The Lord has given us four eyewitness accounts of Jesus’ life, and each provides us additional details of what occurred on the Friday of Jesus’ death. The unison of this four-fold gospel helps us to harmonize the gospel accounts to reconstruct the events on that Good Friday morning. As we continue our study in the gospel of John, we resume our study in the midst of Jesus’ trial before Pilate—but the trial before Pilate occurs in two phases. On that early Friday morning, Jesus is brought before Pilate by the religious leaders, urging the Roman governor to authorize Jesus’ execution. However, Pilate shows hesitancy in complying with their demands and takes it upon himself to interview Jesus privately. After examining him, Pilate comes out to the religious leaders and announces Jesus’ innocence for the first time. He says in John 18:38: “I find no guilt in him.”
Most likely, after John 18:38, Luke’s account of Jesus being handed over to Herod Antipas for judgment took place. When Pilate heard that Jesus was from Galilee, he thought he could pass him off to Herod’s jurisdiction and escape this politically volatile and vulnerable situation. However, Herod passes Jesus back over to Pilate after he also declares Jesus innocent of the charges. I suspect the second phase of Jesus’ trial before Pilate in John’s gospel occurs in John 18:39, where Pilate offers to release Jesus according to the tradition at Passover. But instead, the crowd demands the release of Barabbas. By the start of John 19, Pilate finds himself in the difficult position of satisfying a bloodthirsty crowd demanding Jesus’ execution, whom he regards as innocent and keeping the peace he’s been ordered to keep. As John 19 opens, we see Pilate attempting to solve this conundrum. How can he preserve Jesus’ life and yet placate this mob?
However, as John recounts these events, he draws our attention to the repeated dramatic irony. Jesus is mockingly presented as a king, nevertheless, while actually being the king. In John chapters 18 and 19, the term king occurs twelve times. Jesus is king over all, but he is a king despised and rejected. As Pilate navigates these tensions, he will eventually concede to authorize Jesus’ death by crucifixion. But John wants us to keep our eyes on the King of kings who is (1) mocked, (2) examined, and (3) sentenced to death.
1. The King Mocked (vv. 1–5)
As John 19 begins, we witness in the opening verses the beating and mockery of Jesus by the Roman soldiers. Let us look at those verses:
“Then Pilate took Jesus and flogged him. And the soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head and arrayed him in a purple robe. They came up to him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” and struck him with their hands. Pilate went out again and said to them, “See, I am bringing him out to you that you may know that I find no guilt in him.” So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. Pilate said to them, “Behold the man!”” (John 19:1–5, ESV)
Two questions come to our mind upon reading these verses. First, why did Pilate order his flogging? And second, why did Pilate order the flogging before Jesus was sentenced to crucifixion? Concerning the first question, Pilate orders Jesus to be flogged, despite deeming him innocent, as a means to appease the crowd. A righteous ruler would have immediately released and protected Jesus without a beating, but the shrewd, pragmatic Pilate hoped that through the punishment of Jesus, he might preserve Jesus’ life. Perhaps seeing him beaten would satisfy the demands of the religious leaders for action with a weaker sentence. Maybe if they saw Jesus so weak and frail from his beating, they might pity him. This is just as Luke’s gospel records in Luke 23:16, where Pilate says he will “punish and release” Jesus.
But the timing of the flogging also raises some questions. In Matthew and Mark’s gospel, the flogging occurred after Jesus had been sentenced to crucifixion. But in John’s gospel, the flogging occurs before Pilate sentences him to death. However, the difficulty is easily resolved with some knowledge of Roman flogging. The Romans administered three intensities of flogging: fustigatio, flagellation, and verberatio. Fustigatiowas a lighter beating, administered as a warning reserved for unruly behavior and light offenses. The flagellation was a brutal flogging given to criminals who committed more serious offenses. But the most horrific form of beating was verberatio which was always associated with more capital punishments like crucifixion.1
As we look at the account of John’s gospel, it becomes clear that Jesus endured two different floggings—the first occurred in verse 1 and the second in verse 16 (as recorded in Matthew and Mark). Jesus endured one of the lesser floggings—either fustigatio or flagellation—as an act of punishment as Pilate’s attempt to pacify the religious leaders. But when Jesus is eventually sentenced to crucifixion, he receives a second beating of the dreaded verberatio—the dreaded Romans scourge. In this final beating, the victim was stripped and tied to a post. According to Jewish law, lashes were limited to a maximum of “forty lashes minus one.” But the Romans had no such rules. The soldiers mercilessly beat the victim until the soldiers grew tired or were commanded to stop. The Romans’ favorite whip involved leather strips fitted with bone or metal to strip the flesh off the back. The brutality of these beatings is difficult for us to imagine. Ancient writers such as Eusebius, Josephus, and Cicero tell us that the scourging typically meant flaying flesh to the bone. Eusebius recounts martyrs who “were torn by scourged down to deep-seated veins and arteries, so that the hidden contents of the recesses of their bodies, the entrails and organs were exposed to sight.”2 So, the passage before us opens up with a lighter flogging in verse 1 and ends in verse 16, when the scourge would have occurred. No wonder, then, Jesus could not carry his cross! And no wonder then that Jesus did not live long hung upon that cross. He was nearly dead by the time they hammered the nails into his hands.
