Edersheim - Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah - Chap 14
THE MORNING OF GOOD FRIDAY.
CHAPTER XIV
(St. Matt. xxvii. 1, 2, 11-14; St. Mark xv. i-5; St. Luke xxiii. 1-5; St. John
xviii. 28-38; St. Luke xxiii. 6-12; St. Matt. xxvii. 3-10; St. Matt. xxvii.
15-18; St. Mark St. Matt. xxvii. 20-31;; St. Mark xv. 11-20; St. Luke xxiii.
18-25; St. John St. Matt. xxvii. 20-31; St. Mark xv. 11-20; St. Luke xxiii. 18-25;
St. John xix.1-16.)
The pale grey light had passed into that of early morning, when the
Sanhedrists once more assembled in the Palace of Caiaphas. [1 This is so expressly stated
in St. John xviii. 28, that it is difficult to understand whence the notion
has been derived that the Council assembled in their ordinary council-chamber.] A
comparison with the terms in which they who had formed the gathering of the
previous night are described will convey the impression, that the number of those
present was now increased, and that they who now came belonged to the wisest
and most influential of the Council. It is not unreasonable to suppose, that
some who would not take part in deliberations which were virtually a judicial
murder might, once the resolution was taken, feel in Jewish casuistry absolved from
guilt in advising how the informal sentence might best be carried into effect.
It was this, and not the question of Christ's guilt, which formed the subject
of deliberation on that early morning. The result of it was to 'bind' Jesus and
hand Him over as a malefactor to Pilate, with the resolve, if possible, not to
frame any definite charge; [a St. John xviii. 29, 30.] but, if this became
necessary, to lay all the emphasis on the purely political, not the religious
aspect of the claims of Jesus. [b St. Luke xxiii. 2.] [2 Comp. St. Matt. xxvii. 1
with. xxvi. 59, where the words 'and elders' must be struck out; and St. Mark
xv. 1 with xiv. 55.]
To us it may seem strange, that they who, in the lowest view of it, had
committed so grossly unrighteous, and were now coming on so cruel and bloody a deed,
should have been prevented by religious scruples from entering the
'Praetorium.' And yet the student of Jewish casuistry will understand it; nay, alas,
history and even common observation furnish only too many parallel instances of
unscrupulous scrupulosity and unrighteous conscientiousness. Alike conscience and
religiousness are only moral tendencies natural to man; whither they tend, must
be decided by considerations outside of them: by enlightenment and truth. [1
These are the Urim and Thummim of the 'anima naturaliter Christiana.'] The
'Praetorium,' to which the Jewish leaders, or at least those of them who represented
the leaders, for neither Annas nor Caiaphas seems to have been personally
present, brought the bound Christ, was (as always in the provinces) the quarters
occupied by the Roman Governor. In Caesarea this was the Palace of Herod, and there
St. Paul was afterwards a prisoner. But in Jerusalem there were two such
quarters: the fortress Antonia, and the magnificent Palace of Herod at the
north-western angle of the Upper City. Although it is impossible to speak with
certainty, the balance of probability is entirely in favour of the view that, when
Pilate was in Jerusalem with his wife, he occupied the truly royal abode of Herod,
and not the fortified barracks of Antonia. [2 This is, of course, not the
traditional site, nor yet that which was formerly in favour. But as the Palace of
Herod undoubtedly became (as all royal residences) the property of the State, and
as we have distinct evidence that Roman Procurators resided there, and took
their seat in front of that Palace on a raised pavement to pronounce judgment
(Jos. War ii. 14. 8; comp. Philo, ad Caj. & 38), the inference is obvious, that
Pilate, especially as he was accompanied by his wife, resided there also.] From
the slope at the eastern angle, opposite the Temple-Mount, where the Palace of
Caiaphas stood, up the narrow streets of the Upper City, the melancholy
procession wound to the portals of the grand Palace of Herod. It is recorded, that they
who brought Him would not themselves enter the portals of the Palace, 'that
they might not be defile, but might eat the Passover.'
Few expressions have given rise to more earnest controversy than this. On two
things at least we can speak with certainty. Entrance into a heathen house did
Levitically render impure for that day, that is, till the evening. [3 The
various reasons for this need not here be discussed. As these pages are passing
through the press (for a second edition) my attention has been called to Dr.
Schiirer's brochure ('Ueber Giessen, 1883), intended to controvert the interpretation
of St. John xviii. 28, given in the text. This is not the place to enter on
the subject at length. But I venture to think that, with all his learning, Dr.
Schiirer has not quite met the case, nor fully answered the argument as put by
Kirchner and Wieseler. Putting aside any argument from the supposed later date of
the 'Priest-Codex,' as compared with Deuter., and indeed the purely Biblical
argument, since the question is as to the views entertained in the time of
Christ, Schiirer argues: 1. That the Chagigah was not designated by the term Pesach.
2. That the defilement from entering a heathen house would not have ceased in
the evening (so as to allow them to eat the Passover), but have lasted for
seven days, as being connected with the suspicion that an abortus, i.e. a dead
body, might be buried in the house. On the first point we refer to Note 1 on the
next page, only adding that, with all his ingenuity, Schiirer has not met all the
passages adduced on the other side, and that the view advocated in the text is
that adopted by many Jewish scholars.
