But why is Christ faulted? He had said enough to convince the court of his innocence. The judge had repeatedly and publicly declared it. "I find no fault in him."
Christ's silence was not sullen, or contemptuous. He had said enough. His silence was prudent—perhaps necessary. He had come into the world to suffer—"to make his soul an offering for sin." Had he said more, perhaps Pilate had not dared to give sentence against him. Had not Christ died the ends of his coming had been frustrated. Therefore was he now dumb before his oppressors, agreeably to the prophecy. "He is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep is dumb before his shearers, so he opened not his mouth."
It was necessary that evidence should be given of Christ's innocence, sufficient to convince the honest mind, that he was not a malefactor —that he did not die for his own sin. This had been given. It was enough—rendered his murderers inexcuseable. The wisdom of providence permitted no more.
Pilate declared himself convinced. But then he had power either to crucify Christ, or to release him. He felt himself possessed of this power, and appealed to our Lord whether he did not possess it.
Pilate knew what was right—what he ought to do. Conscience directed him to acquit the guiltless. But this did not necessitate him to do it. He had power to do right. He had power also to do wrong.
Others possess similar power. Every moral agent hath power to obey or disobey the dictates of his conscience. It is not the method of heaven to compel men to good, or leave them to be compelled to evil. God intended man to be a free agent, who should choose for himself the part he would act; and endowed him with a self determining power, to capacitate him to choose. Devoid of this power, he could not be accountable.
Man ought to be governed by reason and conscience. These make known his duty, and offer proper motives to induce him to discharge it. But they do not oblige him to it. It is referred to his own choice. If he prefer doing wrong, to doing right, he may do it.
This is exemplified in the case before us. Sufficient evidence was given of Christ's innocence. The judge was convinced, and knew that it was his duty to treat him as innocent. But if to answer worldly ends, or in any respect to gratify depravity, he preferred crucifying the guiltless, he had power to do it. Though Jesus was the Son of God, God had left him in the hands of the enemy. "It was their hour and the power of darkness." They chose and conspired his death. The Jews would not receive such a Messias. Pilate did not choose to offend the Jews. The former urged his crucifixion, for fear "all men would believe on him." The latter was prevailed with to condemn the guiltless, because he wished to gratify the chiefs of the nation which he governed. Both sinned against the light of their own minds, not of necessity, but out of choice—knowingly did wrong to gain worldly ends; or avoid temporal disadvantages.
Sinners commonly act on the same principles. They can distinguish between good an evil—can "judge of themselves what is right." They know it to be their duty to choose the good, and refuse the evil. But possessing power to counteract the dictates of conscience, often to gain worldly ends, and answer sinister views, do counteract them —choose that for which they are condemned of themselves.
It is folly to pretend that our choices are necessary. The proposition involves absurdity. Choice and necessity are often opposites. Some bewildered in the labyrinth of metaphysics have doubted the plainest truths—the existence of matter! And even their own existence! But these doubts are a species of madness. To the person of common sense they are unnecessary. Let him only believe his senses, which the author of nature hath given to instruct him, and they will all vanish.