"Clash Of The Titans - What Is Truth?"
John 18:33-37
Sunday, November 26, 2006
The Reverend Dr. Deborah K. Meinke
America’s mid-term elections are receding in our
collective rear view mirrors. The national political tables seem
to have turned, with Republicans now licking their wounds and
scrambling for new footing, and Democrats thumping their chests and
anticipating renewed clout in government. The political pundits
are still chewing over the significance of victories and defeats,
plucking from each vote tally a small truth to be woven into a larger
truth tapestry. So, the prognosticators are peering ahead through the
shadows toward the 2008 presidential election, which candidates to
watch, who will rise and who will go down in flames in the long
campaign. Pilate’s question “What is truth?” floats tantalizingly
before us as we scan a war-weary political landscape.
We inhabit politically polarized times, when we are
both weary of negative campaigning and mesmerized by the drama and hype
that creates winners and losers. So, it is wonderfully ironic
that the lectionary passage from the gospel of John this week features
Christ as King, leading us to expect a clash of titans like a World
Wrestling Federation championship bout. John’s multi-scene
drama of Pontius Pilate’s interrogation of Jesus in his praetorium,
where he mocks both Jesus and the Jewish leaders, makes it clear that
the ‘trial’ before Pilate manifested a political not a strictly
religious crisis. Jesus’ trial is quite the opposite of any trial
that we recognize from 21st century America, for Pilate is judge and
jury all rolled into one, and his sentence of execution by the Roman
method of crucifixion shows this clash is between two rival powers, two
kingdoms (of Rome or of God), and the demand of allegiance that is
demanded from the main actors as well as the spectators.
Our democratic ears are not so tuned to all the political overtones of
kings and empires, yet we also must choose whom we will serve.
Pontius Pilate is the hinge upon which the passion
of Jesus pivots. A close reading of the gospels reveals that he is the
central figure; yet, many Christian legends paint him as a puppet
manipulated into sentencing Jesus to death. The 4th century
Christian historian Eusebius perpetuated this bias, and wrote that
Pilate, “wearied with misfortunes,” committed suicide about 4 years
after Jesus’ execution. Most recently, Mel Gibson in his movie
“Passion of the Christ” portrayed a weak Pontius Pilate bullied by the
Jewish priests into executing an innocent man.
Before we follow the showdown between Pilate and
Jesus, let’s take a few moments to review what we know of Pilate and
his career. Pilate, of all the notorious characters in Jesus’
life and passion, receives star billing in the Apostle’s Creed, which
proclaims that Jesus ‘suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified,
died, and was buried…’ The Roman emperor Tiberius appointed
Pilate as prefect (governor) over Judea in the year 26 A.D., a post
that he held until year 37. Judea already had a centuries long
reputation for unrest, intrigue, stubborn resistance, and outright
rebellion. Pilate was sent to rule with an iron fist over the Roman
military, the economy, the courts, and even the Jewish Temple (its
treasury was skimmed to build an aqueduct), as well as his peasant
subjects. He might get rich in this boiling cauldron, but as an
enforcer of imperial order, he could easily get burned. The
Jewish historian Philo of Alexandria, writing during and after Jesus’
lifetime (20 BC - 40 AD) describes Pilate as a ruthless, calculating,
vengeful, and brutal man. He alone wielded the power to execute,
and crucifixion was strategically used to make an example of subversive
threats to the state. Rather than an indecisive weakling, Pilate
emerges as a masterful ‘shuttle diplomat,’ calculating the crowd
support for Jesus as ‘king of the Jews’ and cleverly mocking his Jewish
allies by drawing forth from them the ultimate blasphemy for Jews, the
claim that their only lord is Caesar (John 19:15).
Pilate perceives himself as the controlling force in
exposing Jesus through the so-called trial. His exchanges with Jesus
allow him to pretend that he is above the fray of power politics while
drawing Jesus into an admission of guilt - “I am not a Jew, am I?”
“What have you done?” “So you are a king?” and “What is truth?” Through
John’s dramatic dialogue, the listener comes to understand that Jesus’
questions and answers move both Pilate and the readers to a decision,
to stand for or against Jesus, which is another way of saying for or
against God and God’s kingdom. When Jesus says that his kingdom
is ‘not of this world,’ he is insisting that the power politics of
conventional kingship is illegitimate in God’s eyes and does not apply
to him. Jesus contrasts the behavior of his followers compared to
the fighters of kings. Note that the word our Bible translates as
‘followers’ or ‘servants’ is the same word that elsewhere in John is
translated as police, as in the Roman or Jewish temple police, those
who enforce law and order.
