John 19:1-16

In case your Latin is a bit rusty, the sermon title means “” and was the title of a best selling devotional book in Great Britain 150 years ago, and at least a couple of movies about ’ life have an actor playing the part of Pilate pointing to Jesus and speaking these Latin words “Ecce Homo.” Is this really what

Pilate said? Did Pilate have a translator with him at all times; what languages are being spoken here in these scenes with Jesus and the priests and the Roman governor of Palestine: Aramaic or Latin or Greek or Hebrew? Did the High Priest understand Latin, the official language of the Empire, or would Pilate have presented the bloody and beaten Jesus to the priests with the Greek phrase from the

New Testament “idou ho anthropos?” Greek being the universal language in the ancient world. Perhaps Pilate spoke a little Hebrew and so his words would have been “hinneh ish,” a phrase that happens to come from a passage by the prophet

Zechariah (6:10-12). Listen to this word of the Lord from that Old Testament book, “Behold the man whose name is the Branch; for he shall build the temple of the Lord…and shall bear royal honor, and shall sit upon his throne and rule.” Yes, that sounds like he could be talking about Jesus. Does Pilate unwittingly prophesy about Jesus? An interesting idea, because more than once God has used unbelieving rulers and nations to do his will- even calling King Cyrus of Persia the

Anointed One, that is, the Messiah ( 45:1). How many times in these passages in John has Pilate called Jesus the “King of the Jews?” He might speak with a scornful tone perhaps, but that regal title fits perfectly with the Jesus of this gospel: Son of God, the one sent from God to reveal truth and to give life; certainly a king, and the Jewish leaders should have recognized him as the King from heaven. Instead, in a final irony, after Pilate shows them Jesus and asks,

“Would you have me crucify your King?” the High Priest and the religious officials shout out their blasphemous reply- using words that display a total rejection of Jesus and the God who sent him- “We have no king but Caesar!”

“Behold the man.” What is the author’s intent as he retells the story of

Jesus’ trial and crucifixion, writing down these particular words of Pilate? No other gospel has this statement. To whom does Pilate present Jesus with this quote? In John’s account, not an angry mob, but the religious leaders of the Judean nation, who immediately cry out, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” Here is not mass hysteria or mob psychology at work, not a crowd stirred to blood lust, but a determined effort by a few leaders of the people, a conscious decision to destroy this particular man. They did not feel pity for the bound and bloodied man before them, no prick of conscience at their deliberate lie that had put him in this desperate place; they were not moved by the ancient test of guilt or innocence, the flogging, which seemed to have convinced Pilate of his innocence. So what do they see as they behold this man? Perhaps only a threat; and as a threat to them, the truth of his teaching, his mercy they had seen in his healings and the power they had seen when he raised Lazarus from the dead, none of it mattered. They had already decided that God could speak and act only a ways they approved of and specified, and this man did not, and so he had to die. They do not see in Jesus a sinner, rather a challenger, but so long as they can lie to get what they wanted, or could cajole and make deals, they would not lose their position and authority.

We haven’t completely answered that question about the author’s purpose with this quote. “Behold the man.” Perhaps these words were meant for us, as well. And so, we must ask ourselves what we might see if we were to put ourselves there and look at Jesus. I can’t help but think that when Pilate says,

“Behold the man,” we’re supposed to think back to the beginning of the gospel where we read about the Divine Word of God, present in the creation of the universe and perfectly one with God the Father, who is also the Word that “became flesh and lived among us”; and as a man of flesh and blood and bone, the author writes, “we have beheld his glory.” But here is this man, can it even be the same person, bleeding from his wounds and his flesh torn; the one we call Christ and

Lord, Son of God and Savior, but here bent and gasping for breath, the hard look of suffering on his face. Does the author expect us to behold this man and to recognize him as God’s Holy Son? How could it be, what could bring him to this lowly place? Maybe that answer is also found back in the first verses of John, where the author says, “he lived among us full of grace and truth”; so that we may understand he has come to this place of execution out of love for us; and that he stands there, all eyes turned to him either full of hatred, or indifferent to his pain and humiliation, and we are made to understand at last the truth about who God is; and that at last our own suffering and loneliness, our own questioning and the search for meaning and reason, our own wrongness and even our wickedness – all of that- may also bring us to this place where we can “behold the man” and realize that he knows what our struggles are, and believe.

There may yet be one more thing. As we look at this man who was also

God’s Son and come to know, in beholding him, God’s selfless and endless love, perhaps we can see the man who is also every man, and so come to know the truth about each person. What can looking at the suffering man teach us except to look with compassion upon others, to see them, too, as God’s beloved, and to seek to share with one another the grace and truth and the goodness and love of God, which Jesus has gone through such pain to bring to us.

We have come to the time in the calendar where our faith may make it seem awkward or improper to act and speak in a light-hearted manner: it’s , with Good Friday coming, and we want to remember and honor the suffering and sacrifice of Jesus. In our text, Jesus has been severely beaten and sentenced to death, and within a few hours will be hung upon a cross to suffer one of the most humiliating and painful deaths humankind has ever devised. And yet, the author of

Hebrews has written, “for the joy set before him, Jesus endured the cross, never thinking about the shame” (Hebrews 12:2). Happiness is behind all this; joy is the foundation of Jesus’ life and words and work. Jesus came to this place, we believe, confident that the power and love of God would not leave him to the unending darkness, but would raise him to life. So there is cause for joy and hope and humor, even here.

After all, it isn’t our seriousness or our somber religiousity that proves our devotion to God- look at how serious the Jewish leaders were in our scripture, willing to lie and kill for their faith; it is rather our trust in the God of love and our gratitude for what he has done; and remembering that we share this day and this joy with others, with believers all round the world and with those very first ones who sang out the loud “hosanna” and waved the branches that first Palm Sunday, rejoicing that the King had come. The joy of those hosannas means we can celebrate and laugh enveloped by the grace and love of God. Even in the face of our Lord’s suffering- or our own- we can rejoice in the presence of the merciful

God and in our confident hope of the life he gives to us.