The Trial of Jesus Christ

Contents Preface I. Jewish legal proceedings II. Roman legal proceedings About the author The enormous influence of the life and person of Jesus of Nazareth on history is accepted by all. And His death on the cross, which Christians of all times recognized as the most important work of His ministry, became the starting point of a new history. His coffin, as the poet expressed it, was the grave of the ancient world and the cradle of the new. But this ever-memorable event was the execution of a criminal sentence, following two judicial investigations, one of which was carried out according to Jewish, the other according to Roman law. From a judicial point of view, the trial of Jesus Christ is extraordinary, perhaps even a one-of-a-kind fact. History has preserved many judicial tragedies. Criminal trials, such as those of Socrates, Charles, the King of England and Mary Stuart, have always attracted the attention of people with enchanting power. But the trial of Christ made a greater impression on the world than all of them together. In addition to its world-historical significance, it also has a purely legal interest, which none of the mentioned processes has. According to the general conviction of lawyers, the most important place among all jurisprudence is occupied by the jurisprudence of ancient Rome, and the most unique of them, and, moreover, highly valued by the Christian world, was the jurisprudence of the Jewish state. It is clear that if these two glorious and decidedly different systems meet each other, then the study of such a case from a legal point of view will necessarily be of great interest. And if these two systems meet each other in an event most striking and abundant in consequences, then the study of their joint application becomes very important. It becomes the most interesting task that the history of jurisprudence can imagine. Many questions immediately arise, namely: were there two trials or one? Was the second trial a mere review of the first, or was the first only preliminary to the second? Were the forms observed: in one case, the Jewish, and in the other, the Roman law, and did they want to observe them? In both cases, with or without compliance with the forms, did they try to achieve justice on the merits of the case? Then, were the same charges brought before the Jewish and Roman courts? For what crime did the Accused die? Was the decision in both cases fair in form, that is, was it reached in a manner consistent with Jewish and Roman rules of legal procedure? Was it essentially fair, that is, in accordance with the Jewish or Roman laws of that time? These legal questions arise naturally when you carefully read the history of the event. We will take a special look at each of the two proceedings as they apply to the great event. I. Jewish legal proceedings Jewish society and the institutions that governed it were imbued with a deep sense of truth and law. The extent to which this feeling developed in the later history of the Jewish people is shown by the basic rule: “Do not do injustice in court.” In the more ancient part of the “traditions of the fathers” we read: “If a judge pronounces a decision that does not agree with the truth, then he removes the greatness of God from Israel. But if he judges in accordance with the truth, even if only for one hour, then he, as it were, strengthens the whole world, for it is in judgment that the presence of God in Israel is expressed.” The vast Jewish literature which we call the Talmud is nothing other than the Corpus Juris, an encyclopedia of the whole law, which can best be judged by comparison with other legal codes, particularly the Roman Code and its commentaries. The Talmud contains many other subjects, but this is its basis. And, what is especially important for us, this basis constitutes the oldest part of the Talmud. The entire Talmud consists of forty volumes in folio - a mass of reasoning, examples and commentaries. Its central part, contained in 12 volumes, is called the Mishnah. And the content of almost the entire Mishnah constitutes the law. 1 The Mishnah was transmitted from ancient times as a second or oral law - δευτερωσις, i.e. a detailed commentary on the Mosaic Law based on tradition, and, declaring complete subordination to it, in practice supplanted it as a code. 2 While other parts of the Talmudic commentary did not exist for centuries after the introduction of Christianity, the Mishnah, or the central part of it, is generally supposed to have been collected by Rabbi Judah about A.D. 200. But it was collected as an oral law, the use and authority of which began to increase from the very return of the people from Babylon, as a “short extract from the legislative productivity” that lasted about eight hundred years. Therefore, later Jewish writers do not hesitate to refer to it as a code containing criminal laws that undoubtedly existed during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas. Of course, this cannot be proven for all parts of the book that were written down over two centuries. But we have evidence that the development of the Mishnah in this particular direction occurred very early and quickly. Its earliest period coincides with the time of the “men of the great synagogue,” which extended from the return from captivity to approximately 220 BC. Their activity is expressed in the guiding aphorism: “Be careful and slow in judgment, prepare as many disciples as possible and make of them a fence around the law.” 3 And this century, which instilled caution in judicial activity, was followed by the so-called “age of the Sanhedrin,” which over the next four hundred years developed the principle of caution to the smallest detail. Nothing in the Mishnah is expressed more clearly than the contrast that was recognized in that ancient time between civil and criminal proceedings - between the court of property and the court of life. Even in relation to the first legal proceedings, their rules amaze the modern legal mind with their tendency to pedantic caution. As for criminal crimes, and especially those punishable by death, there is no doubt that even long before the time of Jesus, the high importance that the life of a Jewish citizen had in the eyes of the law led to extreme precautions. The so-called four great rules of Jewish criminal jurisprudence: “accuracy in the accusation, publicity in the proceedings, complete freedom for the defendant and security against all dangers or mistakes of witnesses” 4 - already in the Mishnah break down into detailed and precise rules, almost clearly leaning in all points in favor of the accused and most of all having force in the analysis of a case threatening the death penalty. Indeed, precautions here go so far that modern Jews are inclined to imagine the death penalty as contrary to the very spirit of Jewish jurisprudence. In the “oral law” we read the saying of Eleazar, the son of Azariah: “The Sanhedrin, which condemns a person to death once every seven years, is a slaughterhouse.” 5 Even more amazing (if we remember the Jews’ fear of everything humanoid in speeches about the divine Being) will seem the following terrible saying of Rabbi Meir: “What does God think (if we can speak humanoid of God) when a villain suffers due torment for his crime? He says: “My head and my limbs are suffering.” And if He speaks like this about the suffering of the guilty, then what should He say when the innocent is condemned?” 6 And thus, in order to save innocent blood, to protect and defend the sacred right to life, Jewish legislation abounded in rules of precaution, which, like bastions, protected the accused, so that false accusation was made almost impossible. The question of whether the Jewish investigation of Jesus Christ was carried out according to the rules of Jewish law itself, it seems, has not been exhausted by any writer, although many have touched on it. The most famous study about him belongs to the Spanish Jew scientist Salvador, who in his famous work “History of the Mosaic Institutions” 7 gave two excellent chapters on the criminal laws of the later Jews and on the administration of justice among them, to which he then added the argument that the trial of Jesus was carried out legally. He accepted the facts as they are presented in the Gospels, and based his conclusions on the law as stated in the Mishnah; on the basis of these sources, he considered it possible to prove that, although the verdict was unfortunate, if Jesus was really the Messiah, the course of the trial and the result obtained were equally inevitable, if only the court adhered to its own law. The famous French lawyer Dupin Sr. and the American scientist Greenleaf responded to Salvador in a brilliant treatise. Both opponents of El Salvador insisted mainly that the trial of Jesus Christ was unfair not so much in form as in substance. We intend to examine this issue again by going directly to the sources. In March, on the night of Friday, the last before Easter, a arrest took place - the first step in most of our modern investigations. The question arises: was this taking into custody legal? There is no reason to doubt that it was carried out by the authority of the high priest; the same Jewish authority must have taken care of the addition of the Roman spira to the servants of the church, and thus, at first glance, it has the appearance of legality. But was taking into custody before the investigation legal under Jewish law? It seems not, unless there was reason to fear resistance or flight. In the present case there was no intention to escape, but resistance, albeit unintentional, could be expected. Thus, the question of the legality of the arrest of Jesus Christ now turns into the question: was this arrest the beginning of a judicial investigation? If so, then the further course of the matter should, according to the law, be the same as what we notice when Peter and John were taken into custody a short time later - those who took them put them into custody until the morning, for it was already evening. 8 Jesus Christ was dealt with very differently. The detention was followed by a night interrogation. An armed convoy led Jesus first to Annas, the most powerful member of the Sanhedrin. No less than five of his sons sat in this assembly, some of whom were already enjoying, and others were to enjoy, over the next few years, the dignity of high priest. The old man Anna had previously held this high position for twenty years and, perhaps, in the absence of the Roman ruler 10, extended his power (as his son later did) to the point of pronouncing death sentences. It is not incredible that the procurator, indignant at Anna’s autocracy, insisted on his removal from office; 11 However, Anna, although she gave in formally, continued to use her influence on the great council through the younger members of her family. Now the chairman's chair was occupied by his energetic son-in-law Caiaphas, although the elderly head of the house remained in the opinion of the faithful Jews the high priest de jure judaico. Anna sent the bound Jesus Christ to Caiaphas, perhaps only to another department of the bishop's house. Before one or the other (it makes no difference) of these dignitaries, the Accused was undoubtedly subjected to preliminary examination before the witnesses were called. It is difficult to decide whether this high priestly interrogation, 12 recorded by one John, was carried out by Annas or Caiaphas. However, this is completely indifferent to our task. 13 The main thing here is that if the interrogation, recorded in detail by John, took place at Annas, then it was separated both in place and time from the subsequent proceedings at Caiaphas. In this case, it is more likely that the interrogation of witnesses and the condemnation, which took place before the junior full-time high priest, took place somewhat later - either at night, or even already in the morning - and had the form and order of a proper public trial. On the other hand, if Annas sent the Prisoner to Caiaphas without examining the case, and if the interrogation recorded in the Gospels was carried out last, then this interrogation could be immediately followed by the presentation of witnesses, the exorcism 14 and condemnation; and in such a case it is probable that all these events were followed by a considerable period of time before the informal condemnation of the night was ratified at a formal or open meeting of the morning council. But the main point regarding the high priestly interrogation does not depend on deciding who conducted the interrogation. In any case, the interrogation was completely illegal. In some countries, such as France, Scotland and Russia, the accused is brought before a magistrate and subjected to formal questioning before being tried in public. In other countries, and among the Jews, by the way, things are not done this way. Here the accused was exempt from any such personal interrogation until he was brought before a meeting of his brethren for consideration of the case. 15 This rule regarding the publicity of interrogation seems to have arisen from Jewish principles regarding both judges and witnesses. “Do not be one judge,” says one of the most famous aphorisms, “for there is no one judge but the One.” 16 It is even clearer not only from the Mishnah, but also from the Pentateuch, that one witness did not matter and that “two or three witnesses,” on whose testimony every case must be based, must give their testimony publicly. 17 Their testimony formed the basis of every legal proceeding, and until it was publicly given against a person, he was considered before the court of law not only innocent, but also not accused. This principle fully explains the answers of Jesus Christ to the midnight questions of the high priest: a church dignitary, probably in a private meeting and, undoubtedly, before witnesses were called, asked Jesus about His disciples and about His teaching. “Jesus answered him: I have spoken plainly to the world; I always taught in the synagogue and in the temple, where Jews always gather, and I did not say anything secretly. 18 Why are you asking me? ask those who heard what I said to them; behold, they know what I said.” 19 Here in every word one can hear echoes of Jewish justice, based on very broad principles. Christ reminds the unjust judge of the first duty of his great ministry. But (as an ancient Jewish writer who studied this people in ancient times noted), “when an ignorant person rises, the evil ones surround him on all sides.” When the accused thus asserted his rights, one of the ministers (this class of people is usually distinguished by a special zeal for the observance of form, and only one form) “struck Jesus on the cheek, saying: Do you answer the high priest in this way?” 20 Jesus' answer is amazing. In it, He again decisively stands on the basis of the legal rights of the Jew - the ground from which He later, without a doubt, rose to a higher level, but which He, however, never completely abandoned: “If I said bad, show what is bad, and if it is good, why do you beat Me?” 21 These words undoubtedly express the demand for freedom of speech and freedom for the accused. But they again rely on the principle of Jewish law, according to which witnesses took upon themselves the full burden of responsibility and the very beginning of any accusation, and were even obliged to appear at the end of the case and stone the accused with their own hands. And the repeated protest achieved its goal. Because now the witnesses have come forward, or, more precisely, have been invited to present their evidence. When they appeared - and not before - then only according to Jewish law did the real formal trial begin. All of this, or most of it, happened at night. 