
THE INTERROGATION
Therefore Pilate entered again into the Praetorium, and summoned Jesus and said to Him, “Are You the King of the Jews?” Jesus answered, “Are you saying this on your own initiative, or did others tell you about Me?” Pilate answered, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests delivered You to me; what have You done?” Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not of this world. If My kingdom were of this world, then My servants would be fighting so that I would not be handed over to the Jews; but as it is, My kingdom is not of this realm.” Therefore Pilate said to Him, “So You are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say correctly that I am a king. For this I have been born, and for this I have come into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth hears My voice.” Pilate said to Him, “What is truth?” (18:33–38a)
Leaving the Jewish leaders standing outside, Pilate entered again into the Praetorium, and summoned Jesus. Luke 23:2 provides the background to his question, “Are You the King of the Jews?” Realizing that they had to come up with a charge that would impress a Roman judge, the Jewish leaders “began to accuse [Jesus], saying, ‘We found this man misleading our nation and forbidding to pay taxes to Caesar, and saying that He Himself is Christ, a King.’ ” The charges, of course, were completely false; Jesus had actually said the opposite: “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s; and to God the things that are God’s” (Matt. 22:21). Their goal was to portray Him as an insurrectionist, bent on overthrowing Roman rule and establishing His own.
Pilate could not overlook such a threat to Roman power. His question, “Are You the King of the Jews?” was in effect asking Jesus whether He was pleading guilty or not guilty to the charge of insurrection. “Pilate’s question seeks to determine whether or not Jesus constituted a political threat to Roman imperial power” (Andreas J. Köstenberger, John, Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament [Grand Rapids: Baker, 2004], 527). In all four gospel accounts this is the first question Pilate asks Jesus, and in all four the pronoun “You” is emphatic. The Greek text literally reads, “You, are You the King of the Jews?” Pilate was incredulous; from a human perspective, Jesus did not look like a king. And if He was a king, where were His followers and His army? And how was He a threat to Rome?
Jesus could not answer Pilate’s question with an unqualified “Yes” or “No” without first defining exactly what His kingship entails. His counterquestion, “Are you saying this on your own initiative, or did others tell you about Me?” was intended to clarify the issue. If Pilate was saying this on his own initiative, he would be asking if Jesus was a king in the political sense (and hence a threat to Rome). Jesus’ answer in that case would be no; He was not a king in the sense of a military or political leader. He had earlier rejected the crowd’s attempt to make Him such a king (6:15). But neither could the Lord deny that as the Messiah He was Israel’s true king.
Pilate’s sharp retort, “I am not a Jew, am I?” reflects both his disdain for the Jewish people, and his growing exasperation with the frustrating, puzzling ethnic case set before him. His further elaboration, Your own nation and the chief priests delivered You to me, makes it clear that the governor was merely repeating the charge leveled against Jesus by the Jewish leaders; the accusation was theirs, not Rome’s. Exactly why they had done so still eluded Pilate. He knew perfectly well that the Jews would not have handed over to him someone hostile to Rome unless they stood to gain from doing so.
Attempting once again to get to the bottom of things, Pilate asked the question that he should have asked at the outset: what have You done? Unlike Jewish practice (see the discussion of 18:19 in the previous chapter of this volume), Roman legal procedure allowed the accused to be questioned in detail (Köstenberger, John, 527). Pilate understood that the Jewish leaders had handed Jesus over to him because of envy (Matt. 27:18). What he still did not understand was what Jesus had done to provoke such vehement hostility from them and what, if any, crime He had committed.
Since it was now clear that Pilate was merely repeating the charge of the Jewish leaders, Jesus answered his question. He was a king, but not a political ruler intent on challenging Rome’s rule. “My kingdom is not of (Greek ek; “out from the midst of”) this world,” He declared. Its source was not the world system, nor did Jesus derive His authority from any human source. As noted earlier, He had rejected the crowd’s attempt to crown Him king. He also passed up an opportunity to proclaim Himself king at the triumphal entry, when He rode into Jerusalem at the head of tens of thousands of frenzied hopefuls.
To reinforce His point, Jesus noted that if His kingdom were of this world, then His servants would be fighting so that He would not be handed over to the Jews. No earthly king would have allowed himself to have been captured so easily. But when one of His followers (Peter) attempted to defend Him, Jesus rebuked him. The messianic kingdom does not originate from human effort, but through the Son of Man’s conquering of sin in the lives of those who belong to His spiritual kingdom.