The argument on the second point is even more unsatisfactory. The defilement
from entering the Praetorium, which the Sanhedrists dreaded might be, or rather,
in this case must have been, due to other causes than that the house might
contain an abortus or a dead body. And of such many may be conceived, connected
either with the suspected presence of an idol in the house or with contact with
an idolator. It is, indeed, true that Ohol. xviii. 7 refers to the suspicion of
a buried abortus as the cause of regarding the houses of Gentiles as defiled;
but even so, it would be too much to suppose that a bare suspicion of this kind
would make a man unclean for seven days. For this it would have been necessary
that the dead body was actually within the house entered, or that what
contained it had been touched. But there is another and weightier consideration. Ohol.
xviii. 7 is not so indefinite as Dr. Schurer implies. It contains a most
important limitation. In order to make a house thus defiled (from suspicion of an
abortus buried in it), it states that the house must have been inhabited by the
heathen for forty days, and even so the custody of a Jewish servant or maid would
have rendered needless a bediqah, or investigation (to clear the house of
suspicion). Evidently, the Praetorium would not have fallen under the category
contemplated in Ohol. xviii. 7, even if (which we are not prepared to admit) such a
case would have involved a defilement of seven days. Thus Schurer's argument
falls to the ground. Lastly, although the Chagigah could only be brought by the
offerer in person, the Paschal Lamb might be brought for another person, and
then the tebhul yom partake of it. Thus, if the Sanhedrists had been defiled in
the morning they might have eaten the Pascha at night. Dr. Schurer in his
brochure repeatedly appeals to Delitzsch (Zeitschr. f. Luther. Theol. 1874, pp. 1-4);
but there is nothing in the article of that eminent scholar to bear out the
special contention of Schurer, except that he traces the defilement of heathen
houses to the cause in Ohal.xviii.7.Delitzsch concludes his paper by pointing to
this very case in evidence that the N.T. documents date from the first, and not
the second century of our era. first, and not the second century of our era.]
The fact of such defilement is clearly attested both in the New Testament [a
Acts x 28.] and in the Mishnah, though itsreasons might be various. [b Ohol.
xviii. 7; Tohar. vii. 3.] A person who had sobecome Levitically unclean was
technically called Tebhul Yom ('bathed of the day'). The other point is, that, to have
so become 'impure' for the day, would not have disqualified for eating the
Paschal Lamb, since the meal was partaken of after the evening, and when a new day
had begun. In fact, it is distinctly laid down [c Pes. 92 a.] that the 'bathed
of the day,' that is, he who had been impure for the day and had bathed in the
evening, did partake of the Paschal Supper, and an instance is related, [d
Jer. Pes. 36 b, lines 14 and 15 from bottom.] when some soldiers whohad guarded
the gates of Jerusalem 'immersed,' and ate the Paschal Lamb. It follows that
those Sanhedrists could not have abstained from entering the Palace of Pilate
because by so doing they would have been disqualified for the Paschal Supper.
The point is of importance, because many writers have interpreted the
expression 'the Passover' as referring to the Paschal Supper, and have argued that,
according to the Fourth Gospel, our Lord did not on the previous evening partake
of the Paschal Lamb, or else that in this respect the account of the Fourth
Gospel does not accord with that of the Synoptists. But as, for the reason just
stated, it is impossible to refer the expression 'Passover' to the Paschal Supper,
we have only to inquire whether the term is not also applied to other
offerings. And here both the Old Testament [e Deut. xvi. 1-3; 2 Chron. xxxv. 1, 2, 6,
18] and Jewish writings [1 The subject has been so fully discussed in Wieseler,
Beitr., and in Kirchner, Jud. Passahfeier, not to speak of many others, that it
seems needless to enter further on the question. No competent Jewish
archaeologist would care to deny that 'Pesach' may refer to the 'Chagigah,' while the
motive assigned to the Sanhedrists by St. John implies, that in this instance it
must refer to this, and not to the Paschal Lamb.] show, that the term Pesach,
or 'Passover,' was applied not only to the Paschal Lamb, but to all the Passover
sacrifices, especailly to what was called the Chagigah, or festive offering
(from Chag, or Chagag, to bring the festive sacrifice usual at each of the three
Great Feasts).' According to the express rule (Chag. i. 3) the Chagigah was
brought on the first festive Paschal Day. [1 But concession was made to those who
had neglected it on the first day to bring it during the festive week, which in
the Feast of Tabernacles was extended to the Octave, and in that of Weeks
(which lasted only one day) over a whole week (see Chag. 9 a; Jer. Chag. 76 c). The
Chagigah could not, but the Paschal Lamb might be offered by a person on
behalf of another.] It was offered immediately after the morning-service, and eaten
on that day, probably some time before the evening, when, as we shall by-and-by
see, another ceremony claimed public attention. We can therefore quite
understand that, not on the eve of the Passover but on the first Paschal day, the
Sanhedrists would avoid incurring a defilement which, lasting till the evening,
would not only have involved them in the inconvenience of Levitical defilement on
the first festive day, but have actually prevented their offering on that day
the Passover, festive sacrifice, or Chagigah. For, we have these two express
rules: that a person could not in Levitical defilement offer the Chagigah; and
that the Chagigah could not be offered for a person by some one else who took his
place (Jer. Chag. 76 a, lines 16 to 14 from bottom). These considerations and
canons seem decisive as regards the views above expressed. There would have been
no reason to fear 'defilement' on the morning of the Paschal Scrafice; but
entrance into the Praetorium on the morning of the first Passover-day would have
rendered it impossible for them to offer the Chagigah, which is also designated
by the term Pesach.