22 But was the night court session legal? According to all the provisions of Jewish law, the administration of court at night was certainly illegal and invalid, no matter in what form it was conducted. At one point in Mishnah 23 a law is set forth that contrasts criminal proceedings with civil ones. It is so striking that we dare to present it here in full, although in fact only the final words of the paragraph are important to us: “Civil and criminal proceedings are subject to the same rules regarding interrogation and investigation. But they differ in the production method in the following points. The former requires only three judges, the latter twenty-three. In the first, it makes no difference in whose favor the judges who first submit opinions speak; in the latter those who speak for justification must speak first. In the first, a majority of one vote is always sufficient; in the latter, a majority of one vote is always sufficient to acquit, but a majority of two votes is required to convict. In the first, the decision (in case of error) can be reversed, no matter which way it leans; in the latter, a conviction can be overturned, but an acquittal cannot. In the first, students of the law present in court can speak (as assessors or assistants) both for and against the accused; in the latter they can speak in favor of the accused, but not against him. In the first, the judge who expressed his opinion, no matter for or against, can change it; in the latter, the one who voted for prosecution can change his mind, but the one who voted for acquittal cannot. The first (civil proceedings) begins only during the day, but perhaps ends after nightfall; the latter (criminal proceedings) begins only during the day and must also end during the day. The first can end in acquittal or condemnation on the same day on which it begins, the latter can end on the same day if an acquittal is pronounced; but must be postponed until the next day in case it should end in condemnation. And for this reason, criminal proceedings cannot be started on the eve of a Saturday or a holiday.” The crucifixion of Jesus took place (there was hardly ever any doubt about this) on Friday - the eve of Saturday, which was also a great day, 24 and the meeting of the council took place on the same Friday morning. 25 Such a meeting on such a day was prohibited. If it was opened only to pronounce a verdict of acquittal, it was legal. But if the court could not immediately acquit the defendant, it was obliged to postpone the hearing for at least 24 hours to pronounce the final verdict. The final meeting could not take place on Saturday either. The necessity of delaying criminal trial to ensure the rights of the accused is very clearly shown in the detailed instructions of the Mishnah. 26 “If a person turns out to be innocent, the court acquits him. Otherwise, his sentence will be postponed until the next day. Meanwhile, the judges gather together and, eating a little meat, but without drinking wine all that day, consult about the matter. 27 The next morning they return to the presence and cast their votes again, with the same precautions as before... If the sentence is finally pronounced, they bring out the condemned man to be stoned. The place of execution must be separate from the trial (for in Lev. 24:14, it is said: “bring out the one who slandered (the name of the Lord) out of the camp”). At this time, one minister of justice should stand at the door of the court with a handkerchief in his hand; another on horseback follows the procession to execution, but stops at the farthest point from which he can still see the man with the headscarf. The judges continue to sit, and if someone undertakes to prove that the convict is innocent, then the one standing at the door waves a handkerchief, and the horseman at the same moment gallops after the convict and calls on him to defend himself again.” These precepts, taken not from a commentary on the oral law, but from the Mishnah itself, probably existed in great detail during the high priesthood of Caiaphas. There is no reason to doubt that at least the general rule requiring the postponement of the end of legal proceedings until another day was obligatory for the judges of Jesus of Nazareth. In no case was this rule so absolutely necessary for justice as in the present, when the Accused, taken into custody at nightfall, was brought to trial at dawn, without the slightest opportunity of presenting witnesses for his defense. The Gemara calls it cruelty to hasten the day of death of the accused; 28 here this cruelty turned into obvious injustice, since the actual trial, begun too early contrary to the law, was probably over on the merits of the case in the darkness of the night. This would be an intolerable violation of the law in an ordinary civil suit, which could be filed, and the case on it could be started only during the day, although, on occasion, it could continue after dark until the verdict was rendered. 29 But an important criminal case - a case of a crime that undoubtedly entailed the death penalty - had to begin and be resumed or continue and end only in daylight. And that a trial in which a descendant of Israel, a natural Jew, whom all the people knew as “a man strong in word and deed,” could be deprived of his life - that such a trial was begun and ended with a formal verdict, in the period of time between midnight and morning - this was a violation of both the forms and rules of Jewish law, and the fundamental principles of justice. And since El Salvador 30 pays absolutely no attention to this extraordinary violation of the law, we need not examine in detail his defense of other parts of this supposedly legal proceeding. However, there can be no doubt that during these odd hours between Thursday night and Friday morning, some rituals of legal proceedings according to Jewish law were observed. No matter how unrighteous the judges of Christ were, they were still people brought up in Jewish law and knew thoroughly all its details; they must have felt it impossible for themselves, by violating judicial truth, to violate at the same time all forms of court. Jesus Christ, as we have seen, demanded a real formal accusation and investigation: “Why are you asking Me? ask those who heard what I said to them.” 31 And until the very end we will not hear another word from Him. When the demand for public justice was answered with a night investigation, the Accused refused to participate in it. A lot happened during this time. The council members were looking for witnesses against Jesus. Matthew says they were looking for false witness. 32 But even a simple “search” was a seductive obscenity on the part of the court. Jewish judges, as we have seen, were and were supposed to appear in court, primarily as defenders of the accused. And one of the most terrible spectacles the world had ever seen must have been the exorcism, or solemn address, of the witnesses who had come to speak against the life of Jesus. This form of incantation, or solemn address to witnesses, is preserved entirely in Jewish law. 33 It was the duty of the high priest to pronounce an incantation before each witness in a criminal case and then take them to the oath. Who can measure the effect that the spell produced when it was pronounced by the sacred judge of Israel on people who were obliged to look into the face of the accused at all times while pronouncing the words? “Do not forget, O witness, that it is another thing to testify in court about property, and another thing in court in which the matter is about life. In money litigation, if your evidence is wrong, the whole case ends in money. But if you sin in a court that decides the issue of life, then the blood of the accused and the blood of his seed will be imputed to you until the end of the age... Why Adam was created alone, to teach you that if any witness destroys one soul from among Israel, then the Scriptures recognize him as having destroyed the whole world; and the one who saves one such soul is as if he saved the world... For a person can make many impressions with one seal of his ring, and they will all be exactly alike. But He, the King of kings, He, the Holy and Blessed One, from His image of the first man took the images of all people who will live; so, however, that not a single human being is completely similar to another. Therefore, let us think and believe that the whole world was created for a person such as the one whose life depends on your words.” The Son of Man, whose life the law protected with such a terrible sacred act, stood silently before the witnesses; and, for whatever reason, their evidence is found wanting. What does Jewish law say about testimony? The Talmud divides all oral testimony into: 2) insufficient or single evidence, 3) proper evidence, or (perhaps) testimony that testifies in agreement with each other. 34 The evidence of the witnesses who were first examined that night seems to have been dismissed as being of the first class; for "empty testimony" was not accepted even temporarily or recorded until subsequently confirmed. On the other hand, “insufficient evidence” was admitted provisionally, but was not valid until confirmed by others. This middle category belonged to the testimony of the witness who stated the saying of Jesus regarding the destruction and restoration of the church. When another witness joined him, the question arose: did the testimony of both rise to the third highest degree of testimony, known as “the testimony of people who agree with each other.” “But,” says Mark, using a precise technical expression, “this evidence was not sufficient,” or they agree among themselves. 35 No doubt there was a verbal difference of opinion in the testimony of facts. This disagreement, according to our modern concepts, could not be important. Mark conveys evidence of both in the same sentence, without distinguishing between them. And Matthew does the same, differing little from Mark. Neither makes an explicit distinction between the testimony of these two witnesses. Let us assume that the disagreement (as indicated by Mark) consisted only in the fact that one said in the words of Matthew: “I can destroy the church of God,” 36 and the other - “I will destroy this church.” But even such a disagreement was enough to destroy the force of their testimony. In Jewish criminal proceedings, “the slightest discrepancy in the testimony of witnesses was considered to destroy its force.” 37 A simple difference in words could sometimes have the meaning of an irrefutable objection in the mind of even such a judge as Caiaphas. The testimony of previous witnesses, whom the evangelists, abandoning their usual restraint, directly call “false witnesses,” 38 was probably incomplete and confusing. As for the last two witnesses, it is quite possible that the difference between the presentation of their testimony by these two evangelists was not just about words, but represented a significant and important difficulty that was of great importance in the course of the case. Here we come face to face with the most important questions in the entire study: what crime was Jesus being tried for all this time? On what charge and by virtue of what indictment did He stand before the Sanhedrin? Until now, we have not had any indication of this subject in the description of the court. In modern legal proceedings such a state of affairs would be unusual. Trying a person, especially in a criminal court, without first indicating the crime for which he is being tried is rightly considered a violation of the law. But we should not judge the Jewish law or the ancient law of any people by our newest laws. Jewish law, as we have seen, gave witnesses a particularly important meaning. And in ancient times, the accusation consisted precisely of the testimony of the main witnesses. There was no other charge other than the formal indictment. While the witnesses spoke - and they always spoke in an open meeting - the prisoner hardly confessed even to the defendant. When they finished their speech, and the testimony of two of them turned out to agree with each other, then this testimony received the force of a legal accusation, denunciation or indictment and, at the same time, served as evidence. This, paradoxical for us, but in fact the simple and natural occurrence of every Jewish criminal process is nowhere better explained than in the ancient famous case of Naboth, an Israeli: “they declared a fast and put Naboth at the head of the people. And two wicked men came forward and sat opposite him. And these evil men testified against him before the people and said, “Naboth blasphemed God and the king, and they took him out of the city and stoned him, and he died.” 39 The essential points of Jewish criminal procedure are presented here with astonishing precision. 40 But in the case of Naboth, the false witnesses, trained by the daughter of the king of Sidon, 41 appear to be using the technical name (nomen juris) of blasphemy. In the trial of Jesus, what is clearly said about the witnesses is that they reported on a particular expression of the Accused. What crime did the prosecutors or judges want to find in this expression? They could give two different meanings to the above phrase. According to one, the words: “I will destroy this church made with hands and in three days I will erect another one not made with hands” 42 could be interpreted in the sense of an attack on existing institutions or in the meaning of the intention to “destroy the law and the prophets.” We have a very important explanation for this in a parallel accusation brought against Stephen a few months later: “We heard him say that Jesus of Nazareth would destroy this place and change the customs that Moses handed down to us” 43. With a different view, in the above saying - precisely in the modified form that the saying has in Matthew: I can destroy the church of God, 44 - perhaps they wanted to find a reason for accusing them of arrogantly appropriating superhuman power. This is how the Jews understood this saying when they heard it for the first time: “This church took forty-six years to build, and will You raise it up in three days?” 45 It should be noted that these two accusations, although different, are not incompatible with each other. Couldn't He be accused of both attempting to change national institutions and claiming miraculous power? Or, summarizing both of these guilts, we can say: Jesus was finally condemned for “blasphemy” because He declared himself the Messiah and the Son of God, thus assimilating to himself rights that exceeded even those claims attributed to Him by the witnesses selected by the court. Blasphemy was precisely what one of the accusations meant - the accusation that he attributed superhuman strength to himself... Under the same category of law, or nomen juris, that is, under the category of blasphemy, another accusation was brought. This idea is suggested to us by the witnesses against Stephen, who called this deacon’s reasoning about the transitory significance of the holy place and the law “blasphemous words”. 