Now when Pilate had heard these words, he brought Jesus forth and sat down in the judgment seat, in the place that is called Lithostrotos, and in Hebrew Gabbatha.
ο ουν πιλατος ακουσας τουτον τον λογον ηγαγεν εξω τον ιησουν και εκαθισεν επι του βηματος εις τοπον λεγομενον λιθοστρωτον εβραιστι δε γαββαθα
10 Church Fathers comment on this verse
But what faintheartedness and what improper fear! Pilate thought that he would truly be in danger if he disregarded this. He went out as if intending to examine the case, for this is what "sat on the judgment seat" means. Yet without making any examination, he delivers Him up, thinking by this to bend them. That this was his intention, listen to what he says: "Behold your King" (v. 14).
But how little courage there was in Pilate, when he thought it dangerous for himself to leave such an accusation unexamined. He goes out as if intending to examine the case, for this is what the words "sat on the judgment seat" mean. Yet without making any examination, he delivers Him up, thinking by this to bend them.
By saying this, the Evangelist places the whole guilt for the murder of Christ chiefly upon the heads of the Jews.
Pilate, he says, was now almost visibly overcome against his will by their insistence. He thrust aside the duty of justice and showed very little concern for the consequences.
Therefore he yielded to the wishes of the murderers, though he had often told them and clearly proclaimed that he found Jesus entirely innocent of anything for which he should subject Him to the death penalty.
He placed the honor of the Righteous One below the desire of certain men. He delivered to the madness of the Jews One convicted of no lawlessness.
Thus he must prove to be a witness against himself of his own impiety.
Therefore he goes up to the customary judgment seat, to pronounce aloud the sentence against Christ.
But now he could not disregard Caesar, the source of his own authority, to the same degree that he had disregarded the law of another people. Meanwhile the Evangelist continues and says, "When Pilate heard this word, he brought Jesus out and sat on the judgment seat, at a place called Lithostrotos, and in Hebrew, Gabbatha."
Thinking that he would offend Caesar and place himself in danger if he did not pay attention to such an accusation by the Jews, Pilate brought Jesus Christ out of the praetorium. He publicly sat on the judgment seat, so that all present might be witnesses to the examination of the case.
These words and this ominous cry struck Pilate like thunder. He understood that Christ's enemies were ready to transfer this case to Rome, to the judgment of Caesar himself.
He, Pilate, would have to defend himself against an accusation of state crime.
It might have been possible to justify himself if Caesar were someone other than the suspicious and evil Tiberius.
Besides, these bloodthirsty enemies of Jesus had reached such a degree of malice that they could incite the people to revolt against him, Caesar's representative.
Then they could blame him for everything. Caesar would condemn him for provoking the people by a softness unsuitable for a Roman and bringing them to open rebellion.
This was probably how Pilate reasoned, placed in a rather delicate position by the unexpected turn of the matter.
Undoubtedly he wanted, in his own way, to be a just and lawful judge in the case of Jesus.
At the same time, he had not the slightest desire to sacrifice his welfare for the sake of justice. He did not want to bring Caesar's wrath upon himself.
Self-love prevailed, and he resolved to submit to demands that were plainly conscienceless.
The Roman's conscience was not deaf even this time. Jesus Christ's bold reference to the heavenly Judge, and His clear hint at the unhappy fate awaiting His persecutors, seem to have dispelled every unfavorable change in Pilate's thoughts. So did His firm resolve to fulfill His great calling, and His insight into the secret of Pilate's conscience. Such a change might have arisen in Pilate because of the Lord's silence before his questions and even his threat. If the judge did not hear from the Accused a confession that He was the Son of God, neither did he hear a denial. Meanwhile, he could suppose that the extraordinary Prisoner had some special reasons for not revealing the mystery of His person and origin. Therefore, when Pilate came out of the praetorium, according to St.
