This brazen evasion of a direct answer to Pilate's question could not dispose him in favor of the accusers. He at once set the matter on its lawful ground with a calm, though somewhat contemptuous, objection: "Take Him yourselves, and judge Him according to your law." To this the accusers answered stubbornly: "It is not lawful for us. " ουκ εξεστίν, "to put anyone to death." Their answer explained what may already have been contained in the word "evildoer." It also explained what was clearly indicated by bringing the Prisoner before Pilate's judgment seat. They had come to bring a criminal accusation. With this the preliminary explanation ended. At this point in the present history, a question arises concerning the conflict of judicial authorities and jurisdiction. Why did the Jews go to Pilate, when their Sanhedrin had pronounced sentence on Jesus: "He is worthy of death" (Mt 26:66)? Did the Jews have the right to pronounce such a sentence? Or, having this right, did they lack only the power to carry it out? How far did the governor's authority extend? Could he annul the Sanhedrin's sentence, or only suspend its execution? Which of them, the governor or the Sanhedrin, possessed the jus vitae aut necis, the right of life and death? What relation existed in the days of Jesus between the two powers, Jewish and Roman? These questions are very difficult. Scholars, in answering them, express views that differ even to the point of opposition. In the dispute between Salvador and Dupin, the former remained faithful in this case to the fatal cry of his people: "His blood be on us and on our children." He tried to prove that the Sanhedrin had full right to judge even criminal offenses. Its death sentence, he held, needed only confirmation by the Roman governor. Salvador's opponent maintained that the Jewish court had no right at all to judge grave, or at least criminal, offenses. He held that all its actions in the present trial were an abuse of power. The only valid, or lawful, trial was the one conducted before Pilate. We do not intend to examine the enormous mass of historical research made on this unquestionably difficult point. The historical monuments have not preserved precise and decisive indications for resolving the questions posed. Thus it would be too hasty to ascribe chronological exactness to the Talmudic testimony that "forty years before the destruction of the temple, judgment in criminal cases was taken from Israel." Yet it is very remarkable in this respect. It indicates the time around which, by the admission of the teachers of the Jewish law, authority over life and death was finally taken from them. No doubt this authority had already been limited or abolished under Herod's despotic rule. In general, however, several considerations may be offered concerning the relation of the two authorities under discussion. It seems these have not always been kept in mind by researchers. These considerations are as follows. First, there was no treaty on this subject between the Romans and the Jews. The latter were a conquered people. Their judicial rights, including authority over life and death, had been taken from them de facto, in fact, and they were obliged to submit. But de jure, in law, they never acknowledged this. For them, at least for the great mass of the people, the Sanhedrin still remained the national authority. This was especially so in accusations concerning religious matters. Second, from the Roman point of view, the matter had an entirely different appearance. The Roman view of the judicial rights of conquered peoples in general, and of the Jews in particular, was this. They should have such rights as the Romans, their masters, judged it best to give them. In most cases these rights were very extensive. The Roman governor confirmed, or even himself saw to, the exact observance of the former laws of the country. At the same time, the policy of the ruling power made every possible concession to local self-government. These concessions naturally reached their widest scope where the province showed no inclination to struggle against its conquerors. In Roman law, as in Roman wars, in questions of justice as in questions of policy, the rule of the wise and haughty masters of the world was parcere subjectis et debellare superbos, to spare the submissive and subdue the proud. Third, it is evident that, in this matter, broad latitude was given to higher Roman officials, proconsuls or procurators, when they discharged the duties of supreme justice. The republic and the emperor allowed, and even required, them to strengthen or relax their authority according to what a particular case or circumstances demanded. The rule by which they were guided in ordinary cases brought before their tribunals was perfectly expressed a few years after the event now occupying us. It was expressed by Annaeus Gallio, the humane proconsul of Achaia and brother of the philosopher Seneca. "If it were a matter of wrongdoing or crime, I should have reason to bear with you, O Jews. But if it is a question about words, names, and your law, see to it yourselves. I do not wish to be a judge of such matters." Although Roman officials avoided such questions while they did not touch the rights of supreme authority, the slightest hint changed everything. If one of those words or names, or one of those questions of another law, could harm the supreme power. The governor had every right to "sink his axe with swift and fierce cruelty into the suspicious part of the political body." These general considerations must never be lost from view when reading the fragmentary and often mutually incompatible historical notices on this subject. They show that the extreme views maintained by modern critics were also defended in antiquity by opposing authorities, Roman and local. Yet the strongest evidence supports the position that, at this time, all cases involving capital punishment were left by Roman law and practice to the final decision of the Roman governor. In such cases the Jews