47 And, in our opinion, it is impossible to find any Jewish category of crimes under which an attempt - to abolish ancient institutions - could fit so naturally as under the category designated by the term blasphemy. The witnesses had this in mind from the very beginning, and the judges undoubtedly did; and it is not superfluous for us to take up the question: what did this legal term mean? Blasphemy, or more precisely, blasphemy, is not an insult at all, but an insult which, as the name itself shows, 48 ​​is directed directly against God. This was the meaning of the word “blasphemy” in ancient times, and it began to be re-emphasized in modern times. But in European countries, governed jointly by both civil and canonical laws, blasphemy acquired a secondary and derivative meaning. In their codes, it ranks first in listing the crimes that constitute treason against the Divine, even preceding treason against the state. And this crimen leasae majestatis divinae (the crime of insulting Divine Majesty), like the crime of treason against earthly rulers, was often applied too widely in practice. We will not examine whether it is generally necessary for ordinary peoples and legislations to have in their codes such a crime as treason against God. There is no doubt that this was necessary in the Jewish state and legislation. The Jewish state was a pure theocracy, and all its prophets, priests, judges and kings were in the proper sense the dignitaries and servants of the Invisible King, by whose revelation the polity and law of Israel were determined. Under such a state structure, blasphemy, or verbal renunciation of God, was in the literal and proper sense of the word high treason; and any attempt to overthrow the great institutions of the government of God constituted treason in a derivative, not proper sense. There is no doubt that this word was used in the age of Caiaphas to designate these attempts against the divine system of the Jewish religion. Remaining on a strictly historical basis in our legal analysis, we must admit that the general course of the night trial of I. Christ was predetermined in advance (i.e., immediately after the resurrection of Lazarus, and perhaps earlier) by the leading members of the Sanhedrin and that they, and not the witnesses, actually carried out the prosecution. In the Gospel we have decisive evidence of this. At repeated meetings of the assembly, which in the fourth Gospel are called meetings of the Sanhedrin, 50 the suppression of activities, and if necessary, the death of Jesus, had already been decided. And in these meetings of the Sanhedrin that preceded the capture of Jesus Christ, not only His actions as a prophet or an opponent of existing institutions were discussed. His declarations that He was the Christ, and even the Son of God (as His closest followers had long ago admitted) - whatever meaning was attached to these mysterious declarations - greatly troubled the conscience of the Jews, especially in Jerusalem. The decision indicated in the fourth Gospel: “so that whoever recognizes Him as Christ should be excommunicated from the synagogue,” 51 did not actually reject the validity of these statements. It, as Neander believes, perhaps only left the discussion of these statements to the only authority that had the right to discuss such issues - the great council of the people; and at the same time prohibited all private persons, whatever their personal convictions, from expressing these convictions publicly until the solemn verdict of the Sanhedrin. The time for pronouncing such a sentence had arrived, and it is easy to understand what anxious questions occupied the minds of the judges while they listened to witness after witness that early morning. The testimony, as all the evangelists testify, was found at the trial to be insufficient, perhaps “irrelevant,” 52 in any case, unsuitable for the judges to base their conviction on on them alone. The rule of law in such a case clearly stated that the accused should have been released immediately. Even if the incriminating evidence had been found sufficient, the court's next step, according to the rules of Jewish legal procedure, would have been to invite defense witnesses. 53 But it would be inconvenient to make such an order at night and the trial would have to be suspended. Neither was done, but an attempt was made to cross-examine the Accused. “Why don’t you answer, that they testify against You,” these are the true words of the high priest, repeated in the two Gospels. 54 But He was silent and did not answer anything. 55 The interrogation was illegal. This silence cannot be imagined as a consequence of indignation at the mistakes or lies of the accusers or the dishonesty of the judges. That the ordinary rights of every accused Jew appeared to the mind of Jesus, we have already seen. But that He hoped to somehow avoid condemnation, or even He wanted to avoid it in the present state of affairs, there is no indication of this. All the narratives agree that He had already for some time imagined the approach of the stunning end of His earthly career. The sayings He spoke in anticipation of this end during the preceding weeks, and especially on the previous day, are known to everyone and reveal the highest self-control. This height of self-control distinguishes Him even at this decisive hour. Inaccurate or malicious retellings of what He said three years ago now did not attract his attention. He did not come to Jerusalem to die by mistake; and if we certainly wish to form some idea of ​​what thoughts occupied Him while He was silent, we may suppose that He was occupied by the sight that was now before His eyes. Finally, the sons of the house of Israel gathered before Him in the person of their supreme council and a great multitude of people. He always confessed that He was destined and sent to serve this people; now they met for the last time; and all the centuries of the past history of Israel presented themselves to the mind of Him who stood here awaiting His judgment. It is impossible to determine at what hour the great final scene, so vividly described by the three evangelists, took place. 56 There is no doubt that the private and public examination of witnesses must have taken considerable time; whether “the whole council” or one section of its members was present during the interrogations, it is quite certain that while the interrogations continued, a huge number of members of the great Sanhedrin gathered at the meeting. The members of this institution numbered seventy-one; "in the little Sanhedrin," which was probably a committee or department formed from the members of the first, there were only twenty-three members. 57 It is very possible that at such an early hour a “small assembly” was convened by Caiaphas and that no other was convened at all, although the narratives of the evangelists rather give reason to think that a “great council” was convened, which alone could at that time judge a person in a criminal court and which alone at all times could judge a prophet. 58 Let us assume, in accordance with the manner of expression of the evangelists, that at this point the law was observed. In this case, we can imagine the following picture of the court. The Council met in the Gazith Chamber. The seats of the judges were arranged in a semicircle, and one half of the members sat on the right and the other on the left of the chairman, or Nazi, who in the present case was the high priest Caiaphas. Next to him, on one side, sat the “father of the court”, on the other, the “sage”. Two scribes sat at a table to record verdicts; two attendants guarded the Prisoner, who stood directly in front of the chairman. In this mass of judges, Caiaphas and his friends represented the strong Sadducean party. The Sadducees, as rationalists, had no great enmity towards Jesus; They were repelled from Christ only by the general reluctance of all of them to recognize any participation of Divine providence in human affairs. But, as an aristocratic and official party, they very keenly took to heart the disorder which religious enthusiasm usually produces in the ordinary life of society, and were always disposed to suppress enthusiasm before it had time to spread to dangerous limits. Let us recall here the meeting that the high priests and Pharisees convened in a row after the resurrection of Lazarus. At this meeting, the leader of the Sadducees, Caiaphas, made his remarkable reference to the salus populi (the safety of the people), as a goal above all individual rights: “you know nothing and will not think that it is better for us that one man should die for the people, than that the whole people should perish.” 59 The reference was, apparently, very thorough and testified to his sound view of the character of both his people and the Roman authorities, a broad view that did not lose sight of any element that should have been taken into account, not one, with the exception of the existence of God and His providential proximity to man. The high priest then expressed a cold and calm determination, alien to hatred, to free himself from his holy fellow citizen, and then it was decided to kill Jesus. 60 But during the very execution of this plan, that is, during the trial itself, some irritation was already heard in his voice. On the other hand, the Pharisees, who also formed a significant part of the council, with their patriotic and religious convictions, at first must have thought about the preaching of Jesus and even had some sympathy for it. But the internal struggle which they undoubtedly experienced before they decisively rejected His claims was the reason that this rejection, according to the ordinary laws of human nature, was followed by a gradually increasing hostility, which by this time had developed into the most intense hatred. It was these zealots of the council who started the unusual and noisy scene that ended the meeting. During the last examination of the witnesses, Jesus remained silent; but the thought of His claim to the rights of the Messiah and God, which did not leave the judges for a minute, crushed them with its weight, and finally they could not stand it. Some differences in the narrations of the evangelists at this point (very insignificant, however) give us the opportunity to imagine this spectacle with greater detail and fidelity to history. “Are you the Christ, tell us,” 61 - the judges shouted, and the uncontrollable cries of the crowd of judges, described in one gospel, were put to an end only by the solemn spell of the chairman, recorded in another. 62 To the passionate and hostile questions of the council, Jesus first answered with a vague expression: “If I tell you, you will not believe,” 63 letting them know that they had forgotten their duty to discuss His very rights. Then He adds: “if I ask you (as He did a few days ago in the church, when they asked Him: by what authority are You doing this - Matt. 21:23), you will not answer Me and will not release” 64 your Prisoner. The remark is quite true! The council could no longer be diverted from its goal through Jesus' secondary demand from it of judicial integrity and order in court. They saw on His face the radiance of that unearthly right, which His lips still hesitated for a few moments to confirm, and with a mixed feeling of fear and hatred, standing on their feet, they said in one voice: So, are you the son of God? (Luke 22:70). But then the high priest of Israel rose above this crowd of old faces distorted by malice, and all the voices fell silent, the judges sat down; the chief dignitary and judge of the holy people, in the name of God whom he served, demanded an answer to his solemn incantation: “I adjure You by the living God, tell us, Are You the Christ the Son of the Blessed One?” This was a question that people had been waiting for a solution for so long! Now came the answer: “I am Christ, the Son of God”; and, turning to the assembly seated around Him in their official places, the Accused added: “From here on you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of Power and coming on the clouds of heaven.” 65 When the king of Judah announced his accession to the throne, he usually stood in the church near a column, and the joyful people of the Israeli country greeted him with shouts - hosannas, singing, palm branches and the sound of trumpets. And if this is how they met an ordinary king, then how should they have met the king - the Messiah? When someone blasphemed the name of God, then, according to the judicial law, everyone who heard the blasphemy had to tear his clothes from top to bottom. In which of these two ways did the Jewish people meet the confession of Jesus? As soon as Jesus testified his confession before so many witnesses, the high priest, tearing his clothes, said: “What more need do we have for witnesses? Have you heard the blasphemy? What do you think?” They answered: He is Ish Maveth, that is, guilty of death.” 66 “They all found Him guilty of death.” 67 This is how this great judgment took place. It remains for us to make a few more remarks on very few points. One of these points concerns the legality of the high priest's spell and the legal use that was made of the confession of the accused. 68 The Talmudists this time express themselves with complete certainty. “Our law,” says Maimonides, “does not condemn anyone to death on the basis of his own confession.” “Our fundamental rule,” says Bartenora, “is that no one can harm himself by what he says in court.” 69 Therefore, asking a question to the Accused was an extreme violation of the forms of justice. However, the question was asked: quid juris, i.e. by what right? If the statements made by Jesus about his messianic dignity had reached the Sanhedrin in the same form, but in a legal way, that is, from witnesses, and not from Himself, could they have led to this condemnation? In answer to this we first recall the distinction already made between blasphemy in its simple sense of impiety or insult to God, and blasphemy as a crime tantamount to treason against theocracy. In the first sense there was no blasphemy here: the words of the great Accused were full of filial devotion to the Father. 70 Therefore, we need to turn to the last sense of the word “blasphemy” and raise a difficult question: was it treason that a Jew declared himself the Messiah - the Son of God? Without the slightest doubt, if this statement was an unjust statement. In this case, the essence of the crime would consist in the falsity of the statements, and this falsity had to be proven and approved before the court decision. Just claiming the dignity of the Messiah was not a crime. “Are You the Christ?” - the Jews constantly asked John, and Jesus, and in general every reformer and every prophet, although an affirmative answer to this question was considered, without a doubt, the boldest claim that human lips could make. In what relation did the Jews of that time actually place the Messiah to their Invisible King and in what sense, unknown even to that age, the dignity of the “Son of God” was attributed to the expected Messiah - the solution of these questions is not required by our task. The statement of this double right by the Defendant, made in response to the question of the great high priest, who put these two concepts into mutual connection (Are you the Christ the Son of God - Matthew 26:63), could in no way relieve the Jewish court from the obligation to discuss His claims. An unbelieving judge like Caiaphas, when his spell was answered with a confession, should have really objected: “What sign will You give so that we will see and believe You?” 71 But instead, he tore his clothes and said, “What more need do we have for witnesses?” . 