Why Did Jesus Have to Die?
Roman, Jewish, and Christian Perspectives
Click here for an updated and complete version of this series.
by Rev. Dr. Mark D. Roberts
Copyright © 2010 by Mark D. Roberts and Beliefnet
Note: You may download this resource at no cost, for personal use, for use in a Christian ministry, or for use in an educational venture, as long as you are not publishing it for sale. All I ask is that you give credit to this website: http://blog.beliefnet.com/markdroberts/. For all other uses, please contact me at mark@markdroberts.com. Thank you.
Introduction
As we approach the season of Lent, and then Holy Week and Easter, I propose to consider the question: “Why did Jesus have to die?” At the outset, I must say that this isn’t an easy question to answer for several reasons. Let me mention three.
First, when it comes to the death of Jesus, we’re dealing with an historical event concerning which we have limited historical sources. We don’t have some of the sources that would make our task much easier, the diary of Pontius Pilate, for example, or notes from the proceedings of the Jewish council that examined Jesus prior to his crucifixion. Therefore, when I try to explain why Pilate or certain Jewish leaders believed that Jesus had to die, I’ll have to extrapolate from the evidence that is available to us. I do believe, however, that this evidence, both in the New Testament Gospels and in other ancient sources, is strong enough to allow us to formulate likely hypotheses concerning Roman and Jewish motivations for the crucifixion of Jesus.
Second, the question of why Jesus was put to death is a matter of considerable scholarly disagreement. For centuries it was common to put all the blame on “the Jews.” But the horror of the Holocaust combined with new historical insights has led scholars in almost completely the opposite direction. Many claim that “the Jews,” even Jewish leaders, had little or nothing to do with the death of Jesus. In my opinion, as you’ll see, the pendulum that had once swung way too far in the direction of “the Jews” has now swung too far back in the opposite “Romans only” direction. I’ll have more to say about this later.
I should add at this point that I am aware of the shameful history of anti-Semitism and the danger of anti-Semitism that is very much alive today. This does make it tricky to deal with the historical evidence in a straightforward way, because if one concludes that some Jews were somewhat responsible for the death of Jesus, this might fuel anti-Semitic attitudes and actions. So, I will say at the outset that nothing in the historical record justifies hatred of or mistreat of Jews, or any other people, for that matter.
Third, there is not one, simple, obvious answer to the question of why Jesus had to die. From a historical point of view, we have to deal with at least two perspectives, Roman and Jewish. In fact, I’ll show that there was more than one Jewish point of view on Jesus’ death. So it is really too simple to speak of “the Jewish perspective” on the necessity of Jesus’ death.
Furthermore, historical explanation doesn’t exhaust the realm of discourse when it comes to the reason for Jesus’ death. We also need to deal with the whole area of theology. We’ll want to know why, in light of his understanding of God, Jesus himself believed that he needed to die. Moreover, we must also examine early Christian thinking concerning why Jesus’ death was necessary for the salvation of the world. In the end, therefore, the answer to the simple question “Why did Jesus have to die?” will be anything but simple. It will have multiple layers and nuances.
Nevertheless, this is a task well worth the effort, both in the writing and in the reading. No matter what you think about Jesus, you will help yourself and your world if you’re able to discuss his death intelligently. This is especially true given the tendency of this conversation to become terribly anti-Semitic. In a world where hatred of Jews is on the increase, all thoughtful, compassionate human beings need to be informed about just who was responsible for the death of Jesus and why.
Finally, if, like me, you believe that the crucifixion of Jesus stands at the very center of history, then knowing why Jesus had to die is just about the most important bit of knowledge you can have.
In my next post I’ll lay out some basic parameters for the rest of this series: how I’m going to structure the series and some of the foundational facts upon which I’ll build the structure.
Where Do We Start When Considering the Death of Jesus? Some Basic Facts
Where should we start in our effort to discover why Jesus had to die? I propose to begin with some basic historical facts, facts that are affirmed by almost every historian and biblical scholar, even those who approach this question from a highly critical and skeptical starting point. So what are these facts:
Jesus was crucified. There were many ways in the first-century for a criminal to be put to death, including stoning, beheading, being torn apart by beasts, etc. Yet all the earliest sources attest to the crucifixion of Jesus. These sources include, in addition to the New Testament writings, the Jewish historian Josephus (Antiquities 18.3.3, A.D. 95) and the Roman historian Tacitus (Annals 15.44, A.D. 109)(Photo: Painting by El Greco, “The Crucifixion,” 1596-1600)Jesus was crucified during the governorship and under the authority of Pontius Pilate. Once again, this basic fact is confirmed in Josephus and Tacitus in addition to the New Testament.
Pilate placed a sign on Jesus’ cross that read “The King of the Jews.” This fact is found in all four New Testament Gospels and in some later non-canonical gospels as well. This “title” helps to explain the nature of the charges against Jesus.
Jesus was crucified in Jerusalem on or near the Jewish feast of Passover. Again, all New Testament Gospels agree on these basic facts, and there is every reason to believe that they are accurate (though the precise timing of Jesus’ death in relationship to Passover is hard to pin down).
These basic facts, though apparently obvious and unspectacular, will actually prove to be very helpful as we try to figure out the reasons for Jesus’ death.
As I mentioned in my previous post, the question “Why did Jesus have to die?” doesn’t have a simple answer. I propose to address this question from four different perspectives:
• Roman: Why did Pontius Pilate think Jesus had to die?• Jewish: Why did some Jewish leaders think Jesus had to die?
• Jesus: Why did Jesus himself think that he had to die?
• Early Christian: Why did early Christians think Jesus had to die?
In my next post I’ll begin with the Roman perspective.
Click here for an updated and complete version of this series.
The fact that Jesus was crucified rather than stoned, hanged, or killed in some other way means that the Romans were ultimately responsible for his death. Of course this is clear in the biblical gospels. But even if we lacked such primary sources, the simple fact that a man was crucified in Jerusalem around A.D. 30 implies that, for some reason or other, he was condemned by Roman authorities. Jews in the first-century A.D. didn’t crucify people. This horrible means of execution was the prerogative of the Romans, who used it with chilling effect.
The Roman Practice of Crucifixion
If we want to know why a Roman authority, in this case, the prefect Pontius Pilate, would choose to crucify someone, we might look first at the Roman practice of crucifixion in general. Although Rome didn’t invent this means of execution, the nation perfected it as one of the most horrible means of putting criminals to death. In fact, not all Roman convicts sentenced to death were crucified. Crucifixion was reserved for the lowest of the low, and most of all for those who openly opposed Roman power. Commit a serious crime and Rome might cut off your head; rebel against Roman rule or upset Roman peace and you might be headed to a cross. I say “might be” because Roman citizens were protected from crucifixion, unless they happened to be treasonous soldiers. (Photo: The Via Appia in Rome. When the slave Spartacus led a rebellion against Rome in 73-71 B.C., the Romans finally prevailed. They crucified 6,000 men, stringing them along the Via Appia for 120 miles, from Rome to Capua.)
Why was crucifixion so horrible? For one thing, the victim experienced some of the most extreme pain that a person can experience and the duration of suffering often lasted several days. But, even beyond personal suffering, the crucified person experienced extreme shame in a world that valued honor supremely. Contrary to most portrayals of Jesus’ death, those sentenced to crucifixion were naked when attached to the cross, in full view of the masses.
The Romans made every effort to crucify people in public places, such as along major thoroughfares. The point was to augment the dishonor and suffering of the one being killed, not to mention his family and colleagues. (It seems, by the way, that the Romans did not crucify women.) As the Roman rhetorician Quintilian explained, “Whenever we crucify the guilty, the most crowded roads are chosen, where most people can see and be moved by this fear. For penalties relate not so much to retribution as to their exemplary effect” (Quintilian, Declamations 274). Thus the point of crucifixion was not only punishment, but also deterrence.
