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“Doing….Or Not” Sherry Lohman - November 22, 2009 John 18:33-37 Even though we have a little over a month remaining before we begin the new year, our Christian calendar marks today as the Last Sunday after Pentecost, and the last Sunday in the Christian Year. We recognize this day as “Christ the King,” Sunday. It is one of those transitional Sundays, leading directly to Advent and the beginning of our new Christian year. Our scripture, from John may throw you off a little. It may seem strange to be reading about a story of Jesus, late in his life, when the very next Sunday, we begin preparing for his birth. But we go full circle, which means, there’s a new beginning, there is an end preceding it, in this life, anyhow, so that throughout the year, we take a glimpse of the full realm of Jesus’ life. Today, we wrestle with that character, Pilate—the guy who plays a large role in the life and death of Jesus. I guess we could say that it is Pilate who is wrestling with Jesus. Pilate is the Roman governor; the one who gives the final word. You may remember, this is not the first, but Pilate’s second encounter with Jesus at the headquarters where Jesus is being held, after his arrest. Pilate is returning for another conversation with Jesus---as if he is trying to get things sorted through, in his own mind about what he should do with Jesus. And so, he summons Jesus (isn’t that interesting….he calls upon Jesus, with pointed questions, no less), but with the intent of getting down to the knitty-gritty: “Are you the King of the Jews?” He asks, and “What have you done that your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me?” And then again, he makes a statement in the form of a question: “So, you are a king?” I get the sense he really wants to know, but unfortunately, for Pilate, Jesus doesn’t respond exactly as Pilate had hoped. That’s not unlike Jesus, is it? We know that about Jesus. We may ask, (or sometimes, demand) answers to situations we don’t understand, waiting for the right answer; the one that ties in neatly with our own preconceived ideas of what the answer should be. And if we don’t get the answer we hope for, we may try to phrase the question another way or manipulate the answers to suit ourselves. But there’s a problem, here---a huge problem. After wrestling awhile with Jesus, Pilate finds Jesus innocent—he tells the chief priests that Jesus has done no wrong. In other words, it’s no longer Jesus’ problem, but Pilate’s…. what to do – or not, with Jesus. Jesus’ life is in Pilate’s hands. You think Pilate didn’t lose some sleep over this? And so he presses. It’s possible, in the eyes of the religious Jews that Jesus was taking on more than he could chew in making certain claims that stood outside the boundaries of their beliefs, like working on the Sabbath. But Pilate wasn’t interested in those issues. I don’t normally quote long passages from others, but the theologian, Fredrick Buechner writes so well about this character, Pilate, that I would like to share a large chunk of it with you. Concerning Pilate, he writes, “In fact, as a sophisticated Roman, religion in general was not his cup of tea, and he’d been quite frank about it to Jesus himself during their interview. When Jesus told him he’d come to bear witness to the truth, Pilate’s reply was “What is truth?” Truth was for people who had time to worry about truth. Pilate was a busy man.” There’s another indication that Pilate carried deep concerns about Jesus, especially now that his life was in Pilate’s hands. Again, from Buechner, “Pilate’s wife begged him “to have nothing to do with that righteous man” (Mt 27:19), and, sophisticated or not sophisticated, that gave him pause. A woman’s intuition was not something you sneezed at, especially if you happened to be married to her. In the third place, his main job as a colonial administrator was to keep peace in the colonies at any price, and the last thing he wanted to do was to stir up a hornet’s nest by making a martyr out of some local hero. Nevertheless, when it became clear that he would stir up an even nastier hornet’s nest by setting the man free, and when, in addition to that, the Jews pointed out that no true friend of Caesar’s would ever be soft on a man who had set himself up as a king to rival Caesar, Pilate prudently gave in to the pressures and said to go ahead and crucify him if that’s what they had their hearts set on. To make it perfectly clear that he wanted no part in the dirty business, however, he said, “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” and as a dramatic gesture that not even the dullest colonial clod among them could fail to understand, stepped out in front of the crowd and went through a ritual hand-washing in a basin of water he’d had them fill especially for that purpose (Mt 27:24). And in a sense he was right. Insofar as he’d done all he reasonably