Pilate asks: “What’s truth?” and Jesus remains silent.
Why?
Because truth is Jesus the Christ, standing there in front of Pilate – now get the picture: here’s Pilate, wearing expensive clothing, hair well-done, in a palace, surrounded by Imperial Guards with shiny weapons, beautiful draperies, servants attending to Pilate’s every need, fine food and drink … the lap of luxury … and then Jesus, hands bound with tough leather straps, blood seeping through his tattered robe, hair tangled with spit and sweat … already half-way to death …
Between these two, you’re standing there in the corner – you’re witness to this encounter – a Jewish prophet from Galilee and mighty Pilate in his palace … and you ask yourself, “Who’s telling the truth?”
How might you answer?
Come one now, tell yourself the truth?
Might you not be inclined to go with Pilate?
Rather than this beaten and tattered man swaying unsteadily on his bloody feet.
Pilate questions him with an imperious voice.
Jesus is horse from thirst, his mouth swollen from the fists that easily found their mark.
Who might you choose?
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