It may have been about seven in the morning, probably even earlier, [2 Most
commentators suppose it to have been much earlier. I have followed the view of
Keim.] when Pilate went out to those who summoned him to dispense justice. The
question which he addressed to them seems to have startled and disconcerted them.
Their procedure had been private; it was of the very essence of proceedings at
Roman Law that they were in public. Again, the procedure before the
Sanhedrists had been in the form of a criminal investigation, while it was of the essence
of Roman procedure to enter only on definite accusations. [3 Nocens, nisi
accusatus fuerit, condemnari non potest. In regard to the publicity of Roman
procedure, comp. Acts xvi. 19; xvii. 6; xviii. 12; xxv. 6; Jos. War ii. 9. 3; 14. 8;
'maxima frequentia amplissimorum ac sapientissimorum civium adstante'
(Cicero).] Accordingly, the first question of Pilate was, what accusation they brought
against Jesus. The question would come upon them the more unexpectedly, that
Pilate must, on the previous evening, have given his consent to the employment of
the Roman guard which effected the arrest of Jesus. Their answer displays
humiliation, ill-humour, and an atempt at evasion. If He had not been 'a malefactor,
they would not have 'delivered' [1 Signficantly the same as that in reference
to the betrayal of Judas.] Him up! On this vague charge Pilate, in whom we mark
throughout a strange reluctance to proceed, perhaps from unwillingness to
please the Jews, perhaps from a desire to wound their feelings on the tenderest
point, perhaps because restrained by a Higher Hand, refused to proceed. He
proposed that the Sanhedrists should try Jesus according to the Jewish Law. This is
another important trait, as apparently implying that Pilate had been previously
aware both of the peculiar claims of Jesus, and that the action of the Jewish
authorities had been determined by 'envy.' [a St. Matt. xxvii. 18] But, under
ordinary circumstances, Pilate would not have wished to hand over a person accused
of so grave a charge as that of setting up Messianic claims to the Jewish
authorities, to try the case as a merely religious question. [b Acts. xxii. 30;
xxii. 28, 29; xxiv. 9, 18-20] Taking this in connection with the other fact,
apparently inconsistent with it, that on the previous evening the Governor had given
a Roman guard for the arrest of the prisoner, and with this other fact of the
dream and warning of Pilate's wife, a peculiar impression is conveyed to us. We
can understand it all, if, on the previous evening, after the Roman guard had
been granted, Pilate had spoken of it to his wife, whether because he knew her
to be, or because she might be interested in the matter. Tradition has given
her the name Procula; [c Nicephorus, H. E. i 30] while] an Apocryphal Gospel
describes her as a convert to Judaism; [d Gospel according to Nicod. ch. ii.] while
the Greek Church has actually placed her in the Catalogue of Saints. What if
the truth lay between these statements, and Procula had not only been a
proselyte, like the wife of a previous Roman Governor, [2 Staturnius(Jos. Ant. xviii.
3, 5).] but known about Jesus and spoken of Him to Pilate on that evening? This
would best explain his relutance to condemn Jesus, as well as her dream of Him.
As the Jewish authorities had to decline the Governor's offer to proceed
against Jesus before their own tribunal, on the avowed ground that they had not
power to pronounce capital sentence, [3 The apparently strange statement, St. John
xviii. 32, affords another undesigned confirmation of the Jewish authorship fo
the Fourth Gospel. It seems to imply, that the Sanhedrin might have found a
mode of putting Jesus to death in the same informal manner in which Stephen was
killed and they sought to destroy Paul. The jewish law recognised a form of
porcedure, or rather a want of procedure, when a person caught in flagrante delicto
of blasphemy might be ddone to death without further inquiry.] it now behoved
them to formulat a capital charge. This is recorded by St. Luke alone. [a St.
Luke xxii. 2, 3] It was, that Jesus had said, He Himself was Christ a King. It
will be noted, that in so saying they falsely imputed to Jesus their own
political expectations concerning the Messiah. But even this is not all. They prefaced
it by this, that He perverted the nation and forbade to give tirbute to Caesar.
The latter charge was so grossly unfounded, that we can only regard it as in
their mind a necessary inference from the premiss that He claimed to be King.
And, as telling most against Him, they put this first and foremost, treating the
inference as if it were a fact, a practice this only too common in
controversies, political, religious, or private.
This charge of the Sanhedrists explains what, according to all the
Evangelists, passed within the Praetorium. We presume that Christ was within, probably in
charge of some guards. The words of the Sanhedrists brought peculiar thoughts
of Pilate. He now called Jesus and asked Him: 'Thou art the King of the Jews?'
There is that mixture of contempt for all that was Jewish, and of that general
cynicism which could not believe in the existence of anything higher, we mark a
feeling of awe in regard to Christ, even though the feeling may partly have
been of superstition. Out of all that the Sanhedrists had said, Pilate took only
this, that Jesus claimed to be a King. Christ, Who had not heard the charge of
His accusers, now ignored it, in His desire to stretch out salvation even to a
Pilate. Not heeding the implied irony, He first put it to Pilate, whether the
question, be it criminal charge or inquiry, was his own, or merely the
repeitition of what His Jewish accusers had told Pilate of Him. The Governor quickly
disowned any personal inquiry. How could he raise any such question? he was not a
Jew, and the subject had no general interest. Jesus' own nation and its leader
had handed Him over as a criminal: what had He done?
