God on Trial: Misconceptions

Luke 23:1-12

1 Then the whole assembly rose and led him off to Pilate. And they began to accuse him, saying, “We have found this man subverting our nation. He opposes payment of taxes to Caesar and claims to be Messiah, a king.”

3 So Pilate asked Jesus, “Are you the king of the Jews?”

“You have said so,” Jesus replied.

4 Then Pilate announced to the chief priests and the crowd, “I find no basis for a charge against this man.”

5 But they insisted, “He stirs up the people all over Judea by his teaching. He started in Galilee and has come all the way here.”

6 On hearing this, Pilate asked if the man was a Galilean. 7 When he learned that Jesus was under Herod’s jurisdiction, he sent him to Herod, who was also in Jerusalem at that time.

8 When Herod saw Jesus, he was greatly pleased, because for a long time he had been wanting to see him. From what he had heard about him, he hoped to see him perform a sign of some sort. 9 He plied him with many questions, but Jesus gave him no answer. 10 The chief priests and the teachers of the law were standing there, vehemently accusing him. 11 Then Herod and his soldiers ridiculed and mocked him. Dressing him in an elegant robe, they sent him back to Pilate. 12 That day Herod and Pilate became friends—before this they had been enemies.

God on Trial: Misconceptions

No one in these verses really understood Jesus.

Let’s start with the “whole assembly” that led Jesus away (Luke 23:1). This is the Sanhedrin—the chief priests and teachers of the law, the group that put Jesus on trial. They heard Jesus confess that he is the Son of God, but they didn’t believe it. They said Jesus was worthy of death, but they didn’t have the power to carry out the sentence. So they brought him to the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate.

Their official accusations consisted of two lies and a half-truth. The first lie: Jesus was misleading the nation. In fact, he was doing the opposite; he was trying to straighten the twisted teachings that false leaders like themselves were teaching. The second lie: Jesus opposed paying taxes to Caesar. In point of fact, Jesus had memorably said, “Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s” (Mark 12:17). The half-truth? He “claims to be Messiah, a king” (Luke 23:2). This was true, of course. Jesus did claim to be the Messiah, the Chosen One, because he is. And he is a King. But the way they presented this truth was meant to make him seem like he was posing as an earthly king—a threat to Rome—which he certainly was not. The Jewish leaders didn’t understand Jesus because they didn’t want to.

Pilate didn’t understand Jesus either, but for a totally different reason. He probably had heard of Jesus, but you get the impression he didn’t know much about him. Early on a Friday morning, a crowd materialized outside his headquarters in Jerusalem, shoving forward this plain-looking man and accusing him of claiming to be king. Pilate’s response tells us what he was thinking, “Are you the king of the Jews?” (Luke 23:3).

We’ll hear more about this trial next week. For now, let’s just say that Pilate didn’t see Jesus as a king. He sensed this man was no threat to Caesar. Pilate’s goal was to send the whole assembly home, but the Jewish leaders persisted. When they mentioned that Jesus was from Galilee, Pilate saw his out: Galilee was the jurisdiction of Herod, who happened to be in town for the Passover. Perfect! Pilate sent Jesus to Herod.

Herod may be the most interesting figure in this text. He had wanted to see Jesus for a long time. He had heard about Jesus’ exploits and wanted to see one of Jesus’ miracles! You can imagine Herod’s excitement, then, when they brought Jesus in. Let’s see what he can do! But Jesus did no miracles. He didn’t say a word. As Herod’s anticipation turned to disappointment and then boredom, he and his soldiers had some fun at Jesus’ expense and sent him back to Pilate.

The people who put God on trial in our world today have a lot in common with the people in this account. Like the Jewish leaders, some people today seem to be against Jesus because they feel his teachings are a threat to them and their way of life. They know him and don’t like him. Like Pilate, others seem less motivated by hate than by apathy. They don’t know much about Jesus, and they’re not interested to learn more. They have other things to do.