Roman soldiers were known for their brutality and mockery, and they took every opportunity to do so when it came to Jesus. After beating Christ, they twisted together a crown of thorns and placed it on his head. They draped an old purple robe over him to enact a parody of devotion. They called out to him, “Hail, King of the Jews!” All the while, they struck him and punched him. Having “punished” Jesus, Pilate brought Jesus back to the people in verse 4 to reassert (now for the second time) that he has found no guilt in Jesus. Then, Pilate brought out the man charged as “The King of the Jews” with his crown of thorns and purple robe in verse 5, announcing, “Behold the man!”
John invites us to notice several layers of irony in these verses. The soldiers are thugs, and their violence and jeers at Jesus are dishonorable and disgusting. Yet, they speak the truth. Though they disdain Jesus, they, ironically, speak rightly about Jesus. They imitate the “Hail, Caesar” of the Roman citizen and apply it to Jesus, “Hail, King of the Jews!” Here, gentile soldiers mockingly pledge allegiance to the king of the Jews. Because Jesus is the King of the Jews. He is the promised Son of David, the fulfillment of the Davidic covenant, the forever king whose kingdom will know no end. And he is not just the King of the Jews. He is the King of all nations. And what these soldiers mock in jest is the truth. The one they punch in the gut and strike in the face is the king, whose authority exceeds Caesar. The one they strike is not only the King of the Jews but their king, too. As they deride him, strangely enough, they speak rightly.
And that’s another irony in this text: it is out of the mouths of pagan Romans that speak rightly of Jesus, so frequently calling him “The King of the Jews,” while the Jews openly deny him as their king. Even by mockery, the Gentiles speak more rightly than the Jews in this text. It is the Gentiles who speak correctly about Jesus, while Jesus’ very own people are the ones who deny him. John shows us precisely what he told us to anticipate in his prologue: “He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him” (John 1:11).
But if we expand our understanding of these events in light of the entire canon of Scripture, we can notice even more irony. Ever since man’s fall into sin in Genesis 3, we have awaited the man, the one born of woman, who would crush the head of the serpent. Since then, we anticipated the ruler who would come and undo the curse of sin. As Scripture progresses, the Lord tells us that the deliverer will come through the lineage of Seth, through Shem, through Abraham, through Isaac, through Jacob, through Judah, and through David. All of Scripture anticipates the answer to the question, “Who is the man? Who is the serpent crusher? Who is the one who will liberate us from the curse of sin?”
As Jesus, the incarnate Son of God, the promised one born of woman, is beaten and bruised with a crown symbolizing Adam’s sin—a crown of thorn and thistles atop his head—Pilate speaks more than he knows: “Behold the man!” The man all of Scripture has told us to anticipate, the King of Israel and the hope of all humanity, is identified not by the Jewish religious leaders but by a mocking, Gentile Roman governor and his soldiers.
We would be wise to listen to Pilate’s words here, though he knows not what he says. Look at Jesus! Here is the new man. Here is God-enfleshed who has come down from heaven to rescue sinners. All of Scripture points to him and finds its hope in him. There is much to study and learn when you first start studying the Bible, but we must never forget that the aim of God’s redemptive plan crescendos in his Son. As Pilate identifies him, as the soldiers mock him, and as the Jews yell for his crucifixion—it is this man that all our hopes are penned, that the promise of forgiveness of sins depends, and that the reverse of sin’s curse relies. Behold Jesus! Look at him! Salvation is found by looking at Jesus, beholding his glory, and putting your faith in him.