The answer of Pilate left nothing else for Him Who, even in that supreme hour,
thought only of others, not of Himself. but to bring before the Roman directly
that truth for which his words had given the opening. It was not, as Pilate
had implied, a Jewish question: it was one of absolute truth; it concerned all
men. The Kingdom of Christ was not of this world at all, either Jewish or
Gentile. Had it been otherwise, He would have led His followers to a contest for His
claims and aims, and not have become a prisoner of the Jews. One word only in
all this struck Pilate. 'So then a King art Thou!' He was incapable of
apprehending the higher thought and truth. We mark in his words the same mixture of
scoffing and misgiving. Pilate was now in no doubt as to the nature of the Kingdom;
his exclamation and question applied to the Kingship. That fact Christ would
now emphasise in the glory of His Humiliation. He accepted what Pilate said; He
adopted his words. But He added to them an appeal, or rather an explanation of
His claims, such as a heathen, and a Pilate, could understand. His Kingdom was
not of this world, but of that other world which He had come to reveal, and to
open to all believers. Here was the truth! His Birth or Incarnation, as the Sent
of the Father, and His own voluntary Coming into this world, for both are
referred to in His words [a St. John xviii. 37], had it for their object to testify
of the truth concerning that other world, of which was His Kingdom. This was
no Jewish-Messianic Kingdom, but one that appealed to all men. And all who had
moral affinity to 'the truth' would listen to His testimony, and so come to own
Him as 'King.'
But these words struck only a hollow void, as they fell on Pilate. It was not
merely cynicism, but utter despair of all that is higher, a moral suicide,
which appears in his question: 'What is truth?' He had understood Christ, but it
was not in him to respond to His appeal. He, whose heart and life had so little
kinship to 'the truth,' could not sympathise with, though he dimly perceived,
the grand aim of Jesus' Life and Work. But even the question of Pilate seems an
admission, an implied homage to Christ. Assuredly, he would not have so opened
his inner being to one of the priestly accusers of Jesus.
That man was no rebel, no criminal! They who brought Him were moved by the
lowest passions. And so he told them, as he went out, that he found no fault in
Him. Then came from the assembled Sanhedrists a perfect hailstorm of accusations.
As we picture it to ourselves, all this while the Christ stood near, perhaps
behind Pilate, just within the portals of the Praetorium. And to all this
clamour of charges He made no reply. It was as if the surging of the wild waves broke
far beneath against the base of the rock, which, untouched, reared its head
far aloft to the heavens. But as He stood in the calm silence of Majesty, Pilate
greatly wondered. Did this Man not even fear death; was He so conscious of
innocence, so infinitely superior to those around and against Him, or had He so far
conquered Death, that He would not condescend to their words? And why then had
He spoken to him of His Kingdom and of that truth?
Fain would he have withdrawn from it all; not that he was moved for absolute
truth or by the personal innocence of the Sufferer, but that there was that in
the Christ which, perhaps for the first time in his life, had made him reluctant
to be unrighteous and unjust. And so, when, amidst these confused cries, he
caught the name Galilee as the scene of Jesus' labours, he gladly seized on what
offered the prospect of devolving the responsibility on another. Jesus was a
Galilean, and therefore belonged to the jurisdiction of King Herod. To Herod,
therefore, who had come for the Feast to Jerusalem, and there occupied the old
Maccabean Palace, close to that of the High-Priest, Jesus was now sent. [a St.
Luke xxiii. 6-12] [1 Meyer marks this as the technical term in handing over a
criminal to the proper judicial authority.]
To St. Luke alone we owe the account of what passed there, as, indeed, of so
many traits in this last scene of the terrible drama. [2 It is worse than idle,
it is trifling to ask, whence the Evangelists derived their accounts. As if
those things had been done in a corner, or none of those who now were guilty had
afterwards become disciples!] The opportunity now offered was welcome to Herod.
It was a mark of reconciliation (or might be viewed as such) between himself
and the Roman, and in a manner flattering to himself, since the first step had
been taken by the Governor, and that, by an almost ostentatious acknowledgement
of the rights of the Tetrarch, on which possibly their former feud may have
turned. Besides, Herod had long wished to see Jesus, of Whom he had heard so many
things. [b St. Luke ix. 7-9] In that hour coarse curiosity, a hope of seeing
some magic performances, was the only feeling that moved the Tetrarch. But in vain
did he ply Christ with questions. He was as silent to him as formerly against
the virulent charges of the Sanhedrists. But a Christ Who would or could do no
signs, nor even kindle into the same denunciations as the Baptist, was, to the
coarse realism of Antipas, only a helpless figure that might be insulted and
scoffed at, as did the Tetrarch and his men of war. [3 It is impossible to say,
whether 'the gorgeous apparel' in which Herod arrayed Christ was purple, or
white. Certainly it was not, as Bishop Haneberg suggests (Relig. Alterth. p. 554),
an old high-priestly garment of the Maccabees.] And so Jesus was once more sent
back tothe Praetorium.
It is in the interval during which Jesus was before Herod, or probably soon
afterwards, that we place the last weird scene in the life of Judas, recorded by
St. Matthew. [a St. Matt. xxvii. 3-10] We infer this from the circumstance,
that, on the return of Jesus from Herod, the Sanhedrists do not seem to have been
present, since Pilate had to call them together, [b St Luke xxiii. 13; comp.