Not surprisingly, the Romans crucified Jews when they rebelled against imperial rule. I’ll examine a couple of telling instances in my next post.
In my last post I began to examine the Roman practice of crucifixion, arguing that if we want to understand why a Roman governor had Jesus crucified, we should first understand why Rome used crucifixion in general. What we discovered was that crucifixion, in addition to being an extremely horrific punishment of criminals, was thought to be an effective deterrent against sedition. “Watch someone get crucified for challenging our authority,” the Romans believed, “and you’ll be unlikely to challenge our authority yourself.” If you’ve seen The Passion of the Christ, you can certainly understand Roman logic here. Crucifixion was cruel beyond cruel.
Roman Crucifixion Among the Jews
Even the threat of crucifixion didn’t completely squelch attempts to overthrow Roman rule, however, least of all among the Jews. Shortly after the death of Herod the Great in 4 B.C., thousands of Jews sought to toss the Romans out of Judea. Of course the Romans didn’t take kindly to this, sending an army to squash the rebellion. When the rebels fled into the country, the Roman general Varus pursued them. The first-century Jewish historian Josephus describes what happened next:
Upon this, Varus sent a part of his army into the country, to seek out those that had been the authors of the revolt; and when they were discovered, he punished some of them that were most guilty, and some he dismissed: now the number of those that were crucified on this account were two thousand. (Antiquities 17.10.10)
Two thousand rebels crucified at one time! Now that would surely give restless Jews second thoughts before challenging Roman tyranny again. (Photo: The Arch of Titus in Rome, which celebrates the Roman victory over the Jews in A.D. 70.)
Seven decades later, thousands upon thousands of Jews revolted against Roman rule. For a short time they appeared to have prevailed. But, once again, Rome sent a superior military force to Judea. Soon the Jews were trapped in Jerusalem, surrounded by the Roman army besieging the city. Recognizing their hopeless condition, some Jews actually tried to escape, but to no avail. According to Josephus, when they were caught, “they were first whipped, and then tormented with all sorts of tortures before they died, and were then crucified before the wall of the city” (Jewish War, 5.11.1). This happened to at least 500 people daily, according to Josephus. So disgusting was the mass torture of Jewish prisoners that even the Roman General Titus felt pity on them. But he let the brutality continue. Why? Josephus explains: “The main reason why he did not forbid that cruelty was this, that he hoped the Jews might perhaps yield at that sight, out of fear lest they might themselves afterwards be liable to the same cruel treatment” (Jewish War, 5.11.1).
To conclude what we have learned about Romans and crucifixion, Rome reserved crucifixion for the worst of criminals, especially for those who stirred up rebellion against the state. Because the point of crucifixion, beyond punishment, was deterrence, crosses were placed in public places so people would learn to fear the wrath of Rome. When Jews challenged Roman authority, they, like others rebels against Rome, were crucified if caught.
But is this relevant of the case of Jesus? Did Jesus challenge Roman authority such that Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor of Judea in the time of Jesus, believed he must be crucified? Does what we have learned about Roman crucifixion help to explain Jesus’ own death? To these questions I’ll turn in my next post.
Introduction to Pontius Pilate
If we’re going to understand the Roman perspective on the death of Jesus, we need to know something of the Roman man who was legally responsible for his crucifixion: Pontius Pilate. Traditionally, Pilate has been seen by Christians in relatively positive terms, as one who really didn’t want to crucify Jesus but who did so because he was compelled to by the Jewish leaders and crowds. This image of Pilate, that seems to emerge from the New Testament gospels, doesn’t fit with what we know about Pontius Pilate from historical sources, including the gospels themselves. Let me survey this evidence briefly.
Pontius Pilate was the governor of Judea from 26-37 A.D. An inscription discovered in the ruins of a Roman theater in Caesarea reveals that Pilate’s official Roman title was “prefect” (Latin, praefectus). In this role he was ultimately responsible for all matters in Judea, including judicial and financial affairs. Pilate governed from the provincial capital of Judea, Caesarea (Maratima), a city on the Mediterranean coast, about 75 miles northwest of Jerusalem. He would make the trip to Jerusalem only when necessary. Pilate was accountable to the governor of Syria, through whom he was ultimately subservient to the Roman Emperor. (Photo: This inscription identifies Pontius Pilate as the [Praef]ectus Iuda[eae]).
Pilate does not figure prominently in first-century Roman histories, a fact that suggests that he was a relatively insignificant leader. Moreover, the assignment to govern Judea was no plum, and some of those who served in Pilate’s position were known to complain about it. Not only was it potentially a dead-end job, but also it was fraught with complications.
The complications had largely to do with what the Romans would see as the peculiarities and propensities of the Jews. The peculiarities were, by and large, Jewish religious sensibilities that put them at odds with Roman norms. Jews, for example, did not follow the Roman model in welcoming all sorts of gods into their pantheon. On the contrary, Jews would die for their belief in one and only one God. Jewish propensities had to do with general unrest and fairly regular attempts by some Jews to rebel against Roman rule. When one became prefect of Judea, one could expect trouble.
Pilate’s inability (or unwillingness) to respect Jewish sensibilities is seen in an event recorded by the Jewish historian Josephus (Antiquities 18.3.1). Unlike previous governors, when Pilate took charge, he brought images of Caesar into Jerusalem in order to display them. This enraged the Jewish population, who took this as a violation of their law and as an insult. Multitudes of people traveled to Caesarea in order to ask Pilate to remove the images. At first he refused and, when the petitioners persisted, he was prepared to kill them. But when they showed themselves willing to die rather than have their laws violated, Pilate finally relented. In another instance when he offended Jewish sensibilities, Pilate did not show mercy, and those who protested were slaughtered by soldiers under Pilate’s command (Antiquities, 18.3.2).
The New Testament actually confirms this picture of a cruel Pilate. In Luke 13:1 we read, “At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices.” We don’t know anything else about this incident. But it appears that, for some reason, Pilate killed some Galileans who had come to the Jerusalem temple in order to offer sacrifices to God. Yet, not only did Pilate have them killed, he also had their own blood mingled with the blood of the animals they had sacrificed. Talk about adding insult to injury!
The first-century Jewish philosopher Philo of Alexandria once wrote a letter to Caesar, in which, among other things, he complained about the harshness of Pontius Pilate. Philo blames Pilate explicitly for: “briberies, insults, robberies, outrages, wanton injustices, constantly repeated executions without trial, and ceaseless and grievous cruelty.” (Legatio ad Gaium, 301-302). Even granting Philo’s bias against Pilate, this text doesn’t reflect well upon Pilate’s governorship. In the end, he was removed from office by the Syrian governor, Vitellius, though we don’t know exactly why.
But what about the image of Pilate as the reflective leader who is reticent to kill Jesus, and who even converses with Jesus about the nature of truth? I’ll address this picture in greater detail later. But for now, I’d simply observe that the gospel accounts of Jesus’ trial can be read as confirming the negative image of Pilate.
Pilate’s ultimate responsibility was to oversee Judean affairs, to squash outright rebellion, to keep the tax money flowing to Rome, and, in general, to preserve the fragile peace of the region. And it is this, which, above all, seemed to be at risk when Jesus came to Jerusalem around the feast of Passover. In my next post in this series I’ll examine the peculiar dynamics of Jerusalem in the time of the festival.
The Roman Perspective, Part 4
As I explained in my last post, Pontius Pilate, the prefect of Judea during the time of Jesus, governed his territory from Caesarea, a city on the Mediterranean sea about 75 miles northwest of Jerusalem. Immediate authority over Jerusalem itself he had delegated to Caiaphas, whom Pilate had appointed high priest of the Jewish temple.
