Two Kingdoms at Law Text: John 18:28-40
Introduction: The Ironies of the Courtroom
We come now to the formal trial of Jesus Christ before the civil magistrate, the Roman governor Pontius Pilate. And what we find here is not a simple legal proceeding but a collision of two worlds, two kingdoms, and two definitions of reality. The entire scene is drenched in a bitter and profound irony. The Jews, who have just engineered a gross miscarriage of their own law through a nocturnal kangaroo court, are suddenly fastidious about ceremonial defilement. The governor, who represents the raw, pragmatic power of Rome, finds himself in a philosophical debate with a beaten prisoner. And the central question of all human existence, "What is truth?", is asked as a cynical sneer to the One who is Truth incarnate.
This is not ancient history. This is a snapshot of the perennial human condition. We see here the hypocrisy of false religion, the cowardice of secular power, and the serene majesty of the King of Heaven. The Jewish leaders want Roman power to ratify their wicked verdict, but they want to do it without getting their hands dirty, either ceremonially or politically. Pilate wants to keep the peace and avoid a riot, but he also wants to avoid shedding innocent blood, not because he is a righteous man, but because he is a superstitious and pragmatic one. And in the middle of it all stands Jesus, the still point in a turning world, the only one in the room who is truly free.
Every actor in this drama is playing a part in a story far larger than they can comprehend. They believe they are deciding the fate of Jesus of Nazareth, but in reality, their own eternal fates are being decided by how they respond to Him. They are judging, but they are the ones who are truly on trial. The Jews think they are preserving their nation and their Passover purity. Pilate thinks he is managing a provincial disturbance. But God is fulfilling His eternal decree, accomplishing the salvation of the world through the wickedness of men, and demonstrating that the kingdom of His Son is established not by the methods of this world, but by the power of God in the face of apparent weakness.
The Text
Then they led Jesus from Caiaphas into the Praetorium, and it was early; and they themselves did not enter into the Praetorium so that they would not be defiled, but might eat the Passover. Therefore Pilate went out to them and said, "What accusation do you bring against this man?" They answered and said to him, "If this man were not an evildoer, we would not have delivered Him to you." So Pilate said to them, "Take Him yourselves, and judge Him according to your law." The Jews said to him, "It is not lawful for us to put anyone to death," in order that the word of Jesus which He spoke would be fulfilled, signifying by what kind of death He was about to die. Therefore Pilate entered again into the Praetorium, and summoned Jesus and said to Him, "Are You the King of the Jews?" Jesus answered, "Are you saying this from yourself, or did others tell you about Me?" Pilate answered, "Am I a Jew? Your own nation and the chief priests delivered You to me; what did You do?" Jesus answered, "My kingdom is not of this world. If My kingdom were of this world, then My servants would be fighting so that I would not be delivered over to the Jews; but as it is, My kingdom is not from here." Therefore Pilate said to Him, "So You are a king?" Jesus answered, "You yourself said I am a king. For this I have been born, and for this I have come into the world, to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth hears My voice." Pilate said to Him, "What is truth?" And when he had said this, he went out again to the Jews and said to them, "I find no guilt in Him. But you have a custom that I release someone for you at the Passover; do you wish then that I release for you the King of the Jews?" So they cried out again, saying, "Not this man, but Barabbas." Now Barabbas was a robber.
(John 18:28-40 LSB)
Pious Hypocrisy and Political Hardball (vv. 28-32)
The scene opens with a stunning display of religious hypocrisy.
"Then they led Jesus from Caiaphas into the Praetorium, and it was early; and they themselves did not enter into the Praetorium so that they would not be defiled, but might eat the Passover." (John 18:28)
Behold the conscience of the legalist. These men have spent the night violating every principle of justice in their own law. They have suborned perjury, held a secret trial, and condemned an innocent man. Now, with blood on their hands and murder in their hearts, they are scrupulous about avoiding ceremonial uncleanness. They will not step inside a Gentile building, lest they become unfit to eat the Passover lamb, which is a symbol of redemption from bondage. They are straining out a gnat, the defilement of Gentile dust on their sandals, while swallowing a camel, the judicial murder of the Son of God. This is what happens when religion becomes a tool for self-justification. The weightier matters of the law, justice, mercy, and faithfulness, are discarded in favor of man-made regulations that can be meticulously kept while the heart remains a pit of wickedness.
Pilate, to his credit, sees right through them. He goes out to them, a minor humiliation for a Roman governor, and demands a formal charge. Their response is pure arrogance.
"If this man were not an evildoer, we would not have delivered Him to you." (John 18:30)
This is not a legal charge; it is a demand for rubber-stamping. They are saying, "We have already judged him. We are the religious authorities. Your job is not to review our process but to provide the executioner." Pilate pushes back. "Take Him yourselves, and judge Him according to your law." He is telling them to handle their own religious squabbles. But this forces their hand. They must admit their true motive. "It is not lawful for us to put anyone to death." Under Roman occupation, the Sanhedrin had authority in religious matters, but they did not have the ius gladii, the right of the sword. They could not carry out a death sentence. They needed Rome to do their dirty work.
And John, writing with divine inspiration, shows us the ultimate purpose behind this political maneuvering. It was "in order that the word of Jesus which He spoke would be fulfilled, signifying by what kind of death He was about to die." Jesus had predicted He would be "lifted up," a clear reference to crucifixion (John 3:14, 12:32). Jewish execution was by stoning. Only the Romans crucified. So the very hatred of the Jews, which drove them to hand Jesus over to the hated Gentiles, was the instrument God used to fulfill the specific prophecies about the manner of His death. God is so sovereign that He weaves the rebellious threads of sinful men into the tapestry of His perfect redemption.