Christ’s kingdom is spiritually active in the world today, and one day He will return to physically reign on the earth in millennial glory (Rev. 11:15; 20:6). But until then His Kingdom exists in the hearts of believers, where He is undisputed King and sovereign Lord. He was absolutely no threat either to the national identity of Israel, or to the political and military identity of Rome.
That the Lord spoke of being handed over to the Jews is significant. Far from leading them in a revolt against Rome, Jesus spoke of the Jews (especially the leaders) as His enemies. He was a king, but since He disavowed the use of force and fighting, He was clearly no threat to Rome’s interests. The Lord’s statement rendered the Jews’ charge that He was a revolutionary bent on overthrowing Rome absurd.
Jesus’ description of His kingdom had left Pilate somewhat confused. If His kingdom was not an earthly one, then was Jesus really a king at all? Seeking to clarify the issue, Pilate said to Him, “So You are a king?” Jesus’ answer was clear and unambiguous: “You say correctly that I am a king.” The Lord boldly “testified the good confession before Pontius Pilate” (1 Tim. 6:13). Unlike earthly kings, however, Jesus was not crowned a king by any human agency. For this I have been born, He declared, and for this I have come into the world. Jesus had not only been born like all other human beings, but also had come into the world from another realm—heaven (cf. 3:13, 31; 6:33; 8:23; 17:5). Taken together, the two phrases are an unmistakable reference to the preexistence and incarnation of the Son of God.
Jesus’ mission was not political but spiritual. It was to testify to the truth by “proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom” (Matt. 4:23). Christ proclaimed the truth about God, men, sin, judgment, holiness, love, eternal life, in short, “everything pertaining to life and godliness” (2 Peter 1:3). What people do with the message of truth Jesus proclaimed determines their eternal destiny; as He went on to declare, “Everyone who is of the truth hears (the Greek word includes the concept of obedience; cf. Luke 9:35) My voice.” Jesus is “the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but through [Him]” (14:6). In 10:27 He added, “My sheep hear My voice and I know them, and they follow Me.” Only those who continue in His Word are truly His disciples; only those who are truly His disciples will know and be set free by the truth (8:31–32).
Jesus’ words were an implied invitation to Pilate to hear and obey the truth about Him. But they were lost on the governor, who abruptly ended his interrogation of Christ with the cynical, pessimistic remark, “What is truth?” Like skeptics of all ages, including contemporary postmodernists, Pilate despaired of finding universal truth. This is the tragedy of fallen man’s rejection of God. Without God, there cannot be any absolutes; without absolutes, there can be no objective, universal, normative truths. Truth becomes subjective, relative, pragmatic; objectivity gives way to subjectivity; timeless universal principles become mere personal or cultural preferences. All fallen mankind has accomplished by forsaking God, “the fountain of living waters,” is “to hew for themselves cisterns, broken cisterns that can hold no water” (Jer. 2:13). Pilate’s flippant retort proved that he was not one of those given by the Father to the Son, who hear and obey Christ’s voice.
MacArthur, J. F., Jr. (2008). John 12–21 (pp. 328–331). Moody Publishers.
Jesus before Pilate
John 18:33–38
Pilate then went back inside the palace, summoned Jesus and asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?”
“Is that your own idea,” Jesus asked, “or did others talk to you about me?”
“Am I a Jew?” Pilate replied. “It was your people and your chief priests who handed you over to me. What is it you have done?”
Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jews. But now my kingdom is from another place.”
“You are a king, then!” said Pilate.
Jesus answered, “You are right in saying I am a king. In fact, for this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.”
“What is truth?” Pilate asked. With this he went out again to the Jews and said, “I find no basis for a charge against him.”
The previous study dealt with two puzzling aspects of the Roman trial: one, the contrast between what we know from secular sources regarding Pilate’s character—insensitive, impetuous, rude—and the way the four Gospels indicate he actually conducted the trial; the second, that Pilate pronounced Christ innocent and yet condemned him to be crucified. These elements make a study of the Roman trial quite difficult and suggest levels of mystery that are possibly unfathomable.
There is one aspect of the Roman trial that is not the least bit mysterious, however. It is the tendency of human nature meticulously to go through all the external forms required by a situation while at the same time denying the very reality the forms stand for. There are two examples of this in the second segment of Christ’s trial. On the one hand, there is the example of the Jewish rulers who, we are told, “to avoid ceremonial uncleanness the Jews did not enter the palace; they wanted to be able to eat the Passover” (John 18:28). Here were men engaged in a most vile act, the judicial murder of Jesus; yet they were concerned about being ceremonially defiled. They had convicted an innocent man of crimes worthy of death, breaking scores of their own laws in the process. They were about to seek a parallel conviction from Pilate by illegally and unconscionably changing the nature of the accusation made against their prisoner. Yet they were concerned about a ritual purification.