St. Matt. xxvii. 17.] presumably from the Temple. And here we recall that the
Temple was close to the Maccabean Palace. Lastly, the impression left on our minds
is, that henceforth the principal part before Pilate was sustained by 'the
people,' the Priests and Scribes rather instigating them than conducting the case
against Jesus. It may therefore well have been, that, when the Sanhedrists went
from the Maccabean Palace into the Temple, as might be expected on that day,
only a part of them returned to the Praetorium on the summons of Pilate.
But, however that may have been, sufficient had already passed to convince
Judas what the end would be. Indeed, it is difficult to believe that he could have
deceived himself on this point from the first, however he had failed to
realise the fact in its terrible import till after his deed. The words which Jesus
had spoken to him in the Garden must have burnt into his soul. He was among the
soldiery that fell back at His look. Since then Jesus had been led bound to
Annas, to Caiaphas, to the Praetorium, to Herod. Even if Judas had not been present
at any of these occasions, and we do not suppose that his conscience had
allowed this, all Jerusalem must by that time have been full of the report, probably
in even exaggerated form. One thing he saw: that Jesus was condemned. Judas
did not 'repent' in the Scriptural sense; but 'a change of mind and feeling' came
over him. [1 The verb designatingScriptural repentance is (); that here used
is (), as in St. Matt. xxi. 29, as in St. Matt. xxi. 29, 32; 2 Cor. vii. 8; Heb.
vii. 21.] Even had Jesus been an ordinary man, and the relation to Him of
Judas been the ordinary one, we could understand his feelings, especially
considering his ardent temperament. The instant before and after sin represents the
difference of feeling as portrayed in the history of the Fall of our first parents.
With the commission of sin, all the bewitching, intoxicating influence, which
incited to it, has passed away, and only the naked fact remains. All the
glamour has been dispelled; all the reality abideth. If we knew it, probably scarcely
one out of many criminals but would give all he has, nay, life itself, if he
could recall the deed done, or awake from it to find it only an evil dream. But
it cannot be; and the increasingly terrible is, that it is done, and done for
ever. Yet this is not 'repentance,' or, at least, God alone knows whether it is
such; it may be, and in the case of Judas it only was, 'change of mind and
feeling' towards Jesus. Whether this might have passed into repentance, whether, if
he had cast himself at the Feet of Jesus, as undoubtedly he might have done,
this would have been so, we need not here ask. The mind and feelings of Judas,
as regarded the deed he had done, and as regarded Jesus, were now quite other;
they became increasingly so with ever-growing intensity. The road, the streets,
the people's faces, all seemed now to bear witness against him and for Jesus.
He read it everywhere; he felt it always; he imagined it, till his whole being
was on flame. What had been; what was; what would be! Heaven and earth receded
from him; there were voices in the air, and pangs in the soul, and no escape,
help, counsel, or hope anywhere.
It was despair, and his a desperate resolve. He must get rid of these thirty
pieces of silver, which, like thirty serpents, coiled round his soul with
terrible hissing of death. Then at least his deed would have nothing of the selfish
in it: only a terrible error, a mistake, to which he had been incited by these
Sanhedrists. Back to them with the money, and let them have it again! And so
forward he pressed amidst the wondering crowd, which would give way before that
haggard face with the wild eyes, that crime had made old in those few hours, till
he came upon that knot of priests and Sanhedrists, perhaps at that very moment
speaking of it all. A most unwelcome sight and intrusion on them, this
necessary but odious figure in the drama, belonging to its past, and who should rest
in its obscurity. But he would be heard; nay, his words would cast the burden on
them to share it with him, as with hoarse cry he broke into this: 'I have
sinned, in that I have betrayed, innocent blood!' They turned from him with
impatience, in contempt, as so often the seducer turns from the seduced, and, God help
such, with the same fiendish guilt of hell: 'What is that to us? See thou to
it!' And presently they were again deep in conversation or consultation. For a
moment he stared wildly before him, the very thirty pieces of silver that had
been weighed to him, and which he had now brought back, and would fain have given
them, still clutched in his hand. For a moment only, and then he wildly rushed
forward, towards the Sanctuary itself, [1 The expression is always used in the
N.T. of the Sanctuary itself, and not of the outer courts; but it would
include the Court of the Priests, where the sacrifices were offered.] probably to
where the Court of Israel bounded on that of the Priests, where generally the
penitents stood in waiting, while in the Priests' Court the sacrifice was offered
for them. He bent forward, and with all his might hurled from him [2 I so
understand the of St. Matt. xxvii. 5.] those thirty pieces of silver, so that each
resounded as it fell on the marble pavement.
Out he rushed from the Temple, out of Jerusalem, 'into solitude.' pieces of
silver, so that each resounded as it fell on the marble pavement.
Out he rushed from the Temple, out of Jerusalem, 'into solitude.' [1] Whither
shall it be? Down into the horrible solitude of the Valley of Hinnom, the
'Tophet' of old, with its ghastly memories, the Gehenna of the future, with its
ghostly associations. But it was not solitude, for it seemed now peopled with
figures, faces, sounds. Across the Valley, and up the steep sides of the mountain!