The King and His Kingdom (vv. 33-38a)
Pilate brings Jesus inside, away from the accusers, for a private interrogation. The charge they must have leveled, once forced to be specific, was sedition. Blasphemy meant nothing to Pilate, but a rival king was a capital offense against Caesar.
"Therefore Pilate entered again into the Praetorium, and summoned Jesus and said to Him, 'Are You the King of the Jews?'" (John 18:33)
Jesus's response is a brilliant counter-question. "Are you saying this from yourself, or did others tell you about Me?" He is asking Pilate, "Are you asking as a Roman, concerned about political insurrection? Or are you asking as a man, who has heard rumors of a different kind of king?" He is pressing the Creator/creature distinction upon Pilate's conscience. Are you going to deal with me on your terms, or on mine?
Pilate's reply is a contemptuous dismissal. "Am I a Jew?" He is a practical Roman, not some theologian. "Your own nation and the chief priests delivered You to me; what did You do?" He wants the facts of the case. And Jesus gives him the facts, but they are facts from another world.
"Jesus answered, 'My kingdom is not of this world. If My kingdom were of this world, then My servants would be fighting so that I would not be delivered over to the Jews; but as it is, My kingdom is not from here.'" (John 18:36)
Now, this is one of the most abused verses in the entire Bible. It has been used for centuries to justify pietism, retreatism, and a gnostic dualism that separates the "spiritual" from the "physical." When Jesus says His kingdom is "not of this world," He does not mean that His kingdom has no effect on this world. He means that the origin, the source of its power, is not from this world. The Greek is ek tou kosmou, "out of this world." His kingdom is not generated by the political processes, the military might, or the popular vote of this world system. If it were, His servants would be fighting with swords, just like any other earthly kingdom. Peter had tried that in the garden, and Jesus rebuked him for it.
But make no mistake. His kingdom is very much for this world. He came to reclaim this world for His Father. The Great Commission is a command to disciple the nations, baptizing them and teaching them to obey everything He commanded. This is a totalizing claim. His kingdom advances not by the sword, but by the Spirit and the Word. It grows like a mustard seed. It spreads like leaven in a lump of dough. It is a kingdom that invades this world from heaven, and its ultimate goal is that the will of God would "be done on earth as it is in heaven." Jesus is telling Pilate that His kingdom is not a threat to Caesar in the way Pilate understands threats. It does not use the weapons of this world. But it is a threat to Caesar's ultimate claims of divinity and total sovereignty, because there is another King, one Jesus.
Pilate picks up on the central word. "So You are a king?" Jesus's answer is an affirmation. "You yourself said I am a king." This is a Hebrew idiom of assent. "Yes, I am. For this I have been born, and for this I have come into the world, to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth hears My voice." Jesus defines the nature of His kingship. He is a king who rules by truth. His scepter is the Word of God. His subjects are those who are "of the truth," whose hearts have been regenerated by God to recognize and receive the truth. His kingdom expands as the truth is proclaimed and believed.
This brings us to Pilate's famous, tragic question. "Pilate said to Him, 'What is truth?'" This was not an honest philosophical inquiry. It was the cynical, world-weary sigh of a postmodern relativist. He had seen it all in the Roman forum: competing philosophies, manipulative rhetoric, self-serving claims. For him, truth was a matter of power. Truth is what the man with the most legions says it is. And here, standing before him, is the Truth Himself, in flesh and blood. Pilate asks the question and then, without waiting for an answer, turns his back on the only one who could give it. It is the ultimate act of intellectual and spiritual cowardice.
The Choice of the Mob (vv. 38b-40)
Having concluded that Jesus is no political threat, Pilate goes back outside to deliver his verdict.
"And when he had said this, he went out again to the Jews and said to them, 'I find no guilt in Him.'" (John 18:38b)
This is the first of three times Pilate will declare Jesus's innocence. From a legal standpoint, the case should be over. The Roman governor, the supreme judicial authority in the land, has declared the prisoner not guilty. But Pilate is not a man of principle. He is a man of political calculation. He knows what is right, but he is unwilling to do it if it costs him. So he tries to find a way out, a compromise that will satisfy the mob without forcing him to execute an innocent man.
He offers them the Passover custom of releasing one prisoner. "Do you wish then that I release for you the King of the Jews?" He uses the title mockingly, hoping to shame them. But he has fatally misjudged the depth of their hatred. He offers them a choice between Jesus, whom he has just declared innocent, and another man.
"So they cried out again, saying, 'Not this man, but Barabbas.' Now Barabbas was a robber." (John 18:40)
The other gospels tell us more about Barabbas. He was not just a robber; he was an insurrectionist and a murderer (Mark 15:7, Luke 23:19). He was a man who tried to establish a kingdom by the sword. He was exactly the kind of "king of the Jews" that they wanted, a man of violence and rebellion against Rome. They chose the man who embodied the methods of this world over the man whose kingdom was not from this world.
And in this choice, we see the gospel in stark relief. This is the great substitution. The guilty man, Barabbas, is set free, and the innocent man, Jesus, is condemned to take his place. Barabbas is you. Barabbas is me. We are the rebels, the thieves, the murderers, who deserve the cross. And Jesus, the innocent Son of God, stands in our place. The mob screams for Barabbas, and in doing so, they are unwittingly screaming for the salvation of all who will ever believe. They chose a robber over the Redeemer, a son of the father of lies over the Son of the Father of lights. And God used their wicked choice to purchase our freedom.