Without a threat in sight

Today I found myself reading a scene very familiar to me. Jesus stands before Pilate as he receives his death sentence. Although he has committed no crime, he attempts no defense. He makes no effort at all to save himself. In fact, he doesn’t even show signs of desperation or pending doom. I don’t know about you, but to me this is pretty remarkable, if not crazy. Apparently Pilate was right there with me because he incredulously asks Jesus if he is going to say anything, and reminds him that he is “determining Jesus’ fate” at that very moment. Here Jesus speaks with words more bewildering than his initial silence. He says, “You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above.”

Wow.

Like Pilate, both Jesus’ silence and words throw me through a loop. By all earthly logic, Jesus has absolutely no reason to proceed to his capital punishment in total confidence, assuredness, and security. By all logic, the man is finished. His response simply does not make sense. Where in the world did it come from?
Perhaps the answer is as simple as saying that Jesus has his mind and eyes set on something higher. Maybe he maintains such composure and sturdiness in the midst of his circumstances because the fate of his life and purpose are rooted in something beyond the physical world that we live in. This theory makes a lot of sense considering another puzzling statement Jesus makes in the garden when the guards come for his arrest. He says, “My kingdom doesn’t consist of what you see around you. If it did, my followers would fight so that I wouldn’t be handed over to the Jews. But I’m not that kind of a king, not the world’s kind of king.” Jesus sees no need for physical retaliation to physical threat because the situation in no way threatens the throne he claims, which is in the spiritual realm. His mission, identity, and reign go so incredibly beyond what we can see. Thank God that he knew that.

Although it’s sometimes difficult for me to understand Jesus’ actions, I am OK with accepting that they reflect his belonging to a heavenly realm. After all, he is God. But what happens if take all of the thoughts I’ve just expressed and apply them to Jesus’ declaration that “[You are] not of the world any more than I am of the world”? What am I supposed to do with that?!

If I am not of this world any more than Jesus, shouldn’t my response to circumstances and threats be like his? Doesn’t it mean that I should be living in a reality which is greater than that of the physical world? Shouldn’t I stand with the same assuredness as Jesus regardless of my life circumstances? How is it that I can feel so threatened? I pray for my eyes, heart, and mind to open up to a greater reality. I want to set my sight on something so much greater than the here and now.

Finishing the story of Jesus’ crucifixion I read of Pilate insisting on writing Jesus a plaque which named him King of the Jews. His guards stand stunned, if not angered, but Pilate insists. Something happened between the time of Pilate’s interrogation of Jesus and Jesus’ death. Could it be that Pilate, like me, came to the conclusion that the only logical explanation for Jesus’ behavior is that he was actually who he said he was? I think so.

I am so thankful for what I read today, because for the first time I realized how important Pilate is. Not only does he strengthen my belief in Jesus as Christ, but he also dares me to consider my own life. What if I, like Jesus, can live in such a way which points to something greater? What if God really can open my eyes, heart, and mind to the reality of the kingdom I really belong to? Maybe then I, too, would maintain this composure and security shown by Jesus. Maybe in that, I would get a taste of real glory because it glorifies the kingdom of the One deserving of glory. Could it be?