In a twisted way, Pilate presents Jesus and invites Israel to “Behold the man!” The Christ is offered before his people, and how will they respond? Will they receive him by faith or reject him?
But Pilate hoped that his punishment of Jesus would appease the crowd. He’s mocking the Jews, yes. But in the parade of mockery, Pilate exerts his power over Jesus and demonstrates that this man charged with being “king of the Jews” is no threat to Caesar. Perhaps he even hopes that seeing Jesus beaten will elicit the crowd’s sympathy for one of their own. Pilate is doing everything he can think of to preserve the peace and avoid the need to execute Jesus. His first attempt at releasing Jesus didn’t work because the people demanded Barabbas’ release. And so Pilate hopes that his punishment of Jesus will calm their bloodlust. However, to Pilate’s surprise, his actions only agitate further the people’s cry for crucifixion. So now we’ve seen the king mocked. Next, we will see the king examined in verses 6–11.
2. The King Examined (vv. 6–11)
While Pilate hoped that Jesus’ punishment would pacify the crowd, stir their compassion, and relent in their demand for his death, the opposite occurred. Perhaps the Roman mockery of dressing Jesus up like a king struck a nerve, or they so hated Jesus that they could not be satisfied by anything but execution. But as we continue reading verse six, we hear the cry for crucifixion.
“When the chief priests and the officers saw him, they cried out, “Crucify him, crucify him!” Pilate said to them, “Take him yourselves and crucify him, for I find no guilt in him.” The Jews answered him, “We have a law, and according to that law he ought to die because he has made himself the Son of God.” When Pilate heard this statement, he was even more afraid. He entered his headquarters again and said to Jesus, “Where are you from?” But Jesus gave him no answer. So Pilate said to him, “You will not speak to me? Do you not know that I have authority to release you and authority to crucify you?” Jesus answered him, “You would have no authority over me at all unless it had been given you from above. Therefore he who delivered me over to you has the greater sin.”” (John 19:6–11, ESV)
John notes that “the chief priests and the officers” lead the charge demanding Jesus’ crucifixion. They chant the words—“Crucify him, crucify him!” It’s haunting to hear Israel’s leadership clamor for this brutal, horrific, and accursed form of capital punishment. The brutal Romans had mastered the art of torture, and crucifixion was their masterpiece. Its brutality, its public shame, its excruciating pain, its slow, suffocating death—all of its torment reserved for the very vilest of criminals. But the Jewish leaders, who knew their Scriptures so well, knew the words for Deuteronomy 21:23—cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree. By crying for his crucifixion, these leaders are not only calling for Jesus to lose his life, but they are damning his soul.
These conspirators are cunning and have expertly manipulated the case to try to force Pilate’s hand to authorize Jesus’ execution for treason. They have twisted his messianic claim and presented Jesus as a rival king of Caesar, an insurrectionist who deserves a violent Roman death. Pilate hesitates because he recognizes this is a religious disagreement, not a political one. After all, Jesus had just told him that “his kingdom is not of this world.” Jesus, as Pilate has examined him, bears no threat as a political revolutionary. But the master manipulators lose their masks for a brief moment.
As Pilate hears the cry for crucifixion, he is shocked and appalled at the request. With incredulity, Pilate protests, “Take him yourselves and crucify him, for I find no guilt in him.” This is now the third time Pilate has asserted Jesus’ innocence in John’s gospel. Pilate knows that they can’t take Jesus and crucify without him, but he raises his voice as an act of protest, as a way of trying to push back on this irrational mob. And it is in verse seven where the Jews, perhaps in the furry of the moment, expose their true hearts. They go off script, and they deviate from their plan. And they speak plainly about why they want Jesus dead, which has nothing to do with being a threat to the Romans. They want Jesus dead because they judge him as a blasphemer. Look at verse 7: “We have a law, and according to that law he ought to die because he has made himself the Son of God.”
Their ruse to manipulate Pilate to authorize Jesus’ execution is revealed as a lie. This isn’t a political matter but a spiritual one. They want Jesus dead because they believe him to be a heretic. Most likely, the text they have in mind here comes from Leviticus 24:16, “Whoever blasphemes the name of the LORD shall surely be put to death.” In their minds, Jesus has so clearly stated his deity as the Son of God that they believe he is blaspheming God. It’s interesting to note that by wanting to execute Jesus for blasphemy, it verifies that Jesus was clear about who he said he was. Throughout his ministry, he has made repeated claims of not only being the messiah born of David but also the eternal Son of God. His enemies understood him plainly, but they believed him to be speaking blasphemy. But Jesus was not lying. He is the Son of God. He is God in the flesh. Jesus is the complete revelation of God, who has come to reveal to us the Father. But the intensity by which they pursue his death shows that they believe Jesus to be dangerous, influential, and a threat to their own power. Either way, their true motives are revealed. They are manipulating Rome to step into their religious squabble to execute who they reckon to be a heretic.