Pilate and the Danger of Passover
But, each year during his tenure in Judea, Pilate journeyed to Jerusalem in the spring. He wanted to be in this city during the Jewish celebration of Passover. It’s not that he had any fondness for the Jews and their rituals. Rather, Pilate needed to be in Jerusalem at this time to preserve order. He didn’t trust Caiaphas with such an important task at such a volatile time.
The Passover was, after all, a festival in which Jews remembered how God had delivered them from foreign domination. During the celebration of the Passover meal they not only thanked God for his deliverance in the past, but also prayed for him to do so again. Thus the Passover itself could easily inspire anti-Roman feelings, if not outright rebellion.
Moreover, the population of Jerusalem swelled greatly during the festival. Though it’s difficult to determine precisely the population of Jerusalem during the time of Roman rule, 35,000 wouldn’t be too far off base. During the Passover, however, this number swelled by a figure of ten or more. Josephus reports that 2,000,000 to 3,000,000 people gathered in the city for the festival (Jewish War, 2.14.3, 6.9.3). While most scholars believe that Josephus exaggerated, his estimates testify to the large number of pilgrims who came to Jerusalem for Passover. A more conservative estimate would be in the 300,000-400,000 range. Pilate knew that crowds of Jews jammed together in a small area was a formula for disaster. (Photo: A picture of a crowd in Jerusalem, gathered by the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in 1989.)
Given the themes of Passover and the massive temporary population of Jerusalem, it’s easy to see why Pilate felt it necessary to come to the city and why he would have done so with trepidation. Pilate was well aware of the fact that Jerusalem was a powder keg ready to blow during Passover. In fact, Josephus, talking about an earlier ruler who had tyrannized the Jews, mentions that “the nation of the Jews made an insurrection against him at a festival; for at those feasts seditions are generally begun” (Jewish War, 1.4.3, emphasis added).
Pilate didn’t come to Jerusalem unprepared. To help keep the peace, he brought with him a few thousand Roman soldiers from Syria. But, even then, the odds would not be in his favor if the Jews decided to stir up rebellion, since the soldiers were outnumbered by a factor of at least one hundred to one.
Given the tenuous peace of Jerusalem, Pilate must have been greatly distressed by early reports about Jesus’ actions in Jerusalem. This popular prophet from Nazareth had been welcomed into the city by a crowd of his followers who hailed him as a conquering king. Then, Jesus created a ruckus in the Jewish temple, even prohibiting sacrifices from being offered for several hours. So, while Pilate might have smirked to think of the distress this had given Caiaphas, nevertheless he’d be worried. What was Jesus’ agenda? What had he come to Jerusalem to do? Was he seditious? Was he fomenting rebellion against Rome? Pilate’s initial strategy was to watch and wait. Maybe, just maybe, he’d be lucky, and the Passover would conclude without incident. Then Jesus would go back to Galilee where he came from, and Pilate would return to Caesarea, where he could govern Judea a safe distance away from the time bomb of Jerusalem.
Pilate’s hopes for an uneventful Passover were dashed when, early on Friday morning, the problem posed by Jesus of Nazareth exploded in his face. In my next post, I’ll examine more closely Pilate’s interaction with Jesus and his accusers.
In my last two posts in this series on the death of Jesus, I offered a picture of Pontius Pilate and described the unique dangers he faced in Jerusalem during the Jewish celebration of Passover. In light of this background, today I’ll examine the biblical account of Pilate’s interaction with Jewish leaders.
Pilate’s Encounter with Jesus and the Jewish Leaders
Early on Friday morning, after Jesus of Nazareth had entered Jerusalem, Pontius Pilate was awakened by a group of Jewish leaders who had brought Jesus to him with the intention of having Jesus crucified. They accused Jesus of “perverting our nation, forbidding us to pay taxes to the emperor, and saying that he himself is the Messiah, a king” (Luke 23:2). When Pilate questioned Jesus, the accused was strangely quiet. Finally the governor cut to the chase. “Are you the king of the Jews?” he asked. “You say so,” was all Jesus said in reply (Luke 23:3). When Pilate mentioned to the Jewish leaders that their charges against Jesus weren’t persuasive, they added, “He stirs up the people by teaching throughout all Judea, from Galilee where he began even to this place” (Luke 23:5). It’s likely that this was not news to Pilate, who had probably been following the unusual exploits of Jesus for some time. Roman governors kept an eye out for Jewish prophets who announced the coming of God’s kingdom. (Photo: Mihály Munkácsy, Christ in front of Pilate, 1881.)
Once the Jewish leaders had brought Jesus to Pilate, the question of his fate lay in the governor’s hands. Certainly he could follow the recommendation of the leaders, including the high priest, Caiaphas, whom he had appointed. But killing Jesus had a considerable downside. Pilate was surely aware of Jesus’ popularity among the people. He might even have known before Friday that the Jewish leaders were trying to do away with Jesus, but were reticent to do so because he was so popular with the people. Killing Jesus might well have incited the people to riot (Mark 14:2), something neither the Jewish officials nor Pilate would have wanted. If Pilate were perceived by the people as the one responsible for the death of their popular prophet, then he might end up causing a ruckus or even a revolt that could very well lead to his own downfall.
Yet Pilate would surely have preferred to get Jesus out of the way somehow. Though he was not seditious in the ordinary sense – Jesus carried no weapons, organized no army, and had not assaulted any Roman authorities – nevertheless the Nazarene was clearly a rabble-rouser from Pilate’s point of view. And even if he didn’t explicitly espouse the overthrow of Rome, he certainly flirted with the seditious language of kingship.
Two other factors contributed to Pilate’s reticence to execute Jesus. First, his interaction with Jesus convinced him that the Galilean was no ordinary insurrectionist. It’s hard to reconstruct from the Gospel accounts exactly what Pilate thought of Jesus. If he truly believed him to be innocent and no threat to Rome, then it’s unlikely that he would have had Jesus crucified. But, Pilate must have seen that Jesus was in a completely different league from the others he had crucified. (Of course I’m aware that Christian tradition paints Pilate as a truth-seeker who genuinely believes in Jesus’ innocence. But this image doesn’t fit what we know about Pilate from history, not to mention the indisputable fact that Pilate himself was, in the end, responsible for Jesus’ death. It’s very hard to imagine that Pilate was bullied, either by Jewish leaders or by the mob, into doing something that he really didn’t want to do. I believe that many of the statements in the gospels that seem to reflect the “noble Pilate” were in fact originally spoken by the governor in order to incite the Jews to accept greater responsibility for Jesus’ death, thus exonerating Pilate in the eyes of the people. Or, in other cases, I believe Pilate’s tone was ironic or sarcastic. When he asked Jesus, “What is truth?” Pilate wasn’t beginning a philosophical dialogue, but simply mocking Jesus, who had just spoken of “belonging to the truth” (John 18:37-38).
The second factor that contributed to Pilate’s reticence to execute Jesus was a recommendation from his wife that he should “have nothing to do with” Jesus. Pilate’s wife claimed to have “suffered a great deal because of a dream about him” (Matthew 27:19). Pilate, like most pagans, was in all likelihood quite superstitious, and his wife’s nightmare would have spooked him as well.
From Pilate’s perspective, what would have been the best outcome of this whole mess? Somehow get Jesus to stop causing trouble, but without inciting the people to riot. If silencing Jesus required his death, then so be it, but let it be someone else’s fault other than Pilate’s. If Jesus could be shut down by some other means – like flogging – then this would also be an acceptable option.
In my next post I’ll finish explaining the necessity of Jesus’ death from the Roman perspective of Pontius Pilate.
