"I am a king," Jesus, acknowledged, as He thought of the myriads of bright-winged angels who in the Better Land had flown to do His bidding, and of the thousands upon thousands of faithful followers, not yet born, who would some day share His throne. "I am a King, but not of this world." And at His simple words Pilate's heart misgave him still more.
Who could this strange man be, who was so far above all other men? Where had He come from? And where was His kingdom? Was He in some mysterious way connected with the heavens?
Oh, how he wished that those Jews had settled the matter amongst themselves, and that he could avoid having anything to do with it! They were resolved, he could see, on having His blood; and he dared not go altogether against them. Yet how could he condemn a Man like that?
But, suddenly, his face brightened. Some one in the crowd said that Jesus belonged to Galilee. Then he could send Jesus to Herod, the tetrarch of Galilee, who was then in Jerusalem, having come up to the feast. By doing so he should throw the responsibility on to Herod, and should then not be compelled either to vex the Jews, on the one hand, and thus bring about his own punishment, or to crucify this Man, who was so great a mystery to him, and, perhaps, bring down upon himself the anger of the gods.
Pilate heaved a great sigh of relief, as Jesus was led away to Herod. Now he was free, he thought, and, if that more than innocent Man were put to death, as He would be, he, at least, would be guiltless of his blood, and very cleverly he had managed it, without stirring up against himself the wrath of the Jews.
But it was not to be so.
Before long the dreaded mob returned. Herod had sent Jesus away, finding no fault in Him. And the Jews brought him again to Pilate.
Heavily as lead the hooting and the yelling fell upon the governor's ears. What should he do? What could he do? Oh, if only he had not acted so wrongly in the past, he might have dared to do right now! If only he had not violated the Roman law he might now have vindicated its majesty! He might have told the Jews that he, a Roman governor, could not think of so gross an injustice as condemning such a Man, and that they were only actuated by envy and hatred. Oh, if he could only wipe out his past offences, and stand clear concerning the Jews, he might, also, stand clear concerning this Jesus, who was called the Christ!
But his hands were stained with crime; and, like a child who tells a second falsehood to get out of the trouble of having told a first, he must make the guilt of a still deeper dye.
But could he not in some way conciliate the Jews, and save Jesus as well? he wondered. Yes; he would pretend to look upon Him as guilty; but would remind them of the custom of releasing some prisoner at the Passover; and try to persuade them to have Jesus set free. But they preferred Barabbas; and Pilate tried another plan. He would inflict upon Jesus the painful and humiliating punishment of scourging and let Him go.