ng ground when they
brought Jesus before Pilate. The Sanhedrim had condemned Him, not for
claiming to be King of the Jews, for that was not a capital offence, but
for assuming Divine dignity. But that which in their eyes was a crime
was none in the judgment of Roman law; it was useless to bring Him
before Pilate and accuse Him of blasphemy. They therefore accused Him of
assuming to be King of the Jews. Here, then, were the Jews "accusing
Jesus before the Roman governor of that which, in the first place, they
knew that Jesus denied in the sense in which they urged it, and which,
in the next place, had the charge been true, would have been so far from
a crime in their eyes that it would have been popular with the whole
nation."

But as Pilate might very naturally misunderstand the character of the
claim made by the accused, Jesus in a few words gives him clearly to
understand that the kingdom He sought to establish could not come into
collision with that which Pilate represented: "My kingdom is not of this
world." The most convincing proof had been given of the spiritual
character of the kingdom in the fact that Jesus did not allow the sword
to be used in forwarding His claims. "If My kingdom were of this world,
then would My servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the
Jews: but now is My kingdom not from hence." This did not quite satisfy
Pilate. He thought that still some mystery of danger might lurk behind
the words of Jesus. There was nothing more acutely dreaded by the early
emperors than secret societies. It might be some such association Jesus
intended to form. To allow such a society to gain influence in his
province would be a gross oversight on Pilate's part. He therefore
seizes upon the apparent admission of Jesus and pushes Him further with
the question, "Thou art a king then?" But the answer of Jesus removes
all fear from the mind of His judge. He claims only to be a king of the
truth, attracting to Himself all who are drawn by a love of truth. This
was enough for Pilate. "Aletheia" was a country beyond his jurisdiction,
a Utopia which could not injure the Empire. "Tush!" he says, "what is
Aletheia? Why speak to me of ideal worlds? What concern have I with
provinces that can yield no tribute and offer no armed resistance?"

Pilate, convinced of the innocence of Jesus, makes several attempts to
save Him. All these attempts failed, because, instead of at once and
decidedly proclaiming His innocence a