When I think about kings, I think about Game of Thrones - a distant and brutal world where humans kill each other for power. But for those in 1st century Palestine, it would not have been distant. They would have felt the presence of the Roman emperor daily, with Roman troops in the streets and the emperor’s face on every coin.
The Jewish people also had their own kings, stretching all the way back to King David. And 200 years before Jesus was born, Judas Maccabaeus led a revolt against the occupying force of the Syrian Empire, establishing a new kingdom he saw as linked to the old Davidic lineage. This became the Hasmonean Dynasty, a truly Jewish kingdom to ward off all occupying forces, and this lineage lasted until Herod the Great murdered the last remaining descendent. He did this while trying to ward off attempts by another great empire, the Parthians, from seizing control of Jerusalem, and was awarded by Rome his own title of “King of the Jews.” You may recall that when Jesus was seized by the chief priests and brought before Roman officials, he stood before Herod the Great’s son, Antipas.
Barabbas, the Jewish resistance fighter also being held in Roman custody, was fighting for the return of a legitimate Jewish king, despite Herod murdering his best hope of that happening.
So when the Roman Governor, Pontius Pilate, stands before Jesus and asks him, “are you the king of the Jews”, everyone would have had an idea of what that looks like, along with the many competing claims on that title.
Despite this all being Game of Thrones-esque, I recognize it. On a large scale, in the way governments wrestle for power and the reason America has the largest military budget in the world. Also in the way corporations leverage wealth to change the landscape of cities, and in how some communities are more policed than others.
I even recognize it on an interpersonal level: in the ways we seek to maintain our own sense of control - in my own family system of origin, and even in my closest relationships. In those moments that I feel small and vulnerable, why is my first instinct to gather power - over a physical space, over my finances, in an argument with my partner?
Perhaps some of us relate to Pilate or the chief priests. I know they are painted as the villains, but they are just trying to keep things as they are, because the way things are is working for them. And maybe things are working for us right now.
Or maybe we identify more with Barabbas, who has spent his whole life getting manipulated and abused by people with more power than him, and he has decided to fight back. Maybe we are in a phase of our lives where we have never fought for ourselves, and right now it is really significant and amazing that we finally are.
Too often we bring a moralistic framework to texts like this, I guess because it’s the Bible, and we apply an ethical ruler to every character, judging where they stand on the goodness scale. But I don’t actually know anything about these people, aside from the few lines they get in a 2,000 year old story.
One thing I do know is that I recognize something in each of these characters and the game they are caught in. And I feel a deep exhaustion and dissatisfaction with the way this game goes. The only one I don’t recognize is Jesus - it’s like he is playing a different game altogether. If he was dropped into Game Thrones, would the entire plot just fall apart?
As much as I loved the show, I guess that’s what I’m hoping for - a way out of the game. Have I ever met someone like this before? What does it look like to refuse to play the game altogether? Is it even possible, or is that the kind of escapist dream only people like Jeff Bezos can afford to think about?
Looking forward to discussing tomorrow.
If you are interested in reading ahead, links are here: