Luke 23.1-25

The People vs. Jesus Christ (2)

Luke 23.1-25

Jason Procopio

Luke describes Jesus Christ as the King no one expected.

He is born as a King, proclaimed by angels…and yet his birth went unnoticed by everyone except a few shepherds.

He is recognized as a King in the temple a few days after his birth…but the only ones who recognized him as such were an old priest and an old woman.

Later, Jesus is welcomed into Jerusalem by the crowds of disciples as a King. But he enters the city riding on a donkey, welcomed by crowds of ordinary people, and not the social elite.

He preaches with authority in the temple as a King—the kind of king that David was, a prophetic voice from the man God has chosen to put on the throne. And the targets of his teaching are the religious authorities—the very men who should have seen him for who he was.

So you can see a continual motif that Luke has been setting up for a while now—Jesus absolutely is King, but because he is a King no one expected, very few people recognize him as King.

No one could deny his power or his authority, but it seemed no one really knew what to do with him either. Those who loved him couldn’t set him on the throne of Israel, because he wouldn’t let them. Those who hated him couldn’t kill him, because they didn’t have the authority. 

In today’s passage, for the first time, someone has to make an ultimate decision about what will be done with this man Jesus. 

The religious authorities have questioned Jesus, and come to the conclusion that yes, he is a threat to their way of life, and yes, he should be killed. But they had no authority to kill him. Israel is occupied by Rome at this point in history, and the Roman government alone has the authority to put someone to death. So after arriving at their verdict, they have to take Jesus before the Roman government to make their case that he should be put to death.

So that’s the situation we’re in. Jesus has met with hostility from the religious authorities—and the question we’re meant to be asking at this point is, How will the Roman government respond to Jesus?

Pilate (v. 1-5)

When we pick up the story in verse 1, we see that the whole company of them arose and brought him before Pilate.

Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea at that time—that is, he was the man the Roman government had put in charge of this particular part of the world. Usually Pilate ruled from Caesaria, not Jerusalem; but he had come to Jerusalem for the Passover. The Passover (which we saw Jesus celebrate with his disciples the previous evening) was the most important celebration in Judaism, and as such it could often bring up many nationalistic tendencies amongst the Jews. So Pilate had traveled to Jerusalem to keep an eye on things and prevent any eventual uprisings from the people.

Jewish sources regard Pilate as a very harsh administrator, with no regard whatsoever for the Jews under his charge. (Josephus records that Pilate brought pagan Roman legionary standards into Jerusalem, and appropriated temple funds to build an aqueduct.) He was, to put it mildly, an intimidating and powerful figure.

This is the man the religious leaders have to convince.

V. 2:

2 And they began to accuse him, saying, “We found this man misleading our nation and forbidding us to give tribute to Caesar, and saying that he himself is Christ, a king.” 

So the Sanhedrin (the Jewish council led by the high priest) bring to Pilate false accusations and the “confession” they managed to get out of Jesus in the passage we saw last week: he claims to be the Christ.

Now of course, that term “the Christ” wouldn’t mean anything to Pilate, because he’s Roman, not Jewish. He didn’t know that the Christ was the promised Messiah, and he couldn’t know that the Jews believed that this Messiah would be a military leader who would free them from Roman occupation. So to simplify things for Pilate, they explain that the Christ is “a king.”

V. 4: 

3 And Pilate asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” And he answered him, “You have said so.” 4 Then Pilate said to the chief priests and the crowds, “I find no guilt in this man.”

It’s important to remember at this point what Pilate is seeing when he looks at Jesus. Jesus has been beaten by the temple guards and questioned all night long. He hasn’t slept. He’s been abandoned by his friends. Physically, he was bloody, exhausted, and in chains. To Pilate’s eyes, Jesus is no threat whatsoever. 

So of course when Pilate asks him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” and Jesus answers in the affirmative, Pilate’s response is, Yeah, right. This man may be crazy, but dangerous? Of course not. If they had come saying Jesus had killed, or even attacked, someone, maybe Pilate would do something. But this was a ridiculous matter to bring to him.

So he tells them so—he’s the Roman governor after all; surely his refusal to do anything about such an insignificant matter would be enough for the people.

And yet, when he gives his own verdict, the chief priests and the crowds they’ve managed to stir up to accuse Jesus won’t have it.

V. 5:

5 But they were urgent, saying, “He stirs up the people, teaching throughout all Judea, from Galilee even to this place.” 

Now I don’t think that Pilate gave any credence to the accusation that Jesus stirs up the people; I think all he heard at this point was “Galilee,” because Galilee was his way out of this annoying situation. And I think that because Luke tells us that (v. 6): 

6 When Pilate heard this, he asked whether the man was a Galilean. 7 And when he learned that he belonged to Herod’s jurisdiction, he sent him over to Herod, who was himself in Jerusalem at that time.