Then there are those like Herod. They’ve heard about Jesus and are intrigued by him. Maybe they’ve heard that he was a friend of sinners and assume that in him they will find an ally who will approve of their choices. Perhaps they think of him as the original rebel, an inspiration for their political cause. Or they’ve heard that he can help turn lives around, so they picture some magician who will make their troubles disappear with a wave of his hand. When they learn more and realize that’s not who he is, they lose interest or even turn against him.

What about us? Where are we in this account? Sadly, there is no one to look up to. But can we consider, for a moment, whether we might have something in common with all three – but maybe especially King Herod? There are times when we misunderstand who Jesus is. We treat him like a divine vending machine, expecting him to dispense blessings for us and then getting angry when we put in our money (or our time or effort) and no blessing drops. Or we gladly accept the good he sends but we chafe under the trouble, as if there could be a Christ or a Christian without a cross. Maybe we think we can enjoy his forgiveness without forgiving others or without fighting against the sins that need to be forgiven. We know better.

The problem—the thing we share with everyone in this story—is an inward focus. The Jewish leaders were only thinking about their political and cultural influence. Pilate was only thinking about his job and convenience. Herod was only thinking about his entertainment. We’re sinners like them. Our sin is like a warped lens that distorts our view of Jesus so that we see what we want to see.

I said that there is no one in this account for us to look up to. Of course, that’s not true. Jesus is here! But Jesus . . . well, in some ways Jesus fades into the background in this account. For the most part, he keeps quiet, unwilling to do tricks for Herod and refusing to answer more false accusations before Pilate or the Jews. When he does speak, he is respectful and truthful. He is steady and faithful and perfect.

In fact, Pilate and Herod confirmed this! Pilate sent Jesus to Herod because he could detect no crime; Herod sent Jesus back for the same reason. And these were men who had no trouble finding reasons to hand out cruel punishments. Unwittingly their apathy and laziness served to exonerate Jesus. And Jesus was innocent. That innocence of Jesus is what you now wear, bright like the robe they put on him.

Let’s not let Jesus fade into the background. Look at your God on trial. If you’re keeping count, these are now his second and third trials of that Friday morning. He hasn’t slept. At every stop he receives abuse and mockery. He knows this path will lead to the cross. But that’s where he wants to go, because even if everyone else misunderstands him, he knows who he is—your substitute, your sacrifice, your Savior.

This is the Jesus we want the world to see! He’s better than a magician who can wave away your troubles; he’s the Messiah who washes away your sin. He’s more than an inspiration for those who fight for freedom; he has freed us from death and hell! He has such love for sinners that he cannot just approve of our sins and leave us trapped in them; he forgives us and empowers us to fight against them.

As we present that Jesus to the world, there’s no question that many will continue in their blindness. Because of that, we can expect some mockery and opposition ourselves. If others don’t understand Jesus, they certainly won’t understand us. But I do think we have opportunities, especially with those people who, like Herod, are intrigued about Jesus, but just don’t know much about him. Have they heard that he has power? …that he is tender and compassionate? …that he taught peace? …that he has a special heart for the poor and downtrodden? It’s all true! But there’s more to say, and we’ll be happy to say it.

Jesus will make us bold. He stood before a governor and a king. Just three days earlier, he had told his disciples that they too should expect to be called before the authorities. The Bible tells about some who were—like Peter and John before the same Sanhedrin or the apostle Paul before another Herod and other Roman governors. We probably won’t be called before kings, but we can expect to stand before people who have some misconceptions about Jesus, and we can show them the real picture.

I said no one in this narrative understood Jesus. But that’s not entirely true. As Luke wrote these verses, he imagined one who did: the reader. He wrote for a believer named Theophilus, but by the Spirit’s inspiration he also writes to us. You and I hear these words today—we know who Jesus is. We know it by—and only by—the Spirit’s power. Our eyes have been opened to see that the man on trial is our God and Savior. That’s God’s gift to us and our gift to the world. Amen.

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God on Trial: Testimony

Matthew 26:57-75

57 Those who had arrested Jesus took him to Caiaphas the high priest, where the teachers of the law and the elders had assembled. 58 But Peter followed him at a distance, right up to the courtyard of the high priest. He entered and sat down with the guards to see the outcome.

