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Last Sunday after Pentecost 2 Samuel 23:1-7 ~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The Gospel according to John 18:33-37 Then Pilate entered the headquarters* again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, ‘Are you the King of the Jews?’ 34Jesus answered, ‘Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?’ 35Pilate replied, ‘I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?’ 36Jesus answered, ‘My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.’ 37Pilate asked him, ‘So you are a king?’ Jesus answered, ‘You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.’ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The word "confront" means, literally, to come face to face. There are some confrontations that define us. There are some confrontations in which we come face to face with the power that we must resist if we are to be the people God created us to be. Those confrontations are our test. Will we be true to who and what God created us to be, or will we be expedient and self-serving? Will we make concessions, and, in doing so, compromise the moral character God gave us to develop? Jesus’ confrontation with Pontius Pilate is just such a test. In many ways, both men have been preparing for this moment their whole lives. Jesus knows that this is his defining moment. Pilate does not. That is the first difference we see between them. Jesus’ life hangs in the balance, and he knows that he can plead for it, or remain faithful. Jesus knows this is that test. Pilate, on the other hand, considers this a blip on the screen, an issue of dealing with a peasant who does not have the support even of his own people. And yet this moment, this blip, will result in lasting infamy, an infamy named in our Nicene Creed, spoken by hundreds of millions of people this morning, and every Sunday morning for the last two thousand years. That Creed contains only three names: Jesus, his mother Mary, and Pontius Pilate. Pilate had, he thought, bigger fish to fry. He was the Roman Prefect for Judea. He had about 3000 soldiers at his command. In most provinces, the Prefect was largely a bean counter who was responsible for administration and collecting taxes. In this very difficult province of Palestine, Pilate had more sweeping powers. He had the power to administer justice, or, as the case may be, injustice. Pilate had the power of life and death. But even with that power, this highly volatile territory was very difficult to govern. The Romans were much hated, and the Jews had all sorts of strange customs that they would die to defend. Pilate’s dilemma as the head of an occupying force is all too familiar today. Pilate tried to use Roman power to prevent insurrection while avoiding inciting insurrection by the use of Roman power. So, as you can see, Pilate is dealing with big, throny issues. And then Pilate confronts a wandering preacher and healer about whom the Creed will be written. This Jesus has been handed over by his own people. Pilate must be heaving a sigh of relief. Even though he does not know what to do with this man, even through he says three times that he can find no fault with this man, even though the crowd clamors for the man’s death so Pilate does the expedient thing and sentences him to crucifixion, even with all of that, this is just one man. The worst that can happen is one injustice, and that to a man who cannot retaliate, who lacks the power to make trouble. This is not a pleasant business, but Pilate is relieved — it has no implications beyond itself. It will be over, and when it is over, it will be done with. Bless his heart. He really doesn’t have a clue. Before him stands this other man whose face still has finger marks on it from where the palace guard slapped him for talking back to the high priest. This man is helpless. His own followers have betrayed and deserted him. The religious leaders have accused him of treason. And now he stands alone, powerless, vulnerable — confronting Caesar’s powerful agent. Now is the time to compromise. Now is the time to plead. This is the time to "live to fight another day, to be expedient." This is the time to use your discretion, to withdraw any claim to moral authority, to say what they want you to say, to do what they want you to do, to save yourself. But Jesus has a clue; he knows that this is his test. And so, standing face to face with the man holding the power to kill him, he will not compromise. He will not plead. Far from it. Not only does he refuse to answer Pilate’s questions, but he questions Pilate. Then he tells Pilate that Jesus’ kingdom is not of this world, that he will not fight, that he does not wield power the same way Pilate wields power. Pilate seems a little dazed. The best he can do is to say, "So you are a king?" And Jesus responds, "You say that I am a king. For this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice." Pilate, on his heels, dismisses this Jesus, this force, by saying "What is truth?" And then he exerts his power by sending Jesus to