“What is truth?”
Pilate spat the words at Jesus as if they were rotten meat that disgusted him.
They were bitter words, a cynical question from a cynical Roman governor. It was a simple question. Even profound, more profound than our jaundiced politician could begin to imagine.
Perhaps we can overlook his skepticism, his disenchantment with everlasting things. Pilate was world-weary. He swam in the waters of power, politics, and wealth. He had seen wars, bribery, and crucifixions by the hundreds.
Things like truth and beauty were the dreams of ghosts.
For Pontius Pilate, truth was what you made it. Truth was an ephemeral rhetorical parlor trick that the powerful used to shape events. Nothing more.
And this bloodied Galilean preacher in front of him, whoever he really was, seemed to be just another religious zealot. An idealist.
Just another weird Jew.
But apparently, he was too weird for all the other weird Jews. What’s a Roman to do? Why should he care?
“What is truth?”
Everyone should care what truth is. There is no more important thing to know.
Truth is not a concept, or a philosophy, or an opinion. Truth is real and solid and eternal. It is unchanging, unyielding, and impervious to argument or persuasion. Truth does not compromise because it knows that every atom that opposes it is a lie.
Truth needs no defense and it offers no apology.
Our culture thinks it can change the truth like we change socks. The Earth spins, the ground shifts beneath our feet. What was sacred yesterday is profane today. Society is built on a sandbar. A weak storm can knock it down.
I hear people today speak about “my truth” or “your truth.” But truth is not something we own. It is something we submit to. Truth cannot come from you or me. If we never existed it would still be there. It is everlasting. It had no beginning and it will have no end. It was here before here was here.
It just is.
Truth does not bend or flex. It is not soft. It is not liberal or conservative or woke. Truth will not conform to you; you must conform to it. It reigns over kings, philosophers, peasants, and slaves alike. It is the same for all. Truth is inescapable and ultimately unavoidable for every person.
It just is.
All of this can make the truth sound cold, distant, and unwelcoming, like a colossal dead rock at the center of space. But it isn’t. Truth is a fortress, a strong tower. The truth is the only real foundation there is to build upon.
Truth is a place to live.
Truth is oxygen. We are choking on deception, on media, on propaganda. Truth is life and breath.
Truth is food. It is something the human heart hungers for but rarely finds because it settles for the cheap junk food of duplicity, of the bait and switch.
Truth is light. All else is shadows and distractions, darkness, and traps.
Truth is a Person.
Pilate, bless his hollowed-out soul, was looking into the face of Truth. He was standing in front of the truest thing he had ever seen. The Galilean did not just claim to teach the truth, or to know the truth; he claimed to be the Truth. But our jaded Roman did not recognize the Truth. How could he?
Truth’s eyes were weary and sleepless. Truth’s face was tear-stained and bloody.
That same day Truth’s closest friend had denied Him three times in public. Men are weak. Truth was dragged into court and questioned by theologians and priests, men whose job it was to protect and proclaim the truth.
But they hated the Truth.
The Truth was indifferent to their questions and accusations. So they punched Truth in the face. Mocked and blindfolded, beaten and spat upon, Truth still stood unbowed, impervious, like a mountain. That’s what Truth does. That’s what Truth is.
They screamed for Truth to be crucified. Men see Truth as a criminal. Because it will not change for them. It shows them what they are, what they have become. So they must destroy it, but they cannot.
Pilate, that glib politician, whose responsibility it was to determine truth and justice that day, gave them what they wanted. He had enough sense to begin to fear the Truth. But he feared the crowd more, just like our own feckless political class who will say and do anything to avoid the Truth.
He was trying to save his own neck. It did not work. In AD 39 he was brought to Rome and put on trial for his many cruelties. Caligula ordered him executed; some say he was beheaded; some say he was ordered to commit suicide and his body thrown in the Tiber.
You cannot run from the Truth.
The Truth is a person.
He is a patient person, one who will give you the freedom to chase after lies, but only for a while. An empire tried to kill the Truth that day. But Truth never dies, not really. The best they could do was to bury it in the ground for a weekend.
Truth came back to haunt them.
Within a few generations that empire would find itself kneeling at the feet of the Truth.
Every day we are bombarded by the lies of men and of demons. We walk out into a blizzard of them. They offer only smoke and vanity. No matter how attractive they appear; lies are always attractive to someone. They are empty.
There is nothing heavier than the Truth and there is nothing lighter than lies. That is why men prefer lies. Men like Pilate.
Pilate had called for a basin of water so he could publicly wash his hands of Jesus.
But you cannot wash your hands of the Truth.
Don’t be Pilate. This world will let you keep every god but Christ. It will demand that you hand Him over. Or at least moderate Him. Change Him. Soften Him. Make Him more user friendly. Make Him more political. Or make Him less political.
Just don’t let Him be the giant unchanging thing that He is in the pages of scripture.
Don’t let Him be True.
Don’t let Him have those eyes like a flame of fire.
Don’t let Him have that voice like the roar of many waters.
Don’t let Him say those uncomfortable things about marriage. And money.
Don’t let Him make any demands on my heart and my wealth and my time.
Don’t let Him make me forgive those people.
Don’t let Him require me to love that enemy.
Don’t make me deny myself.
Don’t make me carry my own cross.
Don’t make me die. Every. Single. Day.
Pilate handed Him over to the screaming mob. There seem to be screaming mobs on every corner today. Would I hand Him over, or at least modify Him, just to appease the haters? To make myself feel wise in their eyes? To be liked, or at least accepted?
Would you hand Him over just to quiet the critics?
Would you hand Him over to government officials and their rules? It’s for the children.
Would you hand Him over to maintain your paycheck? Your retirement?
Would you hand Him over for corporate policy?
Would you trade Him for friendship?
For respect?
For a lover?
I could probably gather more subscribers if I laid off this Jesus stuff. He is not popular, you know.
Maybe I could post muscular pieces for the “manosphere.” Or focus on current events. Or left wing gibberish. Or right wing rants.
All of those things seem more popular here.
No.
I will keep Him.
I will not hand Him over for anything. I hope.
Not because I am True. But because He is.
He is the Truth.
He haunts me.
This disheveled man standing before this baffled Roman governor. He should be begging for His life, but He doesn’t.
He is serene.
He is in charge.
He actually has pity for Pilate.
Pilate was the prisoner that day, not Jesus.
With Christ I am set free from the opinions of others.
I am set free from the pressure of the mob.
I am set free from sin.
I am set free from death.
I am set free from fear.
I know the Truth, personally.
Why would I give that up?
And you shall know the Truth, and the Truth shall set you free. John 8
Awesome, Jim. Thank you.