72 Such a turn of events was either agreed upon in advance in order to end this supposedly legal proceeding with this maneuver, or it was a sudden inspiration of evil, when the unjust judge was no longer completely in control of himself; cold calculations and bloodthirsty thoughts, hidden in him for so long, suddenly rushed out uncontrollably from contact with Righteousness standing face to face in front of him. We are done with the Jewish trial of Jesus Christ. Here are the conclusions the study leads to: I. The trial began, continued, and, it seems, ended in almost one night; Witnesses against the Accused were found by the judges, but the testimony could not be accepted even by such judges. II. The trial began with cross-examinations, which Jewish law did not allow, and ended with a demand for one's own consciousness, which was directly prohibited by Jewish interpreters of the law. III. The trial was followed, twenty-four hours ahead of schedule, by a verdict declaring blasphemy to claim the right to the dignity of the Fulfiller of Israel's hopes. Such a court had neither the form nor the integrity of legal proceedings. We now turn to consideration of Roman legal proceedings. II. Roman legal proceedings The Law of Moses, perpetuated, albeit in modified form, by Christianity, was perhaps the most influential legislation in the world. But this law had a rival in the law of powerful Rome. The written wisdom of Roman law overflowed “into our entire modern life,” and the lawyers of all new nations look with filial respect at their predecessors - the great legal advisers of the imperial republic. But there is an important difference between these two influences. In Jewish society, law was a product of religion. He assimilated the divine origin that was called upon him and Christianity. There is no indication that the Jewish tribe was distinguished by an innate sense of justice or an irresistible desire for truth, which in themselves, without religion, would have led the people to the creation and development of national law and which would even have prevented religion. The entire history and literature of the Jews shows, on the contrary, that it was religion that molded the Jewish people into this form and subsequently led to a broad, albeit imperfect, development of the art of goodness and truth (ars boni et aequi), or jurisprudence. The rabbinical development of God-given law, as we have seen, is distinguished by constant exaggerations and intricacies, revealing the natural inability of the tribe to the highest degrees of judicial perfection. That is why, even at the time we are dealing with now, it remained a weak, isolated from outside influences, an Asian tribe, thoroughly saturated with national and religious prejudices. It is not from such tribes that one should look for examples of uniform laws and their fair and intelligent application to life. But in the world there were, just as there are now, tribes gifted to an excellent degree with that deep sense of truth that lies at the basis of every law. And among all these tribes, ancient and new, one should recognize the greatest as the one that ruled Palestine and the world in the era under discussion. When the scepter, taken from Judas, passed into the powerful and formidable hands of Rome, then all the peoples began to replace their fear of the warlike power with surprise at its governmental wisdom - a surprise that has not diminished to this day. This surprise was combined, in addition, with trust and submissive devotion to this wisdom. The eastern tribes instinctively felt then what, two thousand years later, we can trace historically - namely, that Roman law owed its incomparable authority to the severe virtues of the Latin tribe and the pre-imperial republic. The influential power of this law was then unconsciously recognized, but now it is possible to trace with clarity how the law arose from that instinct of truth that guided the praetor and proconsul in every conquered country long before Ulpian or Gaius gave this instinct the form of an immortal written law. Pontius Pilate was at this time the representative of Rome in Judea, the ruler, as he is called in the gospels. 73 He was Procurator Caesaris, that is, the authorized representative, or governor, of Tiberius in this province. He was not only a procurator fiscalis with powers that did not exceed those of the quaestor. San Pilate was not a subordinate or financial position. Pilate was procurator cum potestate, a ruler with civil, judicial and military powers, subordinate, no doubt in place, to the neighboring ruler of Syria, but directly responsible only to the great ruler at Rome. What was the relationship of the emperor himself to the inhabitants of Judea and to the world? The answer to this is of great importance. The Emperor was nothing more or less than a representative of Rome. In modern times, the imperial title has become associated with the concept of unlimited power, exceeding royal power. For the Romans, even in the days of Tiberius, the name of the king was intolerable, and absolutism, if it was not hidden under republican forms, aroused indignation in them. Therefore, Augustus, having become the undisputed head of the republic and decided to strengthen this order of things, remained in name simply a private patrician, or citizen. The “Savior of Society” did not dare to violate the established state structure. He took into his own hands all the powers and offices, all the honors and advantages which the state had during the past centuries distributed among its chief dignitaries and representatives. He became the irremovable Princeps Senatus, or president of the legislative assembly. He became the permanent Pontifex Maximus, or head of the national religion. He became an irremovable tribune, or guardian of the people, as a result of which his face was made sacred and inviolable. He became permanent consul, or the highest dignitary, over the entire Roman world with the right to verify income, dispose of troops and enforce laws by force. Finally, he became the irremovable emperor, or military head, to whom every warrior in the legion swore allegiance and to whom the sword from the Indus and Gibraltar reached to the Pole. And with all this, he was a simple citizen, only a dignitary of the republic. In this one man was now collected and visibly concentrated everything that over the centuries Rome acquired and distributed and that the conquered peoples attributed to Rome. Thus Tiberius, the first heir to the state created by Caesar Augustus, was in the strictest sense the representative of that great city which ruled over the kings of the earth. In turn, the Roman horseman who now ruled Judea was a representative of Tiberius and his social significance. Augustus, as is known, divided the provinces into two classes. He gave the Senate the right to send proconsuls to the more peaceful and central provinces, but retained his consular and military authority over them. Some provinces, like Judea, he retained in his own hands as their proconsul, or ruler. In a strict and legal sense, the ruler of the Jewish people at the time of which we write was not Pilate in Caesarea or Vitellius in Antioch, but Tiberius in Rome. He was proconsul, or governor, of Judea on behalf of the still existing republic - a republic now almost identified with himself. And Pilate, whom the Jews usually called their ruler, was in the strict sense the procurator, or viceroy, of this great proconsul, and exercised civil and military power as the representative of the one in whom the unlimited power of Rome was then concentrated. Before this tribunal, the council of the Sanhedrin brought its Prisoner on Friday. On this Friday morning, Pilate sat in his praetorium, decided cases and administered justice, as usual. It is impossible to determine for sure in what place in Jerusalem his judicial seat was located this time. Perhaps in the fortress under the tower of Antony, under that visible symbol of Roman dominion, towering menacingly near the church, or perhaps (and much more likely), 74 the Roman court took place in “Herod’s praetorium,” the magnificent palace to the north of the church, described by Josephus and built shortly before this time by the Idumean kings. In front of the palace lay a white marble semicircle, which was an open space facing the holy city and was almost as much a public place as the space between the Antonia fortress and the church. On this platform a mobile tribunal (Bema or βημα) could be erected in a very short time. This morning Pilate was still sitting in the courtroom - inside the palace; from outside the noise of the eastern city was heard, awakening on the eve of Easter: inside the clang of Roman weapons was heard, the altars of the Roman gods rose and, perhaps, there was a sculptural image of the distant demigod Tiberius. The priests and teachers of the people, who strictly observed their folk customs, could not enter this pagan chamber during the entire holy week of Easter; and the Roman, with his Roman grin, willingly removed this difficulty by himself going out of the gate with his warrior lictors. When Pilate's gaze fell on the Prisoner, who stood before him with his hands tied, the first words of the ruler were the following: what do you accuse this man of? 75 We immediately recognize here the true voice of Roman justice. There is no doubt that these words directly indicated Pilate's own right and authority to re-examine the matter. Otherwise they cannot be understood. They, moreover, recall the noble saying of Pilate’s successor in this seat: “The Romans are not in the habit of handing over any person to death before the accused has accusers in front of him and has the freedom to defend himself against the accusation.” 76 This is what the worst of the Roman rulers always said (and neither Pilate nor Festus belonged to the best) - by instinct and tradition of justice, which did not leave them even among the treacherous tribes. The chief priests and scribes were unwilling to present the required accusation in certain terms. If He, they said, had not been a villain, we would not have handed Him over to you. 77 This blatant evasion of a direct answer to Pilate’s question could not win him over in favor of the accusers, and he immediately puts the matter on its rightful ground with a calm, but somewhat contemptuous objection: Take Him you, and judge Him according to your law. 78 To this the accusers answered stubbornly: We are not allowed (οὐκ ἔξεστιν) to put anyone to death. The answer explained what, perhaps, was already contained in the word “villain” and what the Prisoner’s presentation to Pilate’s court clearly indicated - namely, that they came to bring criminal charges. This ended the preliminary explanation. 79 At this point in the present history the question of the conflict between judicial powers and jurisdiction arises. Why did the Jews go to Pilate when their Sanhedrin pronounced a sentence over Jesus: guilty of death? 80 Did the Jews have the right to pronounce such a sentence? Or, having this right, did they not only have the power to carry it out? How far did the ruler's power extend: could he cancel the sentence of the Sanhedrin or only suspend its execution? Which of them - the ruler or the Sanhedrin - had jus vitae aut necis (the right of life or death)? At the time of Jesus, what was the relationship between the two powers—Jewish and Roman—to each other? These questions are very difficult, and scientists in their answers express different, even contradictory, opinions. In the dispute between Salvador and Dupin, the former (remaining in this case true to the fatal cry of his people: His blood is on us and on our children) tried to prove that the Sanhedrin had every right to judge even criminal offenses and that its death sentence needed only the approval of the Roman ruler. Salvador's opponent argued that the Jewish court had no right to judge serious or at least criminal crimes, that all its actions in the present trial were an abuse of power, and that the only valid or legal trial was the one that took place before Pilate. It is not our intention to dissect the enormous mass of historical research that has been done on this undoubtedly difficult point. Historical monuments do not contain precise and decisive instructions for resolving the issues raised. Thus, it would be too hasty to attribute the dignity of chronological accuracy to the testimony of the Talmud that “forty years before the destruction of the church, criminal justice was taken away from Israel.” But it is very remarkable in that it indicates the time about which, according to the teachers of Jewish law, the power of life and death (no doubt already limited or abolished under the despotic rule of Herod) was finally taken from them. But in general, several considerations can be presented about the relationship of the two authorities in question, which, it seems, were not always taken into account by researchers. These are the considerations: 1) Regarding this subject, there was no agreement between the Romans and Jews. The latter were a conquered people; their judicial rights, including the power of life and death, were taken from them de facto (in deed), and they were obliged to submit. But de jure (by right) they never recognized this. For them, at least for the vast mass of the people, the Sanhedrin still remained the people's power, especially on charges relating to religious matters. 2) From the Roman point of view, this matter had a completely different look. The Romans' view of the judicial rights of conquered peoples in general and the Jews in particular was that they should have such rights as they, the rulers, recognized as best to give them. In most cases these rights were quite extensive. The Roman ruler asserted or even took care of the exact execution of the previous laws of the country; At the same time, the policy of the ruling government made all possible concessions to local self-government. These concessions, naturally, had the widest scope where there was no noticeable disposition on the part of the province to fight the conquerors. In Roman law, as in Roman wars, in matters of justice, as in matters of politics, the rule of the wise and haughty rulers of the world was parcere subjectis et debellare superbos (to spare the humble and subdue the proud). 3) It is obvious that in relation to this subject, wide scope was given to the highest Roman dignitaries - proconsuls or procurators, when they performed the duties of the highest justice. The Republic and the Emperor allowed, and even demanded, that they strengthen or weaken their power in accordance with the individual case or circumstances. The rule by which they were guided in ordinary cases brought before their tribunals was expressed perfectly, a few years after the event that now occupies us, by Annaeus Gallio, the humane proconsul of Achaia and brother of the philosopher Seneca: “If the matter concerned a misdemeanor or a crime, then I would have reason to conduct it with you, Jews; but if it arises from questions about words, names and your law, then examine it yourself; I don’t want to be a judge in such cases.” Although the Roman dignitaries avoided such questions from themselves as long as they did not concern the rights of the supreme power, the slightest hint that one of these words or names or one of these questions of another law could harm the supreme power gave the ruler the full right “to plunge his ax with swift and cruel cruelty into a suspicious part of the body politic.” These general considerations should never be lost sight of when reading the fragmentary and often mutually inconsistent historical reports on this subject. They show that the extreme views supported by modern critics were also defended in ancient times by opposing authorities - Roman and local. But the strongest evidence lies on the side of the proposition that at this time all cases involving the death penalty were left by Roman law and practice to the final decision of the Roman governor. In such cases, the Jews only had the responsibility of investigating the matter (cognitio causae). And there can be no doubt that the power of the ruler in these cases was not limited to the mere right to approve and execute the sentence (executio); he also had the right to review (recognitio) the case, at least in cases where he wanted to exercise this right. In relation to ordinary crimes - robberies and murders - the Jewish leaders could be content with bringing the perpetrators to trial before a Roman tribunal and not intervening further in the matter. The Roman ruler, on the other hand, could, without any contradiction and without further research on his part, send ordinary villains to the cross, against whom the native authorities, who had already investigated the case, were accusers. But, obviously, a difficulty arose when the crime that was the subject of the charge belonged to the field of religion, and consisted of an attempt to change, in the capacity of a prophet or Messiah, church institutions. In this case, the Sanhedrin, relying on the common conviction of all Jews, undoubtedly retained the exclusive right of the court of first instance and tried by all means to reject any review of the case (recognitio) on the part of the Roman authority or, without turning to this authority at all or limiting it, to the sole right to approve its sentences. This is what the Jews thought and should have thought; but the Roman governor, if such a case were brought before his court, might take a completely different view. The narrative of the fourth Gospel, citing the authentic speeches of the characters, amazingly depicts the historical relations of the depicted parties at this time, and its narrative, in combination with the news of the other Gospels, frees us from the need to prove the general provisions we have expressed. Whether it was lawful for the Jews to condemn for a criminal offense or not, in the present case they did so. Whether it was legal or not for Pilate to interrogate again the accused whom they had condemned, in the present case he did so. Apparently there were two trials going on here. And the conversation we have already quoted depicts with amazing art the struggle (which should have been expected) between