Pilate’s final question in this dialogue “what is
truth?” is enigmatic and open to various interpretations. He
seems interested in the ‘what,’ he would like to regard truth as an
abstract, philosophical concept that somehow floats outside the real,
material world. But Jesus focuses our attention on how truth is
relative, that is, truth is connected to God’s desires for justice and
freedom and love in the world. If truth is relative in this way,
then Jesus statement ‘everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my
voice’ shows that the proof of truth is in the relationships that it
sustains, and the claims of truth are deeply connected to action.
Truth is power, and Pilate and Jesus disagree about what kind of
power. Pilate holds the hammer of power as superior force, and
Jesus demonstrates the power of love chosen and acted out that
ultimately triumphs over force.
It may seem strange that we have come back around to
Jesus’ passion on this opposite side of the calendar from the Easter
season. We are ending the current church year today with Christ
the King Sunday, awash in bright white lights and rich gold fabric,
symbols of glory and triumph and, by all accounts, royal power.
Next week we begin a new year, cycling into Advent, our watching and
waiting time for Christ’s second coming as well as our preparation for
the poor baby’s birth in a cold manger. Unlike Easter, the
earliest celebration of the church, or even Christmas a few centuries
later, a festival for Christ as King was begun by Pope Pius XI in
1925. The horrors of the Great War in Europe were a live memory,
Europe was in a chaos of inflation and social turmoil, the seeds of the
coming war and holocaust were germinating in this decade. The
Pope declared Christ as King to be celebrated in opposition to all the
world leaders and the accelerating political evils of his
time. A decade later, the standard and battle cry “Jesus is
Lord” (not Caesar!) was picked up by German Protestants trying to
reclaim the church from its entanglements with the Nazi state.
The Theological Declaration of Barmen, part of our Presbyterian Book of
Confessions, makes clear our allegiance to Jesus Christ alone as
Lord/King/Emperor of our lives, and subsequently, many Protestants also
observe this final Sunday as Christ the King.
Yet we still must ask what kind of king is
Jesus? Different Christians give different answers. The
recently released documentary film “Jesus Camp” shows young, preteen
Christians practicing alarming, militaristic techniques for the
Christian takeover of the world, a triumphant ‘evangelism’ that
twists Christ the King back into a triumphant, forceful
superhero. Much of the biblical muscle behind this movement comes
from the book of Revelation. Indeed, our reading from Revelation (Rev.
1: 4-8) declares Christ ruler of all kings of the earth. Yet, all
through Revelation amid all the fiery judgment imagery, Jesus stands as
slain Lamb, Jesus comes with the sword out of his mouth, not wielded
with his arm to slay the enemies of God. Christ the King Sunday
then is an ironic witness, we see Jesus transforming the office of
king, and gathering us to be a ‘kingdom of priests,’ that is, servants
and sacrificers and speakers of truth. “This is ‘Christ the King
under arrest and begin interrogated’ Sunday. It is Christ the
King being held hostage Sunday. It is Christ the royal political
prisoner Sunday. It is Christ the King soon to be beaten and
crucified Sunday. It is Christ the innocent victim Sunday.
It is not Christ the powerful King Sunday. It is not Christ the
mighty warrior Sunday. It is not Christ the King as Lawgiver and
dispenser of punishment Sunday. It is Christ the King, whose
kingdom is not of this world, Sunday.”
Barbara Brown Taylor tells of attending a retreat
where the leader asked them to think of someone who represented Christ
in their life. She recounts this answer from a woman who said, “I
had to think hard about that one. I kept thinking, ‘Who is it who
told me the truth about myself so clearly that I wanted to kill him for
it?’ The light of Christ exposes all of us equally, and we
are brought to decide - will we fall down and worship him or will we do
everything in our power to kill him again?
In our own times of crisis and decision, what are we
called to do? Christ the King gives witness through his
conversation with Pilate on how he is king. Jesus is aware that
all earthly powerbrokers rely on armies to enforce their authority, yet
God has chosen weakness and love to inaugurate his rule of the
world. We are to remain non-violent in action while speaking out
in resistance, that is, telling the truth. As Christ brings into
the light all the dark injustices of the world, so we are also to
expose and to be exposed in the light of Christ. We are to do those
things that Jesus did throughout his life – love one another, love our
enemies, feed the poor, clothe the naked, heal the sick, visit those in
prison. In such ways, we declare our allegiance to Christ as King
and our Lord. Amen.