The Truth is...Knowledge does not always equal Understanding

Pontius Pilot, a strange person (to me) in the history of Christ's Passion. What has stood out to me the most about him is the conversation with Christ ( John 18:38 ) when Christ declares who He is (our King) and his purpose ( bring all to Truth in Him). Pilate's response is such a "modern" secular response..."What is truth?". Pilot is searching for a reason not to believe what is before him ( in my humble interpretation) he even goes out to the crowd next in a vain attempt to free Christ and, most notably, absolve his own guilt/sin.
He simply doesn't see the truth... Christ came, Christ Died, Christ rose again to take away our guilt and sin. We can not do it on our own, we cannot define truth outside of God and our place with Him.
No matter how hard we try to reason, debate, or think...it all comes back to Jesus.

Please read the links to the verses. Please pray and wrestle with what Christ is telling you.
As always...please enjoy this poem for what it is ...my gift to you.

Pilot’s Lament

(John 18:28-40, 19:1-16, Mark 15:1-15, Matt 27:11-26, Luke 23:1-25, )

The Truth is…

These backwater religious fools

would have me do the dirty work.

Their power stops at the Temple Door,

So their hands always stay clean.

The Truth is…

I pride myself a judge of men.

I know the weak, the cunning, the faint of heart.

And here stands this man- this carpenter.

No madman boasting delirium

or cowardly pleas.

He speaks with surety of a kingdom unseen

yet as real as the bruises on his face,

real as his mud stained torn clothes.

His gaze steady as a centurion before battle

even as the crowd is whipped up for his blood.

The Truth is…

This man stands before me

with some strange nobility.

Spit, thorns, and mockery

do nothing to his dignity.

The blood of every stripe

on his back

radiating some hidden glory

outshining the humiliation.

The Truth is…

That this man stands before me

As if he had the power

to choose his life

or choose his death.

Can he not hear the crowds’ betrayal?

They choose a terrorist over a teacher.

Can he not see the only truth?

    Of my power and his pain,

    Of his blood and a cross?

Can I not wash my hands of you?

   Innocent pawn,

   Foolish philosopher,

   Only trying

   for some small truth.

I cannot wash my hands of you.

I cannot wash my hands of Truth.