We are now on 'the potter's field' of Jeremiah, somewhat to the west above where
the Kidron and Hinnom valleys merge. It is cold, soft clayey soil, where the
footsteps slip, or are held in clammy bonds. Here jagged rocks rise
perpendicularly: perhaps there was some gnarled, bent, stunted tree. [2 The topographical
notice is based on Badeker-Socin's Palastina, pp. 114-116.] Up there climbed to
the top of that rock. Now slowly and deliberately he unwound the long girdle
that held his garment. It was the girdle in which he had carried those thirty
pieces of silver. He was now quite calm and collected. With that girdle he will
hang himself [3 This, not with any idea that his death would expiate for his sin.
No such idea attached to suicide among the Jews.] on that tree close by, and
when he has fastened it, he will throw himself off from that jagged rock.
It is done; but as, unconscious, not yet dead perhaps, he swung heavily on
that branch, under the unwonted burden the girdle gave way, or perhaps the knot,
which his trembling hands had made, unloosed, and he fell heavily forward among
the jagged rocks beneath, and perished in the manner of which St. Peter
reminded his fellow-disciples in the days before Pentecost. [a Acts i. 18. 19.] [4 As
presented in the text, there is no real divergence between the accounts of St.
Matthew and the Book of Acts. Keim has formulated the supposed differences
under five particulars, which are discussed seriatim by Nebe, Leidensgesch. vol.
ii. pp. 12 &c.] But in the Temple the priests knew not what to do with these
thirty pieces of money. Thier unscrupulous scrupulosity came again upon them. It
was not lawful to take into the Temple-treasury, for the purchase of sacred
things, money that had been unlawfully gained. In such cases the Jewish Law provided
that the money was to be restored to the donor, and, if he insisted on giving
it, that he should be induced to spend it for something for the public weal.
This explains the apparent discrepancy between the accounts in the Book of Acts
and by St. Matthew. By a fiction of law the money was still considered to be
Judas', and to have been applied by him [b Acts. i. 18.] in the purchase of the
well-known 'potter's field,' for the charitable purpose of burying in it
strangers. [a St. Matt. xxvii, 7.] But from henceforth the old name of 'potterhs
field,' became popularly changed into that of 'field of blood' (Haqal Dema). And yet
it was the act of Israel through its leaders: 'they took the thirty pieces of
silver, the price of him that was valued, whom they of the children of Israel
did value, and gave them for the potter's field!' It was all theirs, though they
would have fain made it all Judas': the valuing, the selling, and the
purchasing. And 'the potter's field', the very spot on which Jeremiah had been Divinely
directed to prophesy against Jerusalem and against Israel: [b Jer. xix.] how
was it now all fulfilled in the light of the completed sin and apostasy of the
people, as prophetically described by Zechariah! This Tophet of Jeremiah, now
that they had valued and sold at thirty shekel Israel's Messiah-Shepherd, truly a
Tophet, and become a field of blood! Surely, not an accidental coincidence
this, that it should be the place of Jeremy's announcement of judgment: not
accidental, but veritably a fulfilment of his prophecy! And so St. Matthew, targuming
this prophecy in form [1 The alterations in the words quoted are, as previously
explained, a 'targuming' of them.] as in its spirit, and in true Jewish manner
stringing to it the prophectic description furnished by Zechariah, sets the
event before us as the fulfilment of Jeremy's prophecy. [2 Most Commentators,
however, regardthe word 'Jeremy' as a lapse of memory, or an oversight by the
Evangelist, or else as a very early error of transcription. Other explanations
(more or less unsatisfactory) may be seen in the commentaries. Bohl (Alttest. Cit.
p. 78), following Valckenar, thinks the mistake arose from confounding (written
abbreviated) with But the whole question is of no real importance.]
We are once more outside the Praetorium, to which Pilate had summoned from the
Temple Sanhedrists and people. The crowd was momentarily increasing from the
town. [3 According to the better reading of St. Mark xv. 8 'the multitude was
going up.' It was not only to see what was about to happen, but to witness
another spectacle, that of the release of a prisoner. For it seems to have been the
custom, that at the Passover [4 How can they who regard the Johannie account as
implying that Christ was crucified on the morning before the Passover, explain
the words of St. John, 'Ye have a custom, that I should release unto you one at
the Passover'?] the Roman Governor released to the Jewish populace some
notorious prisoner who lay condemned to death. A very significant custom of release
this, for which they now began to clamour. It may have been, that to this also
they were incited by the Sanhedrist who mingled among them. For if the stream of
popular sympathy might be diverted to Bar-Abbas, the doom of Jesus would be
the more securely fixed. On the present occasion it might be the more easy to
influence the people, since Bar-Abbas belonged to that class, not uncommon at the
time, which, under the colourable pretence of political aspirations, committed
robbery and other crimes. But these movements had deeply struck root in popular
sympathy. A strange name and figure, Bar-Abbas. That could scarcely have been
his real name. It means 'Son of the Father.' [1 The ancient reading 'Jesus
Bar-Abbas' is not sufficiently attested to be adopted.] Was he a political
Anti-Christ? And why, if there had not been some conjunction between them, should
Pilate have proposed the alternative of Jesus or Bar-Abbas, and not rather that of
one of the two malefactors who were actually crucified with Jesus?