With the mask dropped Pilate hears their true conflict with Jesus for the first time and has a peculiar reaction. When he hears that Jesus “made himself the Son of God,” verse eight tells us that Pilate “was even more afraid.” Why was Pilate “even more afraid”? Well, Pilate was already a little uneasy about this case because he sensed it to be a powder keg. The shrapnel could very well damage his political career. Similarly, in Matthew 27, we are told that his wife’s dream had disturbed him, warning him to have nothing to do with this righteous man. But what provoked “even more” fear in Pilate was the possibility that he had just authorized the beating and mockery of a divine being. Remember, Pilate was a pagan Roman. He lives in a world of multiple gods and demigods known to take human form to toy with humanity. He fears he may have angered whatever god Jesus might be, triggering the sort of mythological accounts he had heard from Homer or Virgil. Pilate knew those stories all too well, and if Jesus was some “son of God,” however Pilate understood the term, he didn’t want to have a god as his enemy.
Of course, even with Pilate’s pagan misapprehension, it’s the gentile Roman governor who is properly struck with fear of Jesus as God. As we know, Jesus is the Son of God! The polytheistic paganism of Pilate is ridiculous. But here, a powerful Roman governor trembles with fear while the Jewish people call out for Jesus’ crucifixion without fear.
But Pilate, struck with terror over what he has done, pulls Jesus into his headquarters for further examination. Now that he knows there is something more to Jesus than just an innocent man accused of political revolution, he needs to figure out where he has come from. So Pilate asks him in verse 9: “Where are you from?” And, of course, that is a loaded question in John’s gospel. Jesus’ origins have been a recurring theme in this gospel. He has come down from heaven. He is from above. He is the eternal Son of God who has condescended and taken on our humanity. But as Pilate asks the question, Jesus gives no response. Pilate is asking a loaded theological question he is unprepared to hear. Jesus had already attempted to invite him into a conversation about the truth in John 18:37, but Pilate brushed Jesus’ talk of truth off, uninterested in engaging the conversation—“What is truth?” So what could Jesus say to him now? D. A. Carson comments, “What answer, long or brief, could Jesus have provided for the Roman prefect who displays superstitious fear but no remorse, who… still struts on the stage of human power but is enslaved by the political threats of his frenzied opposition?”3 So Jesus doesn’t answer. In this, John sees a fulfillment of the suffering servant song in Isaiah 53: “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth” (Isa 53:7). Jesus gave Pilate no answer.
But Jesus’ silence seems to anger an exasperated Pilate, floundering in knowing what to do about Jesus. Fears unrelieved have a way of pivoting to anger. In the original language, the Greek emphasizes the pronoun “me” by giving it first place in the sentence order. We can paraphrase it as Pilate saying, “Don’t you know who I am? How dare you not speak to me?” Pilate reckons Jesus’ silence baffling. Not only does he perceive Jesus’ silence as disrespectful to his absolute authority over the case, but Jesus’ silence is stupidity in his view. Why would Jesus not speak up to the one man who can save his life? Pilate reiterates to Jesus the power of his position and tells Jesus, “Do you not know that I have authority to release you and authority to crucify you?” Jesus’ life is in Pilate’s hands—at least, that’s how Pilate sees it.
While Pilate considers his authority supreme, the one he examines possesses all authority in heaven and earth. Pilate has no authority other than what he has been given from above. Caesar gave Pilate his authority. And who placed Caesar in his seat of power? Is it not the Lord God, the maker of heaven and earth? So Jesus responds to Pilate, reminding him of his inferiority. In fact, God is enacting his sovereign plan of redemption through the sins of men in authority. So Jesus responds in verse 11: “You would have no authority over me at all unless it had been given you from above. Therefore he who delivered me over to you has the greater sin.” Pilate’s authority is delegated authority. His emperor put him into his office, and ultimately, he was placed by God himself. Paul states in Romans, “There is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God” (Rom 13:1). So Jesus reminds Pilate of his place, humbling him to recognize that he has no authority other than what he’s been given. And even here, Jesus tacitly answers Pilate’s questions about his origins. Where does Jesus come from? He comes from above. Pilate has authority over Jesus to sentence him to death, but Pilate has no authority other than the authority Jesus has given him.