The other example of this human tendency is Pilate, who made a great show of justice while actually allowing mob action to force his acquiescence in the death of a man whom he knew was innocent.
The Formal Indictment
Some students of the Roman trial of Jesus have insisted that the real trial was before the Jewish Sanhedrin and that this was merely an informal hearing. But their argument overlooks the actual stages of the trial as they are recorded for us by the New Testament authors. A Roman trial had four essential elements: the indictment, the examination, the defense, and the verdict. Each of these is present in Christ’s trial. The official nature of the proceedings is indicated by Pilate’s opening words: “What charges are you bringing against this man?” (v. 29). As Chandler observes, “This question is very keenly indicative of the presence of the judge and of the beginning of a solemn judicial proceeding. Every word rings with Roman authority and strongly suggests administrative action.”
Pilate’s question seems to have caught the Jewish leaders by surprise, however. For instead of replying with a formal indictment, as they should have been prepared to do, they attempted to evade the question by answering: “If he were not a criminal, we would not have handed him over to you” (v. 30).
At the very least, the reply of the leaders suggests that the priests and scribes regarded their own trial as sufficient and were coming to Pilate merely to secure a formal signature to effect the execution. They were saying, “You should accept the judgment that he is worthy of death merely because we say so.” On the other hand, there may be more to it than this, as was argued in our earlier treatment of the Jewish trial. As we saw in that study, we can hardly suppose that the Jewish Sanhedrin launched into the trial of Jesus at this relatively late hour in Passover week without some understanding with Pilate that he would hear the case and concur in their verdict early on this particular morning. It is clear that the Jews expected a perfunctory endorsement of the verdict already arrived at by their own court. When Pilate surprised them by apparently intending to open the case anew and conduct a formal hearing, they were temporarily caught off guard and replied with this evasion.
Pilate said that if they were unwilling to make a formal accusation, they obviously did not need him and therefore should prosecute the case according to their own laws and inflict whatever penalties they were legally entitled to impose. It is possible that at this point Pilate did not understand that the Jews were seeking the death penalty in Jesus’ case, but it is far more likely that he understood this all too well and was speaking as he did merely to remind the priests that they were under the rule of Rome and would have to conform to Rome’s rules if they wished to have Christ executed. In a later incident involving the apostle Paul, the same principle was stated: “It is not the Roman custom to hand over any man before he has faced his accusers and has had an opportunity to defend himself against their charges” (Acts 25:16).
The unanticipated stubbornness of Pilate clearly thwarted the Jews in their designs. But they were resourceful and, therefore, produced an accusation on the spur of the moment. John does not record it; he passes instead to the heart of the accusation and Pilate’s examination of Jesus on this point. But Luke gives the accusation in full. It has three parts. “We have found this man subverting our nation. He opposes payment of taxes to Caesar and claims to be the Christ” (Luke 23:2).
This is not the crime of which Jesus had been convicted in their own court. Chandler writes, “In the passage from the Sanhedrin to the Praetorium, the indictment had completely changed. Jesus had not been condemned on any of the charges recorded in this sentence of St. Luke. He had been convicted on the charge of blasphemy. But before Pilate he is now charged with high treason.… Why? Because blasphemy was not an offense against Roman law, and Roman judges would generally assume cognizance of no such charges.
“The Jews understood perfectly well at the trial before Pilate the principle of Roman procedure so admirably expressed a few years later by Gallio, proconsul of Achaia, and brother of Seneca: ‘If it were a matter of wrong or wicked lewdness, O ye Jews, reason would that I should bear with you: but if it be a question of words and names, and of your law, look ye to it; for I will be no judge of such matters.’ This attitude of Roman governors toward offenses of a religious nature perfectly explains the Jewish change of front in the matter of the accusation against Jesus. They merely wanted to get themselves into a Roman court on charges that a Roman judge would consent to try. In the threefold accusation recorded by the third Evangelist, they fully accomplished this result.”
The first charge was that Christ was “perverting the nation.” This was indefinite. Had Pilate taken it seriously, it would have had to have been supported by specific examples of sedition. Still, it was a real offense. It was, in fact, the precise charge that the Jewish court had tried to prove against Jesus in reference to his claim to be able to tear down the temple and rebuild it in three days. The Jews had been unable to prove this in their court because of the contradictory testimony of their witnesses.