possessed only the investigation of the matter, cognitio causae. There can be no doubt that the governor's authority in these cases was not limited to confirming and executing the sentence, executio. He also had the right of review, recognitio, at least in cases where he wished to use it. In ordinary crimes, robberies and murders, the Jewish authorities could be content with handing the guilty over to the Roman tribunal. They did not interfere further in the matter. The Roman governor, on the other hand, could send ordinary criminals to the cross without contradiction and without further investigation on his own part. These were men against whom the native authorities appeared as accusers, having already investigated the matter. But a difficulty obviously arose when the crime forming the subject of accusation belonged to the sphere of religion. It consisted in an attempt, as prophet or Messiah, to alter the institutions of the Church. In such a case, relying on the common conviction of all Jews, the Sanhedrin undoubtedly retained for itself the exclusive right of first-instance judgment. It tried by every means to prevent any review, recognitio, by the Roman power. Either it did not turn to that power at all, or it limited that power to confirming its sentences. So the Jews thought, and so they had to think. But the Roman governor, if such a case were brought before his court, could hold a completely different view. The narrative of the fourth Gospel, which gives the actual words of the persons involved, wonderfully portrays the historical relations of the parties at that time. Its account, joined with the reports of the other Gospels, frees us from the need to prove the general propositions stated above. Whether or not it was lawful for the Jews to condemn for a criminal offense, in the present case they did so. Whether or not it was lawful for Pilate to question again an accused man whom they had condemned, in the present case he did so. Evidently two judicial proceedings took place here. The conversation already cited portrays with striking skill the struggle that was to be expected. The Jews tried to obtain simple confirmation of their sentence. Pilate resolved to assume full judicial responsibility, both for judgment in the first instance and for review of the case. The resistance of the Jews in the present case undoubtedly rested not so much on their usual ecclesiastical independence. It rested rather on their fear that Pilate, by reinvestigating the case, might refuse to carry out their plan. However that may be, the dispute that began caused the procurator to make a public declaration. He made it before men belonging to both peoples, who at that time surrounded his judgment seat. He declared his right and duty to take up this criminal case as judge. From then on it was no longer a simple administrative matter. It was not the object of a brief police inquiry or a military court. It was now a true trial of life and death. It was conducted by the supreme civil governor, who stood with his jurisdiction between the accused and the chief authorities of the conquered people. The accusation demanded by Pilate had to be brought, because he firmly insisted on his right as judge in this case. The accusation is described in considerable detail in the Gospel according to Luke (Lk 23:2). The conversation set forth is found only in the Gospel of John. It is remarkable that this Gospel, which is generally thought to have appeared later than the others, preserves words with the strongest internal mark of authenticity. Thanks to modern research, they have also received the fullest historical value. Such a crude answer from the crowd could not fail to wound the procurator's sense of dignity. He prepared to give the accusers a reply of the same kind. Pilate was no longer a newcomer in Palestine. Since the whole public ministry of Christ had taken place during his procuratorship, one may be sure he had long kept this Galilean under the watch of his agents. He feared that some new zealot and rebel might come from Him, like Judas the Galilean, who had caused the Romans so much trouble. But through his agents Pilate could long since have become convinced that this Galilean avoided purely political popularity in every way. His very conversations with the people contained nothing political. They concerned only moral relations. His whole activity was directed toward exposing the emptiness and hypocrisy of the Jewish rabbis, scribes, and Pharisees, whom the Romans themselves despised. When masses of people gathered around Christ, denunciations and warnings were surely sent again and again to Caesarea by the sea. Yet these were accompanied by statements that the matter threatened no complications. This new Galilean Teacher was completely harmless in the political sense, which alone mattered to the Romans. If now, therefore, the chief priests and scribes had seized Him and brought Him before the judgment of the Roman authority, this was, of course, only "out of envy" (Mk 15:10). It came from motives of wounded self-love. Judging by everything known to Pilate about Christ, he regarded Him only as an impassioned but entirely well-intentioned dreamer. There were many such people then, and not only in Palestine. If He was dangerous to anyone, it was only to these inflated and petty legalists. He exposed their absurd casuistry before the people with astonishing force and directness. But He was not dangerous to Roman authority at all. Therefore Pilate at once grasped the whole meaning of the case before him. Wounded by the coarse uproar of the insolent answer to his formal judicial question, he replied to the gathering with unconcealed bitterness. In that case, he said, the procurator had no reason to interfere in this matter: "Take Him yourselves, and judge Him according to your law." In this reply of Pilate one cannot fail to see a striking resemblance to the answer given several years later to a similar Jewish gathering by Gallio, the brother of the famous Seneca.
THEOSIS