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The Face of Jesus
ic ^ | August 6, 2009 | Janine Langan

Posted on 08/09/2009 2:10:48 PM PDT by NYer

We know very little about Christian imaging before the fourth century. Persecutions and other upheavals have erased all but traces, making the tantalizing remnant all the more fascinating. Anyone searching for images of Christ is struck by an astonishing fact: There are hardly any direct representations of him. Those one finds are bare sketches, focused not on Christ himself, but on the miracle he is performing, or the wonder of the crowd watching.
 
Catacomb paintings do not depict Christ personally, but the life he brings, and the joy of initiation into that life. They are about the miraculous transformation of hassled human beings into the "little fishes" who, plunged into the waters of baptism and feeding on the big fish in the eucharistic feast, become ready to participate in eternal peace. Like the Gospels and the liturgy, catacomb paintings tell the good news about Christ: God still saves (the Hebrew meaning of the name Jesus) as he did of old. More wondrous yet, God now saves, through wondrous signs, all who profess his name.
 
For this reason, to walk through the catacombs is to experience a paradox: In total darkness, in the bowels of the earth, among thousands of graves, one need only enter a cubiculum to be suddenly transported into a paradisiac bower full of fruits, leaves, and feasting birds. Images of salvation echo across the domed roof and from wall to wall, alluding to the wonders God has wrought for those he has loved. Moses strikes the rock, providing refreshment for his thirsty people; Daniel is kept safe among the lions; Noah finds rest in the ark, as the dove returns; three children exult in the midst of the furnace's flames; and, most common of all, Jonah is spewed to shore by the whale, to "rest refreshed" under the bowery shade of his gourd. Had Christ not said: "I will give you no sign except the sign of Jonah"?
 
All the catacomb paintings are signs that allude to a single experience: Christ's divine power bringing mankind from this world to the next, from sickness to health, from death to eternal life. We get glimpses of it in succinct allusions to the miracles described in the New Testament: the paralytic picking up his bed; the hemorrhaging woman healed; the resurrection of Lazarus. While such scenes sketch Christ in action, these events, like the Old Testament types, are themselves but signs of the real feat planned by God since time immemorial, and wrought by his Son: the salvation of all mankind.
 
The pledge and proof of Christ's success, encountered already by Christians in the present life, is the eucharistic meal, foretaste of the eternal banquet. Often indistinguishable from one another as depictions, the Eucharist, Cana, the multiplication of the loaves, the last supper, and that heavenly banquet often fill the arcosolia -- half-moons above the sarcophagi -- which provide ideal spaces for focal scenes. Indeed, the sacraments of initiation are the key to the harmony of all the images scattered on the walls, which orchestrate the liturgical thanksgiving.
 
This explains why the most common, the most central, and the most detailed image of Christ to be found in the catacombs is not a portrait, but a metaphor for the peace his presence brings: Christ's own image of the Good Shepherd. Variations on this theme abound, but in every case the catacomb shepherd carries a single lost animal on his shoulders, often not a lamb but a goat. The image stresses the universality of the grace offered, the depth of sin from which it saves, and the personal nature of that salvation. Around him wax paradisiac trees, as he holds back wolves, wild pigs, and donkeys that menace the fold. Often he carries a pail of milk, symbolizing the Eucharist as the Church's milk, the nourishing word given her, the body of Christ, the food of babes. As St. Peter says, "Desire the milk of the word, that you may grow by it to salvation."
 
This faith in the triumph of the Resurrection allows the catacomb artists to use pagan myths in their depiction of Christ, for they, too, express the fundamental human thirst for a joy stronger than death. The salvation celebrated on the catacomb walls is what all humanity, since time immemorial, has been waiting for. History, the early fathers of the Church pointed out, is a universal preparation for Christ's coming. Hercules harrowing hell, Odysseus conquering the sirens' seduction, and, above all, the shepherd Orpheus are powerful types of Christ. St. Clement of Alexandria explains why:
 
See the power of his new song: out of stones, it makes men; out of wild beasts, also men. Those who were dead, who had no part in real life, when they heard this song, came alive. This descendant of David, who lived before David, the Logos of God, left behind lyre and zyther, soulless instruments, to accord to himself, through the Spirit, the whole world, gathered up in man. He uses this as a many-voiced instrument. What does he want with this instrument, the Word of God, the Lord, with his new song? He wants to open the eyes of the blind, the ears of the deaf.
 
 
We may be shocked by the failure of early Christians to image the Christ they worshipped. Indeed, they do not attempt to depict the "Christ of history" which would fascinate the nineteenth century, nor do they attempt to sketch a relevant existential Christ, as model for modern man. Against attacks on this lack of representation, the Christian's answer is simple and unadorned: We ourselves are the best image we can propose. As Minucius Felix's Octavius argues with his pagan challenger: "Do you think that we wish to conceal the objects of our worship, because we have neither temples nor altars? By what image am I to represent God, since, rightly considered, man himself is the image of God?"
 
