Good Friday Preaching of the Passion: 4. The Wisdom of the Cross
Good Friday
Canon Tim Schofield, Canon Emeritus of Chichester Cathedral
At one time it was thought that the picture “Christ before Pilate” was painted by Rembrandt. Now it is widely recognised as the work of one of his pupils, Nicholaes Maes. And for me it is a Johannine sort of picture. For, although it appears that Jesus is the one being judged by Pilate, the reality is the exact opposite. Jesus may be bound, at the mercy of others, but we see him clothed powerfully in light. And the light is so powerful that it pierces the darkness around Pilate as he sits in judgement. The message seems clear. It is Pilate, and all the figures around him, who are being examined in the light of Christ. And that’s why none of the figures in this scene, whether they be Pilate, religious leaders or the soldier can actually look at Jesus; for it is only “those who do what is true (who) come to the light” (3:21) as John’s gospel puts it. Pilate’s response to this encounter with the light of truth is to ask, “What is truth?”.
It’s not, of course, a genuine question. It is a way of exiting an uncomfortable encounter; the pragmatism of a political operator who is condemning to death a man he knows is innocent.
Jesus before Pilate – Nicolaes Maes
And yet Pilate’s question – “what is truth” – is a very contemporary one. We live in a pluralist society that looks on universal claims to truth with suspicion, as if they are attempts to exert power and control. We also live in a highly individualistic society where people feel autonomous and free to choose their own truth from the marketplace of ideas. Truth has shrunk to become what an individual says it is. But if truth is a problem for our postmodern society, the trial before Pilate reminds us that it has always been controversial.
John’s gospel, though, has a clear response to Pilates’ prevaricating “What is truth”? It records Jesus saying, “I am the way, the truth and the life”. And Maes’ picture unpacks for us something of what it means for Jesus to be the truth. It is not just that Jesus speaks the truth, because in this picture Jesus appears to be silent. It is more that Jesus reveals the truth in the way he is. Pilate is coming up against someone here who is utterly real, someone with total transparency and integrity. We might say that the light of truth is embodied in Jesus and the way he lives and dies.
And for a politician, like Pilate, who is used to operating in the world of the pragmatic all this is disturbing. For the truth that is in Jesus can’t be controlled or manipulated. Jesus says to Pilate; “Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice”. Truth is not something we determine – there is no postmodern “truth for me” here – it is something to which we are called to belong. And that means engaging with the otherness of Jesus that takes us beyond what we think we know. Just as there is always something more to be discovered in Jesus so there is always more to truth than we have yet grasped or seen. And that open engagement with Jesus, in which we acknowledge that we won’t ever have the security of knowing the whole truth, can be difficult especially when it comes to matters of life and death.
Certainly, Pilate shrinks from such an encounter. Instead, he tries to regain control by exerting his authority. “Do you not know that I have power to release you, and power to crucify you?”, he says to Jesus. And the power to crucify was a device consciously used by the Roman Empire to manipulate and cower dissidents. “Crucifixion was not just a means of liquidating undesirables”. It was a way of saying; we have power to humiliate you; we own you and can do what we like with you; we can shame and defile you and there is nothing you can do about it. It was a symbolic form of execution intended to intimidate and terrify.
Pilate, then, is revealed for who he is before the light of Jesus’ truth. He is not interested in truth or justice but only in keeping power and preserving his own status and position. It’s characteristic of so much of our modern political system too but it leaves those who strive to possess power vulnerable to being exploited themselves. A contemporary historian recorded how earlier in Pilate’s governorship a delegation of princes had come before him and threatened to tell Emperor Tiberius about his corrupt conduct in Palestine– about the bribes, about the outrages and injustices, about the executions without trial, about what they called ceaseless cruelty. Pilate was aware that his record made him vulnerable and that he needed to be careful if he was to survive politically. So, when at the time of Jesus’ trial, the religious leaders said to Pilate: “If you release this man, you are no friend of the emperor” he had no alternative but to sentence Jesus to death. The fourth gospel presents us here with a picture of what St. Paul calls “the wisdom of the world”. It reveals a preoccupation with power in both the arena of politics and religion. And it seems to be implicit in this wisdom of the world that self-preservation, looking after number one, is a priority.
The contrast between this worldly wisdom and the truth of Jesus could not be more stark. For as Jesus dies on the cross, he reveals that the truth is not about power but about love. This truth is acted out as Jesus lays down his life rather than seeking to preserve it at all costs. The truth is done as Jesus embraces an accursed death so identifying with the forsaken and lost and revealing God’s grace and compassion for the powerless. That’s why John’s gospel tells us that in the cross of Jesus we see his glory which is full of grace and truth. And we are called to live out the grace and truth of Jesus in our own context and culture. So, what might that look like in the political context of our own time?
We live in what has been called a post-truth culture. The term post-truth was first coined in 2010 but it is associated with the politics of populism. It refers to the way political life in the west is now shaped, not by objective facts or reasoned policies, but by an appeal to emotion and personal feelings. And although it appears to be democratic, it can also display a disturbing contempt for debate and for those who disagree with the voice of populism. Debate, dissent is not always welcome in a post-truth society.
So, if we are to apply the truth encountered in Jesus to the current political scene, we would want to say that there must be room to express disagreement. The truth isn’t possessed by anyone. And as soon as there is an attempt to enforce our convictions or exert power over what truth is then we are following the wisdom of the world not of the cross. It also implies a responsibility to listen to each other and to listen attentively.
And then politics needs to be marked by compassion for the lost and marginalised, for Jesus’ identification with the forsaken lies at the heart of the wisdom of the cross. And finally, there is the motivation behind political life. True wisdom is not about self-preservation and hanging on to power at all costs. It is about being willing to lay down one’s life in service for the common good. That is a very hard calling in our individualistic society, which is why we need to pray earnestly for all our politicians and all in positions of power.