’s violent act, in verse 11:
18:11So Jesus said to Peter, “Put the sword back in its sheath. Shall I not drink the cup which the Father has given me?”
‘Drinking the cup’ is a way of talking about receiving a painful judgement, like we would say, ‘taking your medicine’. Jesus is going to drink his ‘castor oil’, a repellant, disgusting, sickening draught, right down to the dregs. That is what Jesus’ death is—a dreadful, awful drink.
When God punishes his enemies, it is sometimes described as God pouring out “the cup of his wrath” or making his enemies “drunk” with suffering (e.g. Jer 25:15; Rev 14:10, 16:19). So in Jeremiah 25:15, 17-18, we read:
15This is what the LORD, the God of Israel, said to me: “Take from my hand this cup filled with the wine of my wrath and make all the nations to whom I send you drink it.” […] 17 So I took the cup from the LORD’s hand and made all the nations to whom he sent me drink it: 18 Jerusalem and the towns of Judah, its kings and officials, to make them a ruin and an object of horror and scorn and cursing, as they are today. (NIV)
It is a devastating image, so horrific that you would want to run and hide, if you knew it was coming. Jesus is saying the anger of God is against this world is about to be poured out The cup is titling over the world, and the world deserves it, but as the cup is about to be poured out on the world, Jesus takes the cup of judgment from his Father and now he is about to drink it himself, right down to the dregs. Verse 11 again, “Shall I not drink the cup the Father has given me?” Instead of this king pouring out this cup on others who deserve it, he is drinking it himself. For as Caiaphas said, “it would be good if one man died for the people” (John 18:14).
Elsewhere, John makes it clear that Jesus in his death is offering the Father a ‘propitiation’ or sacrifice that turns aside God’s wrath against us and our sin (1 John 2:2, 4:10). The symbolism is that we have God’s wrath hanging over us (e.g. John 3:36) but Jesus takes that wrath in our place, to both remove our sin, and also to take God’s wrath away from us. The image of ‘drinking the cup’ shows the horrible pain for Jesus of going to his death in this way as one ‘accursed of God’ (Cf. John 19:31; Deuteronomy 21:22-23 commanded that the body of an executed criminal hung on a tree should not remain overnight but be buried the same day, and that person is cursed by God).
Christianity did not begin with the sword, and it is not spread by the sword. Jesus is not like King David or Mohammad, both of whom were warriors and wielded the sword and killed men. Christianity follows a man whose modus operandi is “put that sword away”. Yes, Christianity has a place for ‘just war’. Yes, Christianity does allow men and women to bear arms and use lethal force in certain limited circumstances—notably, to protect the vulnerable from injustice and to punish the wrongdoer. The Christian position is not strict pacifism. Neverthless, ‘putting the sword away’ is the usual and default position for the Christian. Those who live by the sword will die by the sword is a general proverbial proposition of universal application. Violence does generally beget violence. The cycle of revenge is not stopped by violence, but perpetuated by it.
Jesus will die for his cause, but he will not kill for it. Notice that if Jesus isn’t protecting his own He is protecting his enemies. Jesus is saying, “I have come from my Father in heaven to do his will, which is not to crucify the enemy, but allow the enemy to crucify me. It’s not to punish the enemy, but to take the punishment for the enemy.
Pilate was a military and political operator who needed to survive in a hostile world. They say that the first casualty in war is the truth. But that is the very reason Jesus came into the world. So it is fitting that if truth is the casualty, so is “the Way, the Truth, and the Life”. Verse 37:
18:37So Pilate said to him, “Aren’t you a king, then?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born and for this I have come into the world, so that I might testify to the truth. All those who are of the truth listen to my voice.”
Jesus comes into a world in which everyone wants to decide for themselves what is the truth. But Jesus comes bearing the message, “Truth is a person, not just an idea”. There is only one Jesus, the only begotten of the Father, God from God, light from light, true God from true God. He as God incarnate is the incarnation of truth.
