Themes: Atonement / washing away/ dreams and visions/ the politics of love
Today, when we hear the word “politics” most likely we cringe. The word has taken on severe connotations --a thirst for prestige, a thirst for revenge, a thirst for power, a tangled system of government, taxes, corruption, agendas, and ladders to climb on and people to step on and over to get there.
But if you look at the very “first” dictionary definition of “politics,” you’ll find it means, “social relations” involving authority or power, the relations between people or ideas, human social relationships.
Unlike the early Greek meaning, which specifically referred to “affairs of the state or city,” today, “politics” can mean a “way” of interacting together relationally or the manner in which our “social” relationships take place.
In 2017, an article came out in The Guardian about a “politics of love.” Written by Max Harris and Philip McKibbin, the essay was a first attempt to dream of another way to get people in our society to think about unity instead of about partisan divisions. The two authors asked the question, “Instead of a politics of division in our current culture, can we somehow foster a politics of love, a way of relating that emphasizes universal care, concern, and commitment fueled by creativity and collaboration?”
The two noted that today in our culture we use the term “justice” in a way that creates division. So, they pose the idea, “what if we could provoke a radical reimagining of justice, not as retribution or revenge, but as the promotion of human dignity? In other words, not a punitive but a restorative “justice?” And what would that look like? What could it mean for us socially and relationally, in society and in culture?
While not much has come of Harris and McKibbin’s ideas as far as implementation, these questions can provoke our own thinking during this time of Lent about what Jesus was trying to teach us about “politics” and about “love.”
Jesus lived in a time of tremendous disunity and division. Everywhere you looked there was “political” and “social” unrest. Rome had increasing oversight on Jerusalem and the surrounding Jewish communities. Taxation was high, corruption was rampant, even among the Jewish Temple authorities, who had interest in keeping the status quo with Rome in order to feed their own status and pockets. Revolts were quashed with stringent and brutal force. Sicarii, an early version of “hit men” or “terrorists,” aimed to take out Roman sympathizers. Soldiers roamed the streets of the cities and along the roadways, often imposing their own version of “justice” at will. Zealots could be revolt mongers among the people and were sought out and squashed. Within Jerusalem itself, Shammai Pharisees had imposed severe sanctions on inclusion, keeping gentiles out, along with the ill, dying, and those accused of infractions.
While the rich and powerful got richer, the poor got ousted. In the midst of this, Herod tried to keep a delicate balance between Rome and the Jews by keeping things steady and even, mostly to protect his own cushy situation. Pilate wearied of dealing with the petitions and demands of the Jewish Sanhedrin and those in Jewish “power.” But he was forced into the decision of “judge” over life and death sentences, as it was unlawful for the Jewish Sanhedrin to pronounce and carry out a sentence. This had to be effected by Roman authority. And so in our scripture today, Pilate, known as “Pontius Pilate,” is put into the unsavory position of dealing with Jesus –whom he can see has somehow brought on the ire and bloodthirst of a group of his colleagues in the Jerusalem Temple who saw him as a threat to their Jewish Temple “politics.”
The priests and pharisees who bring the rabbi before him in the wee early hours of morning just before dawn are demanding he be put to death. Pilate sees Jesus as a relatively harmless preacher, healer, and teacher –not the usual instigator who is picketing the Temple, or murdering officials, or rousing revolts, or threatening Rome’s authority. In fact, Jesus won’t even speak in his own defense.
To make matters worse, or weirder, Pilate’s wife sends a message during his interview with the man, warning her husband, that she’s had a dream about this interaction, and that Pilate should not convict.
Still woozy from sleep, annoyed at being woken perhaps, and now spooked for sure, Pilate, Roman or not, does not feel “just” about convicting someone who clearly has not demonstrated any wrong toward Rome. Why should he submit to the Jewish authorities’ request, and especially their “demands?” Pilate does not like to be demanded by anyone, least of all those he considers to follow a petty religion of arguing and spiting and splitting hairs. That’s why he had Herod! Herod was supposed to handle these people.
But now for some reason, Herod had sent Jesus to him, to Pilate. Even Herod couldn’t calm down the bloodthirst and decisive hate directed toward the quiet rabbi. Likely Herod felt a bit threatened and cornered in his own position. After all, he needed to quell any attacks upon his own power and person, while attempting to keep them out of the Roman eye. Herod’s imposed balancing act, despite his eggshell personality, is definitely unenviable.
So Pilate has a dilemma. The Jewish authorities are calling for Jesus’ death. Pilate is the only one who can make that call. And yet, he knows, whether instinctively or legally, that Jesus has not committed an act deserving of that sentence.