The second charge was also serious. In fact, it was more serious than the first in that it was a specific treasonable act under Roman law governing a captive state. The only problem with this charge is that it was clearly false. On an earlier occasion the nation’s leaders had attempted to trap Jesus on this very issue, but he had acquitted himself admirably. They had come to him with a trick question, asking, “What is your opinion? Is it right to pay taxes to Caesar or not?” (Matt. 22:17). They reasoned that if he said yes, they could denounce him to the people, saying, “What kind of Messiah is this who counsels abject subservience to Rome?” On the other hand, if he replied no, they could denounce him to Rome, saying “You have an insurrectionist on your hands.” But what did Christ answer? He asked for a coin and demanded of his questioners, “Whose portrait is this? And whose inscription?” (v. 20). When they replied, “Caesar’s,” he gave that ruling that has become the classical biblical statement of the separation of church and state, involving the proper responsibilities of and to each. He said, “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s” (v. 21). In this charge the leaders were therefore guilty of the most flagrant and malicious of lies.
The third charge was the greatest and most serious of the three, that Jesus had claimed to be “Christ, a king.” It was serious because it was true. It was also serious because it was the claim about which Rome was most sensitive and against which she was most on her guard. When Pilate heard this charge he gathered his robes about him, motioned for Jesus to follow him, made his way back into the palace (which John alone records) and began the examination, the second part of every Roman trial. Not content with receiving the formal accusation alone, Pilate now sought to determine whether the charges preferred against Jesus were true.
The Examination
Each of the Gospel writers records the question with which Pilate began his interrogation. It is simply, “Are you the King of the Jews?” (Matt. 27:11; Mark 15:2; Luke 23:3; John 18:33). With this question Pilate, it would appear, impatiently brushed aside the two lesser charges as unworthy of serious consideration and proceeded at once to examine Jesus on that charge which, if true, would unmistakably brand him Caesar’s enemy.
John records Christ’s full reply. As we read it, it seems like an evasion—“Is that your own idea or did others talk to you about me?” (v. 34)—but actually Jesus’ reply is much to the point. For having heard the charge first from the lips of the Jews and now from Pilate himself, Jesus wishes to know first of all in what sense the question is being put to him. What was the nature of the charge? If the question were being asked from a Roman point of view, one answer would be given; for Christ was not a king from Rome’s perspective. On the other hand, if the question were being asked from a Jewish perspective, quite another answer would be given; for Jesus was the Jews’ Messiah.
Pilate’s reply, while abrupt, is nevertheless also directly to the point at this stage in the examination. He asks, “Am I a Jew? It was your people and your chief priests who handed you over to me. What is it you have done?” (v. 35). This means, “I am no Jew. I ask my question as a Roman administrator and, as such, purely religious questions have no interest for me. What I want to know is: What have you done that might affect the sovereignty of Caesar?”
The Defense
At this point, although the interrogation continues, Jesus begins his defense by introducing what in modern law would be called a plea of confession and avoidance. This is a plea which admits, either in words or in effect, the truth of the accusation but which nevertheless introduces some new matter to avoid the guilt which normally would follow. For example, we may imagine a case in which a man is on trial for murder. The judge asks, “Did you shoot and kill John Smith on the date in question?” The defendant might answer, “Yes, I did, your Honor; but you should know that I discovered him in my dining room near an open window trying to steal my silver chest and that when I discovered him he came at me with a knife. My plea is justified homicide and self-defense.” Here the defendant admits to the killing but pleads extenuating circumstances. In the same way, the Lord now admits to the charge of having claimed to be a king but describes his kingship in such a way that it is seen to be no threat to the legitimate claims of Caesar.
Jesus first explains the nature of his kingdom negatively: “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jews. But now my kingdom is from another place” (v. 36).
We do not know whether Pilate understood what Jesus was saying in this reply, but one phrase immediately caught his attention, the phrase “my kingdom.” Jesus seemed to be saying that this was not an earthly kingdom, but Pilate could take no chances on this crucial issue. He therefore picked up on this phrase and (probably) advanced on Christ threateningly to demand sternly, “You are a king, then!” (v. 37).
This time Jesus replies to the question with a positive affirmation: “You are right in saying that I am a king. In fact, for this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me” (v. 37).
