A Greater Sin

John 19:1-16

April 15, 2022 (Good Friday) • Mount Pleasant UMC

Had it not been for this day, Pontius Pilate might have been no more than a footnote in history. He might not have been remembered at all, but because of his encounter with Jesus on this fateful Friday, he is forever remembered in the Apostle’s Creed as the one under whom Jesus suffered. No one names their children Pontius or Pilate, and we equate his name with evil at worst and a lack of willpower at best. Pilate was a Roman functionary who didn’t want to be in Judea, and who made mistake after mistake in his dealings with the Jews. Eventually, the emperor called him back to Rome and on the way he disappears from history. Many scholars think he committed suicide to avoid the emperor’s punishment.

But Pilate, as misdirected and conflicted as he is in the story of Good Friday, is not the worst person in the story. In fact, Pilate tries to have Jesus freed numerous times. Pilate knows Jesus is innocent but his main flaw is constantly worrying about what people think of him, giving into the people’s wishes so that no one will report him to Rome (Wright, John for Everyone—Part Two, pg. 121). Because ultimately, that is his biggest concern: WWRT—what will Rome think? How will the empire respond to what he does today? Still, he’s not the worst person in the story, as I said. Or actually it’s Jesus who said that. In the midst of the trial that, in John’s Gospel, is told in great detail, the religious leaders tell Pilate that Jesus claimed to be “the Son of God” (19:7). That’s why, they say, he must die. Now, those words mean something different to Pilate than they do to the religious leaders. To the chief priests, it’s blasphemy. Jesus is claiming to be equal to God. But to Pilate, it’s a political claim. The only one who could claim to be a son of god was Caesar (Card, John: The Gospel of Wisdom, pg. 194). That’s why Pilate goes back in and asks Jesus, “Where do you come from?” (19:9).

John tells us Jesus did not answer Pilate, and a lot of times we think Jesus is just being…maybe stubborn, or maybe he’s given up trying to discount the charges against him…or maybe it’s just that he has very little strength left. He has, after all, been flogged by Pilate’s order, and Roman floggings were more severe than we often imagine. It was done with a collection of heavy leather straps embedded with bone, glass and lead balls, and there was no limit on how many lashes a person would receive. The guideline was that the prisoner would be beaten until his flesh hung from his back. So Jesus is likely not answering Pilate because he is close to going into shock (Card 194-195). Regardless, when Pilate insists Jesus respond because Pilate has all this power over him, Jesus musters up the strength to speak. “You would have no power over me,” Jesus says, “if it were not given to you from above. Therefore the one who handed me over to you is guilty of a greater sin” (19:11).

I don’t know about you, but I seem to have always had this conviction that one sin is not worse (or better) than another. Gluttony is on the same level as murder in God’s eyes, though certainly the two are treated differently in society. But in God’s economy, any sin is a break in relationship, and every sin distances us from God. But Jesus himself here uses that terminology—“a greater sin.” So according to the Son of God (who is a pretty good source), there is something worse than what Pilate is doing. That makes me ask, “What is it? What is the greater sin here?”

First of all, we need to figure out the “who” that has committed said sin. Jesus says it is the “one who handed me over to you” (19:11), and immediately my thoughts go to Judas, the one who betrayed Jesus for thirty pieces of silver. But Judas only handed Jesus over to the Jewish leaders; they were the ones who paid for Jesus’ capture. I don’t know that Judas expected Rome to get involved, but it was the Jewish leaders who handed Jesus over to Rome, to Pilate. Jesus says “the one,” so he could be referring to the head of the Jewish delegation, the high priest Caiaphas (Whitacre, John [IVPNTC], pg. 452), but more likely he’s referring to the national leadership as a whole. So the religious leaders are the “who.”