The Roman Perspective, Part 6
In my last post I began to describe Pontius Pilate’s predicament on the Friday morning after Jesus had entered Jerusalem. The problematic prophet had been brought to Pilate by several Jewish leaders who demanded that he be crucified. But, for reasons I outlined previously, Pilate was reticent. Most of all, he didn’t want to incite the crowds who had gathered in Jerusalem for Passover. Silencing Jesus was a fine idea, but, from Pilate’s perspective, it had to be done in a why that protected him from the wrath of the Jewish people.
Pilate’s Decision to Have Jesus Crucified
Pilate tried passing the buck. He told the Jewish leaders to judge Jesus themselves, but they averred that they couldn’t execute him (John 18:31-32). He said, perhaps sarcastically, that they should go ahead and crucify him themselves (John 19:6-7), even though Pilate knew that crucifixion was legal only under Roman authority. At one point during the “trial” of Jesus, Pilate tried to pass the buck to Herod Antipas, who, as Tetrarch over Galilee, had the legal right to put Jesus to death. But Herod didn’t grab the bait. Instead, he used his meeting with Jesus as an occasion to mock him (Luke 23:6-12). (Photo: Nicolaes Maes, “Christ Before Pilate,” c. 1670.)
When the responsibility for Jesus’ fate fell back upon Pilate’s shoulders, he preferred to take the course of least resistance: have Jesus flogged, which would surely silence him for a while, and which, Pilate hoped, would keep the people from going on a rampage. But many of the Jewish leaders, combined with a mob that gathered outside of Pilate’s headquarters, pressed for Jesus’ crucifixion. Three factors seemed to have persuaded Pilate that executing Jesus was the best course of action. First, his reticence to kill Jesus appeared to put his loyalty to the emperor in doubt (John 19:12). Even the slightest appearance of imperial disloyalty could have terminal implications for Pilate. Second, the Jews who had gathered in his courtyard, although a tiny percentage of the current population of Jerusalem, were fervent enough in their desire for Jesus’ death that Pilate believed he could convincingly lay the blame on them. Third, his reticence to crucify Jesus was itself starting to cause a riot, which was the very thing Pilate was attempting to avoid by not executing Jesus (Matt 27:24). So his primary motivation for keeping Jesus alive – maintenance of order – was no longer valid. Jesus had to die.
In sentencing Jesus to death, Pilate revealed himself to be devious, if not spineless. He sent Jesus to the cross. The responsibility for this decision was his – at least from a legal-historical point of view. Yet when announcing Jesus’ fate, Pilate tried to avoid taking responsibility for his action. Symbolically washing his hands in front of the crowd, he said, “I am innocent of this man’s blood” (Matthew 27:24). Of course this wasn’t true. No matter now much others might have urged Pilate to take Jesus’ life, in the end, he and he alone had the authority to make that fateful decision.
The fact that Pilate had Jesus crucified strongly suggests that he saw Jesus as a threat to Roman order. Though not your ordinary brigand or revolutionary, Jesus proclaimed the kingdom of God (not Caesar) and accepted adulation as a messianic (kingly) figure. Moreover, even if his answers to Pilate were minimal, Jesus didn’t reject the charge that he claimed to be king of the Jews. So, even though Jesus wasn’t your run-of-the-mill Zealot, he was still the sort of person who was dangerous to Rome, and was therefore worthy of death, at least from the Roman point of view.
Pilate’s legal justification for crucifying Jesus appeared on the sign attached to Jesus’ cross: “The King of the Jews.” The wording and placement of this sign tells us much about Pilate’s ultimate motivation for killing Jesus. On the one hand, Jesus was being crucified because he dared to make a claim to kingship. On the other, by identifying the crucified Jesus as “King of the Jews,” Pilate was mocking Jesus, the Jewish people, and their kingdom aspirations – all in one ironic statement. In a manner consistent with what we know about Pilate from other sources, he was saying, “Here you go, you Jews. Here is your king – beaten to a pulp, powerless, a victim of superior Roman power.” Furthermore, by crucifying Jesus, Pilate also held him up as a persuasive deterrent: “Next time you think about having someone other than Caesar as your king, remember the crucifixion of Jesus, the King of the Jews.”
Why Did Jesus Have to Die? The Roman Perspective: Conclusion
From a Roman perspective, why did Jesus have to die?
• Because he disturbed Roman order.
• Because he spoke seditiously of a coming kingdom other than that of Caesar.
• Because he allowed himself to be called “King of the Jews.”
• Because he made a nuisance of himself at the wrong time (Passover), in the wrong
place (Jerusalem), in the presence of the wrong people (Pilate and the temple
leadership under his command).
• Because his crucifixion would be a powerful deterrent that might keep other Jews from
following in his footsteps.
In my next post I’ll begin to look at the death of Jesus from one Jewish perspective.
One Jewish Perspective, Part 1
Placing This Conversation in Context
Before I proceed to discuss one Jewish perspective on the necessity of Jesus’ death, I must say a bit about the contemporary context for this conversation. For centuries, many Christians hated Jews. Part of the Christians’ justification for their hatred was their belief that “the Jews killed Christ.” Even though Jesus himself had called his followers to love their enemies, somehow the belief that “the Jews killed Christ” justified a very un-Christ-like hatred of all Jews. This sort of twisted reasoning contributed to the unspeakable horror of the Holocaust, in which over six million Jews were murdered by the Nazis.
The ugly history of anti-Semitism makes it difficult to talk objectively about Jewish involvement in the death of Jesus. If one suggests that some Jews were in some way responsible for Jesus’ death, this person runs the risk of being labeled anti-Semitic. When I was in graduate school, I was encouraged to ask all sorts of creative and critical questions about early Christian history. But when it came to the death of Jesus, there was an unspoken rule that prohibited even discussing the possibility of some Jewish responsibility for the death of Jesus. The party line was that the Romans killed Jesus for their own reasons and that the early Christians made up the parts of the passion narrative that implicate Jews. The Christians did so, we were told, partly because they weren’t getting along with Jews during the latter half of the first-century A.D., and partly because they wanted to improve their relationship with the Roman Empire. This theory – filled with more holes than Swiss cheese – was something my colleagues and I were not welcome to examine critically. It was simply off limits. The painful history of anti-Semitism required that the history of early Christianity be told in a certain way, whether it actually happened that way or not. (Photo: Anti-Semitic graffiti in Lithuania in 2005.)
Therefore, before I discuss Jewish involvement in the death of Jesus, I must say three things quite clearly:
1. Anti-Semitism is wrong. From a Christian perspective, it is a sin. No matter who was actually responsible for the death of Jesus, there is no excuse for anti-Semitism. It’s something that Christians and all sensible people should oppose.
2. Even if “the Jews” were completely responsible for Jesus’ death (which I’ve already shown to be false, given the involvement of Pontius Pilate), this would in no way justify anti-Semitism today.
3. Even if a Christian considered “the Jews” to be his or her enemies, that Christian would be compelled by the very words of Jesus to love the Jews, not to hate them.
4. Anti-Semitism is alive and well today (or, alive and sick, perhaps). All moral people, including Christians, should reject and oppose it. Anti-Semitism is morally wrong, unjustifiable, and unchristian.
As you can infer from this introduction, I am going to argue that some Jews were involved in the crucifixion of Jesus, and that they believed that Jesus had to die. But, I think it’s historically incorrect to speak of “The Jewish Perspective” on the necessity of Jesus’ death. If we wish to be accurate, we must talk in terms of “One Jewish Perspective” on the question: “Why did Jesus have to die?” I’ll explain what I mean in my next post.
One Jewish Perspective, Part 2
Why “One” Jewish Perspective?