And indeed, the most common of catacomb images is the orans, the praying figure. Arms raised in cruciform position, these are Christians in prayer, filled with the Spirit sent by Christ, exulting in their salvation. The author of the Passion of Perpetua and Felicitas puts it powerfully: God's power does not cease manifesting itself with the Old Testament. It is seen today better than ever, scattered on all mankind, as the ancient promise is fulfilled: "Your women and children will prophesy." Christ is visible in the martyrs, his witnesses, for their heroism does not manifest their own strength, but Christ in them. Felicitas says it all, as she answers her companions, worried that a woman who could not bear childbirth without screaming would break down under torture: "Then it will not be me, but Christ who will suffer."
 
The "peace of the Church" brought by Constantine in the fourth century triggered a great flurry of experimentation with Christ imaging, sparking wonderful new expressions of his Incarnation. Perhaps the most moving image-and the image most forgotten today-is that of Christ as puer aeternus, eternal youth, conquering the aging world, as shown on the splendid sarcophagus of Junius Bassus. That wonderful adolescent, with his half-opened budding lips and curly hair, naively triumphant, is offering with both hands the new law of eternal life: young Christianity's affirmation that the good news is news indeed, and ever new. The image challenges us to remember that Christianity is a total revolution in history; that in Christ we are born again to eternal youth ourselves, no longer bound by the eternal cycles of fate that held the pagan world in an iron grip. Never will the grace, the charm of God's condescending to us in Christ find more perfect expression. Beyond any reflection of a cultural context, this image portrays the eternal youth of our God.
 
The apse of San Pudenziana then proposes an image of Christ shaped by the Church's experience of power and official status, in a style that will become ever more common: the majestas Domini, or majesty of the Lord. Mature, monumental, noble, and grave, this Christ is a philosopher-king, enthroned at the heart of the cosmopolis, the real Eternal City, teaching the way to wisdom and happiness. His disciples surround him and listen: Those raised under the Jewish law are behind Peter, apostle to the Jews; those prepared for the Gospel by the pagan search for the good life are behind Paul, apostle to the gentiles. Christ's victory on the Cross is heralded to the corners of the earth by the four living ones, symbols of the Gospels. This philosopher-king is "bringing about the universal and catholic congregation of the human race," as St. Augustine put it.
 
The majestic Lord, fixed at the center of the cosmos and proclaimed to the edge of existence, is an image from which modern man -- who relegates Christ to the private lives of various small, sectarian communities -- can learn much. But never again did Christians express, with the mysterious simplicity of the earliest Christian art, such youthful exultation in our salvation, in Christ who delivered us from death, in the loveliness and generosity of our God made man.


TOPICS: Catholic; History; Religion & Culture
KEYWORDS: catacombs; catholic
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Janine Langan was a professor of art history and the founder of the Christianity and Culture program at the University of Toronto.
1 posted on 08/09/2009 2:10:48 PM PDT by NYer
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To: NYer

Contrary to popular belief, one thing is for certain, he wouldn’t have had blue eyes or long hair.


2 posted on 08/09/2009 2:11:59 PM PDT by kingpins10
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To: NYer

probably something to do with all that “graven image” ban


3 posted on 08/09/2009 2:12:30 PM PDT by GeronL (Guilty of the crime of deviationism.http://tyrannysentinel.blogspot.com)
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To: Salvation; narses; SMEDLEYBUTLER; redhead; Notwithstanding; nickcarraway; Romulus; ...

The majestas Domini, or Majesty of the Lord

4 posted on 08/09/2009 2:13:19 PM PDT by NYer ("One Who Prays Is Not Afraid; One Who Prays Is Never Alone"- Benedict XVI)
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To: kingpins10

Not so....some Jews have blue eyes and blonde or red hair.
Long hair more likely as he wandered and probably didn’t carry Billy Mays shaving/cutting shears.


5 posted on 08/09/2009 2:17:45 PM PDT by Recovering Ex-hippie (Pray for Israel! And Georgia ! And the Iranian people! and Honduras!)
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To: GeronL

why would they have time for paintings or the money..moreover usually persecuted people don’t send out “wanted” posters of themselves.


6 posted on 08/09/2009 2:18:45 PM PDT by Recovering Ex-hippie (Pray for Israel! And Georgia ! And the Iranian people! and Honduras!)
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To: Recovering Ex-hippie

“Long hair is a shame to a man”


7 posted on 08/09/2009 2:23:21 PM PDT by kingpins10
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To: NYer

I tried to lighten the image, but it won’t post. Hmmmm.