the efforts of the Jews to obtain a simple confirmation of their verdict and Pilate’s decision to accept full judicial responsibility both for the trial in the first instance and for the review of the case. The resistance of the Jews in the present case had its basis, no doubt, not so much in their ordinary ecclesiastical independence as in the fear that Pilate, having reinvestigated the matter, would refuse to carry out their plan. Be that as it may, the dispute that began prompted the procurator to make a public announcement in front of people who belonged to both nations and surrounded his judicial seat at that time - to declare his right and duty to deal with this criminal case as a judge. From then on, it was no longer a simple matter of the administration, nor the subject of a short police investigation or a military court; it was now a real trial of life and death, which was carried out by the supreme civil ruler, who placed himself with his jurisdiction between the accused and the main authorities of the conquered people. The accusation demanded by Pilate had to be brought because he resolutely insisted on his right to be a judge in this case. The accusation is described in considerable detail in the Gospel of Luke; and although omitted in the other three Gospels, the first question addressed by Pilate to Jesus and mentioned in all the Gospels gives us the right to conclude that his question was preceded by an accusation. Luke conveys the accusation in the following form: “we have found that He corrupts our people and forbids giving tribute to Caesar, calling Himself Christ the King.” 81 If the accusation had retained the form it received at the Sanhedrin, if purely religious or ecclesiastical guilt had now been indicated, then a different question would have been proposed. If the chief priests, when they began to accuse Jesus, had said directly what they cried out in passion at the end of the matter: “We have a law, and according to our law He must die, because He made Himself the Son of God,” 82 it might have been doubtful what Pilate would have done in this case. He, as ruler, had the power to enforce their law, or had the right of supervision and control in doing so; but he, like Gallio, could see in this whole matter nothing more than a dispute about words, although he could also dwell on the idea that these words contain important consequences for the state. The choice for him, however, was eliminated by a change in the form of the charge. If we recognize the expressions given by Luke as equivalent to a denunciation (nominis delatio) according to Roman law or the oath of two (no less) witnesses - accusers according to Jewish law, then both the previous and the following will become clearer to us. The charge of corruption (διαστρέφοντα), perhaps containing the concepts of both “indignation” and “seduction” of the people, was quite sincerely and clearly expressed in the Jewish legal proceedings of the previous night. No doubt this accusation was ambiguous to Roman ears, but this ambiguity did not stop the accusers from bringing it. They reasoned much earlier: “If we leave Him like this, then everyone will believe in Him, and the Romans will come and take possession of both our place and our people.” 83 The main accusation that Jesus called “himself Christ the King” was also true and was recognized as true by the Accused himself, although hardly in the sense in which the accusers expected his ruler to understand it. But if we turn to Luke’s narrative, we will be convinced that the accusation did not stop at this dubious form that did not achieve its goal. The leaders of the prosecution, no doubt, did not want to present a deliberately false accusation before the pagan tribunal. They wanted, with as little lying as possible, to turn on foreign power the hatred that the death penalty of the prophet was supposed to arouse among the people. But the declaration of Christ as innocent, made by Pilate 84 completely unexpectedly for them, seems to have forced them to that infamy, which they themselves would have recognized as best to avoid: to the vague accusations of corrupting the people and appropriating the royal dignity of the Messiah, they add as an explanation the prohibition of giving tribute to Caesar. 85 The last accusation was a complete lie, and some of the accusers must have known that it stood in direct contradiction to the known answer of Jesus Christ on this matter. This false accusation contained such detail as they were sure would give deadly force to other, more vague, though true, charges and make it impossible for the ruler to reject the criminal process. Thus, we can now unmistakably determine the crime that was presented by the prosecution. This is lese majeste, the greatest crime according to Roman law, the greatest crime that could be imagined by the Roman imagination, that is, an attack on the supreme power or supreme majesty of the Roman state. 86 In the early days of the Republic, the name perduellio was used to denote treason and rebellion, and a citizen condemned by the people for this crime was "deprived of fire and water" or was hanged from an ill-fated tree (arbor infelix). When the law of the city of Rome extended its power to the limits of the world, then treason acquired the meaning of an attack on the majesty of the world-powerful city, various laws were issued to define this crime and the rules of trial over it, and the main place among them was occupied by the law of the Julias (Lex Julia). According to this law, every accusation of treason directed against a Roman citizen had to be presented in the form of a written denunciation. A citizen of the Jewish province, it goes without saying, did not enjoy such protection of the law. He, standing before the procurator of Caesar, had no other defense against the misuse of unlimited power than the arguments of justice. Now we move on to defense. All the Gospels agree that Pilate asked Jesus the same question in the same words: Are you the King of the Jews? , 87 and that after His affirmative answer, this Roman came to the paradoxical conclusion that he did not find any guilt in Him. 88 In the fourth Gospel we find a conversation that fully explains this apparent paradox. Jesus' affirmative answer is striking in its power. Jesus, as is evident from all the Gospels, used this strong mode of expression at times, and especially in the difficult circumstances of His ministry, or when He touched upon the hidden "mysteries of the kingdom" which He preached, or when His own rights were questioned. This feature in His mode of expression became more and more intensified towards the end of His earthly career. Therefore, we affirm that the answer in question, although mentioned only in the last Gospel, but necessarily assumed by all the others, has all the internal signs of historical authenticity. This conversation took place in the praetorium, 89 where Jesus could have been detained while Pilate discussed with the accusers whether he had jurisdiction over the present case. Now Pilate called his Prisoner into the inner part of the praetorium and asked him a sudden question: Are you the King of the Jews? 90 Jesus answered: “Are you saying this on your own, or have others told you about Me?” 91 and this answer does not express a desire to know what was said by the Jews in His absence, but has a deeper meaning. His words are equivalent to the following speech: “In what sense are you using this expression? If you say this on your own behalf, in the sense in which a Roman would naturally use this word, then I am not the king of the Jews. But if others have told you this about Me, if you mean the words of the Jewish prophets about the king in the sense of the aspirations of the whole world, then they require further clarification.” Pilate hastily answers, as a Roman should have answered: “Am I a Jew? Your people and the chief priests delivered You up to me; what have you done? 92 With these words, Pilate placed - and not without skill - the burden of explanation on the Accused; and He, who remained silent at night before the Sanhedrin and did not give any answer even now to the false accusations brought against him, immediately answered openly to the pagan dignitary, who wanted to know the truth about this matter: “My kingdom is not of this world: if My kingdom were of this world, then My servants would fight for Me... but My kingdom is not from here.” 93 Considering these memorable words, we will analyze them only from a historical and, in particular, from a judicial point of view. Whatever the meaning of these words in other respects, in content and form they constitute a defence. Although they contain a secret statement by the Accused about his royal dignity, they nevertheless express a desire to more accurately determine the properties of the kingdom, the claim to which was the subject of the accusation. They seem to admit that the kingdom of this world would be a legitimate object of persecution for Caesar's viceroy, but they deny that the kingdom of Jesus can be charged against Him. The most important explanation of these words is the well-known scene when the issue of paying taxes was being decided, when Jesus, being asked, as a Jewish zealot for the fatherland and prophet, whether it was permissible to give taxes to Caesar or not, answered: show me the denarius, and, having proposed a deeply significant question about the image and the inscription minted on it, concluded the argument with the words: “And so render, Caesar’s things to Caesar, and God’s things to God.” 94 This circumstance, in connection with the whole of present history, assures us that an attack on Roman power was not part of the plan of His kingdom, nor was it part of the plan of Christianity. But this decisive statement spoken to Pilate (as well as His previous decision regarding the tribute to Caesar) showed that the clash between the kingdom which Jesus was preparing to recognize as His own, and between that great kingdom of this world, 95 of which His judge was now the representative, was not inevitable in essence, although in reality it could very likely happen. These words would have no meaning if it were not recognized that they establish the separateness of the regions, in which it is possible for each power to limit itself and, by limiting itself in this way, to avoid mutual conflict. Only one of the two kingdoms is positively described by Christ, and this kingdom is generally defined as the kingdom of this world; This definition is explained by indicating that in each such kingdom the ruler can defend himself with the armed force of his subjects. The other kingdom is defined only by denying it these characteristics. Pilate, as the consequences show, was impressed by these words of Christ and, perhaps, convinced him that the Accused was innocent of any conspiracy against Rome. And yet Jesus spoke of a kingdom - a kingdom in this world, although not of this world, 96 and His words of renunciation of the kingdom were in the essence of the matter more royal than all the royal sayings that this Roman had ever heard. With the true tact of a judge, the ruler then touches on the very point that should have been brought out of negative darkness to the level of clear statement. So, are You the King? 97 - he asked the Prisoner, whose kingdom was not of this world. And just as before, to the incantation of the high priest, so now to the question of the representative of earthly greatness, an answer was given that made a decisive revolution in world history: You say that I am the King. 98 He who spoke thus to the Roman governor knew that with these words He himself was lifting himself to the cross and that the next few hours would be the last in His life full of destinies. And this thought presented itself to His mind, for He deliberately added: “For this purpose I was born and for this purpose I came into the world, to testify to the truth.” 99 Whatever other meaning may be contained in words so great, this testimony of the truth, of course, already contained within itself the testimony that He had previously given when He “testified before Pontius Pilate a good confession” about the existence of a true and real kingdom, although not of this world. But this addition to the previous words had a deeper meaning than the mere affirmation of the existence of a spiritual kingdom, separate from the worldly. It proclaimed the existence of that which serves as the basis of all human virtue and justice, but which in recent centuries had become alien to Roman ears - the existence of an eternal world of truth outside man, a universal divine system of things, standing above any local or popular tradition and, of course, above all human beliefs and desires. People have no power over this objective truth: their highest advantage is to recognize and profess it. And it is recognized by those who already have a kindred attraction to this central (central) truth - everyone who is from the truth. The last words of Him who now claimed the right to the dignity of both witness and king of this great world of truth were: “Everyone who is of the truth hears My voice.” 100 “Pilate answered him: What is truth?” 101 This meaningless question, half sarcastic, half contemptuous, but entirely skeptical, we will explain later, and now we will follow the actions of the judge. 102 Without waiting for an answer to the question that randomly presented itself to him, Pilate again turns to the prosecution and the Accused. All narratives agree among themselves that Pilate drew up and expressed such a conclusion that he does not find any guilt in the Accused. 103 The last Gospel separately says that the public expression of this conviction was made by Pilate precisely at that very point in the conversation and defense to which we have now reached. Be that as it may, this was the only defense which the Accused is known to have presented throughout His trial; and Pilate immediately left the praetorium and announced his verdict, perhaps even from the judge’s seat. But this saying, as it turned out later, was only the first step in that incessantly accelerating movement of weakness, which is so well known in the world, and a movement that begins with indecision and softness, then passes alternately through all subsequent degrees of self-praise and desire to be served - conviction, hesitation, protest and compromise, superstitious fear, struggle with conscience, cautious duplicity and finally reaches complete moral cowardice. This Roman remained forever the type of unrighteous judge who decides cases “contrary to his best conviction.” We do not need to dwell at length on some of the points of this gospel narrative. The fact, completely true to history, that the judge, having caught on the fly the use of Galilee and made sure that the Accused was a Galilean (which means he belonged to Herod’s region), sent him to Herod, can only be noted in passing. The word used here is ἀνέπεμψεν (remisit, returned), which, apparently, served as a special technical term denoting the return of the accused to the court to which he was actually subject, which happened here too, when the Savior was sent from the forum apprehensionis (court at the place of imprisonment) to the forum originis (court at the place of origin). Herod's evasion from the trial of Jesus was as prudent as it was polite, if you recall the points of the accusation. Not only a Roman citizen, but even a provincial citizen, accused of lese majeste, had to be tried before the court of Caesar. 