John's remark, he did not change his former position as defender of Jesus' innocence. Rather, he began still more zealously to seek a way to save Him from death. The evangelist's silence does not allow us to say with certainty what means the procurator used to achieve this goal. Nor can we say what he said to the chief priests. The procurator clearly could not affirm that the Accused did not acknowledge Himself guilty of assuming the name Son of God. Besides the fact that the Lord had not denied this title before him, the chief priests could suddenly produce witnesses that He had called Himself the Son of God. Nor could Pilate state that the accusation against Jesus Christ, for calling Himself the Son of God, did not constitute a crime worthy of death. It was not his business to judge the gravity of crimes concerning the Jewish religion. But with all the more right Pilate could declare to the chief priests that the Prisoner on trial, if guilty of anything, had already been punished for it too much. It would be unjust to punish the same thing so cruelly twice. He could again decline the final decision of the case, under the pretext of needing consultation with Herod, to whose district Jesus Christ belonged. As Caesar's representative, he could even openly take the Lord under the protection of Roman justice. He could treat Him as a man persecuted by the Sanhedrin for personal motives. However it may have been, Pilate's defense was so effective that the chief priests were forced to abandon the charge that the Lord had violated the ancestral laws. They judged it better to return again to a single criminal accusation: treason against Caesar. During Pilate's last interrogation, the Pharisaic and Sadducean false politicians had full opportunity to confer among themselves. They found a means to strengthen this accusation and make it irresistible to the procurator. "So you wish," cried the chief priests proudly, "to save Him from execution? Act as you please. But know this: if you release Him, you are not Caesar's friend. Everyone who calls himself a king opposes Caesar." The incited rabble shouted the same thing, reproaching Pilate for unfaithfulness to his sovereign. At these unexpected words, all Pilate's firmness suddenly vanished. "Caesar's friend" was a title in which the most noble men in Rome took pride, as did the governors of the greatest provinces. Herod the Great himself considered it a special honor to be called, and to be known among the people, as Augustus' friend. All the more must a Roman equestrian have valued this title. He was still very far from having the ruler of the world call him his friend. "If you release Him, you are Caesar's enemy." These words, spoken before all the people by the mouth of the whole Sanhedrin, were more terrible than thunder. They revealed that the chief priests were ready to transfer the case to Caesar's judgment. There they would accuse Pilate together with Jesus Christ, as a traitor careless of his lord's honor and interests. These threats had all the more force for Pilate because, as governor of Judea, he was not free from offenses. For these he could justly and successfully be accused before Caesar, especially by enemies who acted in Rome with both gold and intrigue. An accusation of treason before Caesar would not have been so terrifying if Augustus, or someone like him, had then sat on the Roman throne. One might have hoped that the Roman demigod would magnanimously examine the matter in its true form. He would not blame Jesus Christ for merely calling Himself king. But Rome then groaned beneath the iron scepter of Tiberius. He was a monster who trusted and pitied not even his own relatives. Feeding on suspicion and pretense, he tormented everyone at the slightest suspicion. The most shameless accusations always found response and reward with him. Besides the future danger from Caesar, Pilate had to fear the present danger from the people. The unrestrained crowd, incited by the Pharisees, grew more insolent and rebellious from hour to hour. Its savage cry already showed that it was ready for any violence. A handful of praetorians meant nothing in comparison with the countless multitude of Jews gathered from all over the world for the feast of Passover. Besides the danger of a popular uprising, Pilate would also have to answer for it before Caesar. What if Tiberius learned that the sole cause of the uprising was the Roman procurator's refusal to the Jewish people? They were demanding execution for the personal enemy of Tiberius, as they regarded this supposed claimant to the Jewish throne. Such thoughts could have troubled even someone other than Pilate. He was a man whose conscience was not finally stifled, who had some notion of justice and a certain inclination toward it. But from childhood, after the example of Roman grandees, he was accustomed to place his own advantage above morality. He looked not so much at