441 He has done injustice
He allowed the crowd have the final say
Though he analysed properly, still failed to do justice
Though he cannot find any fault (in the Lord)
He listened to other’s words.
As the voice of the crowd
Overcame his inner voice
Giving up his own mind
He gave the verdict according to others’ words
Rejecting the good one
And allowing the criminal to escape
In order to preserve his position
He has done the worst thing
But there is no point in blaming him
That too is the will of god
But as he failed to up hold his justice
He earned a bad name
Did he alone done this
Did he committed that mistake only for others
We too are like that
We too transgress in order to please others.
8-6-16, Gurukulam, 2.00. P.M. Lk. 23:13-25
After reading from Muktiveda from Luke 23, I wrote this song as a reflection of his act in which he has done the injustice knowing and wantonly just to please others. The following point by Bavinck will help us to understand this point from a scholarly point of view, which is worth reading as it is:
Ch 8. The Sentence of the Governor.
…During the Roman occupation (at the time Jesus was taken prisoner), the Sanhedrin had the authority to try cases; but in order to have the sentence verified, it needed the approval of a judge outside the Judaic judicial system – in this case, the Roman governor….Of course, the governor could have taken the easy way out and simply confirmed the Sanhedrin’s sentence. For some reason (which the Gospel narratives do not explain), however, Pilate, the Roman governor at the time, preferred to deal with the mater independently and started to investigate whether the death sentence was indeed justified. That is the simple reason that we hear about two judicial processes in rapid succession, one at the priestly court and the other at the court of the governor. (p.88)
The Legal Proceedings before the Governor
The legal wrangling before the court of the governor lasted for hours. Many difficulties arose, and time after time the proceedings took on new twists. In reconstructing how the different Gospels report the event, we can summarize it as follows. Early in the morning, the members of the Sanhedrin arrived at the court of the governor and accused Jesus of three serious crimes: (1) he taught the people heresies; (2) he told the people not to pay taxes to the emperor; (3) he claimed to be Christ, the king (Luke 23:2). All three accusations were of a political nature: they did not directly relate to religious wrongdoing, but they were couched in the kind of terms that Pilate could not dismiss.
Right from the start, however, it became clear that Pilate was not (p. 90) inclined the sentence of the Sanhedrin without further investigation. He decided to look into the matter more deeply. The first inquiry took place inside the gubernatorial palace. The main question there was whether Jesus had, indeed, claimed to be a king. At that session the Savior spoke the remarkable words to the effect that his kingdom was “not of this world” and that he had come “to testify to the truth” (John 18:36-37). Pilate got the impression from this that Jesus was an idealist, a utopian dreamer, and thus someone whom he could under no circumstances sentence as a politically dangerous criminal. He had Jesus brought outside, and he told the Jews who had congregated that he had found Jesus innocent. The Jews then shouted that Jesus had misled everybody – from Galilee to Judea. This outcry gave Pilate the excuse to send Jesus to Herod, because Herod was the tetrarch of Galilee. Since Jesus came from Galilee, he was under Herod’s jurisdiction. That concluded the first part of the judicial proceedings.
The proceedings resumed when Jesus was taken from Herod’s palace back to Pilate. At that point Pilate firmly resolved not to give in to the demand of the chief priests. He made up his mind and delivered his verdict: “Nothing this man has done calls for the death penalty. So I shall have him flogged, and then I shall release him” (Luke 23:16). That was the first sentence.
This announcement, however, caused the multitude gathered in front of the palace to embark on a loud and persistent show of disapproval. Pilate, attempting to mollify the public anger to some degree, and seeking a way out of his predicament, pitted Jesus against Barabbas, a murderer. In his heart, Pilate was completely convinced that the crowd out there would have enough feeling for justice to choose the release of Jesus over that of an out – and – out criminal who had been involved in an insurrection. However, Pilate’s plan backfired: the crowd chose Barabbas over Jesus, and Pilate again faced the problem of what to do with Jesus. True to his first sentence, he commanded that Jesus be flogged. The soldiers who were ordered to do the flogging were given a free hand in carrying out this command: they took the liberty of portraying Jesus as a triumphant king, draping a purple mantle around him, putting a staff in his hands, and crowning him with thorns on his head. In this way he resembled a triumphant Christ, to whom all nations would someday be subject, the (p.91) Christus Triomphator (the triumphant king of Israel). When this despicable parody was over, Pilate thrust Jesus forward to show him to the unruly mob. With an undertone of pity in his voice, Pilate said, Ecce homo (“look at this man” [John 19:5]). If the governor had hoped that some of his own empathy would be imparted to the people out there, he was sadly mistaken. The mob was in an ugly mood, and their cry roared through the courtyard: “On the cross with him, crucify the villain!” The attempts of the weak governor were no match for the outpouring of furious rage by the rabble. It was now beyond him to further carry out the sentence he had once pronounced (partly fulfilled by the flogging) and to release Jesus. He again engaged in dialogue with the gathering in front of him, and with the chief priests, who were the inciting the crowd. That resulted in a new accusation: “We have a law, and according to that law he must die, because he claimed to be the Son of God” (John 19:7).