8 posted on 08/09/2009 2:30:04 PM PDT by Salvation (With God all things are possible.)
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To: Salvation
The Face of Jesus

Devotion to the Holy Face [of Jesus]

9 posted on 08/09/2009 2:34:35 PM PDT by Salvation (With God all things are possible.)
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To: kingpins10; Kolokotronis; Swordmaker
Contrary to popular belief, one thing is for certain, he wouldn’t have had blue eyes or long hair.

Popular belief? Jesus was born, died and resurrected in the Middle East. The most compelling image we have of Him is from St. Catherine's Monastery in Egypt.


Christ Pantocrator

Even more interesting is that in 544 AD, a cloth bearing an image of Jesus was discovered hidden above a gate in Edessa's city walls. Six years later, the above icon was produced at St. Catherine's Monastery in the Sinai. There are startling similarities between the icon and the image we see on the Shroud of Turin.


Alignment of the Shroud Face and the icon

Read more

10 posted on 08/09/2009 2:41:28 PM PDT by NYer ("One Who Prays Is Not Afraid; One Who Prays Is Never Alone"- Benedict XVI)
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To: NYer

As I said, go by what the Bible says, not what an “image” tells you.

He was Jewish. He would’ve had short hair (according to the Bible). He would’ve had dark eyes.

End of discussion.


11 posted on 08/09/2009 2:46:09 PM PDT by kingpins10
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To: NYer

There is one representation of His face. It is on the Shroud. It is not terribly clear but it is what He left us with.


12 posted on 08/09/2009 2:55:14 PM PDT by arthurus ("If you don't believe in shooting abortionists, don't shoot an abortionist." -Ann C.)
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To: kingpins10; NYer
Contrary to popular belief, one thing is for certain, he wouldn’t have had blue eyes or long hair.

You are probably right about the blue eyes, although Judas Iscariot was likely red haired (that's what Iscariot means) and blue or green eyes are linked to the red hair genes, so it is possible.

However, if Jesus were an Essene, which is possible as many of his teachings were parallel to the teachings of the Essenes, and there is evidence that he spent time with the Essenes in the Wilderness, his hair would have been long. Also devout Jews may have been following the old testament prohibition of not cutting the hair, ala Samson. Even modern Orthodox Jewish sects give recognition to this prohibition by not cutting their forelocks and growing beards. Also, long hair with a queue was not an uncommon 1st Century Jewish male attribute. Contemporaneous Roman and Egyptian depictions of semitic people show them both with long and short hair.

The Paulian comment about long hair on men being shameful is the Biblical only reference to male hair being long as something to be avoided may be related to Paul's long contact with Greek culture, which did consider long hair to be shameful on men. Paul never met or saw Jesus in the body... so may have been totally clueless as to Jesus' living appearance and hair style.

13 posted on 08/09/2009 3:04:32 PM PDT by Swordmaker (remember, the proper pronunciation of IE is "AAAAIIIIIEEEEEEE!)
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To: kingpins10

Not so in Samson’s time.


14 posted on 08/09/2009 3:07:49 PM PDT by 353FMG
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To: kingpins10
As I said, go by what the Bible says, not what an “image” tells you.

To which NT passage are you referring?

15 posted on 08/09/2009 3:09:28 PM PDT by NYer ( "One Who Prays Is Not Afraid; One Who Prays Is Never Alone"- Benedict XVI)
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To: NYer

Not sure why this is important but I think scripture described Jesus in the phrase “unremarkable” which makes sense considering his ministry. It is likely he looked like the people of Judea. Semite, olive skin, dark hair. All the rest is guess work and considering his purpose on earth, pointless.


16 posted on 08/09/2009 3:19:42 PM PDT by Patrick1 (I'm not calling in sick; I'm calling in gone!)
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To: NYer

Practically speaking, portrait artists probably only worked for the rich. However, such as they are, my thoughts are that He didn’t want us to focus on His appearance but on His message.


17 posted on 08/09/2009 3:45:12 PM PDT by skr (May God confound the enemy)
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To: kingpins10

Why wouldn’t he?


18 posted on 08/09/2009 3:48:30 PM PDT by I Hate Obama ("Life Is Like A Box of Chocolates, You Never Know What You're Gonna Get." -Forest Gump)
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To: NYer

Might not be real but I found it interesting anyway.

PILATE’S LETTER TO TIBERIUS CAESAR CONCERNING ARREST, TRIAL AND CRUCIFIXION OF JESUS

From the “Archko Volume” containing manuscripts in Constantinople and the records of the Senatorial docket taken from the library at Rome translated by Drs. Macintosh and Twyman of the Antiquerian Lodge, Genoa, Italy.

