During our Good Friday service, we will read from one of John’s amazing “onion stories” (multi-layered, with the possibility of tears). You’ll find the whole story in chapters 18 and 19. John records two overlapping conversations, one an attempted interrogation of Jesus by Pilate, the other a noisy, yet subtle, negotiation between Pilate and Jerusalem’s religious leaders. There’s even a little choreography, with Pilate dancing between Jesus inside the Roman headquarters and the crowd outside.

Interesting guy, Pilate. He’s a master of the expedient, dedicated to guarding Roman authority and his own, whether it’s by mixing the blood of Galileans with their sacrifices, as Luke tells us, or working a deal with a bunch of demanding religious folks, as here. What we have in this story should probably be used in political science classes. It’s a master class in deal-making.

For me, at the heart of the whole story is the simple question asked by Pilate. Remember? “What is truth?” he asks rhetorically. Now, it might be unbecoming for a preacher, but I’m ready to give Pilate a heartfelt amen. Good question, my cynical Roman friend, good question. Much has changed since that moment in Jerusalem, but the slipperiness of truth remains. “What is truth?” Well, tell me what you already assume, and I’m sure we can find the truth that fits … or what’s the Internet for?

“What is truth?” The truth is … the good religious folks wanted to get rid of Jesus. He was a blasphemer and a troublemaker who could bring Roman power down on their nation. He had to go.

“What is truth?” The truth is Pilate needed to keep tax revenues flowing. His political future depended on it.

The truth is the religious folks needed what only Pilate could give them, and they got it—Jesus crucified. And Pilate got exactly what HE wanted. “We have no king but Caesar,” the religious leaders said. Did you hear that? God’s own people, who praised God as the King of heaven and earth, pledged their allegiance to Caesar. Pilate could wash his hands in peace. He did his job.

That, folks, is how it’s done. Everybody walked away happy—depleted of soul—but happy. And, alas, religious folks have been making pretty much the same deal ever since. (“We need your power,” we say. “Great. What’s it worth to you?”)

[DISCLAIMER: I admit that what follows might not be your truth, but it’s mine—a statement of faith. It means everything to me, as our truths often do.]

As part of his deal, Pilate released the prisoner Barabbas, dubbed by John a bandit, by Mark and Luke a murderer and insurrectionist. Either way, releasing him seems like a pretty bad idea. But the truth is a crucified Jesus was and is a greater threat to the arrogance of power than any criminal or revolutionary.

The truth? Pilate thought he had the power. But he didn’t.

The truth? The religious leaders thought they were killing Jesus. But he was laying down his life.

The truth? Pilate and the good religious folks thought they were ending the story. But it was just beginning.

The truth? Christ’s cross unleashes a divine, revealing, forgiving, paradoxical power that makes us and all things new.

The truth? God is God, and we are not. Trust God.

In Christ,

Mark

Good Friday at Glenn

Tonight, March 29, Sanctuary

6:30 p.m. Organ Prelude

7 p.m. Worship