could to save the man—even offering to let them crucify Barabbas instead if it was just a show they were after—he was, in a manner of speaking, innocent. The crucifixion took place against his advice and better judgment. In this connection, you can’t help thinking about that other famous hand-washer, Lady Macbeth. Unlike Pilate, Lady Macbeth had commited murder herself, and what she kept trying to wash away in her sleep, long after her hands themselves were clean as a whistle, was her tormenting sense of guilt over the terrible thing she had done. She never succeeded, of course, but God is merciful, and one can hope that in the long run he did the job for her. Pilate’s case is different and worse. For him, it was not so much the terrible thing he’d done as the wonderful thing he’d proved incapable of doing. He could have stuck to his guns and resisted the pressure and told the chief priests to go to Hell, where they were obviously heading anyway. He could have spared the man’s life. Or if that is asking too much, he could have spared him at least the scourging and catcalls and the appalling way he died. Or if that is still asking too much, he could have spoken some word of comfort when there was nobody else in the world with either the chance or the courage to speak it. He could have shaken his hand. He could have said goodbye. He could have made some two-bit gesture which, even though it would have made no ultimate difference, to him (Jesus, and maybe even to Pilate) (slohman) would have made all the difference. But he didn’t do it, he didn’t do it, and on that basis alone you can almost believe the sad old legend is true that again and again his body rises to the surface of a mountain lake and goes through the motion of washing its hand as he tries to cleanse himself not of something he’d done, for which God could forgive him, but of something he might have done but hadn’t, for which he could never forgive himself. (Mt 27:15-26)” Maybe that’s another part of truth we could measure our lives by; one that isn’t so easily recognized, at least, publicly. It’s that truth within us that we wrestle with, when we know we could have done more. Clearly, we can point to all the ways we have made a difference in the world, but knowing we could have made a difference by some small gesture, and didn’t, calls us to a greater accountability; a greater truth. What we do, or don’t do matters. Our goals, our way of living, all have to do with what we believe and the truths we live by; how we take care of others, especially the poor and neglected./ Our founder, John Wesley, claimed that there was no holiness without social holiness. How is it we think about God in relation to others? What we believe and who we worship, matters. There’s a character in one of James Michener’s novels who claims, “I’d be a different man if I worshipped a different God.” That’s a line that might make us sit up and wonder. It may make us consider all that we have left undone, mismanaged or neglected. Who is the God you worship and how does that God call you to come to terms with truth in your own life? Do you have a heart for wrestling? Maybe your words and actions urge you in one direction, but your heart pounds out another truth. Are you consumed by a magnetic draw to deal with the truths that come before you? And how will you exercise the power to choose the next action you will take? We know the impact Pilate’s indecision had on Jesus’ life. Pilate knew, in his heart, what he could not deliver, even holding the power as Governor over Jesus’ life or death. But power, as evidenced here, does not equate with truth, justice or law. We know that. Just look around at the injustices our world struggles with currently. There is an imbalance. We are created equal, but clearly, there’s an imbalance. The power that Pilate tried to abandon on a whim, freeing him from any associated guilt with the death of Jesus was the same power that bound him in turmoil. It brings to mind the words, “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” Pilate, in all of his power, was not free. The Apostle Paul speaks to that in the book of Romans, about the truth written on our hearts, to which our own conscience also bears witness; and how our conflicting thoughts will accuse or perhaps excuse them…” (Rom. 2:15). It can go either way, depending upon whether or not we have the power, the courage to summon Jesus, our king and our model….listen to his voice and prepare to hear the truth that will guide us into living, not in a simple, carefree way, but with eyes, ears and heart wide open. You want easy? Pilate did, too. There is no “easy.” What there is, though, is joy and freedom, sitting next to truth in this journey. And that joy comes, in knowing you have done all that you can. Doing, or not. It’s a choice and a chance for joy, for truth, for humble service, and an opportunity to rub elbows with royalty. Amen. |