Which of you convicts me of sin? If I tell the truth, why do you not believe me?

Two elderly Roman colonial officials were reminiscing in their retirement villa about their youthful experiences in the provinces. One of them got to telling about a servant girl they knew who had left the free and easy company of government circles to join up with a group that followed a young revolutionary from up country. "What was his name? Jesus, I think it was, wasn’t it Pilate? Didn’t he come up in your court for trial?" The old governor knitted his brows trying to bring up the elusive past. "Jesus of Nazareth? No, I really can’t recall the man." That’s the way it runs in one of Anatole France’s short stories. But fact is something other than fiction. The plain fact is that Pontius Pilate whom we remem…