As a young Christian, I had a clear picture of what happened to Jesus in the last week of his life. This picture resulted from my knowledge of the Gospels, and, to a great extent, from images I had seen in Sunday School booklets and filmstrips. My mind had been impressed with scenes of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, of his “trial” before Pilate, and of his being assaulted by Jewish leaders. These images led me to believe that Jerusalem in the time of Jesus was a relatively small town inhabited by a relatively small number of Jews, and that the same Jews who had welcomed Jesus into town as a king on Sunday had turned against him on Friday. From my juvenile viewpoint, “the Jews” of Jerusalem had, as a single group, both hailed Jesus and then condemned him. Since only a few close disciples supported Jesus until the bitter end, it would have seemed appropriate to me to speak of “the” Jewish perspective on why Jesus had to die. (Photo: Jesus on Palm Sunday in a classic film version of his life. For the other side of the story, check out this video from Vintage 21 Church.)
I no longer believe that my youthful picture of Jesus’ last week was historically accurate, though I do believe that the New Testament Gospels provide historically reliable viewpoints on what really happened that week. For one thing, the actual scale of life in Jerusalem was far greater than anything I had imagined. As I explained earlier in this series, it’s likely that the normal population of Jerusalem in the time of Jesus was around 35,000. But during the festival of Passover the population swelled to eight or ten times that number, perhaps even more.
This means, among other things, that a tiny percentage of the overall population of Jerusalem actually welcomed Jesus into the city on Palm Sunday or called for his crucifixion early on Good Friday. Since scholars cannot agree on the precise location of Pilate’s headquarters, we cannot say definitively how many people might have gathered in his courtyard to call for Jesus’ death. This number is probably less than 500, possibly quite a bit less. What this means, therefore, is that something like .2% of the Jews in Jerusalem were demonstrably eager to have Jesus crucified.
But, one might object, perhaps this tiny percentage represented the majority. This objection is unlikely for three reasons:
First, we know from the Gospels that Jesus was, for the most part, very popular among the masses (for example, Matt 4:25; 8:1; 9:8; 12:15; 13:2; 14:14; 15:30; 20:29; 21:8).Second, we also know that the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem who wanted to have Jesus killed hesitated precisely because Jesus was so popular among the masses there (Matt 21:46). Nothing in the Gospel records suggests that this popularity ended magically by Good Friday.
Third, in fact the Gospel records suggest that large numbers of Jews were deeply distressed by the death of Jesus. For example, as Jesus was walking along the Via Dolorosa, Luke tells us that “A great number of the people followed him, and among them were women who were beating their breasts and wailing for him” (Luke 23:27). Then, after Jesus was crucified, the crowds who “saw what had taken place, . . . returned home, beating their breasts” (Luke 24:48). In other words, vast numbers of Jews were horrified by the death of Jesus.
Thus it’s historically accurate to speak, not of “the” Jewish perspective on the necessity of Jesus’ death, but of several diverse Jewish perspectives. It’s quite likely that the majority of Jews in Jerusalem did not want Jesus killed at all. But the perspective that had greatest impact on the fate of Jesus was that of Caiaphas and other principal leaders of Jerusalem. This is the “one” perspective I’ll begin to examine in my next post.
One Jewish Perspective, Part 3
The Perspective of Jewish Leaders in Jerusalem
Although the majority of Jews in Jerusalem may not have wanted Jesus to die, or may have had no opinion either way, some of the most influential Jews did see Jesus’ death as necessary. All four New Testament Gospels testify to the key role of the “chief priests” and other Jewish leaders in the effort to have Jesus crucified. The chief priests included the high priest Caiaphas, who was appointed by Pilate, and other priests who provided leadership, not only for the temple, but also for all religious and civic affairs in Jerusalem. Some other learned and powerful Jewish leaders joined with the chief priests in the effort to silence Jesus once and for all.
Although not providing specific names or titles, the first-century Jewish historian Josephus concurs with what we find in the New Testament. In his Jewish Antiquities, Josephus devotes a short section to the antics of Pontius Pilate. In this context the historian writes that Pilate, “at the suggestion of the principal men amongst us,” had Jesus “condemned to the cross” (Antiquities 18.3.3). Unfortunately Josephus does not explain why these “principal men,” presumably the chief priests and other leaders, had it in for Jesus.
Why did leading Jews in Jerusalem believe it was necessary for Jesus to die? Part of the answer to this question comes from the Gospel of John, in a scene where a group of Jewish leaders was debating the problem of Jesus’ problematic popularity. “If we let him go on like this,” they said, “everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our holy place and our nation” (John 11:48). Jesus was stirring up the people with his message of God’s kingdom and with his mighty deeds, and he wasn’t the first to walk down this perilous road. Others had done so before him and the result hadn’t been good for the Jews. Inevitably the Romans swept into Judea with their armies, slaughtering some, crucifying others, and taking still others into slavery. They had no hesitation about destroying an entire city if only some its residents had challenged Roman authority. So it would be logical for Jewish leaders to fear that Jesus might indeed bring down Roman wrath upon both the temple and the nation. (Photo: The ruins of a theatre in Sepphoris in Galilee. Shortly after Jesus was born, a man named Judas led a makeshift militia in a successful assault against the royal palace. Of course Rome didn’t wink at Judas and his gang. Ultimately the Roman army recaptured Sepphoris, taking all of its residents as slaves and burning the city to the ground. (See my book Jesus Revealed, p. 104)

Ruins of the coliseum at Sepphoris
In the midst of this debate about the problem of Jesus, John records the counsel of the high priest, Caiaphas: “You know nothing at all! You do not understand that it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed” (John 11:50). Since Caiaphas did not believe that Jesus fit the job description of God’s messiah, and since he shared with his colleagues the fear of Roman reprisals against the Jews, his argument made sense. Better that Jesus should die than the whole nation be destroyed.
When Caiaphas and his cohort finally captured Jesus and brought him to Pilate so that he might be crucified, their accusations touched upon several ways he was endangering the Jewish people. “We found this man perverting our nation,” they said, “forbidding us to pay taxes to the emperor, and saying that he himself is the Messiah, a king” (Luke 23:2). When Pilate was underwhelmed, they added, “He stirs up the people by teaching throughout all Judea, from Galilee where he began even to this place” (Luke 23:5). In other words, Jesus was both undermining orderly Roman rule (forbidding taxes, claiming to be king, stirring up the people) and seducing the Jewish people to abandon their religious commitments (keeping the Sabbath, offering sacrifices in the temple, separating themselves from “sinners”).
Although we Christians may want to argue that these accusations were false, it’s easy to see how, from the perspective of the Jewish leaders, they appeared to be true, dangerously true. Moreover, we find in Jewish sources basic confirmation of what Luke puts upon the lips of the leaders. In the Babylonian Talmud (a fifth-century collection of earlier Jewish oral traditions), we read the following:
There is a tradition: They hanged Yeshu on the Sabbath of the Passover. But for forty days before that a herald went in front of him (crying), “Yeshu is to be stoned because he practiced sorcery and seduced Israel and led them astray from God”. (b. Sanhedrin 43a)
Although the details don’t fit perfectly with the New Testament accounts, the charges against Jesus confirm what we have already seen. Jesus was said to “practice sorcery,” which is how his miracles would have appeared to his opponents, and which explains his ability to arouse the people. He also “seduced Israel and led them astray from God.” How similar this is to the charges in Luke 23, where Jesus was said to have perverted the nation and stirred up the people.
The concerns of Jewish leaders and their desire to get rid of him would probably not have come to fruition except for something Jesus did to provoke their concerted effort to have him crucified. I’ll examine this action in my next post.