Jesus’ defense has two parts. One is a negative definition of his kingdom. It is “not of this world.” The proof is that his disciples did not fight to prevent his arrest by the Jewish authorities. The other is a positive definition of the kingdom. It is of “the truth.” That is, it is a kingdom ruling over people’s minds and aspirations. Chandler writes, “His was not an empire of matter, but a realm of truth. His kingdom differed widely from that of Caesar. Caesar’s empire was over the bodies of men; Christ’s over their souls. The strength of Caesar’s kingdom was in citadels, armies, navies, the towering Alps, the all-engirding seas. The strength of the kingdom of Christ was and is and will ever be in sentiments, principles, ideas, and the saving power of a divine word.”
Pilate could not fully appreciate this instruction. “Truth?” he asked. “What is truth?” Then he turned away, convinced at last that whatever Jesus’ peculiar ideas, he was certainly no worse than any other religious fanatic and was, at least from Rome’s point of view, perfectly innocent of any capital offenses.
The Verdict
The last phase of the Roman trial followed immediately upon Pilate’s examination of Jesus and Jesus’ defense. John tells us that, having concluded this examination, “he went out again to the Jews, and said, ‘I find no basis for a charge against him’ ” (v. 38). Absolvo! Non fecisse videtur! Standing alone these phrases indicate the close of the trial and mark it as being an official court proceeding.
Pilate had tried and acquitted Jesus. Why then did he not release him or, if need be, place him in protective custody as a later Roman ruler did with the apostle Paul when his life was threatened (Acts 21:31–33; 23:12–24)? This is the question that the human race has asked of Pontius Pilate for nearly two thousand years. Pilate was guilty of nothing at all up to this point. In fact, he had conducted the trial with precision, wisdom, and dispatch. He had reached the right verdict. But now, in spite of his calling as a Roman governor and judge, the high example of many thousands of Roman administrators before him, and the power of the legions in Palestine, he failed to do the right thing by immediately setting Christ free. The mood of the crowd forestalled him. Then he settled down into a series of irregular and illegal proceedings that eventually ended in the prisoner’s execution. Pilate was a coward. This is the only proper analysis of his character and the ultimate explanation of why he failed to do right in this situation.
What does this mean? It means that in the true, eternal issues of the case it is Pilate who was judged by the Lord and found wanting. I have titled this chapter “Jesus before Pilate,” but we must never forget that in another and far more important sense it is also “Pilate before Jesus.” In the former Jesus was tried and found innocent. Rightly so. In the latter Pilate was tried and found guilty.
So are all who stand before Christ. He is the only perfect person who ever lived. His standard for us is perfection. We all fall short, each one. For “there is no one righteous, not even one; there is no one who understands, no one who seeks God. All have turned away, they have together become worthless; there is no one who does good, not even one” (Rom. 3:10–12). We stand condemned. But it is for such condemned men and women that Christ died. He died to bear the punishment for their sin and thereby free them from God’s righteous judgment and curse.
Has he done that for you? He has if you are a subject of his kingdom, which you have entered (if you have entered it) by a believing response to his truth and person. That response entails the belief that Jesus is who he says he is (the Son of God) and did what he said he would do (die for your sin), coupled with a personal commitment to follow him as your Savior and Lord.
Christ’s Kingdom Not of This World
John 18:36–37
Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jews. But now my kingdom is from another place.”
“You are a king, then!” said Pilate.
Jesus answered, “You are right in saying I am a king. In fact, for this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.”
In the first of his two great letters to Timothy, the apostle Paul tells us that Jesus Christ “while testifying before Pontius Pilate made the good confession” (1 Tim. 6:13). That good confession is not found in the synoptic Gospels—Matthew, Mark, or Luke—for they contain only a five-word response from Jesus. When Jesus was asked if he were the king of the Jews, they report him as answering, “It is as you say” (Matt. 27:11; Mark 15:2; Luke 23:3), after which he said nothing. It is only in John that the good confession of Jesus before Pilate is reported to us fully.
We can be glad that John recorded it. For one thing, it teaches us what a “good confession” is. This confession is good as to the manner in which it is given. It was not rude or brusque or condescending or veiled in mysteries, as our confessions often are. It was simple, kind, direct, and helpful. Though Christ was soon to be condemned by Pilate, he did not despise him but rather treated him with the respect due him because of his office. Again, the confession of our Lord was good as to its matter, for here, before one who was rightly concerned with earthly sovereignty, Christ spoke of divine versus human affairs and of God’s sovereignty. This teaches us how we should speak of spiritual things and what we should say.
A second reason why we should be glad that John has included these words is that they contain a definition of the nature of Christ’s kingdom in the very words of Jesus and at a most important moment.
