Matthew 27:30Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

The crimson robe represented our humanity, which is tainted with bloodshed and inclined towards violence; He embraced and sanctified it by wearing it. The crown of thorns symbolized the sins that stem from worldly preoccupations—transgressions that Christ erases through His divine nature, as indicated by the head representing the Godhead. The staff epitomized our fragile and physical existence, which the Lord took upon Himself, as David attests: ‘the right hand of the Lord hath lifted me up’ (Ps. 117:16); and by receiving blasphemous words into His ears, the Lord freed us from the serpent's insidious whisper that had entered through Eve’s ears.

The Gardener, who endures pain and understands the trials He faces on our behalf, diverted the punishment meant for us, those who had previously distanced ourselves from God. The Lord's patience is such that He permitted those who fled to bind His hands and allowed His body to be scourged by the exiled, evoking the image of Adam and Eve, who, after their fall into sin, hid from God and were cast out of Paradise. The actions of the Jews, though intended with malevolence, unwittingly prophesy His glorious outcome. By inflicting wounds upon Him, they inadvertently crown Him; through their mockery and their misguided veneration, they acknowledge the One they are putting to death. Though they intended no honor, God ensured that honor was given: He was proclaimed as King, crowned as the Victor, and worshipped as God and Lord. According to Matthew, the cane in His hand serves a purpose; it reminds us that human frailty should not be shaken like a reed swayed by the wind but rather strengthened by the deeds of Christ, enabling the charges against us to be nailed to the Cross, thereby nullifying the ancient curse. As per Mark, this cane struck His head, assuring that our nature, touched by His divine essence, may stand firm and unyielding.

In this act of mockery, they inadvertently acknowledged the truth of His kingship, bowing before Him in ridicule and taunting, "Hail, King of the Jews." They spat upon Him and struck Him on the head with the reed, exemplifying unmatched patience and an anger beyond description. Additionally, John (John 19:3) mentions that He was struck on His hands. The lawless inflicted numerous insults upon Him to gratify the Jewish leaders who rejected God.

John alone (John 19:4-16) recounts what transpired next, stating, "Pilate went out again and said to them, ‘Behold, I will bring Him out to you,’" and continues until it states, "Then he delivered Him to them to be crucified." This indicates that Pilate delivered Jesus Christ to crucifixion on two occasions; initially, he feigned reluctance, but upon realizing their determination and hearing them declare, "If you let Him go, you are not a friend of Caesar; anyone who claims to be a king opposes Caesar" (John 19:12), he ultimately handed Him over. Therefore, Pilate, in effect, delivered Him up on two occasions. He made various attempts to absolve Jesus of blame and sought to prevent His execution, yet he was bound by legal authority to submit to the unjust demands of the crowd rather than forsake an innocent man, who, as Pilate himself testified, was free of any guilt deserving of death (John 12:6).

That Pilate could not betray Jesus is evident from his own statements: "Do you not realize that I have the authority to crucify You and the authority to release You?" (John 19:10). Consequently, Jesus did not acquit him of wrongdoing, saying, "He who delivered Me to you bears greater guilt" (John 19:11), implying a greater sin than Pilate's own. Pilate is not justified in accusing Jesus of intending to seize regal authority. Upon hearing the charge, he should have summoned the accusers, demanded evidence, and sought proof of any desire on Jesus' part to claim kingship—such as mobilizing armies, gathering funding, or stockpiling weapons. However, he quickly succumbed to fear, neglecting to investigate the accusation and accepting it with astonishment. The more brutal and audacious the Jews became, the more timid and cowardly he appeared, allowing himself to remain compliant and submissive. Further investigation of the prior passages in John is recommended, as they are particularly valuable for understanding the context discussed here.

‘Being reviled,’ states Apostle Peter, ‘He did not revile in return; when suffering, He did not threaten, but entrusted Himself to Him who judges justly’ (1 Pet. 2:23). This is the attitude we should adopt in facing offenses and slights, regardless of how unfair they may be!

He was fulfilling what had been expressed through the lips of prophets for ages: "I gave My back to those who beat Me, and My cheeks to those who pulled out My beard; I did not hide My face from mocking and spitting." Reflecting on the sufferings of the Lord, St. Chrysostom observes: "It was as if by a pact the devil rejoiced along with them all. The Jews, consumed with envy and hatred, hurled insults at Him; yet what compelled the soldiers to act thus? Was it not clear that the devil was feasting in the midst of their cruelty? They were so merciless and unyielding that they derived pleasure from humiliating Him. Their actions were varied: they struck His divine head, bruised Him with a crown of thorns, and beat Him with a staff, wielded by filthy hands. How can we justify our own anger when faced with slights, knowing that Christ endured such torment? His entire being was afflicted: His head with the crown and the blows, His face with striking and spitting, His palms with lashes, His whole body with scourging, His nakedness, the mock robe, and the pretense of reverence. What could be heavier? What could be more offensive? Such occurrences transcend all description. The Jews, eager to fully display their insolence, even caused Christ’s death through the judgment of Pilate. They condemned themselves while crying out before the governor, "Let His blood be on us and on our children." They raged, tortured, bound, and led Him away, becoming both the perpetrators of the abuses and the mockers. Pilate did not contribute anything; they orchestrated everything—the accusers, the judges, and the executioners.

