Jesus Before Herod
8 Now when Herod saw Jesus, he rejoiced greatly; for he had wanted to see Him for a long time, because he had been hearing about Him and was hoping to see some sign performed by Him. 9And he questioned Him at some length, but He answered him nothing. 10And the chief priests and the scribes were standing there, vehemently accusing Him. 11And Herod with his soldiers, after treating Him with contempt and mocking Him, dressed Him in a bright robe and sent Him back to Pilate. 12Now Herod and Pilate became friends with one another that very day; for before they had been enemies with each other. (Luke 23:8-12)
Bird's-eye view
In this brief but potent scene, Luke shows us the collision of two kingdoms. On the one hand, we have the kingdom of God embodied in the silent majesty of Jesus Christ. On the other, we see the tawdry, corrupt, and ultimately impotent kingdom of man, represented by Herod Antipas. This is not a contest between equals. It is the Creator of the world standing before a petty tyrant, a cheap knockoff of a king who wants to see a magic show. Herod's desire for a sign is the craving of a jaded and superficial mind, not the hunger of a soul seeking truth. Christ's silence in the face of this triviality is not weakness but a profound statement of judgment. The accusations of the religious leaders, the mockery of the soldiers, and the gaudy robe are all part of the world's pathetic attempt to diminish the Son of God, to reduce Him to their level. But the central irony, the punchline of this grim joke, is the reconciliation of Herod and Pilate. Their newfound friendship, forged in their shared contempt for Jesus, is a perfect picture of the world's unity. The world will always set aside its internal squabbles to unite against the Lord and against His Anointed. This is the essence of worldly politics, a fellowship of rebellion.
Clause-by-Clause Commentary
v. 8 Now when Herod saw Jesus, he rejoiced greatly; for he had wanted to see Him for a long time, because he had been hearing about Him and was hoping to see some sign performed by Him.
Herod’s joy is not the joy of a seeker finding the truth. It is the glee of a man who thinks he is about to be entertained. This is the ruler who had John the Baptist, a true prophet of God, beheaded to satisfy the whim of a dancing girl. His conscience was a haunted house, and he had previously mistaken Jesus for a resurrected John (Luke 9:7-9). But now, curiosity has overcome fear. He wants a spectacle, a performance. The world, particularly the powerful and jaded world, always wants God to be a court magician. They want power on their terms, for their amusement. Herod had heard the reports, but he had not heard them. He heard of power, but not of authority. He heard of miracles, but not of the Messiah. This is the posture of the unregenerate ruler; he sees Jesus as a potential asset or a diversion, but never as Lord.
v. 9 And he questioned Him at some length, but He answered him nothing.
Jesus, who debated with the scribes in the Temple as a boy, who answered the trick questions of the Pharisees with divine wisdom, who will shortly promise paradise to a thief, says nothing to this king. Why the silence? Because Herod is not asking real questions. His interrogation is a performance for his court, a way of asserting his status. He is not seeking to know, but to dominate. Christ's silence is a regal silence. It is the refusal of the Holy One to cast pearls before swine. There is a time to answer a fool according to his folly, and a time to refuse to participate in the folly altogether. Jesus’s silence is a deafening judgment. It declares that Herod is not a legitimate conversation partner. He has no standing to question the King of kings. This is a terrifying thought: it is possible to place yourself in a position where God Himself will not speak to you.
v. 10 And the chief priests and the scribes were standing there, vehemently accusing Him.
While the pagan ruler is trying to be entertained, the religious leaders are hard at work. Their accusations are "vehement," which means they are passionate, intense, and full of malice. This is the fury of apostate religion. They hate the true light because their deeds are evil. They had their own power structures, their own system of control, and Jesus threatened all of it. So they stand before a corrupt secular ruler, making common cause with him, to accuse the Son of God. This is what happens when the church becomes a political institution; it will inevitably find itself standing with Herod and Pilate against Christ. Their loud accusations stand in stark contrast to Jesus’s dignified silence. They are frantic, desperate. He is serene, sovereign.
v. 11 And Herod with his soldiers, after treating Him with contempt and mocking Him, dressed Him in a bright robe and sent Him back to Pilate.
Herod, having failed to get his magic show, turns to mockery. This is the world's fallback position when confronted with a holiness it cannot comprehend or control: ridicule. Contempt is the tribute that vice pays to virtue. Herod and his soldiers, men of earthly power, do what such men always do to the truly powerful. They mock Him. They try to make Him small. The "bright robe" is part of the joke. It is a kingly garment, but it is put on Him in jest. They are unwittingly participating in a divine coronation ceremony. They think they are dressing up a fool, but they are clothing the King in the ironic vestments of His paradoxical glory. Every act of humiliation the world heaps upon Christ is, from heaven's perspective, another jewel in His crown. Herod finds no fault in Him worthy of death, but he is happy to treat him as a court jester before sending him back. He abdicates his responsibility, which is the hallmark of a weak and wicked ruler.
v. 12 Now Herod and Pilate became friends with one another that very day; for before they had been enemies with each other.
Here is the climax of the scene, and Luke states it with masterful irony. Two political rivals, a Jew and a Roman, find common ground. What is the basis of their newfound friendship? A shared, casual contempt for the Son of God. This is the ecumenism of the damned. The world is full of divisions, rivalries, and hatreds. But one thing can always bring the children of darkness together: their opposition to Christ. As Psalm 2 prophesied, "The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the LORD and against his Anointed." This friendship is not based on affection or respect, but on a mutual agreement to dismiss Jesus. They are united in their rebellion. This is a picture of all unholy alliances, all political compromises made at the expense of truth. They patched up their petty political quarrel over the body of the Lord of glory. And in doing so, they sealed their own condemnation and revealed the fundamental unity of the city of man against the city of God.
Application
This passage is a stark reminder of how the world views our King. To the powerful, He is either a curiosity to be trifled with or a threat to be eliminated. To the religious establishment, He is a rival to be slandered. And to the masses, He is an object of mockery. We should not be surprised when the world treats us, His followers, in the same way. The world still demands a sign, a performance, a Jesus who will conform to its expectations. And when we present them with the true Christ, the silent and suffering King, they will respond with contempt.
We must also beware of the friendship of Herod and Pilate. The temptation to find unity with the world by compromising our confession of Christ is ever present. When believers and unbelievers, or faithful churches and apostate churches, set aside their fundamental disagreements to work together on some "common cause," they are often just re-enacting this scene. True unity is found only in Christ, not in a shared dismissal of Him. Our loyalty is to the man in the bright robe, not to the men who put it on Him as a joke.
Finally, we must learn from the silence of Jesus. There are times when the best apologetic, the strongest testimony, is a dignified refusal to engage with the foolish and corrupt questions of a hostile world. We are not called to be court jesters for the powerful. We are ambassadors of a King, and we must conduct ourselves with the quiet confidence that comes from knowing that His kingdom, not Herod's or Pilate's, is the one that will have no end.