John 19:8–11

The Gospel writer's remark in verse 8 throws a flood of light on Pilate's situation. Secular history tells us he had made enemies of the Jews early in his governorship. So he was afraid of irritating them further. Yet he was convinced the Prisoner was innocent, and His calm bearing made him even more uneasy. The accusation about "the Son of God" raised fears that were probably superstitious, but powerful all the same. They prompted the question, "Where are you from?"

Pilate had openly declared Jesus innocent. Clear evidence had touched and alarmed his conscience: he had some extraordinary person in front of him. He will not show that he is touched, but he is (John 19:8). The divine glory that shone through the humiliation of Christ acts on him. It gives weight to the Jews' claim that Jesus had made Himself the Son of God.

This further charge makes Pilate the more afraid. He could no doubt see in the Lord a majesty and dignity that seemed to him far above an ordinary man's, and close to the divine. So with fear in his heart, Pilate goes into the judgment hall and asks the Lord, "Where are you from?" Fear prompted the question. But his fear was neither faith nor the result of a sense of need. So the Lord gave Pilate no answer.

If this question had come from real spiritual concern, the Lord would no doubt have answered. He answered the two disciples who asked, "Where are you staying?" in the first chapter of this Gospel. Superstition and fear prompted Pilate's question, so the Lord gave no answer.

The charge that the Lord threatened the world's powers had failed. So His accusers turn to a still more solemn cry: He ought to die, because He made Himself Son of God. And Pilate was the more afraid — but no more ready to go along with their plan. Yet he was the pagan, and they were the ones blaspheming the Hope of Israel, the Holy One of God! Yes, He is going to die. But not for the lies sworn against Him — He dies for the truth of God. That truth is the central truth for man, the object of faith and the one source of eternal life.

Everything that happened as the scene went on strengthened the governor's impression: his wife's dream and her message to him, the obvious malice of the Jews, and above all the righteous, guiltless Prisoner. Though in shame and suffering, He still insisted that He was the Son of God. All of it assailed his conscience. But the world in Pilate's heart was too strong for these convictions. They made a noise in his heart, it is true. But the voice of the world won, and he went its way, though his conscience had convicted him. Had he been able to keep the world for himself, he would gladly have kept Jesus too.

Pilate was not the last to go along with what was wrong for the sake of worldly gain. Such a course may look successful at the time. In the end it very often turns out badly for the person. Conscience, at some point, will speak and make itself heard.

Poor Pilate! What was he to do? His prisoner, he was told, declared Himself to be the Son of God. The governor therefore became more afraid... Roman law gave Pilate no way to act on such a charge against his prisoner. Even so, the accusation might well make him pause. Was the Lord's claim true? Was He indeed the Son of God? A heathen could understand that it would be no light matter to put to death someone who was divine. To risk the vengeance of the Son of God — who in their senses would do that?... He Himself, who knew where He was from, was now silent. He had answered earlier questions.

Fear, however, is not faith. In Pilate it was no more than a vague dread of the mysterious Man on trial. He also had a strong sense that the hatred against Him had no cause, except in their own fierce will. So he enters his palace again and asks, "Where are You from?" He gets no answer, and, stung by that, he boasts of his authority to release Him or to crucify Him. The Lord did not answer the first question. Its motive was no better than curiosity, with no fear of God or love for Him behind it. But He replied to the second in terms worthy of His Person, in fullness of grace and truth.

He goes again into the judgment hall and asks Jesus where He was from. Where was the judge now? Jesus does not answer him, since Pilate had publicly owned that Jesus was not guilty. It was not a question of instructing Pilate. He was not looking for instruction. Faced with the silence of Jesus, he appeals to his authority and his power over Him.

Why did he not release Him at once? Because Pilate had made himself the victim of his own wavering. Troubled, he asked the Lord, "Where are You from?" Again, for a judge this question is beside the point. The Lord did not answer.

If this question had come from real spiritual searching, the Lord would surely have answered it. In the first chapter of this Gospel two disciples asked Him, "Where are You staying?" and He responded. Since it came from superstition and fear, the Lord gave no answer... What then was the answer to Pilate's unanswered question? Surely that Jesus Himself was "from above." He came from the very Source of Pilate's authority.

Isaiah 53:7 emphasises His silence before His accusers. When men are oppressed and treated unjustly, protest is natural and usual. His silence went against all experience, and the Gospels note it — Matthew 27:11-14; Mark 15:3-4; Luke 23:9; John 19:9. A sheep really is silent before its shearers. Anyone can see it today by standing and watching the shearers at work. But He was not like a sheep being sheared. He was more like a lamb led to the slaughter. He was indeed "the Lamb of God," as John the Baptist proclaimed, yet no word of protest escaped His lips.

At the end He stood before the Jew or the Gentile — before the priests, or Pilate, or Herod. In His silence, His refusal to answer at all, we can trace the same perfect fitness that we trace in His words and His answers. It witnesses to God that at least One among the sons of men knew "a time to keep silence, and a time to speak."

This further charge makes Pilate even more afraid. No doubt he could see in the Lord a majesty and dignity that seemed to him far above that of an ordinary man, and close to the divine. So with fear in his heart, Pilate enters the judgment hall and asks the Lord, "Where are you from?" Fear prompted the question. But his fear was not faith, and it did not come from any sense of need. So the Lord gave Pilate no answer.

It was a shattering situation for Pilate. Without knowing it, he stood in the presence of the Word become flesh. So what was the answer to his unanswered question? It was that Jesus Himself came "from above," from the very Source of Pilate's authority.

The Jews admitted to Pilate that they did not have this authority: "It is not lawful for us to put anyone to death" (John 18:31). This authority was in the hands of the Roman governor. His words to his Just and Holy prisoner were proud and insulting. Jesus did not deny this authority. He traced it to its true source — not to his imperial master at Rome, but to the Sovereign Ruler of all... No one abused this judicial authority more openly than Pilate, the representative of the Roman empire. He was too weak to resist the will of the Jews. He freed Barabbas the criminal, whom he should have executed for murder, and condemned Jesus the Benefactor to be crucified.

This irritated Pilate. Once more he made unjust use of his judicial authority to frighten the Lord. He spoke as if he were the final authority on who should be released and who should be crucified. But in fact, the only authority he had was to judge justly, according to the evidence.

Pilate had no real power against Him at all. If he believed that He was the Son of God — and there was at least fear in his conscience — then he was helping the devil's work against the Son of God. In any case, he could see that the Jews were acting from hypocrisy and envy.

Did the Lord acknowledge the authority of the Roman judge? Yes. In His ways God had put that disobedient people under the yoke of Rome. The Lord had said to them, "Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's," so He would not treat the authority of Caesar's representative with contempt. But God was over all, and Pilate could do nothing that day except what God allowed from above. God was not responsible for the black flood of hatred pouring out from the hearts of the Jews. Nor was He responsible for the lesser sin of the wavering judge, who was ready to stoop to any injustice to save his face. But He did make Himself responsible for the channel in which the sin of Jew and Gentile flowed.

This answer is perfectly wise. It owns responsibility in the same breath with God's sovereignty, and yet keeps each exactly in its place. It is as though He had said: God has allowed this. He allowed them to have power. But they have used that power to have their own way. It is clear that it is their own way, and not God's. So God marks the various steps in guilt.

Having received the power from God, he was responsible to God for the exercise of it. And how did he use it? In condemning God's Son.