Thank goodness—Jesus was a Galilean, so he was under the jurisdiction of Herod. Let Herod deal with him.

Herod (v. 6-12)

The Herod in question was King Herod—the Jewish king who was allowed to keep his title under Roman occupation. Herod was as wicked as they come. This is the same king who had John the Baptist put in prison because John had had the audacity to tell Herod he shouldn’t sleep with his brother’s wife (gross enough). Then he had John beheaded, because he had promised a teenage girl he had a crush on—his own niece (double gross)—he’d give her whatever she wanted, and her mom told her to ask for John the Baptist’s head on a platter.

Everyone knew of Herod’s own brutality and his seared conscience, so even if it wasn’t ideal, Herod could at least be a semi-suitable plan B.

Herod’s actually happy to see Jesus, not because he actually believes anything anyone has said about him, but because he wants to see a magic trick. Luke says (v. 8), he had long desired to see him, because he had heard about him, and he was hoping to see some sign done by him.

Jesus won’t perform, of course, so Herod amuses himself by interrogating him. But even after the lengthy questioning, Jesus won’t say anything to confirm or deny anything.

This is interesting, because it is one of the few times Jesus remains silent. He could shut Herod down with a word, as he so often did with the religious leaders before his arrest. He could easily humiliate him, embarrass this ridiculous king who treated his God with such contempt. Or he could speak to Herod and actually change him, truly convince him that he is who he says he is.

But he says nothing. His silence is a judgment upon him; he leaves him to his sin.

So of course, in response, Herod and his solders treated Jesus with contempt and mocked him.

And Luke tells us (v. 11): 

Then, arraying him in splendid clothing, he sent him back to Pilate.

Pilate Again (v. 13-24)

13 Pilate then called together the chief priests and the rulers and the people, 14 and said to them, “You brought me this man as one who was misleading the people. And after examining him before you, behold, I did not find this man guilty of any of your charges against him. 15 Neither did Herod, for he sent him back to us. Look, nothing deserving death has been done by him. 16 I will therefore punish and release him.” 

18 But they all cried out together, “Away with this man, and release to us Barabbas”— 19 a man who had been thrown into prison for an insurrection started in the city and for murder. 

At this point Pilate finds himself in a genuinely difficult position.

The religious leaders, Mark tells us in Mark 15.11, had stirred up the crowd to cry for Jesus’s death. But Pilate would have done his homework, and known what Jesus had been doing in the area. He would have heard some stories about the crowds following Jesus, clamoring for him to heal them, hanging on his every word.

So if he has Jesus killed, he’ll assuage one crowd at the risk of angering another; and if he doesn’t have him killed, the same thing will happen. 

What’s more, now the crowds are asking him to release Barabbas, a murder and insurrectionist in prison in the city. There was a custom at the time which Matthew and Mark recount (Matthew 27.15, Mark 15.6), which saw Rome release one prisoner to the people on the Passover.

So now he’s trying to weigh which option will cause him more trouble: release Jesus, or release Barabbas? 

Of course this tired and beaten teacher would be less of a problem than a murderer and insurrectionist roaming the streets—so Pilate tries one more time.

V. 20:

20 Pilate addressed them once more, desiring to release Jesus, 21 but they kept shouting, “Crucify, crucify him!” 22 A third time he said to them, “Why? What evil has he done? I have found in him no guilt deserving death. I will therefore punish and release him.”

So Pilate offers to punish Jesus, and the gospel of John tells us he did it: he has Jesus flogged. He tries to placate the crowd through this horribly brutal punishment (they whipped the prisoner with strands of leather incrusted with bits of bone and metal, a process which often killed prisoners all on its own). But even this punishment isn’t enough: the crowd wants his crucifixion, and nothing less.

V. 23:

23 But they were urgent, demanding with loud cries that he should be crucified. And their voices prevailed. 24 So Pilate decided that their demand should be granted. 25 He released the man who had been thrown into prison for insurrection and murder, for whom they asked, but he delivered Jesus over to their will. 

When Pilate realizes that he’ll have a full-scale revolt on his hands if he doesn’t have Jesus killed, he hands him over to the guards to be crucified.

Reactions to Jesus

Now let’s take a step back and look at this trial against Jesus as a whole. There are three different steps in the process, three people (or groups of people) who render a verdict against Jesus.

First we have the religious leaders—we saw them last week, in Luke 22.63-71. 

The religious leaders are openly hostile to Jesus. Jesus is a threat to their power; he is a threat to their way of life; and he is directly insulting to them. He tells them that they act wrongly, that they interpret the Scriptures wrongly, and he actively tells his followers to be wary of them. 

Now on its own that’s not a big deal: anyone in a position of authority will sometimes have people leveling accusations against them, so normally the religious leaders could have simply shrugged it off (or meted out some lesser punishment). 

