The Last Week of Jesus's LifeParaugs

Friday, April 3, 33 AD

This is not Pilate’s first run-in with the House of Annas. Indeed, the two have been doing the delicate dance for seven years, jostling for power without openly antagonizing the other. The great exception to this is the Aqueduct Riots. Jerusalem needs water and Annas refuses to do his duty, so Pilate forces him to hand over temple funds to get the job done. In retaliation, Annas waits for Pilate to arrive at the aqueduct’s dedication and then leaks it to the masses that it is a Roman robbery. Annas sits back and lets the people riot in the streets. Pilate had expected this double-cross and is ready with his own response—his men use clubs to beat an unspecified number of Jews to death. (This may be the clash alluded to in Luke 13:1.) No doubt Annas files a complaint with the Romans to have Pilate sacked, but so far, the governor has held on.

Still, Pilate’s position as prefect is far from secure. The number two man in charge of the Roman Empire, Sejanus—potentially the friend or military mentor who got Pilate the job—has recently been executed for suspected treason, and Pilate must not only maintain the Pax Romana but ensure his personal commitment to the Caesar at all costs. Annas, of course, knows all of this and will wield it to great effect.

Being the good religionists that they are, Jesus’s nominally Jewish accusers refuse to set foot inside the Gentile building. This way, they remain undefiled and can carry out their all-important priestly duties for the rest of the festival, aka their most profitable week of the fiscal year. No doubt greatly annoyed by their idiosyncratic superstitions, Pilate knows he can’t meet them on the streets—it’s too dangerous for him, and Annas wants to keep the whole thing quiet because he’s terrified of the crowds. Instead, they meet between Pilate’s outer gate and inner gate, inside a private 26- by 36-foot open-roofed courtyard that archaeologists now call the Hidden Gate. The spot is perfect: safety for Pilate, privacy for Annas, and sanctity for the religionists. The House of Annas and their hangers-on flood the small space as Pilate comes out to meet them (John 18:29).

The most powerful Roman in Israel squares off against the most powerful Jew in the world. He has lost to Annas before, but Pilate has a plan this time. He will follow Roman legal procedure and then play his trump card at the last possible moment. He begins with the Roman interrogation or statement of charges. “What charges are you bringing against this man?” (John 18:29). They—likely Annas—reply pathetically, “If this man were not doing evil, we would not have delivered him over to you.”

Pilate scoffs. He is not interested in conjecture and the arcane rules and ramblings of backward religionists. “Take him yourselves and judge him by your own law” (John 18:30–31).

But only the Romans were permitted to execute someone. So they level accusations that will appeal to a Roman ear: “We found this man misleading our nation and forbidding us to give tribute to Caesar, and saying that he himself is Christ, a king” (Luke 23:2).

Not a charge of blasphemy. Not a charge of Sabbath-breaking. A presumed political message and aggressive agitator actions. The House of Annas has entered its charge: Jesus claims to be the king of the Jews.

It is a brilliant, lethal charge, locked and loaded with an implicit threat aimed squarely at Pilate. If the Roman prefect lets this man go, the House of Annas will fire off a letter to Tiberius, claiming Pilate isn’t faithful to Caesar. Pilate will not only lose his post but will likely lose his head just as his boss Sejanus recently did. But if Annas leaks word that Pilate has executed the most popular teacher in Israel, the crowds could lose their minds.

What a nightmare for the prefect.