This has been checked and is in accord with the copy of the original lodged in a British Museum that has verified the accuracy of the transcription. It was verified in November 1935.

TO TIBERIUS CAESAR, EMPEROR OF ROME

Noble Sovereign, Greetings: The events of the last few days in my Province have been of such a character that I will give the details in full as they occurred, as I should not be surprised if, in the course of time, they may change the destiny of our nation, for it seems of late that all the gods have ceased to be propitious. I am almost ready to say, cursed be the day that I succeeded Vallerius Flaceus in the government of Judea; for since then my life has been one of continual uneasiness and distress.

On my arrival at Jerusalem I took possession of the Praetorium, and ordered a splendid feast to be prepared, to which I invited the Tetrarch of Galilee, with the high priest and his officers. At the appointed hour no guests appeared. This I considered an insult offered to my dignity, and the whole government, which I represent. A few days after the high priest deigned to pay me a visit, his deportment was grave and deceitful. He pretended that his religion forbade him and his attendants to sit at the table of the Romans, and eat and offer libations with them, but this was only a sanctimonious seeing, for his very countenance betrayed his hypocrisy. Although I thought it expedient to accept his excuse, from that moment I was convinced that the conquered had declared themselves the enemy of the conquerors; and I would warn the Romans to beware of the high priests of this country. They would betray their own mother to gain office and a luxurious living. It seems to me that, of conquered cities, Jerusalem is the most difficult to govern. So turbulent are the people that I live in momentary dread of an insurrection. I have not soldiers sufficient to suppress it. I had only one centurion and a hundred men at my command. I requested reinforcement from the Prefect of Syria, who informed me that he had scarcely troops sufficient to defend his own province. An insatiate thirst for conquest to extend our empire beyond the means of defending it, I fear, will be the cause of the final overthrow of our whole government. I lived secluded from the masses, for I do not know what those priests might influence the rabble to do; yet I endeavored to ascertain, as far as I could, the mind and standing of the people.

I WAS TOLD IT WAS JESUS

Among the various rumors that came to my ears there was one in particular that attracted my attention. A young man, it was said, had appeared in Galilee preaching with a noble unction a new law in the name of the God who had sent him. At first I was apprehensive that his design was to stir up the people against the Romans, but my fears were soon dispelled. Jesus of Nazareth spoke rather as a friend of the Romans than of the Jews. One day in passing by the place of Siloe, where there was a great concourse of people, I observed in the midst of the group a young man who was leaning against a tree, calmly addressing the multitude. I was told it was Jesus. This I could easily have suspected, so great was the difference between him and those listening to him. His golden-colored hair and beard gave to his appearance a celestial aspect. He appeared to be about thirty years of age. Never have I seen a sweeter or more serene countenance. What a contrast between him and his hearers, with their black beards and tawny complexions. Unwilling to interrupt him by my presence, I continued my walk, but signified to my secretary to join the group and listen. My secretary’s name is Manlius. He is the grandson of the chief of the conspirators who encamped in Eturia waiting for Cataline. Manlius had been for a long time an inhabitant of Judea, and is well acquainted with the Hebrew language. He was devoted to me, and worthy of my confidence. On entering the Praetorium I found Manlius, who related to me the words Jesus had pronounced at Siloe. Never have I read in the works of the philosophers anything that can compare to the maxims of Jesus. One of the rebellious Jews, so numerous in Jerusalem, having asked Jesus if it was lawful to give tribute to Caesar, he replied: “Render unto Caesar that things that belong to Caesar, and unto God the things that are God’s.”

I EXTENDED TO HIM MY PROTECTION

It was on account of the wisdom of his sayings that I granted so much liberty to the Nazarene; for it was in my power to have him arrested, and exiled to Pontus; but that would have been contrary to the justice which has always characterized the Roman Government in all its dealings with men; this man was neither seditious nor rebellious; I extended to him my protection, unknown perhaps to himself. He was at liberty to act, to speak, to assemble and address the people, and to choose disciples, unrestrained by a Praetorian andate. Should it ever happen (may the gods avert the omen!) should it ever happen, I say that the religion of our forefathers will be supplanted by the religion of Jesus, it will be this noble toleration that Rome shall owe her premature death, while I, miserable wretch, will have been the instrument of what the Jews call Providence, and we call destiny. This unlimited freedom granted to Jesus provoked the Jews — not the poor, but the rich and powerful. It is true Jesus was severe of the latter, and this was a political reason, in my opinion, for not restraining the liberty of the Nazarene. “Scribes and Pharisees” he would say to them, “you are a race of vipers; you resemble painted sepulchres; you appear well unto men, but you have death within you.” At other times he would sneer at the alms of the rich and proud, telling them that the mite of the poor was more precious in the sight of God. Complaints were daily made at the Praetorium against the insolence of Jesus. I was even informed that some misfortune would befall him; that it would not be the first time that Jerusalem had stoned those who called themselves prophets; an appeal would be made to Caesar. However, my conduct was approved by the Senate, and I was promised a reinforcement after the termination of the Parthian War.