What made Jesus different was the power which accompanied everything he said about them. He performed extraordinary miracles, and then told the people to beware of the religious leaders. His teaching was accompanied with great authority; when they questioned him concerning the things he said, Jesus always outsmarted them, trapped them in inconsistencies, or outright refused to answer.

The power which Jesus manifested made him not just another negative voice in the crowd, but an active threat. So they come after him through ruse, at night, when no one is around to hear Jesus should he resist. If Jesus outsmarted them, no one would witness it. 

But to their surprise, Jesus doesn’t conduct himself in the same way he usually did; he doesn’t outsmart them; he doesn’t display any of his miraculous power. Instead, he lets himself be taken, and gives them what they want: a confession of his so-called blasphemy.

And the glee they feel at finally getting Jesus in a position of vulnerability spurs them on to even harsher hostility: they beat him, and mock him, and spit on him, and revile him.

Next we have Herod. 

Herod is the Jewish king. If he were anything like the ideal king who came before him, King David, he would have been aware of what Scripture said and may even have seen Jesus for who he really was. 

But Herod’s conscience has been seared through years of misconduct and sin, and when Jesus comes before him, he meets him with complete indifference. Jesus is no one to Herod. He doesn’t care whether Jesus lives or dies, and he’s certainly not going to bother putting forth the effort to kill him himself.

Like a sociopathic child abusing small animals, Herod mocks and reviles Jesus for his own amusement, clothing him in royal clothes as a sarcastic statement: “Come see the king!” And he sends Jesus on until the next bit of entertainment comes around.

Lastly, we have Pilate. 

Pilate is in a genuinely tricky situation.

Pilate doesn’t know what to do with this man’s strange behavior. The Bible never tells us that Pilate was convinced by anything Jesus said; and yet, he was taken aback by his strange behavior. Matthew says that Pilate was “greatly amazed” at the fact that Jesus would answer him with simple directness when he questioned him, and yet would say nothing in defense of the hostile accusations he received from the religious leaders (Matthew 27.14). 

In other words, he’s simply confused by this man. On the one hand, Jesus is about the least threatening leader one could imagine…and yet the crowds scream for his death. Jesus admits he is the King of the Jews…and yet he makes no effort to start the insurrection necessary to claim the throne.

So in the end, in his confusion, simple pragmatism wins out: the angry crowd, stirred up by the religious leaders, are clearly more of a threat than Jesus himself is, so he gives them what he wants, in order to get back to the task of being governor.

Jesus is met with hostility, indifference and confusion during his trial, and the end result is always the same: he is cast aside, sent on his way to die, so the people concerned can get on with their lives.

Why does it happen this way? Why does Jesus meet with these reactions? 

Because no one could have predicted that when God came to inaugurate his kingdom on earth, he would do it like this.

Luke is very clear in the way he sets up his narrative that Jesus Christ is a different sort of King than we would have expected. He is questioned about his kingly identity, mocked as a failed king, presented as the King of the Jews…and yet no one accepts his identity or authority as King. Luke wants Theophilus to see Jesus as a rejected King, to whom no one responds properly.

So the major question of these two texts is simple: How will we respond to the King?

Perhaps you, like the religious leaders, naturally respond with hostility. 

Whether you’re a Christian or not, perhaps you hear what Jesus says, and it sounds abhorrent to you. Nearly everyone agrees Jesus was a great moral teacher…until we realize that Jesus is a King who has the right and authority to not just suggest, but demand we live that way. 

Just this past week I heard the sad testimony of a guy I knew well a couple years ago, who received the gospel with great joy, whose life did a complete U-turn in a very short time, and who has been a major source of encouragement to the Christians around him. 

But his sin got the better of him, and when a brother brought him before the words of Scripture to point out that the way he was living wasn’t in line with the the good commandments of God, he fought back with a violence no one would have suspected. 

At some point, he became more concerned with continuing to feed his own desires than he was with following Christ, and when Christ bucked against those desires, he responded with hostility and anger, and left the church.

This happens, and it happens regularly, because Jesus doesn’t only come after our behavior; he comes after our hearts. He doesn’t just call us to live a certain way, but to be a certain kind of people. 

And outside of a supernatural work of the Holy Spirit, our sinful hearts will always find such demands repulsive. 

Perhaps you respond to Jesus Christ with simple confusion, like Pilate. 

You’ve heard the evidence, and you recognize that there’s something at least interesting about this guy—but it’s not quite enough to convince you that any of it is actually worth accepting or following.

This happens a lot as well, because for all that seems reasonable about the teachings of Jesus, there is a lot of other things he says and does that don’t click with that reasonableness. He calls himself a King, and yet he doesn’t present himself as a powerful monarch. He serves his people. He calls himself the Son of God, and yet he doesn’t use the authority he claims to have to get himself out of this bind. 