104 The Edomite “fox” (i.e. Herod), who was afraid of the lion’s claws, very kindly exchanged politeness with the lion’s governor. At the second appearance of the Defendant before the tribunal of the ruler, the increasingly increasing weakness of the judge and the increased pressure on him from the accusers began to be revealed very clearly. His wife's morning message 105 troubles his conscience, but does not cleanse his heart. Pilate now agreed, having punished Him, to release Him, 106 i.e. to torture an innocent man with a heavy Roman scourge! The Jewish accusers reject this deal; and Pilate (a very characteristic feature in him), having apparently already decided to send Him to the cross, tries to influence the compassion of the accusers and shield himself from the case. He washes his hands and utters completely idle words: “I am not guilty of the blood of this Righteous One.” 107 After the scourging, the three evangelists mention only the insults inflicted by the rude Roman soldiers on Jesus, who was given into their power as a Jewish traitor to their emperor. But the last evangelist inserts a series of events, which now, as before, he describes with amazing vividness and with irresistible truthfulness. He alone mentions the saying - this is a man, 108 with which the procurator tried to touch the Jewish crowd, experiencing a difficult internal struggle and remaining “unjustly just” due to his “unbelieving faith.” He alone also mentions the answer of the accusers: “we have a law, and according to our law He must die, because He made Himself the Son of God,” 109 - an answer that is completely consistent with the narrative of the Jewish court, which is found in the three Synoptics, but omitted from John. He mentions the unexpected, but very natural effect of this statement on the ruler, who was already strongly impressed by the previous expressions of the “King who came into the world.” 110 “Where are you from”? 111 – he asks almost with trepidation. But from the first moment his hesitation began, Jesus stopped answering him. He is silent now. And Pilate, precisely at this time, when, according to the evangelist, he was more afraid, 112 adopted that rude tone, which, according to less accurate secular historians, was his characteristic: “Do you not answer me: Do you not know that I have the power to crucify You and the power to release You?” 113 Jesus breaks the silence with the last response word, which is of great importance for us: “You would not have I have no power, if it were not given to you from above; therefore there is greater sin on him who delivered Me to you.” 114 Let us first note here the extraordinary restraint and almost compassion with which the Sufferer judges His judge. 115 The words “you would have no...power unless it had been given you from above” refer to the previous recognition of the kingdom of this world, 116 in which people must render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's; 117 Meanwhile, to this recognition they add a clearly expressed concept (subsequently revealed in detail by the apostles) that this earthly kingdom with its earthly goals also has a beginning from above. The existing authorities are established by God. Pilate, who did not know this, abused his great and legal rights partly out of pagan ignorance; and to this extent he was guilty less than the false accusers who sat in Moses' seat. It is not surprising that these words aroused in the judge a last effort to save himself from his weakness, but it was already too late. The Jewish hierarchs now measured the completely moral weakness of this man, and their final proof was skillfully calculated to suppress the last remnant of conscience in him: “If you let Him go, you are not a friend of Caesar. Anyone who makes himself a king is an opponent of Caesar.” 118 Few sayings have greater historical value than this last statement of the Jewish scribes. To understand all its power, we must remember that Caesar, as we have already explained, united in himself all the public offices of the republic, so that treason against the state and treason against it became almost identical. The former Roman vigilance in suppressing attempts against Rome now received new strength, turning into the jealous personal suspicion of the despot. It was not an accidental turn of phrase that cunning Jewish politicians, instead of saying: “everyone who makes himself a king is an enemy” to the majesty of the Roman state, preferred the expression: “everyone who makes himself a king is an enemy of Caesar.” 119 Long before this period, although during the reign of Tiberius, the last type of crime became the most dangerous to life. Some of the accusers must have remembered the earlier days of the dynasty, when Julius and Octavius ​​themselves had successfully trampled upon the rights of the “Majesty of the Republic,” and when the Jews, having shown adherence to them during this great revolution, had earned the name of “friends of Caesar,” which subsequently acquired the meaning of an honorary title. And they all should have known that while the first emperor extended the law on treason by establishing punishment for pamphlets against his own person, Tiberius, distinguished by his zeal for despotism by even more terrible suspicion, used the “laws of majesty” (leges majestatis) against everyone who did not show servility to himself, even if they did not say anything against him (ἀντιλέγειν) and did not speak out for the claims of others hostile to Caesar. The great Roman historian mentions that even before the time when Pilate was sent to Judea, the provinces, appearing before Tiberius with complaints against their proconsuls, tried to add to the usual accusations of predation the accusation of treason. 120 To Pilate, who was personally dependent on the mercy of the emperor (mercy, it seems, acquired initially through Senna, who lost power around this time), all this had to be presented constantly and persistently, especially since he had already earned hatred from his province and feared its revenge. His fears were not unfounded. Tiberius was still sitting on the throne when, a few years later, Pilate was replaced, and ambassadors from Palestine, in the hope of proven loyalty of the Jews to the imperial house, were sent to Rome to bring complaints against the recalled and deposed ruler. The shadow of this distant day paralyzed Pilate this morning. What if, having been accused before Caesar of predation and bloodshed and knowing too well his guilt in these crimes, he reads in the eyes of his stern ruler that this new accusation has also been brought against him, as the completion and crown of all other guilts? And so he, who had so long resisted all other arguments, now at once bowed before the well-thought-out words: “If you let Him go, you are not Caesar’s friend; “Everyone who makes himself a king is an opponent of Caesar.” 121 He ascended to the tribunal, from which only the Roman judge could legally pronounce the final decision (in the present case, the tribunal apparently served as a movable seat taken from the praetorium and placed in front of him on the “lyphostrophon” or stone platform). But even here he gave vent to his bitter feelings, turning to his accusers with the words: “Shall I crucify your king?” 122 But when the high priests gave a decisive answer: we have no king except Caesar, 123 the judge turned to the One who claimed the right to another kingdom, and with the words “ibis ad crucem” (You will go to the cross) he handed Him over to be crucified. “Was Pilate right when he crucified Christ?” The question is very strange for the ears of the Orthodox reader, and for any educated person who respects the principle of the so-called freedom of conscience, because, apparently, only one answer is possible - negative. “If this principle be rejected,” says John Stuart Mill, “then we must approve of Marcus Aurelius and the other persecutors of Christianity, even we must go further and justify Pontius Pilate.” There was, however, a bold critic who did not hesitate to subject the principle of freedom of conscience to a bold attack and took upon himself the task of justifying Pilate. Let's consider the argumentation of this Pilate's lawyer - the Englishman Stephen. He begins with the assumption (which he made first) that Pilate could in good faith believe that his course of action was necessary to preserve public peace in Palestine. 124 This assumption is completely arbitrary. Subsequently we will touch upon the question of whether he can be acquitted of the charge of convicting a person whom he considered innocent, but now we will say that we do not find the slightest basis for this assumption. According to the unanimous testimony of the Evangelists, he expressed a clear conviction in the innocence of his Prisoner, knew that they had betrayed Him out of envy, 125 spoke with mockery and contempt to the Jews about their King, and finally yielded to those reckless popular outcries (vanae voces populi), against which the Roman law warned him, and yielded only when his personal interests began to be endangered. But remarkably, the Christian narratives that recount the history of these events do not reveal any hostility towards Pilate. Jewish and other writers, speaking about the character of this ruler, portray him as a selfish and unjust man. Christian historians have not taken the trouble to describe in detail and accurately his moral image: they speak about him only in passing when they describe his actions, which, however, could arouse the deepest indignation against him. And yet, these passing sketches of Pilate’s personality present the ruler as a delicate and even gentle person, so that the accusatory portrayal of him by Philo and Joseph seems like a crude, vindictive caricature. 126 People who know the pressure of public opinion will understand the internal struggle that took place that morning in the soul of the sixth procurator of Judea, will appreciate the high impartiality of the description of this struggle made by the friends of the Prisoner whom he crucified; they will also understand the reasons for Pilate’s hesitation. And yet they will not make the assumption that he thought for even one moment that his decision was aimed at preserving calm in the province, because such an assumption, as has been said, does not have the slightest historical basis. Let us move on to other provisions of the critic who defended Pilate. That the judge, even if he had not been a military ruler sent from Rome, with unlimited power, could and should have put to death a man who openly and deliberately incited a rebellion, no one will argue about this. Neither Mill nor any other defender of liberty questions the duty of government to preserve the public peace. But a serious question arises as to whether the ruler, whether sitting or not sitting as a judge, was obliged to put to death a man who personally, in his conviction, had no designs against public peace, but who was in fact dangerous to this peace? 127 In addressing this issue, it is necessary to keep in mind the distinction between the judicial and administrative powers. The question, therefore, breaks down into two: a) could Pilate, as the ruler of a province, condemn an ​​innocent person to exile or even death in order to maintain peace in the province; (b) Could he have done something similar, sitting (as in this case) as a judge and examining whether a famous person was guilty of the crimes of which he was accused? Only the last question is important for us, because Pilate acted here as a judge. They say about one judge that he said to a prisoner on trial: “I am sentencing you to death not so that you rob this house, but so that other people will not rob other houses in the future.” This judge, if he really existed and pronounced such a sentence, simply committed legal murder. Caiaphas (and not Pilate) took a similar point of view when he thought that it was better for one man to die for the people. 128 But not only Pilate, but even Caiaphas did not prove the usefulness of execution by directly threatening an explosion of popular passions or any danger to public peace. In fact, there was no such imminent danger. The last argument in favor of the Roman governor—the only argument which can have any historical weight, and bears on the great question of freedom of conscience or the suppression of freedom of opinion—Pilate's English lawyer sets forth in the following propositions: “Pilate’s duty was to maintain public peace and order in Judea and to protect Roman rule. It is absolutely impossible to prove seriously that he, or anyone else in his position, was obliged to recognize in the man brought before his court—I do not say—God incarnate, but a teacher and preacher of a higher form of morality and a more durable form of social order in comparison with those of which he himself was the representative. For a man in Pilate’s position, morality and social order, of which he himself was the representative, were the absolute standards for all practical purposes.” 129 We will see later whether Roman law adhered to this theory. But the author presents his theory as universal and true, against which it seems difficult to argue seriously. So be it. Analysis of this theory is not included in our study, no matter how much it contradicts our views. 130 But here it is appropriate to point out that the Accused in his defense directly went against such a theory. His speech about his kingdom, that is, about the highest and dominant “form of moral and social order”, established by Him in the world and different from the power of Rome, in itself already indicated the obligation to recognize this kingdom. But when this speech was further supported by an indication of the truth, for the confession of which people are born into the world, the Defendant directly said that the truth, and not any social order and not the faith bequeathed by tradition, should serve as the “final and unconditional standard.” And the last words addressed to Pilate indicate the duty of everyone in his position to recognize the teacher of this higher order of things and extra-worldly truth. “Everyone who is of the truth listens to My voice.” 131 Those who generally deny the authenticity of the Gospel of John and, in particular, do not recognize the narrative of this conversation as correct, still cannot help but recognize the fact that this was precisely the position occupied by Christianity in history. Christianity not only declared that it was the highest form of morality and religion among their other forms; but that it is true religion in the sense of both its universality and obligatory nature. And the empire, which could still have left Christianity unnoticed while it represented simply the highest form of morality or even social order, could not fail to notice it when it declared itself as a universal and obligatory form. When it declared that it was the truth, Rome first asked: “What is the truth?” When it began to insist on the right of truth to subjugate people, Rome responded with persecution. Meanwhile, Christianity persistently and constantly preached the duty of every member in the state (whether he would be invested with power or not) to recognize this truth, testify to it and, if necessary, die for it. Now it becomes clear the interest that the question of truth has always aroused in Pilate’s researchers. This question was not the expression of a philosopher or a statesman, but simply a typical “phrase of the then educated Roman.” And precisely because this was so, the question: “What is truth?” opens before us that inclined plane on which the powerful Roman world then uncontrollably rolled into the abyss. The Roman Republic - we must never forget this - had already ceased to believe in its own moral and social order. This fact is undeniable, but its great significance is too rarely recognized. Greece is remembered with sadness here with its search for ideal truth - a bold and fruitless search that never ended, always began and passed through the deserts of doubt and the seas of speculation under the guidance of unfaithful guiding stars. The Greeks were now replaced by a greater tribe, the greatest that the earth had ever known, a tribe called and prepared for long centuries for the work of ruling the world, but struck by internal impotence due to a lack of motives and hopes - precisely at the time when it received into its hands the disposal of the world's inheritance. The state of the then Roman is vividly depicted by one English poet in the following picture: “In his cool hall, with gloomy eyes, lies the noble Roman; he rode at breakneck speed along the Appian Way; he feasted, drank heavily and a lot, and crowned his hair with flowers; but the naughty hours passed no easier or faster for him.” People were seized by that moral fatigue and satiety with life, which continued throughout the empire and which often turned