59 The chief priests and the whole Sanhedrin were looking for false evidence against Jesus so that they could put him to death. 60 But they did not find any, though many false witnesses came forward.

Finally two came forward 61 and declared, “This fellow said, ‘I am able to destroy the temple of God and rebuild it in three days.’”

62 Then the high priest stood up and said to Jesus, “Are you not going to answer? What is this testimony that these men are bringing against you?” 63 But Jesus remained silent.

The high priest said to him, “I charge you under oath by the living God: Tell us if you are the Messiah, the Son of God.”

64 “You have said so,” Jesus replied. “But I say to all of you: From now on you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Mighty One and coming on the clouds of heaven.”

65 Then the high priest tore his clothes and said, “He has spoken blasphemy! Why do we need any more witnesses? Look, now you have heard the blasphemy. 66 What do you think?”

“He is worthy of death,” they answered.

67 Then they spit in his face and struck him with their fists. Others slapped him 68 and said, “Prophesy to us, Messiah. Who hit you?”

69 Now Peter was sitting out in the courtyard, and a servant girl came to him. “You also were with Jesus of Galilee,” she said.

70 But he denied it before them all. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

71 Then he went out to the gateway, where another servant girl saw him and said to the people there, “This fellow was with Jesus of Nazareth.”

72 He denied it again, with an oath: “I don’t know the man!”

73 After a little while, those standing there went up to Peter and said, “Surely you are one of them; your accent gives you away.”

74 Then he began to call down curses, and he swore to them, “I don’t know the man!”

Immediately a rooster crowed. 75 Then Peter remembered the word Jesus had spoken: “Before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times.” And he went outside and wept bitterly.

God on Trial: Testimony

A man from Galilee stands in Jerusalem surrounded by a hostile crowd. They set upon him, questioning who he is. They accuse him. They put him on trial. What will he say?

While that’s happening to Peter in the courtyard outside the high priest’s house, a very similar scene is playing out inside to Jesus. As the gospel writer Matthew sets these scenes side by side for us, these two men lead us to consider our testimony when the world puts us on trial.

Let’s start with the man inside. The teacher from Galilee knew this moment was coming. It was on his mind as he prayed in Gethsemane a few hours earlier. He saw it drawing near when he willingly went with the mob that arrested him. It was ordained from before time began that God would stand on trial before the Sanhedrin in the wee hours of that Friday morning.

Trial is a generous term. Kangaroo court is more like it. A parade of liars all take turns on the stand but can’t get the story straight. The only accusation with any merit is something Jesus actually said, a promise of his resurrection on the third day that the liars didn’t understand. Jesus refuses to be drawn into the foolishness; he will not dignify their lies with a response. But he won’t fail to confess who he is. When the high priest puts him under oath and asks if he is the Son of God, he stands firm and calmly and confidently confesses the truth, “I am!”

Now to the man outside. The fisherman from Galilee had been warned that this moment would come. Jesus had predicted it earlier that evening, but Peter brushed the warning aside. The pressure starts with a servant girl: “You were with Jesus too.” “No,” he says and tries to sneak away. Then another servant girl says the same, and other bystanders join in. “Sure, you’re one of his. Your accent gives it away.” Peter puts himself under oath and calls down curses, “I am not!”

What was Peter afraid of? Let’s be fair. We could exaggerate and contrast Jesus boldly confessing before powerful, violent men with Peter melting at a servant girl’s question. But Matthew tells us that guards were sitting in the courtyard too (Matthew 26:58). Every voice accusing Peter raised the risk that the guards would notice and arrest him, just like they had arrested Jesus. That’s not nothing. Still, Peter’s denial outside the courtroom was false testimony just as wicked as the lies of the witnesses inside.

What are you afraid of? I think you know how it feels to be surrounded by hostile voices. To feel cornered by a question about your connection to Jesus. Maybe you feel that when you’re with your friends and they ask why you don’t do what they do, what everyone else does, and you try hard to find excuses that they’ll accept. You feel that when people at work start talking about others behind their backs and instead of standing up for them, you look for your chance to slip away. Or when someone you know asks why you believe what you believe and your first thought is to change the subject as fast as you can.