In a surprising act, which shows not only his astute acumen but that he knows more about the Jewish faith than perhaps we give him credit for, Pilate quotes their own Levitical law. He draws from a passage in Deuteronomy, a direction for how to handle cases of dispute or assault in which it’s unclear or unknown who has perpetrated an act, or in a case where one’s innocence or guilt is unclear. And here is how that is to be handled. As the Levitical priest pronounces judgment, the elders are to wash their hands, saying:
“Our hands did not shed this blood, nor did our eyes see it done. Accept this atonement for your people Israel, whom you have redeemed, Lord, and do not hold your people guilty of the blood of an innocent person.” (Deut)
The act is one of atonement, so that even though a judgment is made, those involved petition God to allow them to be atoned, being that they cannot be sure they have made the right decision. In a sense, they are asking God to forgive them, just in case they are wrong! And the act that symbolizes this plea of atonement is the washing of hands.
“Please God, accept this atonement for your people Israel, whom you have redeemed, Lord, and do not hold your people guilty of the blood of an innocent person.”
In the case of Pilate and his judgment of Jesus, which he grudgingly makes against his best inner council, he turns the priests’ Levitical atonement plea upside down and backwards. In this case, Pilate is the one washing his hands in a plea to the God of the Jews (just in case). Pilate puts the blame squarely on the shoulders of the Jewish authorities, saying, “his blood be on your hands.” Listen to his words relayed by the gospel writer Matthew:
When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. "I am innocent of this man's blood," he said. "It is your responsibility!" All the people answered, "His blood is on us and on our children!" Then he released Barabbas to them. But he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified. (Matthew 27:24-26)
That’s what you call a politics of “fear” on behalf of Pilate. Or perhaps a politics of “cop out.”
But the more interesting part is the reaction of the Jewish officials, including the priests, the ones responsible up until this time for the atonement of the Jewish community. They willingly stand before God, consumed by their own power politics, and take upon themselves full responsibility unatoned for the death of Jesus, Son of God, Messiah, and Lord of Life.
Wow!
That makes Jesus’ atonement so much stronger, doesn’t it? Because Jesus isn’t just atoning for the people who liked him. Most of all, he’s atoning for the people who didn’t.
You see, Jesus advocates an entirely different kind of “politics.” Jesus’ politics is a different “way” of relating both to God and to neighbor. Jesus’ politics of love isn’t just about the kind of restoration that heals divisions and fosters creativity, not just the kind that restores human dignity and demonstrates universal care. Jesus takes it far beyond that. Jesus advocates a politics of love that is self-sacrificing, that stands in the face of injustice and hate and returns it with love, forgiveness, advocacy, and compassion.
Even on the cross, Jesus makes his own atonement plea to God: “Forgive them. They don’t know what they’ve done!”
As disciples of Jesus, our Lord and Savior calls us to a different kind of politics, a politics of love. To love those who hate, to forgive those who attack us, to pray for those who are unfair, to appeal to God on behalf of those who don’t yet know Him or appreciate His sacrificial gift. For only the power of love can outweigh a politics of fear, hate, envy, or evil.
Today, we don’t need to wash our hands of our guilt. For Jesus has done that for us, on the cross, with the shedding of his blood and breaking of his body. Jesus has made the ultimate atonement for all of us, from the beginning of time until He comes again.
So as you approach the communion table today, I invite you to hear these words again:
“The body of Christ, broken for YOU. The blood of Christ, shed for YOU.”
And, I invite you say these words in response:
“I am guilty. But I am forgiven. Thank you Jesus!”
Based on the Story Lectionary
Major Text
Jesus’ Encounter with Roman Governor Pontius Pilate and the Dream of Pilate’s Wife (Mark 15:1-15)
Minor Text
Abimelek’s Warning Vision Regarding Sarah (Genesis 20)
Pharaoh’s Warning Dreams of Famine (Genesis 41)
Washing of Hands in Atonement (Deuteronomy 21:1-8)
Israel Wants a King (1 Samuel 8-9)
David is Anointed King (2 Samuel 5,6,7)
David’s Prayer (2 Samuel 7:18-29)
Psalm 109: God’s Help in a Time of Condemnation
Psalm 134: Praise to Those Who Minister at Night
The Prophecy of the Lord’s Salvation (Isaiah 61 and 62)
Nebuchadnezzar’s Warning Dream of the Fall of Babylon (Daniel 2)
The Day of Judgment is Coming (Joel 2)
The Plot Against Jeremiah (11:11-19)
Restoration is Coming (Amos 9:1-15)
The Letters of Pontius Pilate (Apocrypha)
Jesus’ Encounter with Roman Governor Pontius Pilate and the Dream of Pilate’s Wife (Matthew 27:1-26; Luke 23:1-25; John 18:28-18:16)
Paul Before the High Priest and the Plot to Kill Paul (Acts 23)