be whipped and beaten and killed. It is simply the expedient thing to do; little does he realize that he is earning his place in the Creed. For both these men, this was the confrontation that would define their lives. One knew it; one did not. One way to view our task in life, our task as a Christian, is to prepare ourselves for a confrontation with Pontius Pilate. The test is going to be, will you, will I, be more like Jesus when that confrontation comes, or will you, will I, be more like Pilate? It’s easy to say, "Oh, of course I’d be like Jesus" (I mean, we all know that’s the right answer), but don’t go there too quickly. Pilate, I think, did what a lot of people, a lot of us, do. He tried to do his job, and he wanted to keep his job. He tried to be practical. He tried to please his boss and impress his friends. Above all, he tried to survive. Jesus was much less practical. He spent his life reflecting on his relationship with God and practicing the virtues that his faith gave him. He was very intentional about preparing for his confrontation with Pilate. Now, I don’t believe that he knew it would be Pilate, but he knew it would be someone, some powerful person he would have to confront at peril to himself. And he spent his life getting ready for, practicing for, that moment. So you’re probably thinking, "OK, Jim, no problem. I’ll get ready to confront a Roman Prefect. I’m right on that. Pontius Pilate shows us, you let me know. I’ll get in his face!" Well, there are Pilates we have to confront. Because while Pilate himself isn’t going to show up, people or things that have power over us and that we must confront if we are to be the moral, virtuous people God created us to be, they will show up. Those things, those people with power that we are called by God to confront, they are our Pilates. For you, maybe it will be the government; plenty of Christians have protested and been arrested over matters of conscience. Maybe the thing with power that must be confronted in your life is alcohol. Or drugs. Or a boss or friend who wants you to do something unethical. Maybe what has power over you is your desire to be liked, and you must confront that in order to live your Christian virtues that might make you unpopular. (For example: how do you confront Pilate when people use language around you that demeans children of God? That’s a hard one for lots of us.) Maybe it is death that has power over you and must be confronted. Pontius Pilate is long gone, but there are still plenty of Pilates to confront. In the Eagle Notes you will be receiving before long, I recommend a book called The Family Virtues Guide. It is a practical guide to practicing virtues such as caring, compassion, consideration, excellence, faithfulness, generosity, helpfulness, humility, justice, kindness, love, modesty, peacefulness, respect, self-discipline, tact, tolerance, trust, and unity. Those virtues don’t spring from nothing; they arise out of our faith in the God who is the source of all virtue. In many ways, you can see the book as commentary on our baptismal vows. And the point is, Jesus practiced virtues all of his life to prepare for his confrontation with Pilate. So when the time came, he was ready; he was calm; he knew who he was, and he knew what was really important. In the face of Pilate’s power, Jesus was able to be the child of God he was created to be. After the Thanksgiving service Thursday, I was watching Dock Anderson play the organ. His hands were going all over the place; his feet were going all over the place, and between beats he would quickly pull out a stop, and somehow this whirl of activity was creating beautiful music. When he paused to see what I wanted, I said, "I am just amazed that you can do that." He said, somewhat dismissively, "Oh, you could do it too." Then he paused, and added, "if you spent thirty-four years practicing every day." I’d like you to leave here today thinking about three things. First, what are the "Pilates" in your life? Only by asking that question can you avoid being like poor clueless Pontius Pilate and instead know the importance of the confrontation. Second, be aware that there are probably other Pilates waiting for you down the road. Do not be complacent. You, I, we all must practice, prepare, be ready. Finally, think about how you need to practice, prepare, get ready. How will you continue to become a more virtuous person, ready for the test? Maybe the book I talked about will help. It has helped me. Think about where you get support in this. Think about how your prayer life strengthens you for this, and if it doesn’t, how you need to change your prayer life. Think about how you are intentional in preparing for your own personal confrontation with Pontius Pilate. I’ll tell you one thing I do to prepare. I come to church. There are lots of reasons for that, of course, but far and away the most important reason is this: just like Dock, I need to practice. The Rev. James H. Pritchett, Jr. St. John’s Episcopal Church, College Park, GA
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