into mortal apathy or unaccountable despair. Such a bleak moral mood of the dominant tribe was the inevitable result of the new circumstances into which it was thrown by fate. In the old days the Roman believed in himself, in his gods, in his institutions, and most of all in his state. It was for him theatrum satis magnum (a sufficiently great spectacle), his banner, his law, his truth. He was fair, although in a harsh, unforgiving way. But now the world has grown wider. And what was sufficient for virtue in former times has become insufficient for virtue now. The faith of the region, the religion of the tribe, has become too narrow for the world; it necessarily fell and left the rulers of the earth with strong hands and empty hearts, skeptics of the truth and therefore falling away from the righteousness of the law. That this was the state of affairs already during the reign of Tiberius is recognized by historians. And it is clear that it was very unfavorable for the assimilation of the principles of a higher moral and social order introduced by Christianity. It would be rather unfair and cruel to require Pilate, or Pliny, or any Roman dignitary to renounce the higher order of morality approved by his conscience, simply because his state believed in the lower. But it would be even more cruel to demand that such a dignitary renounce this higher morality or religion after he and his state have ceased to believe in their lower race. And the greatest misfortune under such circumstances would be for the judge to be obliged to institute a systematic persecution of convictions known to be the highest, simply in order to nip in the bud any rebellion against the legal profession of faith, which he and all people began to doubt. Probably nothing arouses such disgust in the human spirit as a state that initiates persecution for a faith that it itself has already begun to lose. And, however, such phenomena most likely could and did happen at this time. When examining the question of “whether Pilate was right when he crucified Christ,” we will exclude all the circumstances that aggravate his guilt in the present case. Suppose that Pilate and the Romans of his time still believed in the ancient religion of Rome, that Jesus was by birth a subject of that city, and that the law of that city required the persecution of all religious beliefs hostile to his ancient faith. What, in such circumstances, was “the duty of a man in the position of Pilate”? We answer that he was obliged (having first taken measures to preserve the peace of his province) to renounce obedience to the law and resign his official position, rather than violate the principle of conscience, which has a deeper basis than the social superstructures made by the state. But this brings us to the final question of what the law of Rome required in a case like the trial of Jesus Christ. The limits of the treatise force us to give only one answer to this question and not indicate sources. It is known that the policy of Rome as a conquering power in relation to the religions of the conquered states was a policy of tolerance. But what it should mean is little more than that the existing religions were tolerated in the places of their domination. From the fact that the worship of Serapis or Isis was tolerated on the Nile in the same way as monotheistic worship in Judea, it does not in the least follow that either of them was a permitted religion (religio licita) on the banks of the Tiber. Even if such a religion were allowed on the Tiber, exclusive devotion to it was tolerated only among the natives of the country from which it originated, and was never permitted to Roman citizens. For all of them throughout the entire world, the ancient Roman religion was obligatory, and for the rest of the peoples, the religion of the Tiber was, although optional, still dominant. The concessions made to the regions in relation to their religions were, in the strict sense, concessions and not concordats. According to this, such a concession was limited by the rule: cujus regio, ejus religio (whose country is his religion). A local cult outside the country or province where it dominated had no rights to publicity or to acquiring new followers and was doomed to a passive and private existence. These general remarks explain some of the differences in the attitude of Rome towards the Jewish and Christian faiths. The ancient Jewish religion had the paradoxical property that, on the one hand, it was a national or local religion, and on the other, it claimed the right to be an exclusively true religion. The combination of these two qualities explains the fact that the Romans with full conviction attributed to her hostility towards the human race. This misunderstanding was naturally brought upon itself by a faith which recognized as false the beliefs of all other people, but did not call upon them to share in its gifts. But the very lack of offensiveness in Judaism saved it from clashes. When Christianity appeared, Rome had to deal with a completely different task. Christianity not only claimed the right to exclusive truth, but also grew against any limitation of itself to any limits. In its essence it was offensive, looking for followers everywhere; it demanded that all people accept it—Romans and Greeks, barbarians and Jews. What was the result? In essence, the Romans treated Christianity as a crime, but acted in fits and starts, inconsistently. It was persecuted generally as a form of godlessness. Such random persecution was not based on any peculiarities in the nature of Christianity and was not aroused by any strong aversion to it as a form of worship or faith. Christianity was persecuted in general as a form of godlessness or opposition to dominant religious institutions. And opposition to it on this basis was prescribed and carried out by some of the greatest and wisest and even, in a certain sense, the most tolerant emperors. Trajan and the Antonines were wise and generous monarchs. There was not much in Christianity that could repel; on the contrary, there was much in it that could attract such people. They were not superstitious, and the people around them were generally skeptics. They did not believe in absolute or universal truth in the subjects of religion; but they believed in the supreme power over the world and in the world primacy of the Roman state. As a result of this, while they patronized in Egypt, Palestine and Italy all permitted religions (religiones licitae), which were capable of living in peace with each other and not making claims to universal dominion, at the same time they strained all the power of the state against one religion, which said that people are born into the world to testify to the truth, and that everyone who is from the truth listens to the voice of Christ. 132 There is no way to explain this history except by recognizing that the fundamental law of Rome gave the state the right, on the one hand, to approve and allow, and on the other, to suppress and prohibit the expression of new religious beliefs, the public existence of a new faith. And this right was recognized as an essential part of majestatis, or the supreme power of the state. This was the case in the days of Tiberius and during the Domitian legal terror (terreur juridique). Pilate, as Tiberius's viceroy, seems to have been convinced that Jesus' claim to be "Christ the King" did not imply a claim to temporary sovereignty. The Defendant told him directly and definitely that His kingdom was not of this world. 133 But this assurance at least meant that His kingdom would be the religion that He undertook to found. It meant more. Religion, which is presented in the form of a kingdom with a king and his “not striving” servants 134 for Him, no matter how little it is “of this world,” has to be not only a religion, but also a church. A universal religion, which requires, first of all, personal faith, but directly adds to it the obligation to profess and spread this faith, already constitutes (even according to the Protestant concept) a church, i.e., a union of faith. The defense of Jesus has already highlighted this point with the same force with which His disciples later pointed it out in the first centuries of Christianity. It was pointed at, or at least constantly kept in mind, by the persecutors of Christians, accusing the latter of treason. Renan perhaps went too far when he argued that the Roman laws against unlawful unions or partnerships were the unfortunate root of all persecution. 135 He went even further when he tried to prove that these laws were the only instrument by which these persecutions were instituted and legally justified. In fact, they were more branches than roots. There is no doubt that the laws that determined the activities of communities (collegia) and suppressed all unauthorized communities, from their very origins had a close connection with the majesty (majestas) of the state and, in particular, with its right to establish and maintain religion. These two laws were closely connected both in theory and in practice. The desire of Jesus to found only a universal religion could, no doubt, come into practical conflict with the said law of Rome on communities. Но Его стремление основать эту религию в виде царства, хотя и не от мира сего, – основать «союз в государстве, находящийся вне государства», как выражается Ренан, являлось по своему существу несовместимым с основной идеей закона о сообществах. In a word, Christianity was incompatible with Roman law, and not only because its content was different from the content of the ancient religion of Rome, but also because Christianity’s demand that it be accepted and publicly professed by all people brought it into conflict with the unlimited and not tolerant of any contradiction supreme power of the Roman state. At these very points, this law came into conflict with the Founder of Christianity. It does not, of course, follow from this that Pilate, as the executor of Roman law (assuming that he understood the existence of this religious conflict in the same way as he understood the non-existence of any civil conspiracy here), was obliged to condemn Jesus. The highest official, as Trajan explains in his famous letter to the ruler of Bithynia, was obliged to use his own judgment when dealing with people who violated the law on religion. Pilate apparently sincerely believed that Jesus was both right and not dangerous; but, believing this, he sinned by abandoning his first sentence and betraying innocent blood. But when he finally sent Him to the cross, he did so on the basis that Jesus had declared himself King, and on the original charge that Christ had acted against the majesty of the Roman people (adversus majestatem populi romani). Whatever the Roman judge may have thought, the statement made by Christ of His right was inconsistent with the privileges of the state of which Pilate was the representative. So, an examination of this most famous of all court cases from a purely legal and purely formal point of view leads to such conclusions. There were two proceedings in this case, and both of them were conducted with some respect for the forms prescribed by the two most famous jurisprudence of the world. In both courts the judges were unjust and the trial was unconscionable; but in both the external formal procedure was followed, and the result was the same. Jesus Christ was convicted on double charges of treason. He died because before a religious council he proclaimed himself the Son of God and the Messiah of Israel, and before the world - secular court - he proclaimed himself Christ the King. Lopukhin Alexander Pavlovich was born on October 1, 1852 in the family of a priest in the village of Mityakino, Saratov province. He graduated from the Saratov Seminary, in 1874 he entered the St. Petersburg Theological Academy, which he graduated in 1877. While still a student at the academy, he took an active part in academic journals and published a large work in “Christian Reading” - “Old Testament Prophets.” In July 1879, he was appointed psalm-reader to the Russian Orthodox Church in New York. He published several articles in the local Oriental Magazine in which he introduced Americans to Russian church and religious life; He sent articles and correspondence to the Church Bulletin magazine on various aspects of the church and spiritual life of the local church. From America he came to Russia in 1882 to defend his master’s thesis on “Roman Catholicism in North America.” Since 1883 he taught a course in comparative theology at the St. Petersburg Theological Academy, and since 1885 he headed the department of ancient general civil history. From the very beginning of his career, A.P. Lopukhin has been actively involved in literary activities, which has earned him recognition and respect among theologians and lovers of spiritual reading and enlightenment. On his initiative, the works of St. John Chrysostom were translated; the first six volumes of the translation were published under the editorship of Lopukhin (the 10th volume was published in the year of his death). Possessing a rare and subtle knowledge of languages, among the mass of theological works of Western authors, he unmistakably identified those that met the needs of Russian spiritual and social life. He is a translator of Farrar’s works, compiler of “Biblical History...”, editor of a number of academic journals: from 1892 to 1902 Lopukhin edited “Christian Reading” and “Church Bulletin”, and in 1899 he took over the publishing of the magazine “Strannik”, as an appendix to which is given the “Orthodox Theological Encyclopedia, or Theological encyclopedic dictionary" (volumes I–V). Lopukhin included many articles in the first edition of the Brockhaus and Efron Dictionary. At the same time, he sought to popularize theological science, which, undoubtedly, is his merit to Russian society and the Orthodox Church. His special passion is the issue of uniting Christian churches; Every movement towards this gave rise to hope in him that the time would come when the branched branches of the one Church of Christ would unite. Alexander Pavlovich Lopukhin died on August 22, 1904. Quotations in this article are made from the Surenguzi edition of the Mishnah (Amsterdam, 1672), and especially from the chapter or treatise "De Synedriis", the publisher's Latin translation has only in some cases been verified with the original. The Mishnah (De Synedrns, X, 3) states the general rule: “gravitus peccatur circa verba scribarum, quam verba Iegis” (the sin against the words of the interpreters is greater than the sin against the words of the law). Or, in the paraphrase of the newest enthusiastic translator: “whoever teaches against the Pentateuch is not condemned to death, because all people know the Bible, but whoever teaches against the teachers is condemned.” Rabbinovich. Legislation criminelle du Talmud. Paris. Mishna, Capita Patrum, Ι,1. The same priority was given to the law in the main saying of their great representative, Simon the Righteous: “the world stands on three things - on the law, worship of God and mercy.” Cap. Patrum, I, 2. Salvador, Inst. de Moise, I, 365. x Mishna, Tractate Makhoth. Mishna, De Synedriis, VI, 5. Salvador, Histoire des institutions de Moise. 