Those who have studied the meaning of the kingdom of God in the Old and New Testaments know that this is a very complex subject, the reason being that the phrase is used in so many different ways. Sometimes it seems to refer in an abstract way to the reign or rule of God. At other times it refers to a coming future rule of Christ or God upon earth. In one key text (Luke 17:21, and parallels) the kingdom of God is said to be “among” or “in the midst” of this world, presumably in the person of Christ and his disciples. In a fourth series of passages the kingdom is something into which men and women enter. This is confusing, and it is compounded by the fact that, according to one writer at least, “Jesus nowhere defined what he meant by the phrase.”
Well, it may be true that Jesus nowhere gives a careful theological definition of “the kingdom of God.” There are not many terms he did do this with. But still these verses in John’s Gospel may be brought forward as something very closely approaching it.
Christ, a King
The jumping-off point for Christ’s definition of his kingdom is with the confession that he is indeed a king, whatever the appearances may be to the contrary. He did not look like a king. He was bound and beaten (Luke 22:63–65). He was to be beaten further still. Yet no king, seated upon a throne at the pinnacle of world power, was more entitled to be called a king than he.
This fact is important, for what is true of the king is no less true of his kingdom. Charles Haddon Spurgeon wrote of this more than a hundred years ago: “To this day, pure Christianity, in its outward appearances, is an equally unattractive object, and wears upon its surface few royal tokens. It is without form or comeliness, and when men see it, there is no beauty that they should desire it. True, there is a nominal Christianity which is accepted and approved of men, but the pure gospel is still despised and rejected. The real Christ of today, among men, is unknown and unrecognized as much as he was among his own nation eighteen hundred years ago.… Christ chanted in cathedrals, Christ personified in lordly prelates, Christ surrounded by such as are in kings’ houses, he is well enough; but Christ honestly obeyed, followed, and worshiped in simplicity, without pomp or form, they will not allow to reign over them.…
“We are satisfied that Christ is the king still where he was wont to be king, and that is not among the great ones of the earth, nor among the mighty and the learned, but amongst the base things of the world and the things which are not, which shall bring to nought the things that are, for these hath God from the beginning chosen to be his own.”
A Spiritual Kingdom
Jesus says his kingdom is “not of this world.” That says a great deal in itself and also by implication.
So far as the statement itself is concerned, it is a denial of the importance for Christ of those things that usually concern earthly monarchs. One concern is for geography. Kings rule a certain carefully defined territory. They protect that territory from others. When they fight, it is usually over this or other territory they wish to annex. But this is not Christ’s concern. His kingdom is not of this world. Another concern of this world’s rulers is with taxes. There has never been a kingdom without taxes. Taxes pay for the government, army, public works, and of course for the army of bureaucrats who collect the taxes and do a host of other things. But Christ’s concern is not with taxes. His kingdom is not of this world. This world’s princes are concerned with pomp and ceremony, prestige and privileges, acclaim. Not so Christ. It is of his kingdom as the hymn states:
For not with swords’ loud clashing,
Nor roll of stirring drums—
With deeds of love and mercy
The heav’nly kingdom comes.
It is not only in a negative way that this definition of the kingdom of God speaks to us, however. It also speaks by implication. Christ has said that his kingdom is not of this world. But if that is true, from whence does it come? If his kingship is not of this world, it is either from hell or from heaven.
There is a kingdom which is the kingdom of hell. We do not mean by this that somewhere in the universe there is a geographic territory known as hell over which Satan presides, along the lines John Milton painted in Paradise Lost. There is a geographical hell, just as there is a geographical heaven. But Satan does not rule there. God rules hell. That is what makes hell so horrible. On the other hand, this does not mean that there is not a satanic, hellish kingdom. On the contrary, there is; and it is this we are speaking about. It is of this kingdom that Jesus spoke when he referred to a kingdom being divided against itself and therefore being unable to stand (Mark 3:23–26). It is a “spiritual” kingdom founded on hate, pride, jealousy, anger, and cunning. It is the opposite of Christ’s kingdom at every point. Is this Christ’s source? Is this the source of his kingdom? We recall that the Pharisees thought so. Just before Christ’s words about Satan’s kingdom being divided against itself, they had said, “He is possessed by Beelzebub! By the prince of demons he is driving out demons” (Mark 3:22).
This is one logical explanation of the authority and kingship Christ so obviously possessed and demonstrated. But is it an adequate explanation? Can it explain the nature of Christ and the qualities of his rule? If it cannot—and who can seriously maintain that Christ’s character and ministry were demonic—then the source must be heaven and Christ must be the Son of God. Sheer logic forces any honest person to that position.