conscience as at circumstances. He considered pleasing Caesar the highest law of his actions. He appeared just where he could do so without harm to himself, at least without serious harm. He was a man unacquainted with true religion, and with the better experiences and hopes of the human race. These experiences create the true heroes of virtue. Without these hopes, even the most exalted morality is unstable and unreliable. To defend an innocent man, one would have had to renounce Caesar's friendship publicly and despise danger to one's own life. For such a lofty sacrifice, even in paganism, the firm spirit of Regulus and the disinterestedness of Cincinnatus were needed. But the spirit of the Reguli and Cincinnatuses had long since left the Capitol, now filled with flatterers of Augustus and slaves of Tiberius. Let us add one more thought. Some ancient teachers of the Church supposed that Judas sold his Teacher in the hope that He would free Himself from His enemies' hands by supernatural powers. It is still more reasonable to suppose this about Pilate. Having resolved to condemn Jesus Christ to death, he probably hoped that the gods, if He was their son, would not delay in saving Him from execution. Such an execution was so shameful to their divine dignity. Considering all this, one easily understands how the cry of the people and chief priests overpowered the judge's weakened will. Having resolved to yield to necessity, Pilate ascended the judgment seat to conclude the trial. The Lord, who until then had remained in the praetorium, was brought out to the Lithostrotos to hear the sentence. The accusers also drew near. Instead of noise, silence fell. All awaited what Pilate would say and how this most extraordinary case would end. "Behold your King!" Pilate involuntarily exclaimed, looking at Him whom he now had to condemn to death, contrary to conscience and desire.
Pilate personally depended on the emperor's favor, a favor apparently acquired at first through Sejanus, who lost power about this time.
All this must have appeared to him constantly and importunately, especially since he had already earned hatred from his province and feared its revenge.
His fears were not groundless. Tiberius was still sitting on the throne when, a few years later, Pilate was removed.
Envoys from Palestine were sent to Rome, hoping in the proven devotion of the Jews to the imperial house, to bring complaints against the recalled and deposed governor.
The shadow of that distant day paralyzed Pilate on this present morning.
What if, accused before Caesar of extortion and bloodshed, and knowing too well his guilt in these crimes, he should read in his stern master's eyes that this new accusation had been brought against him?
It would complete and crown all his other guilt.
And so he, who had so long resisted all other arguments, now immediately yielded before the well-considered words: "If you release Him, you are not Caesar's friend. Whoever makes himself a king opposes Caesar."
He ascended the tribunal from which alone a Roman judge could lawfully pronounce a final decision.
In the present case, the tribunal seems to have been a movable seat, brought out from the praetorium and placed before it on the Lithostrotos, or stone pavement.
"When he heard this word": with this threat the matter was finished. Firmness and resolve abandoned the Roman official, fear for his life prevailed, and the Lord's delivery to crucifixion was decided.
Pilate formally and solemnly concludes the trial.
"He brought Jesus out": out of the judgment hall, because the formal decision of the court had to be announced in the presence of the accusers.
They did not want to enter the praetorium (Jn 18:28).
"He sat on the judgment seat," the judge's seat, which had been placed in a location called Lithostrotos, and in Hebrew, Gabbatha.
Lithostrotos was an elevated place open before the praetorium, or the procurator's house. The Greek name of this place came from the fact that it was paved with stone, probably mosaic.
This was customary among Roman judges and officials.
The Hebrew name of this place, Gabbatha, is not a translation of the Greek Lithostrotos. It is an original Aramaic word meaning an elevation or hill.
It was given to the place precisely because it was elevated.
Since this was the time of the Lord's decisive condemnation, the Evangelist marks both the day and the hour.
The Roman prefect, who had resolved for his own personal reasons to yield to powerful injustice, ascended and sat on the judgment seat. This place was in an open square paved with multicolored marble, and for this reason it was called Lithostrotos in Greek. The Hebrews called the same square Gabbatha, because it rose above the surrounding area by several steps. The Lord Jesus was brought here from the praetorium.
Passages read together with this verse.
Greek text, 22 words with lemma, transliteration and Strong’s number. Tap to expand.
THEOSIS