Meditation at the Praetorium

At the northwest corner of the Temple Mount in Old Jerusalem stood a forbidding fortress called the Fortress Antonia. It was built by Herod and named after his old friend Mark Antony.

The Fortress Antonia had a double function. It served as a barracks for the Roman garrison that occupied the city. It also served as the residence of the Roman governor of Judea whenever he was in town. In that role, the fortress was known as the Praetorium, the place where the “praetor” or governor lived.

Normally, the current governor, Pontius Pilate, lived down by the Mediterranean in the city of Caesarea. But during a major Jewish festival, such as the Feast of Passover, he would come up to Jerusalem to be close at hand should trouble break out.

In the spring of the year 30 A.D., that’s where he found himself, much to his dislike. He hated the Jews, and the Jews hated him, and there was nothing less appealing to Pilate than the prospect of being in their capital city during one of their tumultuous religious festivals.

Jerusalem always seemed like a powder keg ready to explode at such times, and this year was no different. But this year, there was a new wrinkle. This year, the high priest and his colleagues came to see Pilate a couple of nights before the Feast with a favor to ask.

It seems that they had been having problems with a certain man named Jesus of Nazareth. This Jesus, who was from Galilee, had gained a huge following among the people. Many were even claiming him to be the Messiah. Just the previous Sunday he had led a huge procession into the city. Then on Monday, he had created an uproar at the Temple by overturning the merchants’ stalls.

The real problem with Jesus, though, was that he was highly critical of the priests, the Pharisees, and the Sadducees—the very men who guarded Israel’s religious traditions. His teaching undercut their authority and his influence seemed to be growing rapidly. Clearly, he had to be stopped.

So they came to Pilate with a request. If they arrested Jesus on trumped up charges and brought him in very early next morning, when the city was still sleeping, would Pilate be willing to authorize capital punishment?

It sounded like a dirty business to Pilate, but after all, politics was about compromise. If he could satisfy the priests on this one issue—which seemed to be awfully important to them—maybe they would cooperate by making sure that this year’s Passover Feast went peacefully.

So it was that a few hours later, Pilate was up much earlier than he wanted to be and out in the cold courtyard that they called the Pavement in front of the Antonia Fortress. In front of him stood the accused man—Jesus of Nazareth—along with his accusers, the chief priests, elders, and teachers of the law who, together, made up the Sanhedrin—the supreme court of the Jews. There was also a rabble of onlookers who had gathered for the occasion.

They accused Jesus of blasphemy, a crime which called for the death penalty under the Jewish law. But when they got him to the Praetorium, they accused Jesus of sedition; of conspiring against Caesar by claiming to be a king. They knew that that would get Pilate’s attention.

They had already beaten and mistreated Jesus earlier that night, and he was looking the worse for it. Pilate could see the ugly bruises and welts on his face where they had punched him.

Pilate asked him “Are you the king of the Jews?”

“Yes, it is as you say.” Jesus replied calmly.

Partly due to the chill morning air, and partly to mock the Jews whom he knew wouldn’t come inside a Gentile building, Pilate retreated into the Praetorium and had the prisoner brought in to him. On further questioning, Pilate realized that Jesus hadn’t done anything deserving of death under Roman law.

So now Pilate was on the horns of a dilemma. He had agreed to play along with the priests, but he hadn’t realized that they were going to ask him to do something which violated his commission as governor. What would he do?

He went back outside and announced to the priests that he didn’t find any basis for a charge against Jesus. Which utterly enraged the members of the Sanhedrin— they undoubtedly smelled a double-cross. They began accusing Jesus of all sorts of things, including disturbing the peace from one end of the country to the other.

It was then that Pilate realized that Jesus was from Galilee, an area of Palestine then under the jurisdiction of Herod Antipas. Knowing that Herod happened to be in Jerusalem for the Passover, Pilate saw a way of passing the buck. He ordered Jesus to be marched across the city to appear before Herod, who was staying at his palace on the west side of town.

Imagine his chagrin, when an hour or so later, the prisoner was brought back!

There was no way that Pilate could avoid ruling in this case. No way he could get off the hook. Either he set Jesus free and risk alienating the powerful men he depended upon to rule Judea, or he condemn the prisoner and satisfy the Jews.

To make a long story short, Pilate condemned him. He swallowed his principles, made a symbolic show of washing his hands, and condemned Jesus to death by crucifixion.

On the pavement in the courtyard where the Antonia Fortress once stood are two inscribed markings. You can still see them there today. One is the drawing of a scorpion. A scorpion was the symbol of the Ninth Roman Legion—the very legion that we know was stationed in Judea in 30 A.D.

The other is a drawing of a circle with certain symbols in it—a crown, a scepter, a robe. It is the game board for a game the soldiers called the Game of the King. Once a year, the Roman governor would give his soldiers a prisoner to do with what they would really like to do to Caesar.

So they would play the Game of the King with him. They would throw the dice and move the marker around the game board. When it landed on the crown, they would jam a homemade crown of thorns onto the prisoner’s head. When it landed on the robe, they would drape his bloody shoulders with a purple robe and laughingly bow in homage.

When it landed on the scepter, they would put a rod in his hand, and then snatch it away again and beat him with it. And when the soldiers finally tired of their game, they would take the prisoner out and crucify him.