In 1961, archeologists were excavating an ancient theater in the city of Caesarea, along the Mediterranean coast of Israel. Caesarea became the capital of the Roman province of Judea in 6 AD and would have been the main residence of the Roman governor. There the archeologists discovered a stone bearing a partial Latin inscription. The inscription refers to Tiberius and Pontius Pilate, the prefect of Judea. Experts believe that the full text most likely read, “Pontius Pilate, the Prefect of Judea, has dedicated to the people of Caesarea a temple in honor of Tiberius.” Although the stone had been put to secondary use in the theatre, it had originally been part of a first-century temple built by Pilate in honor of Tiberius, who ruled the empire from 14 to 37 AD.
This breathtaking discovery corroborated key parts of the Biblical account of Jesus’ trial and execution. Historians already knew that Pilate had been the governor of Judea from 26 to 36 BC, based on the first-century writings of Flavius Josephus and Philo of Alexandria. But the “Pilate stone” confirmed Pontius Pilate’s official title; he was a prefect, the supreme judicial authority over the province of Judea. Pilate had power to condemn people to death by crucifixion, as he did with Jesus, or to pardon and release them, as was the case with Barabbas.
John chapter 18 records the dramatic moment when Jesus was brought before the Roman governor.
Initially, Pontius Pilate saw nothing to fear from Jesus. The Romans would have had absolutely no interest in Jewish theological disputes. As Roman governor, Pilate’s major concerns would have been (a) preventing revolt and (b) ensuring the steady collection of taxes. Jesus hadn’t attracted any armed following, nor had he incited any unrest. So Pilate attempted to dismiss the whole affair, telling the Jewish leaders, “Take him yourselves and judge him by your own law.”
The Jews, however, persisted. It wasn’t enough to have Jesus punished (beaten or whipped) and then released. They wanted nothing less than the death penalty, which only the Roman prefect could authorize. “We have no right to execute anyone,” they protested.
The Jews then played their ace card, revealing that Jesus had claimed to be “the king of the Jews.” This was an accusation which Pilate could not ignore. In the world of first century Judea, this was a dangerous title with explosive meaning. Why?
Every Jew knew of King David, the great warrior who unified the twelve tribes of Israel, crushed their foreign enemies and inaugurated a golden age of prosperity.
Two centuries before Jesus, the Jews had risen in revolt against the brutal oppression of the megalomaniacal Syrian King Antiochus IV Epiphanes. Led by Judas Maccabeus (Maccabee means “the hammer”) and his brothers, the Jews won a number of stunning military victories and established a royal house independent of foreign overlords.
In more recent times, bands of zealous Jews organized attacks against their Romans occupiers. Within a generation after Jesus, fervent revolutionary sentiment would culminate in the great Jewish War of 66 AD.
The leaders of these uprisings often styled themselves as Messianic figures who aspired to throw off the yoke of Rome and restore Israel to freedom.
In light of this history, the titles “son of David,” “Messiah,” or “king of the Jews” were closely associated with violent insurrection. Of course, the Jewish leadership had utterly rejected Jesus’ identity; they had already condemned him as a false Messiah who was leading Israel astray.
But in order to secure capital punishment, the Jews needed to convince the Roman governor that Jesus was a threat. By pointing out Jesus’ royal claim, the Jews were clearly implying that he was a potential revolutionary. If a Roman governor released a prisoner who subsequently instigated an insurrection, it would likely mean the end of his political career.
So Pilate decided to interrogate Jesus himself: “Are you the king of the Jews?” Jesus’ response to the Roman governor was somewhat cryptic: “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jews. But now my kingdom is from another place.”
Unfortunately, this is one of most misunderstood passages in all of scripture. What exactly did Jesus mean when he declared “my kingdom is not of this world”? Many Christians have been blown off course by this little phrase. They think that Jesus was announcing a heavenly kingdom whereby we can escape from the corruption and sorrow of the present creation. Sadly, this mistaken view introduces a whole host of related problems. It distorts our understanding of the gospel itself and how we ought to think about our present mission.
Here’s a good definition of the Kingdom of God: when the creation functions and flourishes in the way that God intends. In the beginning, God made human beings as the apex of his creation. The Lord fashioned humankind in his image so that they might govern the world wisely on his behalf. As the Psalmist says, “You have made [mankind] a little lower than God and crowned him with glory and honor. You made him the ruler over the works of your hands.”
At the heart of Christianity is the belief that God is rescuing his creation, so that it might become a place of eternal joy, peace, abundance and life. The fundamental task of Jesus was not to provide a way for us to leave the world behind and enter some ethereal realm where we shall strum harps all day. No: the task of Jesus was to restore the image of God in humans so that we might fulfill the role for which we were marked out from the start, the role of exercising dominion over the earth.
And when humans are set right again, the creation will be redeemed as well. The Apostle Paul puts it this way: “The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed…the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom that comes when God’s children are glorified.”
The kingdom that Jesus inaugurated through his death and resurrection involves establishing his sovereignty over the entire created order. By raising him from the dead, God declared that Jesus was indeed the world’s rightful king.
We must stop thinking about Jesus as king in merely in some paltry “spiritual” sense and reclaim the robust truth that Jesus claims complete supremacy over every tiny piece of our cosmos. That is precisely why, after his resurrection, Jesus declared, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.”
In light of this reality, our duty in the present time is to implement the authority of Jesus over all things. Christians must serve as royal ambassadors, calling every individual human being to submit themselves in loyal allegiance (“faith”) to King Jesus.
But it also means that we must work to achieve God’s wise order within the creation itself. In other words, God’s kingdom is not just about individual evangelism but about confronting evil within the larger structures and institutions of society. Those Christians who engage in politics, education, health care, or commerce are kingdom workers no less than pastors and missionaries.
We should now be able to more fully understand what Jesus said to Pontius Pilate. The thrust of his statement was that the qualities of his kingdom are radically different from the kingdoms of the world. How so?
Consider that Jesus stood before Pontius Pilate, a representative of the Roman empire. The Roman empire had been established through military conquest and violence. For example, when Julius Caesar subjugated Gaul (modern France), it is estimated that roughly one million people were slaughtered and another million were sold into slavery. The Gallic Wars brought Julius Caesar tremendous fame, fortune and political power.
The city of Rome and her leading citizens grew wealthy by plundering the subjects of their empire. Aristocratic Romans, full of selfish ambition and greed, competed with one another for lucrative and powerful political appointments. Meanwhile, the magnificent building achievements of the Roman empire were constructed on the backs of countless slaves who often lived and died in misery.
Such are the kingdoms of the world.
The man who stood before Pontius Pilate was indeed God’s anointed king, who one day will rule the whole earth. But his path to power would be a repudiation of all human self-aggrandizement, greed, violence, oppression and injustice. His crown would be a nettle of thorns and he would be enthroned upon a cross where he would pour out his life in sacrificial love.