One Jewish Perspective, Part 4
The “Crime” of Jesus
My last post in this series focused on the reasons why some Jewish leaders in Jerusalem believed that it was necessary for Jesus to die. The bottom line? He was a threat to their conception of faith and national life, indeed, to the very existence of the Jewish people. If left unchecked, Jesus would either pervert the Jewish nation with his peculiar notions of the kingdom of God, or he would bring down the wrath of Rome upon Judea, leading to its destruction. Either way, Jesus needed to be taken out of the game – permanently.
The concerns of the Jewish leaders, however pressing they might have been, would probably not have been enough to bring about Jesus’ execution except for something Jesus himself did, something shocking, unexpected, and utterly unacceptable from the perspective of the Jewish leaders. I’m speaking of his activity in the temple, that which Christians call “the cleansing of the temple.” Here’s Mark’s account of this scandalous action:
Then they came to Jerusalem. And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who were selling and those who were buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the moneychangers and the seats of those who sold doves; and he would not allow anyone to carry anything through the temple. He was teaching and saying, “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’? But you have made it a den of robbers.” (Mark 11:15-17)
How did the Jewish leaders respond to Jesus’ action? “And when the chief priests and the scribes heard it, they kept looking for a way to kill him” (Mark 11:18).
Why was Jesus’ behavior in the temple worthy of death?
First of all, he was suggesting that the current state of the temple was unacceptable and that the temple leadership – the chief priests – were unworthy of respect. They were like a bunch of robbers.
Second, Jesus actually prohibited the crucial function of the temple: the offering of sacrifices. From the point of view of the priests, he was keeping the Jewish people from worshipping God in the way God had prescribed – a serious if not a capital offense.
Third, Jesus’ activity in the temple was consistent with his earlier actions, whereby he implied that the temple was no longer necessary. If Jesus himself could forgive sins (Mark 2:1-12), then why bother with the temple? Thus Jesus was saying to a temple-centered religion: The very center of your relationship with God is wrong. Such a critique would not be taken lightly by those who embraced a temple-centered Judaism.
But it wasn’t only what Jesus did in the temple that provoked a negative response from the leaders, but also what he said. You see, by referring to the temple as a “den of robbers,” Jesus was doing far more than insulting the chief priests. He was actually quoting from the prophet Jeremiah. In Jeremiah 7, the prophet condemned the tendency of Israel to put their faith in the existence of the temple. Many in Jeremiah’s day believed that they could do all sorts of evil deeds without fear of punishment because God’s temple was in their midst. The temple was their spiritual safety net, so to speak. But God was neither fooled nor pleased. So, through Jeremiah the Lord prophesied,
Here you are, trusting in deceptive words to no avail. Will you steal, murder, commit adultery, swear falsely, make offerings to Baal, and go after other gods that you have not known, and then come and stand before me in this house, which is called by my name, and say, “We are safe!” – only to go on doing all these abominations? Has this house, which is called by my name, become a den of robbers in your sight? . . . And now, because you have done all these things, says the LORD, . . . therefore I will do to the house that is called by my name . . . just what I did to Shiloh. (Jer 7:8-14)
And what did the Lord do to Shiloh? He destroyed it and the tabernacle it once housed (Psalm 78:60).
In the day of Jeremiah, the people had turned the temple into a “den of robbers,” a place of supposed safety for those who did evil deeds out in the world. For this reason, God promised to destroy the temple, which he did in 586 B.C. Similarly, by quoting from Jeremiah 7 as he overturned the tables in the temple, Jesus implied that the same judgment applied in his day. Those who took refuge in the temple could not presume to be safe. God was about to destroy the temple because of the sin of the people, even as he had done to Shiloh and to the first temple in Jerusalem.
Thus Jesus’ action in the temple, combined with his words, not only insulted and upset the chief priests, but also conveyed God’s judgment upon the temple itself. This crime against the temple could not be tolerated, as far as its leaders were concerned. Jesus, the blasphemous criminal, deserved, not only to be silenced, but also to die. In my next post I’ll examine two fascinating parallels that will help us to see that the Jewish leaders who condemned Jesus were acting in ways fully consistent with their predecessors and successors. Right or wrong, they were doing exactly what Jewish leaders in their position had done and would do again. They thought they were defending God’s temple and, indeed, God himself.
One Jewish Perspective, Part 5
Jewish Leaders Respond to Offenses Against the Temple
In my last post, I suggested that one of the major causes of Jesus’ death was his “cleansing” of the temple. By interrupting the sacrificial system and by quoting Jeremiah’s own condemnation of the temple, Jesus was threatening the very core of Judaism in his day. In the perspective of the Jewish leaders, this would have been blasphemy – speaking against God himself.
For those whose experience and viewpoint is far removed from that of the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem, it may seem that their intended punishment simply doesn’t fit the crime. But, if we look for historical parallels, we find two incidents in which other leaders acted much as did Caiaphas and his associates when dealing with Jesus.
The first example comes from the ministry of Jeremiah, some 600 years before Jesus. The Lord told Jeremiah to stand in the Jerusalem temple and speak the following:
“If you will not listen to me, to walk in my law that I have set before you, and to heed the words of my servants the prophets whom I send to you urgently – though you have not heeded – then I will make this house like Shiloh, and I will make this city a curse for all the nations of the earth” (Jeremiah 26:4-6).
What response did this prophecy spark in the Jewish leaders and others? Sorrow? Repentance? Hardly! In fact, here’s what happened:
And when Jeremiah had finished speaking all that the LORD had commanded him to speak to all the people, then the priests and the prophets and all the people laid hold of him, saying, “You shall die!” (Jeremiah 26:8)
There it is, the same pattern we see in the last days of Jesus: Speak judgment on the temple and the leaders will believe that you need to die. In the case of Jeremiah, however, he insisted that he was only passing on God’s own message, so the people spared his life (Jer 26:12-16).
Now jump forward in history more than six centuries, to an incident that occurred about thirty years after the death of Jesus. Curiously enough, this incident involved another man named Jesus, son of Ananus (Hananiah), who came to Jerusalem during a feast an began to cry out “against Jerusalem and the holy house.” According to the Jewish historian Josephus, Jesus’ persistent proclamation of judgment on the temple and city offended “certain of the most eminent among the populace,” which is to say, the leaders of Jerusalem. So, at first they beat Jesus severely. But when this didn’t shut him up, they brought Jesus to the Roman procurator “where he was whipped [flogged] till his bones were laid bare.” When even this didn’t silence Jesus, the procurator dismissed this Jesus as a madman and a nuisance. (The story of this Jesus can be found in Josephus’s Jewish War, 6.5.3.)
In this case of Jesus ben Hananiah, the Jewish leaders seem not to have pressed for his crucifixion. Of course, this Jesus didn’t pose the same threat as Jesus of Nazareth once did, nor did he do anything resembling the cleansing of the temple. Yet, merely by proclaiming God’s judgment on the temple, Jesus son of Ananus earned several beatings, including what must have been an almost fatal Roman flogging. And, like Jesus of Nazareth, the Jewish leaders dealt with him, first on their own and then by handing him over to the Roman governor.
The experiences of Jeremiah and Jesus ben Hananiah, though different in detail and time period, nevertheless illustrate how Jewish leaders were apt to deal with those who spoke against the temple. They were worthy of severe punishment, if not death. And when the Jewish leaders no longer had the authority to execute someone, they would turn him over to the Roman governor. Thus the actions of Caiaphas and his associates in response to the problem of Jesus of Nazareth reflect the same commitments and tendencies of similar leaders in similar positions. This greatly increases the likelihood that the historical scenario I have been proposing with respect to Jesus of Nazareth is, in fact, accurate.
In my next post I’ll sum up what we have learned about “one” Jewish perspective on the necessity of Jesus’ death.