Being too weak to suppress an insurrection, I resolved upon adopting a measure that promised to restore the tranquillity of the city without subjecting the Praetorium to humiliating concession. I wrote to Jesus requesting an interview with him at the Praetorium. He came. You know that in my veins flows the Spanish mixed with Roman blood as incapable of fear as it is of weak emotion. When the Nazarene made his appearance I was walking in my basilica, and my feet seemed fastened with an iron hand to the marble pavement, and I trembled in every limb as does a guilty culprit, though the Nazarene was as calm as innocence itself. When he came up to me he stopped, and by a signal sign he seemed to say to me, “I am here,” though he spoke not a word. For some time I contemplated with admiration and awe this extraordinary type of man — a type of man unknown to our numerous painters, who have given form and figure to all the gods and the heroes. There was nothing about him that was repelling in its character, yet I felt too awed and tremulous to approach him.

“Jesus,” said I unto him as last — and my tongue faltered — “Jesus of Nazareth, for the last three years I have granted you ample freedom of speech; nor do I regret it. Your words are those of a sage — I know not whether you have read Socrates of Plato, but this I know, there is in your discourses a majestic simplicity that elevates you far above those philosophers. The Emperor is informed of it, and I, his humble representative in this country, am glad of having allowed you this liberty of which you are so worthy. However, I must not conceal from you that your discourses have raised up against you powerful and inveterate enemies. Nor is this surprising. Socrates had his enemies, and he fell a victim to their hatred. Yours are double incensed — against you on account of your discourses being so severe upon their conduct; against me on account of the liberty I have afforded you. They even accuse me of being indirectly leagued with you for the purpose of depriving the Hebrews of the little civil power, which Rome has left them. My request — I do not say my order — is, that you be more circumspect and moderate in your discourses in the future, and more considerate of the, lest your arouse the pride of your enemies, and they raise against you the stupid populace, and compel me to employ the instruments of law.” The Nazarene calmly replied: “Prince of the earth, your words proceed not from true wisdom. Say to the torrent to stop in the midst of the mountain-gorge: it will uproot the trees of the valley. The torrent will answer you that it obeys the laws of nature and the Creator. God alone knows whither flows the waters of the torrent. Verily I say unto you, before the rose of Sharon blossoms the blood of the just shall be spilt.” “Your blood shall not be spilt,” said I, with deep emotion: “You are more precious in my estimation on account of your wisdom than all the turbulent and proud Pharisees who abuse the freedom granted them by the Romans. They conspire against Caesar, and convert his bounty into fear; impressing the unlearned that Caesar is a tyrant and seeks their ruin. Insolent wretches! They are not aware that the wolf of the Tiber sometimes clothes himself with the skin of the sheep to accomplish his wicked designs. I will protect you against them. My Praetorium shall be an asylum, sacred both day and night.”

“THAT WHICH IS WRITTEN IN THE BOOKS OF THE PROPHETS MUST BE
ACCOMPLISHED.”

Jesus carelessly shook his head, and said with a grave and divine smile: “When the day shall come there will be no asylums for the son of man, neither in the earth nor under the earth. The asylum of the just is there,” pointed to the heavens. “That which is written in the books of the prophets must be accomplished.” “Young man,” I answered mildly, “You will oblige me to convert my requests into an order. The safety of the province which has been confided to my care requires it. You must observe more moderation in your discourses. Do not infringe my order. You know the consequences. May happiness
ttend you. Farewell.”

“I COME NOT TO BRING WAR INTO THE WORLD, BUT PEACE, LOVE AND CHARITY.”

“Prince of the earth,” replied Jesus, “I come not to bring war into the world, but peace, love, and charity. I was born the same day on which Augustus Caesar gave peace to the Roman world. Persecutions proceed not from me. I expect it from others, and will meet it in obedience to the will of my Father, who has shown me the way. Restrain, therefore, your worldly prudence. It is not in your power to arrest the victim at the foot of the tabernacle of expiation.” So saying, he disappeared like a bright shadow behind the curtains of the basilica — to my great relief, for I felt a heavy burden on me, of which I could not relieve myself while in his presence.