And here again is Jesus, in all his innocent honesty, speaking the truth to a hardened butcher of a man used to governing with sword and fist. And confronted with the guileless honesty of Christ, his cynicism comes out.
18:38Pilate said to him, “What is truth?” And having said this, he again went out to the Jews and said to them, “I find no cause against him.
Notice, Pilate is not asking, “What is the truth?” What is the truth about this matter at hand? Are you really the king of the Jews? He asks, “What is truth?” It is a question whether there is any such thing as truth itself. Is truth a meaningful category anymore? Does it really matter what is true? It only matters what works!
It is the question of the hardened cynic, someone so used to doing what is politically expedient and militarily necessary, that he cannot recognize truth from lies anymore. The truth incarnate is standing in front of him, but for this calloused man, he no longer trades in the currency of ‘truth’. It is what is necessary, what cements Roman power, what keeps the status quo, what maintains peace and safety for himself and his troops, what is politically expedient, what will allow him personally to survive as he lurches from one political or military crisis to another. What will preserve his life a little longer from the unforgiving Caesar to whom he reports or the unruly rabble he has been sent to quell? That is Pilate’s interest. ‘Truth’ is a luxury Pilate cannot afford. ‘Truth’ is not relevant to those pursuits.
No, who Jesus is is ultimately irrelevant. The man in front of Pilate could be God himself, innocent as a lamb, white as the driven snow—the very lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world—and it wouldn’t change Pilate’s mind. The political realities do not allow for any consideration to be given to irrelevancies and distractions and red herrings like ‘truth’. Verses 38 to chapter 9 verse 1:
18:38Pilate said to him, “What is truth?” And having said this, he again went out to the Jews and said to them, “I find no cause against him. 18:39Now it is your custom that I release for you someone at Passover time. So do you want me to release for you the king of the Jews?” 18:40Again they cried out saying, “Not this man but Barabbas.” Now Barabbas was a robber. 19:1So then Pilate took Jesus and flogged him.
Pilate bows to the anger and unruliness of the crowd to the level of having Jesus tortured by the Roman scourge, perhaps hoping that a good flogging will satisfy them, and that perhaps then he can release Jesus, not unharmed, but alive. He gives the crowd the option of Jesus or the robber Barabbas, in the hope that their appreciation of the stark alternative will secure Jesus’ life. But because his desire is to placate the Jewish leadership—to give the Jews what they want, not what is true, just, or good (there’s no such thing for Pilate, for when one turfs out God, morality and ethics becomes politics and power), such an attitude will never save Jesus. Jesus will and must die. The squeaky wheel will get its grease.
Jesus has been isolated, betrayed, arrested, and examined, but he is still alive. He has been slapped once, but apart from that, and some rough handling, he is uninjured. That is about to change. At the end of this chapter, he is intact. By the end of the next chapter, he has been horribly tortured to death in humiliation, and his bloodied corpse has been laid in the tomb.
We are confronted at the end of chapter 19 by the issue of ‘truth’. Pilate’s hardened cynism has called into question the very existence of ‘truth’ being a meaningful way to think about life. Jesus, in all his wonderful and divine innocence, is much more optimistic about ‘truth’. Not only is there such a thing as ‘truth’—thank God for that!—but truth is available—Jesus testifies to it, and everyone on the side of truth listens to him. Truth is not just a principle but a person. Truth has become embodied and humanized, hypostasized and incarnated. In contrast to the caloused cynism of all the political operatives working in these events—not just Pilate but the Jewish religious leaders also, (for Pilate in his contempt and distaste for his impossible political position has only just expressed what the others think—that raw political ‘power’ is the real ‘truth’), Jesus not only speaks the truth, but he is the truth. The truth is standing in front of them, knowing that they hate the truth, and love the darkness rather than the light, and that this is all his Father’s will.
This passage gives us some responses—not all of them recommended—that we can make to the truth who is Jesus.