The same logic applies to Christ’s person. After you have disposed of the one truly impossible explanation of who Jesus is (that he is “a good man”), there are only three things that can be said of him. One, he is God, as he claimed. Two, he was crazy, for he mistakenly claimed to be God when he was not. Or three, he was a deceiver, for he knew he was not God, yet claimed to be God in order to gain a following through such deception. There are no other possibilities. The one who would face Christ honestly must decide among them. Is the Christ who has been proclaimed by so many throughout so many thousands of years of human history insane, a deceiver, or God? He cannot be put off with any nonsense about being a good teacher or a good man.
This was the dilemma Jesus put before everyone when in the Roman hall of judgment he said, “My kingdom is not of this world.” Rule out this world, where deception is all too universal and obvious, and there are only two possibilities left: hell or heaven. If you cannot say, “He is from hell,” then he is from heaven, and his kingdom is too. And whatever your opinion of it may be or whatever your wishes may be, you are his subject, and you are obliged to fall before him and confess him to be your Lord and your God.
When Jesus says, “My kingdom is not of this world,” many utter a sigh of relief and say, “Well, thank God that Jesus’ kingdom has nothing to do with us. It is a spiritual kingdom. Hallelujah! We can keep on as we have been and do as we please.” Nothing is farther from the truth, for when we say that Christ’s kingdom is not of this world, what we are really saying is that Christ’s kingdom is of heaven and therefore has an even greater claim over us than do the earthly kingdoms we know so well. There is real sovereignty in an earthly kingdom. There is genuine authority which we may not flout. But over these is Christ, and we flout his kingship not merely at the peril of our fortune and lives but at the peril of our eternal souls.
Why risk such loss? Why not come to this king and confess his lordship? He has promised to rule in justice and with mercy, and he has assured us that his yoke is easy and his burden is light.
Two Kingdoms
There is a third area where Christ’s words about his kingdom apply, and that is in their relationship to earthly powers, of which Pilate and the Roman Empire were examples. In modern American history there has been a tendency so to stress the legitimate principle of the separation of church and state that we have almost come to the point of saying that the church and state are not related to each other at all. This is wrong. Jesus deals with it not only in these verses, which speak of the nature of his kingdom, but also in the continuation of the discourse in chapter 19, in which the responsibility of Pilate over against the heavenly kingdom is stressed. In these later verses Pilate had begun to quiz Jesus again, and Jesus gave him no answer.
Pilate said, “Do you refuse to speak to me? Don’t you realize I have power either to free you or to crucify you?”
Jesus replied, “You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above. Therefore the one who handed me over to you is guilty of a greater sin” (19:10–11).
This reply speaks directly to the church/state problem. While it is true that the church and state each have their legitimate spheres of authority, and while it is also true that the church and state should have separate organizations, neither possessing the right to appoint officers or authorities in the other—nevertheless, it is not true that they are totally unrelated, for in many areas they have the same concerns, and both are responsible to the same divine sovereign.
Some have said, for example, that the Christian community should be so separated from the secular sphere that Christians should not go into politics, that believers in general should not vote in elections, that we should withdraw from the culture as much as possible, live in distinct communities, have Christians as friends exclusively, work for Christian companies, and so on. But Jesus refutes this when he says that his kingdom is not “of” the world. The key word is “of.” If he had said “in,” we would separate. But he said “of” and therefore means that we are to be actively “in” the world though not “of” it in terms of its values and goals. To turn to the other side, some have said that the state has nothing to do with the concerns of Christian people; that it is not in business to “regulate morality,” for example. But again this is wrong; for when Jesus reminded Pilate that his authority came from God, he was also reminding him that it was to be exercised in accord with the character of that one whose authority it is.
When the state develops and enforces laws against homicide, what is that but the legislation of morality? It is the state’s way of saying, “We agree that life is precious and that it is wrong to take it away. In this we support the sixth of God’s Ten Commandments.” Again, when the state makes laws against larceny and burglary, what is it doing but enforcing the eighth commandment? The same is true of its requirement of legal marriages, contracts, labor negotiations, and similar formalities in a hundred different areas. In each of these areas the state is dealing with morality. Jesus emphasized in his words to Pilate that the state is responsible for this before God, just as the church is responsible.
This is the significance of Christ’s mention of sin: “Therefore, the one who handed me over to you is guilty of a greater sin.” Sin is a transgression of the law of God and is therefore punishable by God and will be punished by him. So Jesus was telling Pilate, “Your sin may not be as great as those who have hated me and turned me over to you. But their sin does not excuse your sin. You are still a sinner, and you will be judged for it.”
