Friends Like These...

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Pilate was a politically savvy person. He knew how the game was played. He knew who to please and whom to support. It had served him well. After all, here he was the governor of a Roman territory. Granted, it was not as choice an appointment as others. Still, it was his. If he could maintain his friendship with Caesar he might get a better placement somewhere else.


Friendship was, of course, what it was all about. Friendship with the right people could take your far while friendship with the wrong people could – well, let’s just say it could cost you everything.

It was a matter of one hand washing the other. Your value as a friend was tied to what you could do for someone else and who you knew. The closer someone was to power and authority the more useful they were as a friend. It paid to get friendly with those in power. They were the ones who could keep you from getting killed.

That is why this pitiful man called Jesus unnerved him so. It was like he had no idea how the game was played. Even worse, it was as if he didn’t care. It was almost like he had his own rules. For this Jesus it was as if the power and authority which Pilate wielded meant nothing. If he realized the favor that Pilate could do for him maybe then he would change his tune.

Now the priests, those were men Pilate could understand. He didn’t necessarily like them, but he understood them. They knew how the game was played, always balancing their need for friendship with Rome with their desire for position and power. Of course, as a people the Jews had mastered this early on. Playing both sides against each other, they had drawn Rome into a larger conflict with their other enemies.

Under their great high priest, Jonathan, the Jewish people had sent an embassy to Rome, winning the title “Friend”. Since then, they had milked it for whatever benefit they could.

This Jesus though, who were his friends; definitely no one in power? What little Pilate had seen of him had nearly convinced him that Jesus was of no real threat to the power of Caesar in that region. He may have called himself king but king of what; a helpless rabble of losers, lepers, whores, tax collectors, widows, orphans and blind men? You can’t field much of an army with the deaf and lame. What was there to gain from friendship with people like these? It was like he was the one doing all of the giving.

Pilate tried reasoning with him. If only he would just play the game Pilate would extend his friendship to him and give him a pardon. Of course, once Jesus was his client he would owe him. It might be convenient to have somebody like this be in your debt. After all, if he had the priests this riled up…

But he would not play the game! Or, at least, not the way Pilate expected. When he offered him the protection of his authority Jesus threw it back on him saying that he didn’t have any power over him except for that which had come to him from above. Who was he talking about, Caesar? Did he know someone in the Senate? Surely he couldn’t mean that superstition the Jews called their god? He didn’t even have a statue!

It was as if Jesus was claiming to have more authority than Pilate. At least, it seemed as if he was tolerating Pilate out of deference to this “higher power” he spoke of. It was as if the whole world had changed and the way things had always worked was passing away. Was he losing his mind?

No, this man he saw before him was nobody with friends who mattered. That could be shown by the way that the real power brokers had set him up. He was just another frustrated religious freak who had come in from the wilderness full of dreams, visions and talk of a kingdom to come. He was sure that the flogging had cured him and his followers of that.

But those priests, they wouldn’t let it go and they knew right where to hit Pilate. Once again, they challenged his friendship with Caesar. Friendship with power is a tenuous thing at best but for someone like Pilate it could be even more fragile. To tell him that he was no friend of Caesar was to strike at the very bread and butter of his existence. At best it might mean the inconvenience of a review. At worst, well, it was best not to think about that. Then there was the added nuisance of knowing that those priests might come out looking better in Caesar’s eyes than Pilate would.

Oh well, there was nothing to do but get rid of this inconvenience called Jesus and protect his friendship with Caesar. After all, isn’t that what it is all about?