The political accusations abandoned, everything now focused on the religious charge that Jesus had made himself equal to God, thus blaspheming God. Before the judgment seat of Pilate, the same accusation that was brought before the Sanhedrin could now be heard – the allegation that started the second judicial process. Pilate was forced to interrogate Jesus once again, now on the issue of blasphemy. Again he brought Jesus inside and again asked him all kinds of questions. But this inquiry, too, led to nothing. Pilate could only conclude that this rabbi from Nazareth, who evidently managed to generate such intense anger amongst the priesthood, could under no circumstances be considered a politically dangerous agitator and revolutionary who deserved the imperial penalty. Once again Pilate took Jesus outside, and once again his voice echoed across the court of the palace: “I find him not guilty”.
That does it! The chief priests were overcome by rage. They feared that their prey might yet escape them, and so now they used the ultimate threat as a way to get him into their clutches. “If you let this man go, you are no friend of Caesar. Anyone who claims to be a king opposes Caesar” (John 19:12). These last words contained a clear threat: If you dare to release this Jesus, we won’t hesitate to lodge a complaint with the emperor and accuse you of allowing people who proclaim themselves king to run free. Thus, at long last, the accusation had taken on its final form. Here, before Pilate’s tribunal, it all came down to the one cardinal indictment (p.92) that Jesus had proclaimed himself king. All other accusations were pushed aside, and the whole trial concentrated on the one accusation: he is a rebel who proclaims himself to be king and thus he breaks the unity of the Roman Empire. And it is on the basis of that he breaks the unity of the Roman Empire. And it is on the basis of that accusation that Jesus was sentenced. Not that he called himself Son of God; not that he had led the people onto the wrong path; not that he had told the people not to pay taxes –bu simply that he had proclaimed himself king.
This is, in short, the gist of what happened during the court proceedings before Pilate’s tribunal. The trial saw a number of dramatic moments, moments full of intense outbursts and massive tension. There were words loaded with infinite wisdom. The charge was often changed, rearranged, and differently formulated. But the result was that Jesus was convicted because he had declared himself king.
A few elements dominate this entire drama. First, there was Pilate’s sense of justice: he knew the meaning of justice, and he stubbornly wanted to adhere to the code he knew. But he had no spine whatsoever. He started a dialogue with the mass of people when he should have adhered to the law he knew; when stern authority was necessary, he began to waver. He was totally unfit as a ruler – or a judge. We do not see in him a trace of true royalty: instead of taking the lead, he was led; instead of taking the initiative, he followed; instead of being a ruler of a nation, he was ruled by them. In spite of his official toga and the authority that went with his office, he was like a child at the mercy of the wiles of the mass. The ultimate cause of this weakness was his strong desire for self-preservation. He was afraid that, were he to carry out justice, it would cost him his position – perhaps his life. Above all, he wanted to maintain the status quo, and because of that desire, he forfeited his independence and became a slave of the masses.
The church pronounces her verdict on this weakling when she confess, “Who suffered under Pontius Pilate.” The creed does not, “Who suffered through Pontius Pilate.” Pilate was not even a direct actor in this terrible drama because he was nothing but a teetering wall, a gate that was easily crashed, under which he was crushed by the murderous multitude.
In contrast to Pilate’s weakness was the strength of the chief priests’ wrath. Not a trace of hesitation there, nor any fear. They tried all angles and kept on concocting new accusations as they withdrew the old ones. (p.93) They connived, they begged, they demanded, they yelled, they threatened – but in all this they only had their eyes on the one goal that they pursued with all their might. And because they single-mindedly went after this one objective, they gained the upper hand. The sentence was pronounced, and the “King of the Jews” was convicted. That is how, from a purely human perspective, matters took their course in this judicial standoff. Out of all this twisting and turning there finally emerged the charge that Jesus had proclaimed himself king, which earned him the death penalty. “He opposes the emperor,” those of the Sanhedrin said. That is, he was breaking the unity of the empire.—pp. J. H. Bavinck, Between the Beginning and the End: A Radical Kingdom Vision, tr. By Bert Hielema, Grand Rapids, Michigan, William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, (1946), 2014
441 அநீதி இழைத்தான்
அவர்கள் போக்கிற்கு விட்டுவிட்டான்
ஆராய்ந்தும் தீர்ப்பைக் கோட்டைவிட்டான்
எவ்விதக் குற்றமும் காணாத போதும்
பிறர் பேச்சை மட்டுமே கேட்டுவிட்டான்
மனிதர் போட்ட சத்தம் மட்டும்
மனதின் குரலை விஞ்சியதால்
சொந்தப் புத்தியை இழந்து விட்டுப்
பிறர் சொற்படி தீர்ப்புச் செய்துவிட்டான்
நல்லவனைப் புறம் தள்ளிவிட்டுப்
பாதகம் செய்தோனைத் தப்ப விட்டு
பாவம் பதவியை தக்க வைக்கப்
பெரும் பாதகந் தன்னையே செய்துவிட்டான்
அவனைச் சொல்லிக் குற்றம் இல்லை
ஆண்டவன் சித்தமும் அதுவானதே
ஆயினும் தன்நீதி செய்யாததால்
அவப்பெயர் தன்னையே பெற்றுவிட்டான்
அவன் மட்டுமா அதனைச் செய்தான்
அடுத்தவர்க்காகத் தவறு செய்தான்
நாம்கூட நாளுமே அப்படித்தான்
பிறர் மெச்ச நம்நீதி மீறுகிறோம்
8-6-16, குருகுலம், மதியம் 2.00. லூக்கா 23:13-25