And the discussion they have with Pilate after this conversation reveals the “what.” There is a repeated appeal to Pilate’s place in the empire. They tell Pilate that if he persists in trying to set Jesus free, he will be no “friend of Caesar” (19:12). We know for certain that a later emperor had a group literally called “Friends of Caesar.” Sort of sounds like a fan club, doesn’t it? If you join it you get a badge and a decoder ring. But in reality it consisted of selected senators, governors, and other leaders who could receive special favors from the emperor. As you might guess, the “Friends of Caesar” consisted pretty much of anyone who was “anyone.” It’s possible such a group existed in the time of Jesus as well, and that Pilate either was a part of this group or was aspiring to be a part. The Jewish leaders threaten him that his actions here, this day, might determine whether or not he is able to either stay as a “friend of Caesar” or become one. They’re saying to Pilate, “Tread lightly. Be careful. Your future will be determined by what you do here today.” How right they were, though not in the way they thought. Either way, that accusation was, in many ways, the deal breaker. Pilate could not win now. He knew Jesus was innocent, but he couldn’t set Jesus free and save face at the same time (cf. Card 195; Whitacre 453).

But the conversation takes another turn even a few verses later, and this is, I think, where we find the “greater sin.” Pilate moves to the place where official judgments are announced to tell the people what he has decided, and he brings Jesus with him. Jesus, beaten to within an inch of his life. Jesus, probably still wearing a purple robe and a crown of thorns. Jesus, who was rejected for release when the crowd chose the insurrectionist Barabbas instead. Jesus, found innocent in a Roman court. Pilate stands Jesus one more time before the religious leaders and says, “Here is your king!” And when they renew their cries of, “Crucify him,” Pilate asks, “Shall I crucify your king?” (Do you see the way Pilate is trying to get out of taking the blame for this act?) Shall I crucify your king? And the chief priests, John says, are the ones who reply: “We have no king but Caesar” (19:13-17).

No king but Caesar. These religious leaders are so bent on destroying Jesus that they deny their own faith. Their own Scriptures repeat over and over again that the only king Israel has is God. Even in the days when they had their own human king, that king served in submission to God, their only king. Every single day, these chief priests would have prayed this prayer: “May you be our King, you alone.” During this very Passover celebration, they would have sung (as they did every year), “From everlasting to everlasting you are God; beside you we have no king, redeemer, or savior, no liberator, deliverer, provider, none who takes pity in every time of distress and trouble; we have no king but you” (Whitacre 456; cf. Wright 123). These same people are now standing in the place of official Roman judgment, denying everything they say they have believed with these simple words: “We have no king but Caesar” (19:17).

They are so intent on rejecting Jesus that they are willing to embrace a pagan kingdom, a government that stands opposed to pretty much everything they are (cf. Wright 123). Who is the world’s true king, true Lord? And the question remains because many people still today don’t want anything to do with a king whose throne is a cross. Our confused world doesn’t understand a savior who dies. They don’t believe they need saving; they can do it on their own, thank you very much. They’ll happily take Good Friday as a day off from work, but they want nothing to do with the Jesus who is at the center of this day. But the religious leaders weren’t part of the world out there. They were the insiders; they were the ones lining the pews and filling the synagogue. They were you and me. So what about us? Are we willing to follow this Jesus even to the cross, even when his plan doesn’t look like what we think it should? Who is truly “king” over our lives? Who or what is it that rules or controls or consumes our lives?

No matter what we choose to be our God, who we choose to be our king, it does not change the reality that Jesus is King and Lord of all, and that one day, as Paul wrote, “at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord” (Philippians 2:10-11). He is the king, whether we acknowledge him or not.

One of my favorite scenes in C. S. Lewis’ children’s book The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe happens early on as the children first hear about Aslan, the great lion and ruler of Narnia. Susan says, “I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion,” to which Mrs. Beaver replies, “If there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most of else just silly.” “Then he isn’t safe?” asks Lucy, and Mr. Beaver speaks up, “Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you” (Lewis 64). A bit later in the story, Aslan gives himself over to the White Witch in order to rescue one of the children, and the Witch kills Aslan, thinking she has won. But what she and the children do not expect is that Aslan comes back to life. When the children ask Aslan how, he says that it was written into the creation of Narnia that “when a willing victim who had committed no treachery as killed in a traitor’s stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backwards” (Lewis 132-133). The first time we read that story, when our kids were young, I will never forget Christopher shooting up and saying, “That’s Jesus!” He got it. The religious leaders didn’t, either on this day or in the days to come. Maybe that’s why Jesus said we have to become like children to follow him (cf. Matthew 18:3). He’s the king, I tell you. He’s not safe, but he’s good.

We must have no king but Jesus, now and forever. To worship anything or anyone else is a greater sin, because he is the only true king of the world and of our lives. Amen.