Victimhood or Courage? What Jesus Before Pilate Reveals About You

Introduction

The message opens with a question you hear often today, one that had already been put to the preacher: isn't Jesus, in the end, a failure? If God became flesh, why did he have to die? Isn't it demeaning to believe that God humbled himself like that, crucified, maybe even naked on a cross? Isn't that a defeat?

The German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche said that Christianity took the side of everything weak, low, and failed. Recently, a YouTuber picked up that idea: Nietzsche was right, Christianity is the symbol of a morality of weakness, of victimhood, a celebration of the loser. So when Jesus died on the cross, was that it?

With all due respect to Nietzsche, the preacher thinks he didn't grasp the full scope of what Jesus did on the cross. Or maybe the Christians he observed never showed him the depth of what Jesus was actually doing. The text studied this morning, Matthew 27:11-31, tells the story of Jesus' final hours before the crucifixion. It tells us something about God, but also something about ourselves. And it is anything but victimhood.

Outline of the Message

1. The context: a trial built on a lie

2,000 years ago, Jesus lived among the Jewish people in Palestine. The religious leaders were furious with him because he called out religious hypocrisy. He could be sharp, and he showed that the path the religious leaders had taken pushed people further from God rather than closer to him.
The religious leaders accuse Jesus of encouraging people not to pay taxes (we read this in Luke 23). An effective argument in front of the Romans who ruled the territory, but it's a lie. The phrase "Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's," now part of everyday language, comes straight from Jesus, who never opposed paying taxes.
So Jesus is brought to trial before Pontius Pilate. Did he go too far with his criticism? Is this martyrdom? The text shows it's something else entirely.

2. Jesus before Pilate: the king who takes responsibility to save us (v. 11-14)

Pilate asks: "Are you the King of the Jews?" Jesus confirms: "So you say." That's bold, because at the time there is only one king, Caesar. But faced with false accusations, Jesus says nothing, which astonishes the governor.
Why this silence? Because Jesus accepts the plan to give his life to save us. Long before his coming, the prophets spoke of the Messiah's mission. Isaiah 53:3-7 describes him as despised, forsaken by men, a man of suffering, wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities, "as a lamb that is led to the slaughter": "he didn't open his mouth."
This passage echoes exactly what happens before Pilate. Jesus doesn't answer the accusations because it was written. He isn't crucified because he did wrong, but because this was his mission: to pay for our failures.
Jesus is not passive. He knows lies are swirling around him, and that arguing would mean entering a debate built on lies. That doesn't mean we should simply let injustice happen: other passages call us to hunger for justice, and Jesus himself drove the merchants out of the temple and got angry at those who manipulated and lied. But here, his mission is to wipe away our failures.
God is a God of justice. Normally, we should pay for our own failures: our rebellion against God's authority, our self-sufficiency, our lack of love. God had a plan: to pay it himself. That's what Jesus is doing here, silent just as the prophecy had foretold.

3. Pilate: washing your hands is still a choice (v. 15-26)

Pilate tries a dilemma: release Barabbas, a notorious criminal, or Jesus, who doesn't seem violent at all. He may be hoping the crowd will calm down. He knows it's out of envy that the religious leaders handed Jesus over.
His wife sends him a message: "Have nothing to do with that righteous man, for I have suffered many things today in a dream because of him." She too is troubled by this injustice. But Pilate doesn't listen to his wife: his career matters more than she does, what people think of him matters more than anything.
Pilate, the Roman governor tasked with keeping the peace in the Jerusalem region, senses clearly that this trial is unjust. But he refuses to take responsibility. He wants to please everyone. He is fixated on his reputation, his career, what people think of him.
So he washes his hands in front of the crowd: "I am innocent of the blood of this righteous person. You see to it." A gesture no Roman would normally make; it comes from the Old Testament, and perhaps the Jewish leaders suggested it to him. But what does he do next? He condemns Jesus anyway. He is the one responsible.
Washing your hands means saying "I am innocent." But if there is one innocent person in this story, it's Jesus. Refusing to take responsibility is itself a failure. Here, not choosing is still a choice. Pilate tries to dodge the decision, but he is the one who allows Jesus to be crucified.

4. And us? The contrast between Pilate and Jesus

Isn't that exactly what we try to do too? We know something is wrong, we know what we should do, but we lack the courage and we just go along with everyone else. Social pressure: if I say I'm a Christian at work, at school, what will people think?
Maybe you believe in Jesus, but you keep putting off baptism, you push your commitment to tomorrow, "when I'm older, when I'm grown up." Maybe you sense there's a God, that the world didn't just happen by chance, but you don't want to look too closely because it would mean commitment. You'd rather go with the flow and wait for a nice surprise to show up on its own.
We can try all we want to wash our hands of our responsibilities: doing nothing is still a choice. Even as Christians, we know we should love God, follow Jesus, love our neighbor, make disciples, share our faith. But we have other concerns, and we push it all to tomorrow. The preacher admits it himself: "So many times I have failed to do what I sensed God was calling me to do."
The contrast is striking. Pilate is anxious, confused, lost, stressed about life: what will happen to me tomorrow, will I keep my comfort? He can't find the truth, he's a relativist, everyone is right, so he has to please everyone. He sees an innocent man in front of him and lets him be crucified. He isn't innocent, but he claims otherwise: that's the beginning of hypocrisy.
Jesus, on the other hand, carries out his mission, even though it's unjust, even though it brings suffering. He is confident, secure, steady. He doesn't want to please everyone, he wants to please God his Father. He trusts the mission the Father gave him. He is courageous: he chooses to die for all of us, and he sees it through to the end. Innocent, he doesn't try to justify himself in every direction, because he knows he's exactly where he should be.