JESUS APPEARED TO BE ONE OF THOSE GREAT PHILOSOPHERS THAT GREAT
NATIONS SOMETIMES PRODUCE

To Herod, who then reigned in Galilee, the enemies of Jesus addressed themselves, to wreak their vengeance on the Nazarene. Had Herod consulted his own inclinations, he would have ordered Jesus immediately be put to death; but, though proud of his royal dignity, yet he hesitated to commit an act that might lessen his influence with the Senate, or like me, was afraid of Jesus. But it would never do for a Roman officer to be scared by a Jew. Previously to this, Herod called on me at the Praetorium, and, on rising to take leave, after some trifling conversation asked me what was my opinion concerning the Nazarene. I replied that Jesus appeared to me to be one of those great philosophers that great nations sometimes produced; that his doctrines were by no means sacrilegious, and that the intentions of Rome were to leave him to freedom of speech, which was justified by his actions. Herod smiled maliciously, and, saluting me with ironical respect, departed.

CLAMORING FOR THE DEATH OF THE NAZARENE

The great feast of the Jews was approaching, and the intention was to avail themselves of the popular exultation, which always manifests itself at the solemnities of the Passover. The city was overflowing with a tumultuous populace, clamoring for the death of the Nazarene. My emissaries informed me that the treasure of the temple had been employed in bribing the people. The danger was pressing. A Roman Centurion had been insulted. I wrote to the Prefect of Syria for a hundred foot soldiers and as many cavalry. He declined. I saw myself alone with a handful of veterans in the midst of a rebellious city, too weak to suppress an uprising, and having no choice left but to tolerate it. They had seized upon Jesus, and the seditious rabble, although they had nothing to fear from the Praetorium, believing, as their leaders had told them, that I winked at their sedition, continued vociferating; “Crucify him! Crucify him!” Three powerful parties had combined together at that time against Jesus. First, the Herodians and Sadducees, whose seditious conduct seemed to have proceeded from double motives; they hated the Nazarene and were impatient of the Roman yoke. They never forgave me for having entered the holy city with banners that bore the image of the Roman emperor; and although in this instance I had committed a fatal error, yet the sacrilege did not appear less heinous in their eyes. Another grievance also rankled in their bosoms. I had proposed to employ a part of the treasure of the temple in erecting edifices for public use. My proposal was scorned. The Pharisees were the avowed enemies of Jesus. They cared not for the government. They bore with bitterness the severe reprimands which the Nazarene for three years had been continually giving them wherever he went. Timid and too weak to act by themselves, they had embraced the quarrels of the Herodians and the Sadducees. Beside these three parties, I had to contend against the reckless and profligate populace, always ready to join a sedition, and to profit by the disorder and confusion that resulted therefrom.

CONDEMNED TO DEATH

Jesus was dragged before the High Priest and condemned to death. It was then that the High Priest, Caiaphas, performed a divisory act of submission. He sent his prisoner to me to confirm his condemnation and secure his execution. I answered him that, as Jesus was a Galilean, the affair came under Herod’s jurisdiction, and ordered his to be sent thither. The wily Tetrarch professed humility, and protesting his deference to the lieutenant of Caesar, he committed the fate of the man to my hands. Soon my palace assumed the aspect of a besieged citadel. Every moment increased the number of malcontents. Jerusalem was inundated with crowds from the mountains of Nazareth. All Judo appeared to be pouring into the city.

“BEWARE, BEWARE, AND TOUCH NOT THAT MAN; FOR HE IS HOLY.”

I had taken a wife from among the Gaels, who pretended to see into futurity. Weeping and throwing herself at my feet she said to me: “Beware, Beware, and touch not that man; for he is holy. Last night I saw him in a vision. He was walking on the waters; he was flying on the wings of the wind. He spoke to the tempest and to the fishes of the lake; all were obedient to him. Behold, the torrent of Mount Heron flows with blood, the statues of Caesar are filled with lemonade; the columns of the interim have given away and the sun is veiled in mourning like a vestal in the tomb. Ah! Pilate, evil awaits thee. It thou wilt not listen to the vows of thy wife, dread the curse of a Roman Senate; dread the frowns of Caesar.” By this time the marble stair groaned under the weight of the multitude. The Nazarene was brought back to me. I proceeded to the halls of justice, followed by my guard, and asked the people in a severe tone what they demanded. “The death of the Nazarene,” was the reply. “For what crime?” “He has blasphemed; he has prophesied the ruin of the temple; he calls himself the Son of God; the Messiah, the King of the Jews.” “Roman justice,” said I; “punishes not such offenses with death.”

“CRUCIFY HIM! CRUCIFY HIM!”