1822. Here quoted is the 3rd edition, in 2 volumes (Michel Lévy Frères, Paris). Valery Grat, Pilatov's predecessor. See Josephus Antiq XVIII, 2.1 and XX, 9, 1. “Like flies on a wound,” said Emperor Tiberius about the speed with which high priests replaced each other in Jerusalem during his reign. This depends partly on what the word ἀπέστειλεν means in John, John 18:24: “sent” or “sent.” Dupin argues that Anna was not a member of the court and that his intervention undoubtedly only increased the irregularity of the interrogation of the accused. “The principle, constantly held in the Jewish scriptures, requires two conditions: openness and freedom. Here the accused was not subjected to secret interrogations, during which an innocent person could, in confusion, give deadly weapons against himself.” Salvador, Inst. I, 366. Mishna, Pirke Avoth, IV, 8. These words are reminiscent of the very curious measure prescribed by the Mishnah regarding the Mesith, or private “seducer,” i.e. laicus seducens laicum (De Synedriis, XII, 10) - an expression translated in the Gospel with the words: corrupts the people (Luke 23:2). In the case of such a person who privately said: “let’s follow the other gods,” the rule was canceled - not to set a trap for the accused. The person seduced could pretend to agree with the seducer, and thus give hidden witnesses the opportunity to overhear Mesith and testify against him. As for the question of when this happened, the four evangelists report information that is not entirely clear and definite. Matthew and Mark, omitting the private interrogation, which we have already discussed, separately speak of a two-fold investigation at night: one, when the testimony of witnesses was heard, and the other, when an attempt was made to obtain a confession from the accused; but both took place in the presence of the high priest, scribes and elders, to whom Mark adds all the high priests (Mark 14:53). Their narratives give reason to believe that the first part of this investigation was carried out almost immediately after the Prisoner was brought from the Mount of Olives. In any case, according to their narrative, it took place at night, while in the morning there followed a second and special “meeting” of a similar, apparently larger and more authoritative assembly. Binay (in De Morte Christi) believes that the secondary trial took place in the morning. But the view (recently repeated by Dr. Farrar) that Luke relates an event different from that which the first two Gospels relate in almost the same words can hardly be accepted. On the other hand, John talks about the interrogation by the high priest, the transfer from Annas to Caiaphas and the transfer in the morning to Pilate, but does not hint at any analysis of the case in the council. These two statements of the matter, although they do not contradict one another, seem at first glance to be mutually incompatible; Luke's narrative helps us resolve this difficulty. He omits the first part of the mentioned investigation - the examination of witnesses, but narrates the confession and condemnation that took place in that meeting of the council, which took place when the day came (Luke 22:66), and after which the whole multitude of them rose up and led him to Pilate (Luke 23:1). By comparing all these statements of the case, it will not be difficult for us to establish the historical order of events. The accused was first brought to Annas, and from him sent to Caiaphas and interrogated by one of these high priests. Around this early hour, Peter's denial probably occurred, which all the evangelists talk about. That the full council did not meet at night is certain; that a certain number of its members were present at Caiaphas that night is equally clear. Assuming that the final formal meeting of the council took place at its usual morning time, it is quite possible that the astonishing scene of exorcism, confession and judgment took place before it. But it is more consistent with the evidence to admit that it happened earlier, when a significant number of members had already gathered, quite sufficient for the name of the council to be attached to it, in a loose sense. And in any case it is certain that the earlier events - the invitation and examination of witnesses and the discussion of their testimony - must have occupied some time during the night. Mishna, De Synedriis, IV, 1. Thus, in our present study we avoid the extremely difficult question: Friday fell on the 14th or 15th of Nisan and on what day of this week did they eat the Passover lamb. If Friday fell on the 15th, then it was Easter or a holiday when the law completely prohibited judging. – Mishna, Moed Katon, V, 2. Mishna, De Synedriis, V, 5 and VI, 1. Beatus judex qui fermentat judicum suum: Blessed is the judge who allows his judgment to ferment.” Gemara on the Mishnah, De Synedriis, p. 1. “Proferre diem mortis damnati nefas est (it is criminal to hasten the day of death of a condemned person).” Mishna, De Synednis, IV, 1. See 8th note in Cocceus. But this too is prohibited elsewhere, in the treatise Nidah, and jurists have raised questions about the relative authority of these two injunctions. He claims that the trial and condemnation took place in the full assembly of the Sanhedrin, and adds: “The council met again in the morning on the next or third day, as required by law, in order to confirm or revoke the decision.” This statement is pure fiction. Mishna, De Synedriis, IV, 5. “Intro vocatis terrorem incutiunt restibus (by calling witnesses, they instill fear in them).” II, 6. Ibid. V, 3, 4. See also Lightfoot's, Horae Hebraicae, Mark 14:56. Although Mark, saying that their testimonies were ρύχισαι[?] (14:56 – πολλοὶ γὰρ ἐψευδομαρτύρουν κατ᾿ αὐτοῦ καὶ ἴσαι αἱ μαρτυρίαι οὐκ ἦσαν, 14:59 – καὶ οὐδὲ οὕτως ἴση ἦν ἡ μαρτυρία αὐτῶν), rather means that they were “insufficient” rather than “disagreeing.” Salvador, Institutions, I, 373. A distinction was made between false witnesses, as well as between true witnesses, depending on whether they lied intentionally or unintentionally. See Lightfoot on the Talmudic and technical meaning of false witness. Hor. Herb., Matthew 25:60. See also Joseph's account of the trial of Zechariah, son of Baruf. De bello Judaico, IV. 5. 4. The Hebrew words for the concept of blasphemy also include an indication of insult or slander by words. John 7:25, 30, 45; 8:40; 9:22; 11:47, 57; Matthew 21:23, 46; Luke 20:20; Matthew 26:3ff. Which of these meanings had the unknown Hebrew word translated in Greek ιση μαρτυρια - equal testimony - it is difficult to say affirmatively. There appears to have been no lawyer for the defense, known as the Baal-rib, or Dominus litis (lord of litigation). Friedlieb, Archaelog. 87. The scribes and Pharisees who judged the Savior wore (Matthew 23:5) special bandages on their foreheads and hands with words from the law, called repositories (phylacteries). “They read their treasures,” writes the Talmud (Berachoth, I, 2), “from dawn until the third hour,” which was the last time for the meeting of the small Sanhedrin. While the great Sanhedrin could begin meetings only “after the daily morning sacrifice” (Maimonides on chapter De Synedriis III), the Evangelist Luke points to dawn as the time when they actually “brought the Savior into the Sanhedrin” (Luke 22:66) for judgment. The Mishnah (De Synedriis, I, 6) directly says that according to the law the number of members of the Sanhedrin was twenty-three. Tribus, pseudo-prophetes, sacerdos magnus, non nisi a septuaginta et unius judicum consessu judicantur. Mishna, De Synedriis, I, 5. Matthew 26:63, Mark 14:61 and 62. The spell, as is self-evident, was tantamount to swearing the accused and, it seems, was in fact the usual way for witnesses to take the oath. See Selden's chapter "De Juramentis" in his book on the Sanhedrin and other treatises on the same subject in Ugolino's "Thesaurus" vol. XXVI. Mishna, De Synedriis, VI. 2 (note). Cocceus writes: “Ita tenent magistri, ne minem ex proprio confessione aut prophetae vaticinio esse neci dandum (the teachers command that no one should be put to death on the basis of his confession or a prophet on the basis of his prophecy).” And even Salvador says: “Our law never condemns the accused on the basis of his own consciousness alone.” The following restrictive rule of the Mishnah applies to blasphemy in this proper sense: “nemo tenetur blasphemus, nisi expressit nomen - no one can be considered a blasphemer if he has not mentioned the name (of Jehovah).” De Synedriis, VII, 5. The arrival of the procurator or tetrarch of Galilee on the Easter holiday raises the question of which of them occupied this new and more brilliant building, especially since there was rivalry and hostility between Pilate and the tetrarch. The conversation described is found only in the Gospel of John; and it is remarkable that this Gospel, which, as most people think, appeared later than others, preserves words that not only contain the strongest internal sign of reliability, but have also received, thanks to the latest research, the fullest historical value. "Crimen adversus populum romanum vel adversus securitatem ejus (Crime against the Roman people or against their security)." Ulpian, Dig. XLVIII, 4, 1. The origin of the name is clear. Cicero defines majestas (majesty) as "magnitudo populi romani (the whole extent, the entirety of the Roman people)", and the full name of the crime is expressed as follows: "crimen laesae aut imminutae majestatis (criminal insult or diminution of majesty)." It is very accurately conveyed by our words “high treason.” Matthew 27:11; Mark 15:2; Luke 23:3; John 18:33. John 18:38; Matthew 27:24; Luke 23:14. There is, however, reason to think that He was present at the accusation; the first two evangelists testify that either then or later His silence aroused the surprise of the ruler, who said: Do you not hear how many testify against you (Matthew 27:13; Mark 15:4)? In the saying “My kingdom is not of this world,” the word κόσμος (world), and not αἰών (age), is used to designate “world.” John 18:36. The apocryphal "Acts of Pilate", reporting this conversation with remarkable accuracy, adds to it several expressions which, in fact, simplifying the previous sayings, indicate the particular meaning of the words of Jesus in which they could appear to the mind of the ruler. “Pilate said to Him: What is truth? – Jesus said: truth is from heaven. Pilate said: is that why there is no truth on earth? Jesus said to Pilate: Believe that the truth exists on earth among those who, when they have the power of judgment, are governed by the truth and judge righteously.” Matthew 27:24; Mark 15:9, 10; Luke 23:14; John 18:38. Matthew 27:19. Here a curious historical question arises as to whether the wives of rulers at this time were allowed to accompany their husbands in the provinces, and this question is resolved by criticism in favor of the presence of Claudius Procula in Jerusalem. John 19:11. Some writers, who argued that Pilate alone had the right to judge in this case and that the legal proceedings of the Sanhedrin were an abuse, referred to this text, since it contains in its first half a recognition of the exclusive right of the Roman court and in the last - an accusation of Caiaphas in the illegality of his course of action, as well as in treason. This opinion, based on nothing, seems absurd under the circumstances. "Judex Judicantium (Judge of those who judge)." Loesius. “Addito majestatis crimine, quod tum omnium accusationum complementum erat (adding the charge of crime against the majesty, which was then the completion of all charges).” Tacitus. Annales. III, 39. “Was Pilate right when he crucified Christ? “I answer this that Pilate’s main duty was: to take care of the preservation of peace in Palestine, to form the best possible concept of the means needed for this purpose, and to act in accordance with this concept when it was drawn up. He was therefore right if he believed in good faith and on reasonable grounds that his course of action was necessary for the preservation of tranquility in Palestine, and he was right to the extent that he was sure of this.” – Liberty, Equality, Fraternity. By James Fitzjames Stephen, Q. C. P. 87. Matthew 27:18; Mark 15:10; Luke 23:4,14, 22; John 19:4, 6. The true character of Pilate is extremely skillfully portrayed by the English writer Ellicott in the following expressions: “the perfect and complete type of the secular Roman of later times: strict, but not merciless; cunning and knowledgeable of the world, quick and active, arrogantly fair and, however, as the ancient Christian writers correctly noted, a man with his own mind and therefore cowardly; capable of understanding what is just, but without the moral strength to follow it.” - Historical Lectures, 6th Ed., 350. Compare with Philo's letter on the "Messengers." Pilate’s English lawyer cites the following example to explain his view: “Suppose,” writes the defender of the Roman procurator, “that some great religious reformer, laying claim to the dignity of a Guru (Savior) or Imam, in whose coming many Mohammedans reverently believe, appeared in the Punjab or in the northwestern provinces of India. Suppose there were sufficient reason to think (and there is nothing incredible in this) that whatever the personal intentions of the preacher, his preaching would lead to the disturbance of public peace and the incitement of rebellion and rebellion; and let us suppose further (though such a supposition is hardly possible even in the imagination) that the British dignitary, instead of taking the necessary measures and executing the orders received by him for the protection of the British power, began to speculate whether he should become a disciple of this Guru or Imam. What course of action would be taken in relation to the dignitary? He would have been immediately dismissed with dishonor from the service he had disgraced; and if he had acted according to his convictions, and preferred his religion to his queen and country, he would have been hanged as a rebel and a traitor.” Liberty, Equality, Fraternity; r. 94. – The case, we note, is far from parallel! The true parallel would be as follows: suppose that this Guru or Imam was betrayed by his co-religionists to a British dignitary on the charge of having founded a national system hostile to English rule and refusing to pay the English tax; that the dignitary, upon personal examination of the case, was convinced of the innocence of this man and the falsity of the accusation brought against him, that, in order to calm some priests, he proposed to subject to a not particularly severe punishment the one in whom he did not find any guilt; that under strong pressure to act contrary to his convictions, he hesitated for half a day; and that, finally, when he was threatened with a complaint against him to his superiors in the service - which could deprive him of his place or harm his promotion - he ordered his prisoner to be subjected to torture or death. Who would call such behavior of a dignitary fair and not cruel? “But let’s assume that this matter had a less vile appearance.” Suppose that a British dignitary, for his own reasons, found himself forced to put to death a native preacher, whose “personal intentions” were not in the least hostile to British rule or rebellious, was found forced both because this preaching could in fact turn out to be, or even had already begun to turn out to be, dangerous for English rule, and because such an example of severity would have a good effect. We assume the case most advantageous for Pilate's defense. If this matter had been carried out administratively, then perhaps only in England the few circles of followers of the theory of utility would not have called it unjustifiable cruelty. One hesitation like Pilatov’s, if the English governor had allowed himself to do so in a matter so clear to himself, would have been a disgrace for him in the eyes of all honest people. This theory is in some respects identical with the ultramontane one, and not in the one respect that both suppress personal conscience under the yoke of authority. “It seems to me,” says our author, “that the ultramontane view of the relationship between church and state is the only correct view (p. 109), because, as he explains, “the ultramontanes correctly assert that of the two powers, one should be supreme, and the other should be subordinate to it, and that there is no real boundary between the spiritual and the temporal in human life.” “The only thing,” writes Renan, “on which the Roman Empire has declared war in the matter of religion, is theocracy. The guiding principle of the empire was the principle of a secular state; it did not allow any religion to have any civil or political consequences; it did not allow any union in the state that was not subordinate to the state. This last point is of significant importance; he, speaking the truth, was the root cause of all persecution. The law on communities of much more religious intolerance was the fatal cause of violence that disgraced the reigns of the best Roman rulers.” Renan, Les Apotres, r. 351. You might be interested in: