“We Were There”  Pilate
John 18:28-40
St. John’s, Bradford
April 13, 2001 (Good Friday)

Fools!  What fools!  And he’s the biggest fool of them all.  A fool and a dreamer.  Any fool, myself included, could see he is innocent of these charges.  Granted, my dear, there is something about him, despite his mild face and meek demeanor.  I wonder…perhaps your dreams do speak truth, do bear heeding…it’s his certainty of purpose, his very inner stillness that commands.  But sedition?  Rebellion?  More likely he offended their sense of power and threatened their purses than offended the empire and threatened Roman rule.  But these Jews are completely incomprehensible, completely pig-headed.  They would have his death or none at all.  I offered them a choice between him and Barabbas, a known murderer!  What Barabbus did to those women makes even my skin crawl!  But they would have none of it.
	And without a crucifixion, how am I to keep them entertained?  The poor things need some release for their emotions.  Without this focus for their anger, it could all erupt into true rebellion.  Easy enough to quell, but rather messy, and certainly not something I want word of to get back to Rome.  No, certainly not.
	And…well, I do admit I like blood sport as much as anyone else.  A little torture, a little flogging, an execution here and there keeps you feeling alive—and certainly keeps those Jews in line.  Especially at this time of year.  Their passions have always run high during their rituals—simply part of a drama we play annually.  They talk of revolt and freedom—something to do with some “Passover” and mass exodus from oppression they believe their God saved them from centuries ago.  I counter with talk of massacres—once I even mingled the blood of, what were they?  Ah yes, Galileans!  And then, after all that talk, we compromise with a simple execution—and, if they’ve been really good, the release of a prisoner.  The playacting can become a bit tedious at times, but they relish the drama and pageantry of it all.
	But to cast this one in the lead role?  Really, those Pharisees were asking quite a lot of me!  Their accusations were so outrageous that even he refused to dignify them with a response.  His very silence proclaimed his innocence.  No, no, he certainly did not follow the script this year!
	Yet those Jews were so insistent.  And when I could find nothing to uphold the charges, I was forced, simply forced to send him on to Herod.  After all, Herod’s family has been ruling these people for decades—he should have been able to make some sense of this mess.  And Herod dealt so effectively with that other one, what was he called?  The Baptizer?  Yes, I had great hopes that Herod could clear up this bother.
	But, really, that Herod must be growing weak!  Oh, Herod mocked him when no miracles were forthcoming, but that’s no way to address such a delicate situation—the ridicule route?  Crown a supposed rebel with thorns and drape an elegant robe over him?  Especially when even such a crown as that sits so lightly on his brow, and such a robe falls so naturally from his shoulders.  Yes, the fool certainly looks the part of a king.  I wonder what it is about him?  Oh, I suppose all fanatics, when they truly believe in themselves create that impression.  And to sacrifice himself so willingly for another—well he must either be a fool or a fanatic now, mustn’t he?
	Now, now, my dear, hush!  Why the fuss?  There’s no call for such fear, despite your dreams.  I did my best to free him, and in the end I washed my hands of him.  Before the crowd I called, “I am innocent of this man’s blood.  It is your responsibility!”  And they shouted back, “Let his blood be on us and on our children!”
	Yes, yes, I am innocent of his blood.  I am perfectly innocent.