“Crucify him! Crucify him!” cried the relentless rabble. The vociferations of the infuriated mob shook the palace to its foundations. There was but one who appeared to be calm in the midst of the vast multitude; it was the Nazarene. After many fruitless attempts to protect him from the fury of his merciless prosecutors, I adopted a measure, which at the moment appeared to me to be the only one that could save his life. I proposed, as it was their custom to deliver a prisoner on such occasions, to release Jesus and let him go free, that he might be the scapegoat, as they called it; but they said Jesus must be crucified. I then spoke to them of the inconsistency of their course as being incompatible with their laws, showing that no criminal judge could pass sentence on a criminal unless he had fasted one whole day; and that the sentence must have the consent of the Sanhedrin, and the signature of the president of that court; that no criminal could be executed on the same day his sentence was fixed, and the next day, on the day of his execution, the Sanhedrin was required to review the whole proceeding; also, according to their law, a man was stationed at the door of the court with a flag, and another a short way off on horseback to cry the name of the criminal and his crime, and names of his witnesses and to know if anyone could testify in his favor; and the prisoner on his way to execution had the right to turn back three times, and to plead any new thing in his favor. I urged all these pleas, hoping they might awe them into subjection; but they still cried, “Crucify him! Crucify him!”

I THEN CALLED FOR A BASIN, AND WASHED MY HANDS

I then ordered Jesus to be scourged, hoping this might satisfy them; but it only increased their fury. I then called for a basin, and washed my hands in the presence of the clamorous multitude, thus testifying that in my judgment Jesus of Nazareth had done nothing deserving of death; but in vain. It was his life these wretches thirsted for. Often in our civil commotions have I witnessed the furious anger of the multitude, but nothing could be compared to what I witnessed on this occasion. It might have been truly said that all the phantoms of the infernal regions had assembled at Jerusalem. The crowd appeared not to walk, but to be borne off and whirled as a vortex, rolling along in living waves from the portals of the Praetorium even into Mount Zion, with howling screams, shrieks, and vociferations such as were never heard in the seditions of the Pannonia, or in the tumults of the forum. By degrees the day darkened like a winter’s twilight, such as had been at the death of the great Julius Caesar. It was likewise the Ides of March. I, the continued governor of a rebellious province, was leaning against a column of my basilic, contemplating athwart the dreary gloom these fiends of Tartarus dragging to execution the innocent Nazarene. All around me was deserted. Jerusalem had vomited forth her indwellers through the funeral gate that leads of Gemonica. An air of desolation and sadness enveloped me. My guards had joined the cavalry, and the centurion, with a display of power, was endeavoring to keep order. I was left alone, and my breaking heart admonished me that what was passing at that moment appertained rather to the history of the gods than that of men. A loud clamour was heard proceeding from Golgotha, which, borne on the winds, seemed to announce an agony such as was never heard by mortal ears. Dark clouds lowered over the pinnacle of the temple, and setting over city covered it as with a veil. So dreadful were the signs that men saw both in the heavens and on the earth that Dionysius the Areopagite is reported to have exclaimed: “Either the author of nature is suffering or the universe is falling apart.” Whilst these appalling scenes of nature were transpiring, there was a dreadful earthquake in lower Egypt, which filled everybody with fear, and scared the superstitious Jews almost to death. It is said Balthasar, an aged and learned Jew of Antioch, was found dead after the excitement was over. Whether he died from alarm or grief is not known. He was a strong friend of the Nazarene.

THE SACRIFICE WAS CONSUMMATED

Near the first hour of the night I threw my mantle around me, and went into the city toward the gates of Golgotha. The sacrifice was consummated. The crowd was returning home, still agitated, it is true, but gloomy, taciturn, and desperate. What they had witnessed had stricken them with terror and remorse. I also saw my little Roman cohorts pass by mournfully, the standard-bearer having veiled his eagle in token of grief, and I overheard some of the Jewish soldiers murmuring strange words, which I did not understand. Others were recounting miracles very like those, which have so often smitten the Romans by the will of the gods. Sometimes groups of men and women would halt, then, looking back toward Mount Calvary, would remain motionless in expectation of witnessing some new prodigy.

THEY ALL SLUNK OFF LIKE COWARDLY CURS

I returned to the Praetorium, sad and pensive. On ascending the stairs, the steps of which were still stained with blood of the
Nazarene, I perceived an old man in a suppliant posture, and behind him several Romans in tears. He threw himself at my feet and wept most bitterly. It is painful to see an old man weep, and my heart being already overcharged with grief, we though strangers, wept together. And in truth it seemed that the tears lay very shallow that day with many whom I perceived in the vast concourse of people. I never witnessed such an extreme revulsion of feeling. Those who betrayed and sold him, those who testified against him, those who cried, “Crucify him! We have his blood,” all slunk off like cowardly curs, and washed their teeth with vinegar. As I am told that Jesus taught a resurrection and a separation after death, if such be the fact, I am sure it commenced in this vast crowd. “Father,” said I to him, after gaining control of my feelings, “who are you, and what is your request?”

