“What Shall I Do with the King of the Jews?”
Original sermon given April 2, 2023, written and delivered by Pastor Gregg Ramirez at First Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church
Watch the sermon live.
“What Shall I Do with the King of the Jews?”
Matthew 27:11-54
Matthew 27:11-54
Back in September of the year 1876, two men sat on a railroad train on the way to Indianapolis for a gathering of Civil War veterans. This was a time shortly after the publication of Charles Darwin’s Origin of the Species which had debunked the Bible’s creation story. Both men, intellectuals, were discussing the life of Christ, and one of them, a lawyer and former Civil War General, had been generally indifferent to religion through the course of his life. But the other, Robert Ingersoll, a former Army Captain, was the leading atheist of the time, a skeptic popular as a traveling speech maker with tirades against God, Jesus Christ, the Bible, and heaven and hell. On the train ride Ingersoll did most of the talking and, knowing that the General was a gifted writer, declared: “I think an interesting romance could be written about Rabbi Jesus and you are just the man to write it. Tear down the prevailing sentiment about His divinity, and paint Him as a man – a man only among other men.”
Upon arriving in Indianapolis, the former General found himself walking along the gaslit streets and seeking to process Ingersoll’s diatribe. He later said that for the first time in his life, his religious indifference had been challenged and he felt impelled to put much serious study into the matter. The romance was written – a story of revenge and redemption. The author, once apathetic to religion, was General Lew Wallace and the book was called Ben Hur, published in 1880. In the process of studying the life of Christ, General Wallace found himself facing Jesus. The more he researched, the more he was convinced that Christ was more than a man. One day he was forced to cry as the centurion at the cross, “Truly this was the Son of God.”
Without question, Jesus has had the mockers like Robert Ingersoll in every age, and most notably the anti-theists like Richard Dawkins or Bill Maher of our time. They proclaim that God is dead, and, much like the once indifferent Lew Wallace, our nation’s young people, the millennial and Gen Z generations are more likely to identify as “nothing in particular.” Perhaps you read the article in the March Lutheran Witness about the huge rise of the “nones” in the census statistics. America’s children have left the church in droves, and it’s not that they don’t believe in God. Most do, but the new religion is a deistic view of God where you keep the Christian ethics and see God as your helper. However, God has become Savior, and all too often Jesus and His cross are jettisoned. Why? It’s too exclusive and creates controversy when you make Jesus the only way.
So, with this in mind, doesn’t the unbelief and indifference of today find its parallel as our gospel lesson? St. Matthew takes us back to Pontius Pilate and the intense scene at the Gabbatha, the pavement courtyard just outside Pilate’s palace in Jerusalem. Here it is that Pilate voices his skepticism as he shouts out to the Jewish leaders and the crowd regarding the bound prisoner before him: “What shall I do then with the One you call the King of the Jews?”
Yes, Jesus is always on trial and what an explosive scene orchestrated by the Jewish leaders and the mob they had organized to accomplish their final solution to the Jesus problem. Indeed, there’s a part of me which really feels for Pilate in his situation – because the Roman governor is stuck between a rock and a hard place. Pilate knows that the Jewish leaders are trying to get rid of Jesus because of their envy. Jesus has captured the hearts of the populace in Jerusalem, and has become so dangerous that an insurrection is in the air. Besides their envy, Caiaphas and the other priests feared a crowd revolt would end with the Roman government crushing the populace but also coming down on their heads – literally destroying their whole way of living.
That’s why they’re so frantic to get Jesus on a cross, but Pilate’s a proud man and he doesn’t want to be railroaded, his arm twisted by the Jewish authorities. He’s the governor, the head of state, after all. It doesn’t look good nor feel good for him to be pushed around – to be intimidated by these conniving Jews. Pilate has his reputation to uphold, and he’s been groomed for success. The emperor is watching how he performs his task of keeping the rebellious province of Judea in check. His future ambitions for glory back in Rome are on the line, and Pilate senses that this situation with the Rabbi Jesus and the Jewish priests could have some negative future repercussions. It could well come back to bite him.
So, Pilate attempts valiantly to escape the responsibility of making a decision. He sends Jesus off to Herod to try Him, but Herod sends Jesus back. Then Pilate remembers a time-honored custom. During the Passover, the Governor would, as a sign of his merciful spirit, release a prisoner whom the people requested. Here was Pilate’s chance to take care of the Jesus problem. The crowd would be merciful, he thinks. But it’s here that Pilate makes his first big mistake. They would want Jesus freed rather than the criminal Barabbas – so he thought. Instead of making a decision – pronouncing Jesus as innocent – for Pilate knew Jesus was not a criminal – Pilate made a proposition: “Do you want me to release to you the King of the Jews?” In doing so, he maneuvered himself into defeat. He forgot that he is the judge as he pleads with the crowd.