What are you afraid of? Being considered weird? Losing street cred? Getting laughed at? Certainly not being arrested for your faith, at least not in this country today! We melt under far less pressure than what Peter felt. But let’s be fair: The pressure is still real. The fear of losing a friendship, being singled out, being looked down on—those are real fears of real loss. I’m not asking what you’re afraid of as if to say, “Toughen up. It’s not so bad.” Being associated with Jesus can bring real pain. But not being associated with Jesus . . . wouldn’t that be worse? What’s scarier: the thought of suffering with Jesus now or the thought of suffering apart from him for eternity? In a moment of pressure, we might think we’re better off not being counted as disciples of Jesus. That certainly won’t be the case when he comes in glory on the clouds!

I wish I could have seen Jesus’ face. Matthew doesn’t record this detail, but Luke does: When the rooster crowed, “the Lord turned and looked straight at Peter” (Luke 22:61). What was on his face? Disappointment? Sadness? Blood and spit? Love that Peter knew he didn’t deserve? Whatever it was, it prompted Peter to run away and weep.

I can imagine the face. I’ve seen one like it on my parents and teachers when I buckled under pressure and did what I knew was wrong, something I had been warned about. I’ve imagined it on my Savior those many times I tried my hardest to distance myself from him because in the moment, it wasn’t convenient to be considered his disciple. Like Peter, I too have every reason to weep.

But let’s not run away from that face. Jesus would have you stay and look. Whatever is on that face, it is calling you back to him. Even when you fail to claim Jesus, he still wants to claim you. He shows you his bruises and blood not to shame you but to reveal how much he loves you. What abuse he absorbs for you! This is the Son of God, who answers to no one yet stands trial and suffers to save you.

Stay and look . . . and listen. Listen to Jesus’ testimony about himself. He says he is the Messiah. He is God’s Anointed One, the one chosen to take your place. You have been connected to him through Baptism, which means that what he does before the high priest counts for you. For all the times you’ve kept silent or tried to sneak away, he stands and confesses as though he were you. That man is you as you should have been!

Keep listening. Just hours away from the depths of his humiliation, Jesus quotes Daniel’s prophecy about the Messiah’s glory. Jesus’ words were true. The one who was battered and bloodied now sits at the right hand of the almighty God. The one who once stood on trial before sinners will come on the clouds as judge, condemning those who stood against him and rescuing the faithful who, purely by his power and grace, stand with him.

That is also what I mean when I say, “What are you afraid of?” Should we be afraid to say, “That King of kings—yes, I’m with him”? How could we be embarrassed to admit that we love the one who loved us and suffered and died to make us his? Do we have anything to fear if we stand on the side of the Ruler over all the earth who promises to work all things for our good?

Maybe part of the challenge is that we get caught off guard: We’re just going about our business and suddenly we’re thrust into the witness stand. But we shouldn’t be surprised. Just as Jesus warned Peter, he also warns us: We will face tough questions. We’ll be put on trial in the court of public opinion. We’ll be singled out for our connection to Jesus. And that’s a good thing! Consider it a gift to be associated with Jesus like that.

And consider it an opportunity too. Peter learned this lesson. Years later, Peter wrote a letter to some Christians who stood out from the society around them—citizens who honored their government, slaves who obeyed their masters, wives who submitted to their husbands, husbands who were considerate of their wives, believers who were willing to suffer for doing good. People would ask them, “What makes you different?” And Peter encouraged them learn from his mistake – to be ready at anytime, anywhere to give a reason for their hope in Jesus.

Friends, I hope your Christian accent gives you away! I hope people notice that we disciples of Jesus speak and act differently—like him. May we be so blessed as to have people accuse us of being with Jesus! Sometimes that will mean hardship, but I can think of no higher honor. Often it will mean the chance to point others to that same loving face; to tell them about that man from Galilee, the Son of God and Son of Man, the Messiah, who came for us and will come again. That’s our testimony! Amen.

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