Judas sold the truth for money. ‘Truth’ for him was the coins in his pocket. Peter denied the truth three times. At that point, in his misguided zeal, he became disloyal. In his fear, he betrayed his core commitment to Christ. He said “I don’t know him”, of the one to whom he swore undying loyalty. The high priests were operating out of jealousy and what they saw as political neccesity. They wanted themselves, their religion, their power, their temple and their nation, to survive. And they were prepared to cut some corners in pursuing this. The end justified the means. And Pilate has become cynical. He almost seems tired out by the hypocrisy, bored by the playacting he engaged in, about seeking for justice and truth as a judge, and calloused by the continual brutalities he had engaged in to survive. He knew that Jesus was innocent—that there was no cause against him—but the political expedience and brutality by which he had thus far survived and governed the ungovernable seems almost wearisome to him. “What is truth?” And so he acquiesces to the crowd, who exchanged the embodied and incarnate truth for a robber, Barabbas.
Who are you in this account? None of them realized that the truth would set them free. Ask yourself, which one is me? Am I Pilate, the cynic, so hardened by my sins that I don’t even believe there is such a thing as ‘truth’ anymore? I can no longer see the truth for what it is, even if it wakes me up early in the morning to get my attention, stands before me, looks me in the face, and conducts a reasonable conversation with me? Am I the Jewish leaders, so desperate to maintain their nation and place and power that I sacrifice the truth? Am I Judas, wanting the more tactile and concrete ‘truth’ of money in my pocket, rather than a God who promises to provide through suffering? Am I Peter, who talks a big game, and sure, does better than the rest, but when push comes to shove, finds himself making things worse and turns himself into a hypocrite by giving way to fear and cowardice? Am I like the crowd, manipulated by the leaders to ask for a terrorist instead of the truth?
Dear Father of the Lord Jesus Christ,
I thank you, Father, for sending your Son, who is the truth, and spoke the truth, and revealed the truth. The truth is that I am a sinner deserving punishment. I confess the truth that Jesus is “the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords”. So I submit to you, Lord Jesus Christ. I confess the truth that you are the “I am” to whom I fall down before in worship, the servant king whose kingdom is from another place, heaven, who drank the cup of judgment that my sins deserve, as well as the sins of the whole world. So I trust you, Jesus, that you are the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world, and that you have brought the complete forgiveness of my sins. Help me by your Spirit—the Spirit of truth—to live by this truth and no other.
Amen.
My Translation
18:1Having said these things, Jesus went out with his disciples across the Kidron valley, where there was a garden, into which he and his disciples entered.
18:2Now Judas, the one who betrayed him, also knew about the same place, because Jesus had met there with his disciples many times. 18:3So Judas took a cohort of Roman soldiers and attendants from the high priests and Pharisees, and came there with torches, lanterns, and weapons.
18:4So Jesus, because he knew everything which was coming upon him, went out and said to them, “Who are you looking for?” 18:5They answered him, “Jesus the Nazarene”. He said to them, “I am”. And Judas, the one who betrayed him, was also standing with them. 18:6So when he said to them, “I am”, they drew back and fell to the ground. 18:7So again he asked them, “Who are you looking for?” And they said, “Jesus the Nazarene.” 18:8Jesus answered, “I said to you that I am. So if you are looking for me, let these people go” 18:9(that the word which he spoke be fulfilled, “I have not lost one of those who you have given me”).
18:10So Simon Peter, who had a sword, drew it and struck the servant of the high priest and cut off his right ear. (And the name of the servant was Malchus.) 18:11So Jesus said to Peter, “Put the sword back in its sheath. Shall I not drink the cup which the Father has given me?”
18:12So the cohort and the tribune and the attendants of the Jews arrested Jesus and bound him 18:13and brought him first to Annas, for he was the father-in-law of Caiaphas, who was high priest that year.
18:14Now Caiaphas was the one who advised the Jews that it is better for one man to die for the people.