It is vital always to remember this, for much good comes from reflecting on it. Witness how they mock and scorn Him with both words and deeds; how they cruelly strike Him while inflicting extreme suffering. If your heart is as hard as stone, let it melt like wax and cast out all pride. What occurred after the scourging, prior to the crucifixion, is revealed by John the Evangelist. Pilate re-entered the judgment hall to fulfill his orders, alas, too zealously. It unfolded in a way he likely did not anticipate. One sight of the meek, tormented Savior had already profoundly touched even the callous heart of the procurator. He mused, “Will this sight not soften His adversaries? Are they all unyieldingly filled with hatred for Him?” Consequently, the governor directed our Lord to follow him, seated at a place called the Lithostrotos, and announced to the Jews, "Behold, I bring Him out to you, that you may know that I find no fault in Him." At Pilate's words, the Lord emerged onto the platform, bound, bloodied, crowned with thorns, and draped in a tattered, crimson robe that concealed nothing of His wounds or nakedness. Yet, despite all this humiliation, the visible marks of blows and spit, the deadly exhaustion reflected in His weary eyes, His demeanor radiated a calmness and purity that exuded divine dignity. Pilate, filled with emotional turmoil and compassion for the Innocent One, exclaimed, "Behold, the Man!"

"He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and we hid, as it were, our faces from Him; He was despised, and we did not esteem Him. Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned, every one, to his own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed, and He was afflicted, yet He opened not His mouth; He was led as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so He opened not His mouth." How could one fail to recall this profound prophecy when gazing upon the Suffering Savior? Yet, the malice of His adversaries had so hardened their hearts that the chief priests and their servants, along with the countless throng, shouted once more, "Crucify Him! Crucify Him!"

Pilate’s heart, previously cold and indifferent—having shed blood both in warfare and through secret murders—began to soften. Yet, the cruel hypocrisy of the chief priests remained untouched. This relentless insistence from the Sanhedrin pushed Pilate to exclaim angrily, "You take Him and crucify Him, for I find no fault in Him." The stern gaze of the procurator revealed his resolution to release the prisoner and maintain his integrity. However, the cunning adversaries of the Lord had a retort ready: “We have a law, and according to our law, He ought to die because He made Himself the Son of God.” The members of the Sanhedrin aimed to convey to Pilate, a Gentile, their belief that he was blind to their law and thus needed to heed them, the scholars of the law, which demanded death for blasphemy. Yet, this accusation had a different effect on Pilate than they anticipated. Hearing these words only instilled greater fear within him. He recalled his wife's ominous dream, the whispered accounts of the miraculous deeds of this Righteous One, His serene demeanor while enduring the falsehoods spread by His enemies, and His extraordinary patience in suffering. Lastly, he reflected on all he had learned from Jesus during the initial interrogation.

Overwhelmed with fear and uncertainty, he returned to the judgment chamber, beckoning Jesus to follow him, and privately inquired, “Where are You from?” Was He born of men or divine beings? The Lord discerned that Pilate did not ask out of a genuine desire for the truth but out of fear, recognizing that earthly considerations would overshadow any righteous inclinations within this Gentile. Thus, He provided no answer. To acknowledge being the Son of God would serve only to heighten Pilate's culpability, which was not the aim of the compassionate, loving Judge.

Unable to grasp the silence, Pilate arrogantly declared, “Do you not answer me? Do you not know that I have the power to crucify You and the power to release You?” Concealing his trepidation, the Roman nobleman attempted to intimidate the Prisoner to elicit a response. In doing so, he revealed his own guilt. St. Chrysostom remarked, "If you held such power, why condemn Him to the cross when you found no fault in Him?" The Lord, filled with pity for the misguided pride of this Gentile, who had become a slave to his base desires and boasted of non-existent authority, replied to Pilate without reproach, “You could have no power at all against Me unless it had been given you from above; therefore, the one who delivered Me to you has the greater sin." Yes, you commit a significant offense, yet Judas, Annas, Caiaphas, and those dissenting Jews—these enemies of Mine—are guiltier than you.

Thus, with divine authority and infinite humility, Jesus pronounced judgment upon His judge. This judgment did not provoke ire in Pilate; instead, it inclined the ruler to favor the Defendant. "From that time," notes the holy Evangelist John, "Pilate sought to release Him." Pilate returned to the platform, where the Jews had gathered, prepared to confront him with fervent cries: “If you let this Man go, you are no friend of Caesar; whoever claims to be a king opposes Caesar.” The Jews realized that the charge of blasphemy failed to sway Pilate, and so they renewed their accusations against the Lord, accusing Him of insurrection against Caesar. Embarrassed by their demands and presuming threats of a complaint against Caesar—the wary Tiberius—Pilate recognized the extent to which the Jews would go to persuade officials in Rome against him. He recalled his own misdeeds, and his resolve began to fade. Seated upon the judgment seat, he ordered that Jesus be brought forth from the Praetorium. “Behold your King!” the governor declared, striving to take mock vengeance against the Jews for their insolent demands for the condemnation of the Innocent.

“Take Him, take Him, crucify Him!” the Jews clamored. “Shall I crucify your King?” Pilate responded. “We have no king but Caesar!” asserted the chief priests, who, in this instance, set aside their lofty arrogance, driven solely by the desire to annihilate the Galilean Teacher. Finally, Pilate dared to pronounce the sentence of death upon our Lord.

Then they thrust Him outside, burdened with the heavy cross upon His shoulders. It is we who have imposed upon Him the weight of our sins. “The path traversed by the Savior on His way to Golgotha remains known as the path of passion or sorrow,” states Philaret, Archbishop of Chernigov. “Thy ways were filled with grief, O Lord, Most Sweet Jesus, throughout Thy earthly existence; yet the road to Golgotha was the most sorrowful.” Upon reaching the so-called Judgment Gate, our Lord became so fatigued that He could no longer bear the cross and bowed down beneath it.