One Jewish Perspective, Part 6
Summing Up One Jewish Perspective
In the last five posts I’ve been examining “one” Jewish perspective on the necessity of Jesus’ death. Let me briefly summarize my findings, adding some observations along the way.
1. It’s more accurate to speak of “one” Jewish perspective on the necessity of Jesus’ death than to speak of “the” Jewish perspective because not all Jews agreed with the viewpoint of those who conspired to have Jesus crucified. Only a tiny percentage of Jews in Jerusalem were actually involved in the effort to persuade Pilate to execute Jesus. Moreover, the New Testament Gospels attest to the widespread popularity of Jesus among his Jewish contemporaries. “A great number” of those in Jerusalem at the time of Jesus’ death were horrified by what had happened to him (Luke 23:27). Thus, if anything, the numerically dominant Jewish perspective would have supported Jesus. But those who held power in Jerusalem we able to do what the masses would not have wanted.
2. Some of the leading Jews in Jerusalem, including Caiaphas, the High Priest, sought to have Jesus crucified. Evidence for this comes not only from all four New Testament Gospels, but also from the Jewish historian Josephus.
3. The Jewish leaders who sought to have Jesus crucified believed that his death was necessary for the following reasons:
a. By stirring up the people, Jesus was threatening the peace and life of the Jewish people, thus increasing the likelihood that Rome would destroy both Jerusalem and the temple. The death of Jesus would be preferable to the destruction of the nation.
b. Jesus “seduced Israel and led them astray from God” (Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 43a). His message and ministry lessened the people’s commitment to living out their Judaism in the way approved of by the Jewish leaders (priests, Pharisees).
c. Jesus interrupted the orderly system of sacrifices in the Jerusalem temple, speaking against the temple and its leaders, thus opposing not only the core of Judaism, but God himself. Jesus’ quotation from Jeremiah 7 (“den of robbers”) combined with other things he had said during his ministry clarified his condemnation of the temple – a blasphemous offense. Moreover, he insisted that God was on his side, thus adding blasphemy to blasphemy.
d. Jesus presented himself as the Messiah, the one anointed by God to bring divine salvation to Israel. But he failed to do what the Messiah was supposed to do, notably, lead a successful revolt against Rome. Instead, Jesus turned his judgment against God’s own temple. Thus Jesus was a false messiah. This fact alone might not have warranted his crucifixion. But, when combined with his other offenses, his false claim to messiahship increased further the chances that his actions would bring devastation upon Judea.
4. The efforts of Jewish leaders to silence Jesus by physical violence were consistent with what other Jewish leaders did in similar situations (vs. the prophet Jeremiah in Jer 26 and vs. Jesus ben Hananiah in Josephus, Jewish War, 6.5.3). This consistency greatly increases the probability that the Gospel accounts accurately portray the role of Jewish leaders. Caiaphas and company did exactly what Jewish leaders in their position thought they had to do when someone insulted or threatened the temple.
Implications for the Current Debate
Given this picture of “one” Jewish perspective on the necessity of Jesus’ death, I want to draw out two implications.
First, it is historically irresponsible to say, “The Jews killed Christ.” Yes, I’m aware that the Gospel of John uses “the Jews” in a way that seems to lay blame for Jesus’ death upon “the Jews.” But, when read in context, “the Jews” means “some Jewish leaders.” Ultimate and legal blame for Jesus’ death fell upon the shoulders of Pontius Pilate, no matter how he might have tried to wriggle out of it. Moreover, many, and quite probably the vast majority of Jews in the time of Jesus, did not want him killed, and were horrified when it happened. Given the tragic history of Christian anti-Semitism, we Christians must speak carefully and accurately about Jewish involvement in his death. The truth: some influential Jews believed Jesus had to die and sought to convince Pilate to crucify him.
Second, it is historically irresponsible to deny all Jewish involvement in the death of Jesus. Some scholars, no doubt responding to the horrors of anti-Semitism, have applied their critical scalpels to the New Testament records, cutting from them any implication of Jewish complicity in the death of Jesus. In their surgery, however, they bleed historical probability to death. In fact two ancient Jewish sources, Josephus and the Talmud, indicate that some Jews were involved in the death of Jesus and help us to understand why they would have been. Plus, the picture of Caiaphas and his associates in the Gospels makes historical and logical sense. These leaders were protecting that which they believed to be essential, including both the temple and their own civic/religious position. The actions of other leaders in similar situations confirm the conclusion that the New Testament Gospels paint an historical reliable picture of Jewish involvement in the death of Jesus.
Finally, there was another Jewish perspective on the necessity of Jesus’ death, a perspective I haven’t yet mentioned. It was the most important Jewish perspective of all, that of Jesus himself. To the question of why Jesus believed he had to die I’ll turn in my next post in this series.



Jesus was crucified. There were many ways in the first-century for a criminal to be put to death, including stoning, beheading, being torn apart by beasts, etc. Yet all the earliest sources attest to the crucifixion of Jesus. These sources include, in addition to the New Testament writings, the Jewish historian Josephus (Antiquities 18.3.3, A.D. 95) and the Roman historian Tacitus (Annals 15.44, A.D. 109)(Photo: Painting by El Greco, “The Crucifixion,” 1596-1600)Jesus was crucified during the governorship and under the authority of Pontius Pilate. Once again, this basic fact is confirmed in Josephus and Tacitus in addition to the New Testament.

I
In
I
posted June 18, 2007 at 9:03 pm
Mark,
You have written a strong critique of Chris Hitchens’ book. And Stephen Prothero’s review is also strong and very cogent.
I cannot bring myself to agree with you, however, that Mr. Hitchens’ argument is fundamentally unscientific, or that Mr. Hitchens is unfamiliar with the sympathetic, good variety of religious believers.
To write a worthy response to your latest comments, I should really go back and carefully read “God Is Not Great” again. Then I could judge better which of your complaints are on target, and exactly how much they are on target.
In the meantime, I will note that Mr. Hitchens states in no uncertain terms that morality and religion are by no means incompatible. He merely asserts that religion is optional for morality, and we are much better off leaving it by the wayside altogether.
Since he admits the compatibility of religion and morality, he also admits that you are right when you assert the existence many, many people who are religious and who also happen to be decent, humane, and very moral people.
When Mr. Hitchens says that religion poisons everything, he means that the very nature of religion is such that it must have a malign influence on people. This is not a question which is necessarily best tackled through strictly scientific methods. A study of history and a weighing of the evidence of one’s personal experience is going to figure heavily into the analysis.
Early on in his book, Mr. Hitchens goes on a short tour of world cities in which he highlights some of the more prominent religious fanaticisms that are or have been prevalent in various hotspots around the world. The survey gains a lot of power and poignancy from the fact that Mr. Hitchens is enumerating this list on the basis of his own personal experience as a well-traveled war correspondent and investigative journalist.
Mr. Hitchens could have chosen to limit his observations to generalizations that are only true for every religious believer in every religion at all times and in all places. And I’m sure an intelligent and worthy book would have been the result.
But such an approach would have eviscerated “God Is Not Great” of some of its most compelling anecdotes and evidence. “God Is Not Great” is a thoughtful, compelling book in great part because it refuses to shrink from considering and analyzing the sins and the fallacies and the horrors that religious folk have in fact committed in God’s name.
posted June 18, 2007 at 9:03 pm
posted June 18, 2007 at 10:55 pm
Dr. Roberts,
You accuse Hitchens of exaggerating, yet you approve of Prothero’s over-the-top: “I have never encountered a book whose author is so fundamentally unacquainted with its subject.”
Prothero is not exaggerating?
When Prothero says he “never” encountered a book… it makes me think of Hitchens saying religion poisons “everything.”
