An Easter Tale - Rex Futurus, Part 2

The next day people began to talk about Pilate’s wife.

Now, let me get something out of the way. I’m really curious as to how all this will be talked about in, say, two thousand years. I think I know. I think so because I know how it’s being talked about now, how the story is already taking shape.

It would be one thing if Jesus were turning into legend. Legends take one of two paths. The first is that they become an epithet, the epitome of evil in the eye of memory. The second is that they become impossibly heroic. The legend would be that Jesus tried to overthrow the Roman Empire itself. He would be cautionary tale in one, a glorious victor in the other. Imagine if this idea of his becomes state religion at some point, what his detractors would say. What the believers would!

But he was just a man (in one sense). He died as a man. He was condemned both by his own people, and under Pilate, by the empire, too. History officially has little space for him now. He was executed in a group. I saw him hang there myself. Surrounded by common criminals. Forget what Pilate had nailed to the cross above his head. From a distance all you could see was three dying men gasping for breath. 

What they’re saying about Pilate’s wife, though. They say all through the ordeal yesterday she pleaded for this man’s life. It doesn’t matter if it’s true. It doesn’t matter if it’s his followers putting out a false narrative. The man was just executed by the state. You can’t argue, logically, realistically, that they make themselves look good by suggesting only that it was his own Jewish authorities responsible. I know the Romans. It will be a long, long time before they even consider sympathy for this business. They’re going to kill a lot more of them, these followers of the way of Jesus.

Why would this story circulate, then? He died. Yesterday. End of story. Consigned to history. Forgotten. Except the story continues, and it takes interesting turns. They say she thought he was not only innocent, but an innocent, one of the truly good people. As to whether he was innocent of the basic charge of intended or implied mutiny, that’s debatable. I don’t particularly see it that way myself. It’s said that he preached those who live by the sword die by the sword. Apart from the temple incident he abhorred violence. It’s said he once preached those eager to cast stones in judgment of another must surely be themselves entirely blameless. 

It’s said she thought he was such a person. Perhaps the only such person who ever lived. He was a preacher, first and foremost, who never went out of his way to promote himself. Drawing attention for the sake of attention was never his ambition. His message gained followers, his wisdom. It’s said he performed miracles, and there were those who believed in him because of this, only because of this. It’s said his message finds parallels in other cultures. In the far east there’s said to be a tradition of holy orders very similar to his ideals, except theirs believes ultimate removal from daily life is the key to satisfaction in this world, where he always argued radical acceptance of even the worst trials, such as the one he himself endured. 

I don’t think the acceptance of pain was his message, or even the seeking of it for penance. That’s what he had to experience. It’s said even as he died he asked forgiveness for those who put him up there.

Last night and into this morning I have been struggling to understand all of this, which is why any scrap of additional insight is so valuable. It’s said his followers almost to a man abandoned him in his final hours, that only his mother, some family friends, some secret friends, and the youngest of his disciples were present. Such a motley crew wouldn’t be sending such stories out so quickly. It was a strange business, what happened. Strange stories are going to be told. But maybe not as strange as this.

Pilate’s wife. It’s said she was plagued with nightmares. In their culture such things have meaning. That’s how they interpret the world. She worried about what her husband’s decision meant. It’s said he washed his hands of the business. He put up that sign. Somehow I doubt she thought that was good enough.

So what do I believe? I believe such a story. I’m starting to believe. I believe this is not the end of the story.