You’re simply perplexed by this man, so eventually, if you don’t find an answer that’s satisfying enough for you, you’ll respond pragmatically, like Pilate—you’ll go back to your life, because at some point you’ll have to do something. 

Perhaps you respond to Jesus Christ with simple indifference, like Herod.

You hear his teaching, and you read about his works, and it just does nothing to you at all—you don’t care. It’s just another story people tell.

You might be an unbeliever who came to church with a friend; or you may actually call yourself a Christian—you grew up in church and this is where you feel comfortable, so you fit yourself into the mold.

But in the end there’s no actual allegiance to Christ himself in you. There’s no obedience to his call on your life. There’s no response of any kind, apart from the occasional bout of mild curiosity. You come here on Sunday, and the second you leave the church, you forget all of it, and live your life as you want to live it, until the next church service or the next home group meeting.

Whether you respond to Christ with hostility, with confusion, or with indifference, you must know that the end result is the same: if you let your response to Christ be determined by your hostility, or confusion, or indifference, you are casting him aside: you are responding to Christ exactly like the religious leaders, and Herod, and Pilate did.

But there is another possibility.

We’ll see this text again in a couple weeks, but just for a moment, go with me a little further in the chapter to verses 39-43. At this point Jesus has been crucified. He is hanging on the cross between two thieves, and he is close to death.

Luke tells us (v. 39):  

39 One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” 40 But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” 42 And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” 43 And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.” 

So the first criminal next to Jesus responds with hostility: Matthew tells us (in Matthew 27.44) that the criminals “reviled” Jesus.

But at some point during the proceedings, something in Jesus has gotten through to the other criminal hanging next to Jesus. He responds with humility, recognizing his own guilt. He responds with acceptance, recognizing that Jesus is innocent.

And lastly, he asks Jesus for to save him. 

This is absolutely incredible. Think about it—both he and Jesus are in the exact same situation. They’re both hanging on the cross from nails driven into their hands and feet; they are both suffocating from the pressure on their lungs. At least from every visible indicator, Jesus is in no position to help him at all.

And yet this man, somehow, has become convinced that Jesus truly is the King he says he is—that the crucifixion is apparently no threat to Jesus’s crowning as King, but rather the means by which he will take the throne.

And in the moment when he realizes that Jesus really is the King, that he really is the Christ, do you know what he doesn’t say?

He doesn’t say, “Lord, get me off this cross! Save my life! Take my pain away! Get me out of this horrible situation!”

No; he says, “Lord, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

Over the course of a few short moments, this man’s priorities have totally shifted. What he thought was life before was merely a pale imitation. He had found life, and life was the eternal kingdom of the crucified King.

This is the only right way to respond to Jesus Christ. Humbly recognize our guilt before him; confess that he is the Savior whom we need, who bore our sins in our place; and ask him to save us.

If you respond to Jesus with hostility, you have to recognize that you are rebelling against the only eternal happiness offered to you. Christ exercises his reign, making demands on our lives, not because he is a cruel taskmaster, but because he is a gracious King who wants us to know how he created us. And he calls you to repent of your hostility toward him, to accept his role as King over your life, and to ask him to save you, and let him be King and Lord over your life.

If you respond to Jesus with indifference, you have to recognize the gravity of your indifference. You are indifferent to the most glorious realities imaginable: that the infinitely powerful and sovereign God, when he chose to reveal himself to us, did it through humility. That the all-powerful King of the universe attained his throne by defeating sin and death itself. That the only hope you have is to humbly repent of your indifference; to accept that the glory of Christ outweighs anything you can imagine; and to ask him to save you, to conquer your indifference, and open your eyes to the glory of his grace.

If you respond to Jesus with confusion, you have to recognize that you’ll never get an answer that satisfies your human desires for understanding, because you’re dealing with realities that transcend anything in our human experience. You will never understand the power and plan of God on your own, because they surpass anything we are able to understand.

At some point, pragmatism has to take hold; you have to make a choice. Pilate chose the path of least resistance—kill Jesus to keep the crowd happy. You have a choice to make too. Are you simply going to return to your life, unsatisfied in your confusion but unwilling to investigate further? 

Or will you take the risk, to humbly place yourself before a God you don’t understand, to trust that when he says you need a Savior, he’s telling the truth? Will you accept to trust in this King who surpasses your understanding, that he actually is the King he claims to be? Will you ask him to open your eyes, and to reveal himself to you, and to save you?

My prayer for all of you—and for myself—is that we might look on Jesus Christ, our crucified King, and realize that we owe him absolutely everything. Let us look on him, and who he is, and what he did for us, and what he is still doing, and respond to him—not with hostility, or indifference, or confusion, but worship.