PERMISSION TO BURY JESUS OF NAZARETH

“I am Joseph of Arimathaea,” replied he, “and am come to beg of you upon my knees the permission to bury Jesus of Nazareth.” “Your prayer is granted,” said I to him, and at the same time I ordered Manlius to take some soldiers with him to superintend the interment, lest it should be profaned. A few days after the sepulchre was found empty. His disciples proclaimed all over the country that Jesus had risen from the dead, as he had foretold. This created more excitement even than the crucifixion. As to its truth I cannot say for certain, but I have made some investigation of the matter; so you can examine for yourself and see if I am in fault, as Herod represents.

Joseph buried Jesus in his own tomb. Whether he contemplated his resurrection or calculated to cut him another, I cannot tell. The day after he was buried one of the priests came to the Praetorium and said they were apprehensive that his disciples intended to steal the body of Jesus and hide it, and then make it appear that he had risen from the dead, as he had foretold, and of which they were perfectly convinced. I sent him to the captain of the royal guard (Malcus) to tell him to take the Jewish soldiers, place as many around the sepulchre as were needed; then if anything should happen they could blame themselves, and not the Romans.

When the great excitement arose about the sepulchre being found empty, I felt a deeper solicitude than ever. I sent for Malcus, who told me he had placed his lieutenant, Ben Isham, with one hundred soldiers, around the sepulchre. He told me that Isham and the soldiers were very much alarmed at what had occurred there that morning. I sent for this man Isham, who related to me, as near as I can recollect, the following circumstances: he said that at about the beginning of the fourth watch they saw a soft and beautiful light over the sepulchre. He at first thought the women had come to enbalm the body of Jesus, as was their custom, but he could not see how they had gotten through the guards. While these thoughts were passing through his mind, behold the whole place was lighted up, and there seemed to be crowds of the dead in their grave clothes. All seemed to be shouting and filled with ecstasy, while all around and above was the most beautiful music he had ever heard; and the whole air seemed to be full of voices praising God. At this time there seemed to be a reeling and swimming of the earth, so that he turned so sick and faint that he could not stand on his feet. He said the earth seemed to swim from under him, and his senses left him, so that he knew not what did occur. I asked him in what condition he was when he came to himself. He said he was lying on the ground with his face down. I asked him if he could not have been mistaken as to the light. Was it not day that was coming in the East? He said at first he thought of that, but at a stone’s cast it was exceedingly dark; and then he remembered it was too early for day. I asked him if his dizziness might not have come from being wakened up and getting up too suddenly, as it sometimes had that effect. He said he was not, and had not been asleep all night, as the penalty was death for him to sleep on duty. He said he had let some of the soldiers sleep at a time. Some were asleep then. I asked him how long the scene lasted. He said he did not know, but he thought nearly an hour. He said it was hid by the light of day. I asked him if he went to the sepulchre after he had come to himself. He said no, because he was afraid; that just as soon as relief came they all went to their quarters. I asked him if he had been questioned by the priests. He said he had. They wanted him to say it was an earthquake, and that they were asleep, and offered him money to say that the disciples came and stole Jesus, but he saw no disciples; he did not know that the body was gone until he was told. I asked him what was the private opinion of those priests he had conversed with. He said that some of them thought that Jesus was no man; that he was not a human being; that he was not the son of Mary; that he was not the same that was said to be born of the Virgin in Bethlehem; that the same person had been on earth before with Abraham and Lot, and at many times and places.

It seems to me that if the Jewish theory be true, these conclusions are correct, for they are in accord with this man’s life, as is known and testified by both friends and foes, for the elements were no more in his hands than the clay in the hands of the potter. He could convert water into wine; he could change death into life, disease into health; he could calm the seas, still the storms, and call up fish with a silver coin in its mouth. Now, I say, if he could do all these things, which he did, and many more, as the Jews all testify, and it was doing these things that created this enmity against him — he was not charged with criminal offenses, nor was he charged with violating any law, nor of wronging any individual in person, and all these facts are known to thousands, as well by his foes as by his friends — I am almost ready to say, as did Manlius at the cross: “Truly this was the Son of God.” Now noble Sovereign, this is as near the facts in the case as I can arrive at, and I have taken pains to make the statement very full, so that you may judge of my conduct upon the whole, as I hear that Antipater has said many hard things of me in this matter.

With the promise of faithfulness and good wishes to my noble
Sovereign, I am your most obedient servant, Pontius Pilate.
END


19 posted on 08/09/2009 3:51:14 PM PDT by I Hate Obama ("Life Is Like A Box of Chocolates, You Never Know What You're Gonna Get." -Forest Gump)
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might be easier to just read it at the link:

http://www.geocities.com/rapturetheory2000/pilateletter.html


20 posted on 08/09/2009 3:52:21 PM PDT by I Hate Obama ("Life Is Like A Box of Chocolates, You Never Know What You're Gonna Get." -Forest Gump)
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