As we know, Pilate will use his God-given authority to commit the atrocity of handing Jesus over to be crucified. Rather than exercising justice, Pilate will become complicit in the injustice of the religious leaders. Pilate will sin in his use of authority by permitting Jesus’ execution. Yet, Pilate’s sin, though still sin, is of lesser severity. Jesus tells him, “He who delivered me over to you has the greater sin.” Who does Jesus have in mind here? Well, it’s uncertain, but it’s most likely Caiaphas, the high priest. He was the one who determined that one man should die for the people and has been one of the chief architects of this conspiracy to murder Jesus. While Pilate will sin by the passive permission of Jesus’ execution, Caiaphas committed the greater sin in his active push for Jesus’ execution. Both Pilate and Caiaphas will sin in their use of authority, but Caiaphas has the greater sin.
But I think John also wants us to think about Judas here as well. Within the literary context of the book, which has focused so much on Judas’ betrayal, the reader recalls Judas’ greater sin of handing Jesus over to Caiaphas. Pilate had no idea who Judas was; after all, Judas was just a bit player in the dramatic conspiracy enacted by Caiaphas. But as readers of this gospel, we can also read in Jesus’ words a call back to Judas’ betrayal and the greater sin of one of Jesus’ very own disciples delivering Jesus over to death.
Jesus’ words here invite us to consider again the sovereignty of God over his death. Whether it be the wickedness of Judas, the active abuse of authority by Caiaphas, or the passive complicity of Pilate, through the sins of wicked men, God is accomplishing his purpose of redemption. Judas, Caiaphas, and Pilate will each bear the guilt of their sin. They are each responsible for their wretched actions. But the Lord uses the sins of each man to bring his Son to the cross. Through the evil actions of wicked men, the Lord will bring salvation and redemption to his people.
As we read of the chaotic fray of shouts for Jesus’ crucifixion, we must recognize that the sovereign will of God is coming to pass. Though each actor is morally responsible for their sinful actions, the will of God for our salvation is being accomplished. Jesus is voluntarily laying down his life. Caiaphas and Pilate each attained their position of power by the will of God. And through their wickedness, they will nail Jesus to the cross to be a substitute for sinners.
So, Pilate is morally culpable here. He will give an account for his actions, but his relative passivity in the abuse of his authority is of a lesser degree than those active conspirators like Caiaphas who push for Jesus’ death. After this examination with Jesus, I doubt Pilate received solace from his fears. But Pilate is now determined to try and release Jesus. However, ironically, it is the threat of his authority from above, namely, Caesar, that compels Pilate’s hand to sentence Jesus to crucifixion.
3. The King Sentenced (vv. 12–16)
Pilate has insisted on Jesus’ innocence on three different occasions. He’s done every maneuver he can think of to try to protect Jesus from death—even if it meant beating and mocking him. However, the crowd will not relent. And with renewed resolve, as Pilate comes out to order Jesus’ release, the Jews play a hand that forces Pilate to fold. Look at verses 12 and 13:
“From then on Pilate sought to release him, but the Jews cried out, “If you release this man, you are not Caesar’s friend. Everyone who makes himself a king opposes Caesar.” So when Pilate heard these words, he brought Jesus out and sat down on the judgment seat at a place called The Stone Pavement, and in Aramaic Gabbatha.” (John 19:12–13, ESV)
The Jews make a veiled threat to Pilate. If Pilate permitted this Jesus, whom they reckoned an insurrectionist and threat to the empire, then Pilate would not be a friend of Caesar. They threaten to go above his head and report to Caesar that Pilate is such a disloyal governor that he permits known rebels who threaten Caesar’s rule back on the streets. Tiberius Caesar had a reputation for quickly believing any whiff of disloyalty from his subordinates and would bring ruthless punishment on those who betrayed him.4 There are some indications in the historical record that Pilate was already on thin ice with Caesar. If the Jewish leadership reported that Pilate released a rival king to Caesar, his career was over—nay, not just his career but his life. It was a shrewd tactic by the religious leaders that compelled Pilate to give in to their demands. Pilate chooses self-preservation over justice. Ironically, the threat of the authority above him, Tiberius Caesar, caused him to cave into the pressure of the Jewish religious leaders beneath him.
And so Pilate prepares for the official sentencing of Jesus. He comes to the judgment seat, the Stone Pavement, to pronounce his judgment. John sets up this scene meticulously because this is where the world will give its official judgment on Jesus. We have witnessed the tension and conflict of the world concerning Jesus throughout this gospel. But here, with Jews and Gentiles gathered before Pilate, the world will announce its definitive judgment on Jesus. The one whom the Father has given all judgment will be judged now by the world he has made. And how will the world judge Jesus? We know the answer before Pilate pronounces it. The gospel of John has foreshadowed this moment:
“And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil” (John 3:19).
“He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him.” (John 1:10–11)
And not only John but the prophets anticipate the messiah’s rejection:
“He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.” (Isaiah 53:3)
The one who has come to save the world will be condemned by the world. But it will be through the world’s condemnation that Christ accomplishes our salvation. In verse 14, as the sentence is given, John establishes the context as a way of reminder:
“Now it was the day of Preparation of the Passover. It was about the sixth hour. He said to the Jews, “Behold your King!”” (John 19:14, ESV)
That Friday was the preparation day of the Passover Sabbath. It’s close to noon. Even as the world judges Jesus, John reminds us that Jesus goes to the cross as our Passover lamb. Though Jesus’ execution is a horrific injustice, his death is a sacrifice for sin on behalf of sinners like us. Each year since Egypt, Israel observed the Passover. But all those years, they participated in a shadow. Now, the substance has come. The Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world has arrived—Jesus, the innocent, holy, and righteous Son of God. And this unblemished lamb is judged by the world so that he might sacrifice his life for our sin. Our king is our sacrifice. And as Pilate sits in his position of authority, with Jesus on the stone pavement of judgment, Pilate presents the sacrifice. Again, he speaks more than he knew—“Behold your King!”
“They cried out, “Away with him, away with him, crucify him!” Pilate said to them, “Shall I crucify your King?” The chief priests answered, “We have no king but Caesar.” So he delivered him over to them to be crucified.” (John 19:15–16, ESV)
As Pilate presents Jesus, he presents Jesus as the king to irritate the crowds. Pilate has nothing but disdain for the Jews who are forcing his hand to authorize this execution. And Pilate delights in provoking them. Pilate insisted on calling Jesus “The King of the Jews,” even though the Jews protested. In John 19:21, when Pilate writes the inscription of the charge on the cross, the Jews tell Pilate, “Do not write, ‘The King of the Jews,’ but rather, ‘This man said, I am King of the Jews.’” But Pilate will keep calling Jesus “the king of the Jews” not because he believes it but because it irritates them. And as Pilate mocks the Jews, he speaks the truth.
And as he presents King Jesus to his people, he presents a Passover lamb for the sacrifice. The chaotic bloodlust of the crowd now boils into a frenzy. They cried out, “Away with him, away with him, crucify him!” The one whom Israel has long awaited they now condemn to death. And as they cry out for Jesus’ crucifixion, Pilate goads them with the question, “Shall I crucify your King?” The religious leaders, who wanted to murder Jesus for what they considered blasphemy, committed their own blasphemy as the chief priests responded, “We have no king but Caesar.” Israel has abandoned her God and rejected her messiah all to submit themselves to Caesar’s yoke. They will happily speak blasphemy if it means Jesus’ death. And so Pilate sentences Jesus to crucifixion. He hands Jesus over to be crucified.
Our passage that began with the lighter flogging of Jesus as a punishment now ends with the deadly flogging of the Roman scourge. We start, and we end with the image of Jesus being beaten to a pulp. We see his sufferings. We feel his wounds. We are horrified by his lashes. And yet, his sufferings will only increase as he will carry that cross and be nailed to it at Golgotha. There, he will be crucified.
Amidst all the chaos we have seen in this passage, amidst all the horror of the injustice and the suffering Jesus experienced, we must ask—what was it all for? The sufferings of Christ can trigger our tears. Our compassion stirs for him. But we must remember that Jesus goes to the cross as a substitute for our sins. In great love for us, Jesus endures the horrors of the cross for our sake. He is condemned by the world so that we might not be condemned before God. He is sentenced to death so that all who trust him will be sentenced to life. Christ is condemned by the world so that we, by faith, can be justified before God!
As Pilate presents Jesus as the king before his people in mocking, so do I invite you with grave seriousness to behold your king! Jesus is the king. He is God enfleshed. Behold him! He is the king to whom we all must show allegiance, but he is the king we have all rejected. He deserves our worship, but we have given him our scorn. He deserves our obedience, but we have all disobeyed his commands. Like Israel, every one of us has gone our own way. We have scoffed at the Word of God and rejected Jesus’ authority over us.
What makes this passage so gut-wrenching to our souls is not only Christ’s sufferings but our contributions to those sufferings. The hymn recalls, “Ashamed I hear my mocking voice, call out among the scoffers!” Through our sin, we join the voices of those who demand Jesus’ crucifixion. In the suffering of our savior, we see our shame.
Hanging on the wall in my office is a copy of Rembrandt’s The Raising of the Cross. The master of shadow and light captures the darkness of that Friday when Jesus was nailed to the cross. Many famous artists have captured the crucifixion of Christ, but what makes Rembrandt’s so unique? While many miss it at first glance, Rembrandt’s The Raising of the Cross is actually a self-portrait. As the soldiers raise the cross, right in the middle of the canvas, Rembrandt painted a peculiar, renaissance-looking man in a blue hat, assisting the soldiers as they lift Jesus on the cross. And that man in the center of the frame is Rembrandt himself. The artist paints himself as a participant in the raising of the cross. By doing so, Rembrandt confesses his complicity in the death of Christ.
I keep the painting in my office as a reminder of my own sin and my own need before the Lord. One unique temptation for preachers is that we can grow so familiar with the gospel we preach that we can begin to act like we are distant from it. Even as I herald the gospel of Jesus Christ to you week in and week out, this gospel is not just for you but for me. I am no neutral observer of Christ’s crucifixion—but it is my wicked voice shouting among the crowds and these wretched hands who helped raise that cross. This gospel is not some abstract event from history but a bleak reminder of my horrific sin, my wretchedness before God, and my just condemnation. But it is also a reminder to me of God’s mercy, his steadfast love, and his lavish grace upon a sinner like me.
Every one of us is a sinner, and every one of us is complicit with the condemnation of Jesus. By our sin, we joined in the world’s condemnation of Jesus. We have rejected God’s king to make ourselves king. But the great hope of the gospel is that “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8).
As Roman soldiers mock the Lord Jesus, as Pilate examines him, and as he is sentenced to death—Christ is condemned for us. The Lord Jesus chooses to die for ungodly sinners like us. God is showing his great love for the world as his Son is condemned by the world. Sinners though we are, Christ died for us!
Pilate, more than he knew, gave us the right exhortations. “Behold the man!” “Behold your king!” And indeed, that is what our response to this text must be today. In all his sufferings, we must look upon the Lord Jesus Christ for our salvation. Oh, sinner, look at the great demonstration of Christ’s love. Look at his condemnation and his suffering! Look at his rejection and pain! Behold your king! For he goes to the cross for our sake! He is condemned in your place for our redemption! See the Son of God lifted up! “And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life” (John 3:14–15). Look upon him and believe. Repent of your sin this day, and put your faith in the Lord Jesus Christ for your salvation. He is sentenced to death and sent to the cross so that we, by faith, might live in him.
Community Group Questions
What was most memorable from the sermon this week?
What does Pilate mean when he says, “Behold the man!”? How is Jesus the man for whom all of Scripture has awaited?
Why was Pilate struck with fear? Why was Jesus silent?
How is the Lord using the actions of sinful men to accomplish the redemption of his people in the crucifixion of Christ?
How do we, as sinners, reject Christ just like the crowd? How are we complicit in his crucifixion?
What should our response be to the sufferings of Christ? What does it mean to behold him?
D. A. Carson, The Gospel according to John, The Pillar New Testament Commentary (Leicester, England; Grand Rapids, MI: Inter-Varsity Press; W.B. Eerdmans, 1991), 597. ↩︎
Leon Morris, The Gospel according to John, The New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1995), 699. ↩︎
D. A. Carson, The Gospel according to John, The Pillar New Testament Commentary (Leicester, England; Grand Rapids, MI: Inter-Varsity Press; W.B. Eerdmans, 1991), 600. ↩︎
D. A. Carson, The Gospel according to John, The Pillar New Testament Commentary (Leicester, England; Grand Rapids, MI: Inter-Varsity Press; W.B. Eerdmans, 1991), 602. ↩︎