5. The king crowned with thorns (v. 27-31)

The soldiers strip Jesus, drape him in a scarlet robe, weave a crown of thorns, put a reed in his hand like a scepter, and kneel before him: "Hail, King of the Jews!" Then they spit on him and strike his head with the reed before leading him away to be crucified.
Pilate lets it happen, and Jesus is humiliated exactly as Isaiah's prophecy foretold 700 years earlier. The soldiers dress him up as a king and give him a mocking tribute for their own amusement. They don't realize that what they're mocking is who he truly is: he really is the king, but not a king like any other.
We think a king is someone rich and powerful, comfortable in his palace. Romans 5:8 says: "God commends his own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." That's the King of the Bible: a king who steps down from his throne, comes all the way to us, and picks up the dust to wipe away our rebellion, our lack of love, our lack of courage, our silence when we should have taken responsibility.
So this is not a Christianity that celebrates cowardice or victimhood, as Nietzsche might have implied. Christianity celebrates a courageous God, so full of love that he gives his life for his enemies. While they're beating him, Jesus loves his tormentors, he wants to save them and forgive them. That's sacrificial love, the kind that gives without conditions. We tend to love people who are likable; who would give their life for their enemies? God is the only one who does that.
Theologian D. A. Carson points out something powerful in the crown of thorns that makes Jesus' head bleed: in Genesis 3, the curse on humanity, separated from God, brought thorns into the world. This crown symbolizes the crown of our sin, our rebellion. Jesus wears it.

6. Risen, he makes his disciples courageous

Jesus is crucified, a horrific death, but three days later he rises. The disciples can hardly believe it; many don't believe and think it's a ghost. But Jesus appears to them several times, eats with them, lets them touch him. They struggled to believe until it became clear: this really is Jesus, and he had said it would happen.
If God is truly God, it makes sense that he would be stronger than death. We don't want a small God; the God of the Bible is great and strong.
The Gospel of Matthew ends with this king who is unlike any other (Matthew 28:16-20). The disciples fall down before him, but "some doubted." They are shaky, and the preacher admits he often feels shaky in the face of his own responsibilities. Yet Jesus is about to entrust them with an enormous mission: to make disciples of all nations. These are poor men, without much education, ordinary people who'd lost their way.
Jesus essentially tells them: I know your doubts, but it's not you who will pull this off, it's me, I have all authority, and I will be with you. Jesus is the all-powerful king who makes up for our weakness. If you're afraid to talk about your faith at school or at work, you can be reassured: God will help you, he's the one who is courageous.
Christianity in its first 300 years spread through persecution, not conquest or war. An astonishing growth made up of people who loved their neighbor. When leprosy and disease spread, Christians were the only ones who stayed to care for the sick, at the risk of catching the disease themselves. Writings from that era describe the first Christians as reckless, wildly courageous people.

Key Takeaways

Jesus' silence before Pilate is not passivity: it is the fulfillment of Isaiah 53. He accepts to pay for our failures; that was his mission.
Washing your hands doesn't make you innocent. Not choosing is still a choice; refusing to take responsibility is itself a failure.
Pilate wants to please everyone and loses sight of the truth. Jesus wants to please his Father and sees it through, confident and steady.
Christianity doesn't celebrate weakness but a courageous God, who loves his enemies and gives his life for them (Romans 5:8).
God doesn't call us to victimhood but to recognize our weaknesses, to bow before Jesus, and to receive courage from him.

Personal Application

In what area are you "washing your hands" today, even though you know there's something you should be doing?
Like Pilate, what are you clinging to (reputation, career, what others think) to the point of ignoring the warnings God places around you?
You believe in Jesus, but what are you putting off until tomorrow: baptism, a commitment, a word you should say at work or at school?
Where have you lacked love recently, toward your family, your spouse, your neighbor? Can you confess it to Jesus this morning?
The first courageous act is to say: "I recognize that I am lost without your help, Jesus." Are you ready to say it?

Verses Cited

FAQ

Does Christianity celebrate weakness, as Nietzsche claimed?

No. The text of Matthew 27 shows a courageous God, who freely chooses to die for his enemies and pay their debt. The cross is not a failure suffered; it is a mission carried out to the end.

Why doesn't Jesus defend himself before Pilate?

Because it was written: Isaiah 53 foretold a servant who "didn't open his mouth." Jesus is not passive; he refuses to enter a debate built on lies and accepts God's plan to wipe away our failures.

What does it mean to "wash your hands" like Pilate?

It means declaring yourself innocent while letting injustice happen anyway. Pilate condemned Jesus regardless. For us, it means that doing nothing, putting things off, going along with the crowd, is already a choice we're responsible for.

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