18:15Now Simon Peter and another disciple were following Jesus. And that disciple was known to the high priest, and he went in with Jesus into the courtyard of the high priest, 18:16but Peter stood outside at the door. So the other disciple, who was known to the high priest, went out and spoke to the doorkeeper, and brought Peter in.
18:17So the servant girl who was the doorkeeper said to Peter, “You also aren’t one of the disciples of this man, are you?” He said, “I am not”. 18:18Now the servants and the attendants were standing there having made a fire of coals—for it was cold—and they were warming themselves. And Peter was also standing with them, warming himself.
18:19Then the high priest asked Jesus about his disciples and about his teaching. 18:20Jesus answered him, “I have spoken openly to the world. I always taught in synagogue[s] and in the temple, where all the Jews came together, and I said nothing in secret. 18:21Why do you ask me? Ask those who heard what I said to them. Look, these people know what I said.”
18:22Now while he was saying these things, one of the attendants standing there gave Jesus a slap, saying, “Is this the way you answer the high priest?” 18:23Jesus answered him, “If I spoke evilly, testify about that evil: but if I spoke well, why did you hit me?”
18:24Then Annas sent him bound to Caiaphas the high priest.
18:25Now Simon Peter was standing and warming himself. So they said to him, “You aren’t also one of his disciples, are you?” He denied it and said, “I am not.” 18:26One of the servants of the high priest, who was a relative of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, said, “I saw you with him in the garden, didn’t I?” 18:27So again Peter denied it, and immediately a rooster crowed.
18:28Then they brought Jesus from Caiaphas to the Praetorium. Now it was early, and they had not entered the Praetorium so that they would not become unclean but might eat the Passover. 18:29So Pilate came out to them and said, “What charge do you bring against this man?” 18:30They answered and said to him, “If he were not doing evil, we wouldn’t have handed him over to you.” 18:31Then Pilate said to them, “You take him and judge him according to your law”. The Jews said to him, “It is unlawful for us to put anyone to death”, 18:32that the word of Jesus might be fulfilled which he had spoken signifying what kind of death he was going to die.
18:33So Pilate again went into the Praetorium, and he called Jesus and said to him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” 18:34Jesus answered, “Do you say this from yourself, or have others spoken to you about me?” 18:35Pilate answered, “I’m not a Jew, am I? Your nation and the high priests handed you over to me. What did you do?”
18:36Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my attendants would fight so that I would not have been handed over by the Jews. But now my kingdom is not from here.”
18:37So Pilate said to him, “Aren’t you a king, then?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a King. For this I was born and for this I have come into the world, so that I might testify to the truth. All those who are of the truth listen to my voice.” 18:38Pilate said to him, “What is truth?” And having said this, he again went out to the Jews and said to them, “I find no cause against him. 18:39Now it is your custom that I release for you someone at Passover time. So do you want me to release for you the king of the Jews?”
18:40Again they cried out saying, “Not this man but Barabbas.” Now Barabbas was a robber.
In verse 6, ὑπηρέτης (John 7:32, 45, 46, 18:3, 12, 18, 22, 36, 19:6), properly denoted a subordinate rower or under-rower, but came to mean someone who served with his hands, and was particularly used of officers of the king and magistrates who executed penalties, performed security and police functions, and attended in the retinue, the attendants at the synagogues, or anyone who works as an assistant or aids another. It is also used in Matthew 5:25, 26:58, Mark 14:54, 65, Luke 1:2, 4:20, Acts 5:22, 26, 13:5, 26:16, 1 Cor 4:1.
In verse 6, the idiom ‘ἀπῆλθον εἰς τὰ ὀπίσω’ is rendered ‘they drew back’.
In verse 9, the phrase picks up the teaching of Jesus in John 6:39 and 17:12.
In verse 14, John brings to mind what he has narrated at 11:50.
Verse 32, with John 12:33 and 21:19, all discuss the kind of death that Jesus was going to die.