But when the Governor, hoping to enlist some popular sympathy, put this
alternative to them, nay, urged it, on the ground that neither he nor yet Herod had
found any crime in Him, and would even have appeased their thirst for vengeance
by offering to submit Jesus to the cruel punishment of scourging, it was in
vain. It was now that Pilate sat down on 'the judgment seat.' But ere he could
proceed, came that message from his wife about her dream, and the warning entreaty
to have nothing to do 'with that righteous man.' An omen such as a dream, and
an appeal connected with it, especially in the circumstances of that trial,
would powerfully impress a Roman. And for a few moments it seemed as if the appeal
to popular feeling on behalf of Jesus might have been successful. [a St. Mark
xi, 11.] But once more the Sanhedrists prevailed. Apparently, all who had been
followers of Jesus had been scattered. None of them seem to have been there;
and if one or another feeble voice might have been raised for Him, it was hushed
in fear of the Sanhedrists. It was Bar-Abbas for whom, incited by the
priesthood, the populace now clamoured with increasing vehemence. To the question, half
bitter, half mocking what they wished him to do with Him Whom their own leaders
had in their accusation called 'King of the Jews,' surged back, louder and
louder, the terrible cry: 'Crucify him!' That such a cry should have been raised,
and raised by Jews, and before the Roman, and against Jesus, are in themselves
almost inconceivable facts, to which the history of these eighteen centuries
has made terrible echo. In vain Pilate expostulated, reasoned, appealed. Popular
frenzy only grew as it was opposed.
All reasoning having failed, Pilate had recourse to one more expedient, which,
under ordinary circumstances, would have been effective. [b St. Matt. xxvii.
24, 25.] When a Judge, after having declared the innocence of the accused,
actually rises from the judgment-seat, and by a symbolic act pronounces the
execution of the accused a judicial murder, from all participation in which he wishes
solemnly to clear himself, surely no jury would persist in demanding sentence of
death. But in the present instance there was even more. Although we find
allusions to some such custom among the heathen, [1 See the quotations in Wetstein,
ad loc., and Nebe, u. s. p. 104.] that which here took place was an essentially
Jewish rite, which must have appealed the more forcibly to the Jews that it
was done by Pilate. And, not only the rite, but the very words were Jewish. [2 is
a Hebraism.] They recall not merely the rite prescribed in Deut. xxi. 6, &c.,
to mark the freedom from guilt of the elders of a city where untracked murder
had been committed, but the very words of such Old Testament expressions as in 2
Sam. iii. 28, and Ps. xxvi. 6, lxxiii. 13, [a In the LXX. version.] and,in
later times, in Sus. ver. 46. The Mishnah bears witness that this rite was
continued. [b Sot.ix. 6.] As administering justice in Israel, Pilate must have been
aware of this rite. [3 The Evangelist put what he said into the well-remembered
Old Testament words.] It does not affect the question, whether or not a judge
could, especially in the circumstances recorded, free himself from guilt.
Certainly, he could not; but such conduct on the part of a Pilate appears so utterly
unusual, as, indeed, his whole bearing towards Christ, that we can only account
for it by the deep impression which Jesus had made upon him. All the more
terrible would be the guilt of Jewish resistance. There is something overawing in
Pilate's, 'See ye to it', a reply to the Sanhedrists' 'See thou to it,' to Judas,
and in the same words. It almost seems, as if the scene of mutual imputation
of guilt in the Garden of Eden were being reenacted. The Mishnah tells us, that,
after the solemn washing of hands of the elders and their disclaimer of guilt,
priest responded with this prayer: 'Forgive it to Thy people Israel, whom Thou
hast redeemed, O Lord, and lay not innocent blood upon Thy people Israel!' But
here, in answer to Pilate's words, came back that deep, hoarse cry: 'His Blood
be upon us,' and, God help us!, 'on our children!' Some thirty years later,
and on that very spot, was judgment pronounced against some of the best in
Jerusalem; and among the 3,600 victims of the Governor's fury, of whom not a few were
scourged and crucified right over against the Praetorium, were many of the
noblest of the citizens of Jerusalem. [c Jos. War 14, 8, 9.] A few years more, and
hundreds of crosses bore Jewish mangled bodies within sight of Jerusalem. And
still have these wanderers seemed to bear, from century to century, and from
land to land, that burden of blood; and still does it seem to weigh 'on us and
our children.'
The Evangelists have passed as rapidly as possible over the last scenes of
indignity and horror, and we are too thankful to follow their example. Bar-Abbas
was at once released. Jesus was handed over to the soldiery to be scourged and
crucified, although final and formal judgment had not yet been pronounced. [a
St. John xix. 1, following.] Indeed, Pilate seems to have hoped that the horrors
of the scourging might still move the people to desist from the ferocious cry
for the Cross. [b St. John xix.4, following.] For the same reason we may also
hope, that the scourging was not inflicted with the same ferocity as in the case
of Christian martyrs, when, with the object of eliciting the incrimination of
others, or else recantation, the scourge of leather thongs was loaded with lead,
or armed with spikes and bones, which lacerated back, and chest, and face,
till the victim sometimes fell down before the judge a bleeding mass of torn
flesh. But, however modified, and without repeating the harrowing realism of a
Cicero, scourging was the terrible introduction to crucifixion, 'the intermediate
death.' Stripped of His clothes, His hands tied and back bent, the Victim would
be bound to a column or stake, in front of the Praetorium. The scourging ended,
the soldiery would hastily cast upon Him His upper garments, and lead Him back
into the Praetorium. Here they called the whole cohort together, and the
silent, faint Sufferer became the object of their ribald jesting. From His bleeding
Body they tore the clothes, and in mockery arrayed Him in scarlet or purple. [1
The Sagum, or short woollen military cloak, scarlet or purple (the two colours
are often confounded, comp. Wetstein ad loc.), fastened by a clasp on the right
shoulder. It was also worn by Roman generals, and sometimes (in more costly
form and material) presented to foreign kings.] For crown they would together
thorns, and for sceptre they placed in His Hand a reed. Then alternately, in mock
proclamation they hailed Him King, or worshipped Him as God, and smote Him or
heaped on Him other indignities. [2 Origen already marks in this a notable
breach of military discipline. Keim (Jesu von Naz. iii. 2, pp. 393, &c.) gives a
terribly graphic and realistic account of the whole scene. The soldiers were, as
mostly in the provinces, chiefly provincials, in this case, probably Syrians.