And that’s all the Jewish leaders needed. They stir up their supporters in the crowd and there’s the unrelenting chant, “crucify Him and free Barabbas!” They’re a mob. They sense Pilate’s weakness. He’s unnerved. They’ve gotten under his skin and it gets worse as the Jews finally play their trump card as they shout: “If you let this man go, you are no friend of Caesar. Anyone who claims to be a King opposes Caesar.”
There it was: the threat of the third strike. Already during his rule, Pilate had foolishly gotten two strikes against him: first, he sent his soldiers into the temple precincts indiscriminately killing worshippers and mixing their blood with the animal sacrifices. Then second, Pilate had taken temple monies for use in Roman building projects.
Now all it would take was Pilate to release the King of the Jews. Strike three and Caiaphas and the gang would have all they needed to send a letter to the emperor demanding Pilate’s removal from office.
I can imagine Pilate quivering inside. He’s a strong man but not a fool. Will Pilate knowingly free a guilty man and condemn an innocent one? He wants to release the Rabbi Jesus, but look what’s on the line. He’s sensing the worst case scenario. Instead of future glory in Rome, he will be called back in disgrace. He’s now forced to cast the deciding vote that would break the tie. Pilate’s wife is for Jesus. Roman justice is for Jesus. Pilate’s conscience is for Jesus. Yet, over and against them are the clamoring priests and crowd. Is Pilate going to do it what’s right? Is he going to lose it all for the lowly, so increasingly expendable Jewish rabbi? So much easier, so much wiser to compromise. Pilate’s fatal weakness has been exposed. Would he follow his conscience or three strikes and you’re out? Weakly he says, “Shall I crucify your King?” They reply, “We have no king but Caesar.” It’s a done deal. Pilate washes his hands of it all. Let the flogging and crucifixion begin.
Though I know all this, I still cringe as I, in spirit, enter into this scene. How weak Pilate appears after caving in, but I also know there’s still plenty of Pilate in me when push comes to shove and then the sad consequences. “What shall I do with the King of the Jews?” Pilate asked. All too well do Pilate’s soldiers know what to do as they crush Him in body and spirit – striving to erase any concept that He was a King. Yes, a procession would be prepared in His honor. The high priest and his cohort would gladly march along. Yes, the crown on his head – of thorns, the guard of honor – the taunting soldiers, the throne of honor – on a bloody tree, the title over His head - King of the Jews, and finally the wine of honor – mixed with gall.
So pitiful is the scene, yet know this. Jesus is always on trial. It’s been going on for the last 2,000 years and into our time. He continues to go on trial amidst the procession of life as seen in the media, books, and movies. Through it all, people are being confronted and forced into Pilate’s position: “What shall I do with Jesus?”
In truth, it’s getting more dicey to be a Christian these days. Students in college who take a stand report being persecuted. Professors and people in the media can lose their jobs. Through the ages Jesus the King has retained the loyalty of His subjects. For we know that Pilate did have it right when he insisted that Jesus was innocent. Also, we know the Jewish leaders were, in reality, tools in accomplishing God’s Divine Counsel – that One should die for the sins of the people. He is the King Who will not go away as He dwells in the hearts of those of us who yet believe.
What shall I do with Jesus? That was Pilate’s question and we know what he did. Yet, more importantly, what should I do and you do – each one of us here? Is it not that we continue to stand up? Let it even be with a t-shirt that speaks of Him and words that tell a neighbor how He’s been good and made a difference in your life. What shall I do with Jesus? Is it not to stand up with Him – continuing your commitment to serve the least of those – the hungry, thirsty, the homeless, the ill? In these ways we are not silent for our actions speak as loudly as our words. You are putting yourself on the line for your King, the Son of God, and even suffer for it because truly there are times when sacrificial helping hurts.
What shall I do with Jesus? Maybe above all, it’s for us to be reminded that Jesus saw all the wrong decisions people were making and still are making and yet loved rather than condemned them. Frankly, will our condemnations bring about a change within people’s hearts? Instead, we are urged to love harder by lifting up in body and spirit those bruised and battered by life and also praying that God’s Spirit would move them like Lew Wallace to study and then finally proclaim – “Jesus, You are the Son of God.” Yet we can only do this as we first stay close to Him in faithful devotion. Then we love more gently and persuasively, letting Him love them and transform them through us – letting Him be the King of grace over their lives – the One who walks with them, talks with them, and tells them, as their Shepherd King, that they are His own now and forever.