Entering Christ’s Kingdom
The final point Jesus made about his kingdom is that it is not entered into by secular means. The heavenly kingdom and the earthly kingdom overlap at some points, but not here. The same person may be in both; the emperor can also be a Christian. In some areas they have corresponding concerns. But they are nevertheless different kingdoms and are entered differently.
Jesus spelled this out in two ways. In one of the beatitudes of the Sermon on the Mount he indicated the manner in which we must enter, saying, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 5:3). This does not mean, “Blessed are the poor-spirited” or “Blessed are failures.” To be poor in spirit is the opposite of being rich in pride. It means to be humble. So Christ’s first requirement for entering his kingdom is to humble yourself and take up the position of a suppliant before him. It is to pray with the publican, “God be merciful to me, a sinner.”
Second, in his words before Pilate Jesus shows that this also has a positive dimension in the area of our response to his truth. Humility is a prerequisite, but it does not produce salvation in and of itself. Rather, we must also respond to that truth that Jesus came to earth to communicate. It consists in this: that Jesus is God, that he died on our behalf, and that those who have nothing to present to God in terms of their own merit nevertheless can come boldly to God on the merit of Jesus.
Boice, J. M. (2005). The Gospel of John: an expositional commentary (pp. 1426–1438). Baker Books.
- Jesus answered, My kingship is not of this world. If my kingship were of this world, my attendants would have been fighting in order to keep me from being handed over to the Jews, but now my kingship does not spring from that source.
The question, “What have you done?” Jesus does not answer. Let Pilate enter into the charges that have been preferred against this prisoner. Anything in addition to this is surely “out of order.”
In his answer, therefore, Jesus goes back to Pilate’s question recorded in verse 33: “Are you the king of the Jews?” The way has been paved so that all is now clear for the answer to this question. Pilate has indicated that not he but the Jewish nation and the Sanhedrin charged Jesus with political conspiracy. It is now up to Jesus to explain the nature of his kingship.
The answer which Jesus gives is threefold:
First, he shows that he realizes that back of the question, “Are you the king of the Jews?” there lies another, still more fundamental, namely, “Are you a king in any sense whatever?” The answer to this question is implied in verse 36, for when Jesus now says, “My kingship is not of this world,” he implies, of course, that he is a king! The same answer is expressed in verse 37: “You say that I am a king.”
Secondly, Jesus indicates what his kingship is not, namely, it is not of this world (verse 36).
Thirdly, he shows what his kingship is, namely, it is a kingship in the hearts and lives of all those who listen to the truth (verse 37).
To begin with the first: “My kingship,” says Jesus, with emphasis on my. He is a king, then. That the term here means kingship, not kingdom, is clear from the fact that according to verse 37 it consists of Christ’s rule in the hearts of those who obey him. We are dealing, therefore, with a spiritual-dominion concept. For the use of the word in that “abstract” sense see also Luke 1:33; 22:29; Rev. 12:10. The term in the sense of kingship, rule, has its root in the Old Testament (Ps. 103:19; 145:13; Dan. 4:3, 25; also—a different word—Ps. 22:28; Obad. 21; and again a different term in 1 Chron. 29:11).
However, here in 18:36, 37 it does not have reference to God’s dominion (hence, also the dominion of the second person of the Trinity) over all his creatures, but distinctly to Christ’s spiritual kingship in the hearts and lives of his followers.
Secondly, then, the kingship of Jesus is not like an earthly kingship. It does not spring from the earth: it was not given to him by any earthly power, and it is totally different in character. Thus, for example, it does not employ earthly means. If Christ’s kingship had been earthly in origin and character, he would have had officers (“underlings”)—just like the Sanhedrin, for instance, which had its police-force, and just like Pilate, who had his Roman guards—, and these would have been fighting, so that he would not have been handed over to … here we probably expect “the Romans,” but Jesus says, “the Jews!” Far from trying to lead the Jews in a revolt against the Romans, Jesus considers these Jews his opponents. Have they not delivered him up to Pilate? Had Christ’s kingship been of an earthly kind, his attendants would have been fighting, under his own command, so that in Gethsemane he would not have been handed over to the Jews and their wicked Sanhedrin! But instead of ordering them to fight in his defence, he had done the exact opposite (see on 18:10, 11).
Hendriksen, W., & Kistemaker, S. J. (1953–2001). Exposition of the Gospel According to John (Vol. 2, pp. 408–409). Baker Book House.