They were all the more bitterly hostile to the Jews (Jos. Ant. xix. 9. 1; War ii.
12, 1. 2; v. 11, 1, there also derision at execution). A strange illustration
of the scene is afforded by what happened only a few years afterwards at
Alexandria, when the people in derision of King Agrippa I., arrayed a well-known
maniac (Karabas) in a common door-mat, put a papyrus crown on his head, and a reed
in his hand, and saluted him 'Maris,' lord (Philo, In Flacc. ed. Mang. ii. 522;
Wetstein, N.T, i. p. 535). On all the classical illustrations and
corroborations of the whole proceedings in every detail, the reader should consult
Wetstein, ad loc.]
Such a spectacle might well have disarmed enmity, and for ever allayed worldly
fears. And so Pilate had hoped, when, at his bidding, Jesus came forth from
the Praetorium, arrayed as a mock-king, and the Governor presented Him to the
populace in words which the Church has ever since treasured: 'Behold the Man!'
But, so far from appeasing, the sight only incited to fury the 'chief priests' and
their subordinates. This Man before them was the occasion, that on this
Paschal Day a heathen dared in Jerusalem itself insult their deepest feeling, mock
their most cherished Messianic hopes! 'Crucify!' 'Crucify!' resounded from all
sides. Once more Pilate appealed to them, when, unwittingly and unwillingly, it
elicited this from the people, that Jesus had claimed to be the Son of God.
If nothing else, what light it casts on the mode in which Jesus had borne
Himself amidst those tortures and insults, that this statement of the Jews filled
Pilate with fear, and led him to seek again converse with Jesus within the
Praetorium. The impression which had been made at the first, and been deepened all
along, had now passed into the terror of superstition. His first question to
Jesus was, whence He was? And when, as was most fitting, since he could not have
understood it, Jesus returned no answer, the feelings of the Romans became only
the more intense. Would he not speak; did He not know that he had absolute
power 'to release or to crucify' Him? [1 This is the proper order of the words. To
'release' is put first to induce Christ to speak.] Nay, not absolute power, all
power came from above; but the guilt in the abuse of power was far greater on
the part of apostate Israel and its leaders, who knew whence power came, and to
Whom they were responsible for its exercise.
So spake not an impostor; so spake not an ordinary man, after such sufferings
and in such circumstances, to one who, whencesoever derived, had the power of
life or death over Him. And Pilate felt it, the more keenly, for his cynicism
and disbelief of all that was higher. And the more earnestly did he now seek to
release Him. But, proportionately, the louder and fiercer was the cry of the
Jews for His Blood, till they threatened to implicate in the charge of rebellion
against Caesar the Governor himself, if he persisted in unwonted mercy.
Such danger a Pilate would never encounter. He sat down once more in the
judgment-seat, outside the Praetorium, in the place called 'Pavement,' and, from its
outlook over the City, 'Gabbatha,' [2 The derivation of Wunsche 'back of the
Temple,' is on every ground to be rejected. Gabbath or Gabbetha means 'a rounded
height.' It occurs also as the name of a town (Jer. Taan. 69 b).] 'the rounded
height.' So solemn is the transaction that the Evan gelist pauses to note once
more the day, nay, the very hour, when the process had commenced. It had been
the Friday in Passover-week, [1 I have simply rendered the by Friday in
Passover-week. The evidence for regarding , in the Gospels, as the terminus technicus
for Friday, has been often set forth. See Kirchner, D. jud. Passahf. pp. 47,
&c.] and between six and seven of the morning. [2 The hour ('about the sixth')
could only refer to when the process was taken in hand.] And at the close Pilate
once more in mockery presented to them Jesus: 'Behold your King!' [3 I ought to
mention that the verb in St. John xix. 13, has been taken by some critics in
the transitive sense: 'Pilate . . . brought Jesus forth and seated Him in the
judgment-seat,' implying an act of mock-homage on the part of Pilate when, in
presenting to the Jews their King, he placed Him on the judgment-seat. Ingenious
as the suggestion is, and in some measure supported, it does not accord with the
whole tenour of the narrative.] Once more they called for His Crucifixion,
and, when again challenged, the chief priests burst into the cry, which preceded
Pilate's final sentence, to be presently executed: 'We have no king but Caesar!'
With this cry Judaism was, in the person of its representatives, guilty of
denial of God, of blasphemy, of apostasy. It committed suicide; and, ever since,
has its dead body been carried in show from land to land, and from century to
century: to be dead, and to remain dead, till He come a second time, Who is the
Resurrection and the Life!
Pontius
Pilate
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