Why is one exaggeration okay with you and not the other?
When Hitchens ridicules his opponents, you say its bad, but you’re silent with people like Hewitt’s blog where it’s nearly a daily event to ridicule John Edwards with sophomoric photoshop work?
I’m sympathetic to your arguments about ridicule and exaggeration, but you lose people like me when it seems you’re biased against targets who aren’t your friends or aren’t sympathetic to your point of view.
posted June 18, 2007 at 11:33 pm
Great blog! Thank you for all the great resources and insightful posts. I will be back again and again. God bless
posted June 19, 2007 at 12:07 am
When Hitchens says that “religion poisons everything” he has gotten the problem backwards; everything poisons religion. This mistake reveals Hitchens’ lack of understanding of true Christianity.
posted June 19, 2007 at 1:07 am
re: the link “truthhope.net” gives us (comment two)…pretty cool that the debate between Pastor Roberts and Chris Hitchens is now on Dawkins’s website. Dr. Roberts, I honestly think that’s a compliment to how interesting and thoughtful this debate was on both sides.
posted June 19, 2007 at 3:01 am
Gotta say, Mark, I think ChrisK has a good point in the last couple grafs of his response no. 3.
posted June 19, 2007 at 9:30 am
Hitchens is caustic, no doubt.
But I think Hitch gives great credit where great credit is due to Dr. Roberts’s church’s work in China and other great Christian communities when in his debate with Pastor Roberts he said, “…there are many other Christians I know who do marvelous work in North Korea, for example, where the people are trying to escape from a prison slave state there, and also for keeping the issue of Darfur in front of the public. I think the Evangelical movement deserves a great deal of credit.” (from the transcript at RichardDawkins.net)
Accept the praise, Dr. Roberts. China, North Korea, and Darfur are our real life Hells. I can say as another agnostic/atheist that I deeply admire and appreciate what you and the Christian community is doing there to help people who are without hope.
posted June 19, 2007 at 1:27 pm
Matthew Goggins wrote:
“In the meantime, I will note that Mr. Hitchens states in no uncertain terms that morality and religion are by no means incompatible. He merely asserts that religion is optional for morality, and we are much better off leaving it by the wayside altogether.”
He may state that and he may believe that. However, (and this is based on the “Great God Debate,” rather than the book which I have not read) Hitchens also said, “Well, no, I’m afraid I think that the crimes of religion are innate in it.” I don’t believe he can have it both ways. To me, that sounds like someone who categorically rejects the idea that morality and religion are compatible.
I think his mistake is the same as the one found in the phrase “power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” That is, it assumes that mankind is not already corrupt. Power doesn’t so much corrupt as it allows our corruption to be made manifest. I don’t think you need to read or believe the Bible to observe the truth of the radical corruption of man. Mr. Hitchens clearly believes that religion is the poison. I don’t believe he is being objective.
posted June 19, 2007 at 1:30 pm
ChrisK,
Concerning your point about exaggeration, I don’t see how you can equate the hyperbole of the term ‘everything’with “I have never encountered a book whose author is so fundamentally unaquainted with its subject.”
“Everything” would be considered an absolute any way you slice it. No room for exceptions or discussion. On the other hand, Dr. Prothero is relating his own personal experience as to authors of books. It MAY well be that Hitchens strikes him as the most fundamentally unaquainted with his subject. I’m sure there are other authors out there less familiar with whatever they’ve written about. Its just that Dr. Prothero hasn’t gotten around to reviewing them, and may never. As we can probably count Dr. Prothero as a subject matter expert on religion, I can give him the benefit of the doubt. Hitchens leaves himself no such room by his choice of words. BTW, I would think you could count yourself either as an agnostic or an atheist, but not both. Which is it?
posted June 19, 2007 at 1:42 pm
Darfur and other such places may be hell on earth but they are not hell. Secular praise of Christian work in these places is faint praise to be sure. Doing the “marvelous work” of easing the pain issued by the secular and materialistic regimes of this world may be the effect of Christian love but the point is to save souls. And to these ends some Christians give all. (for what would a secularist give his live and why would he?) If I condemn lawns and sow weeds in front of my house what right do I have to praise my neighbor for mowing part of (what is now) my untended weed patch?
The scientific open mind should be a mind swept free of preconceptions not a mind poisoned to possible conclusions. To expel God from your preconceptions is not the same as to expel God from a list of possible conclusions. Science is not the exclusion of knowledge but the uninhibited seeking of knowledge.
Mr. Hitchens wrote about a god that is not great. There are, and have been, many of these. Thankfully I know a God that is great. I pray that he may meet that God someday and truly learn what he aspires to know.
posted June 19, 2007 at 1:47 pm
There is a confusion that all that travels under the banner of “Christian” must be; or, that all that a Christian does is Christian. Do secularists demand that we condem all Islamics for the fact that some of them hate and kill? Why not?
posted June 19, 2007 at 2:06 pm
Curiously Unscientific, or scientifically incurious? I think the latter actually sums it up. Anyone who is truly scientific and who acquaints himself with scientific knowledge would never state something as ridiculous as â??Thanks to the telescope and the microscope, [religion] no longer offers an explanation of anything importantâ? with its implication that the telescope and microscope have done anything more than reveal more and more questions about further unknowns.
Its funny how many “atheists” rely on a dogmatic scientism that brooks no questions and hears no arguments.
posted June 20, 2007 at 12:15 am
Brad—-re: “…but the point is to save souls….” You seem to be making a surprising moral (immoral) point. Are you saying if there was no chance of saving souls in Darfur, i.e., no chance of converting non-Christians to Christians, then you wouldn’t be interested in helping them? Kind of a Bad Samaritan?
rw—I’m an agnostic—I can’t prove there is no God—-but I emphasize I find it highly unlikely there ever would be reasonable evidence to prove a god. That’s why I sometimes throw in the “atheist” bit.
posted June 20, 2007 at 12:38 am
HenryH,
To me, that sounds like someone who categorically rejects the idea that morality and religion are compatible.
I do remember him saying that morality and religion are compatible.
Before mentioning the compatibility of morality and religion, Mr. Hitchens makes a big deal out of how the scientist Laplace told Napoleon that his scientific theories did not need the “God hypothesis”. As a result of Laplace’s lack of need for a god, religion was forvevermore merely optional, both in terms of cosmology/metaphysics, and also in terms of morality.
Mr. Hitchens’ next point then, is that both religion and atheism are compatible with morality, and they are both compatible with immorality as well. But what you really need religion for, in his view, is as a motivation to commit the most heinous crimes: genital mutilation, genocide, subjugation of women, suicide bombing, and so on.
So you are right when you point out his belief in crimes that are inherent to religion. And perhaps you are right as well to consider his analysis to be less than objective. After all, that is really more for us to judge than for him — he is too close to his book to be able to say “it’s wonderful” or “it stinks”. He needs feedback from people like you and me.
Brad,
If all Mr. Hitchens did was to catalogue crimes by religious people, then I would agree that his logic is faulty.
But he also provides what he considers to be a strong connection between religious beliefs, especially the attitude of faith, and the crimes themselves. He links the crimes with the religion, or at least he tries to do so.
And yes, Mr. Hitchens does condemn Islam on similar grounds. As far as he is concerned, it is the attitude of faith which is the problem, and not just the content of the beliefs.
SonnyJim,
Anyone who is truly scientific and who acquaints himself with scientific knowledge would never state something as ridiculous as â??Thanks to the telescope and the microscope, [religion] no longer offers an explanation of anything importantâ? with its implication that the telescope and microscope have done anything more than reveal more and more questions about further unknowns.
You raise an interesting point, but the truth is that science has contributed enormously to the accumulated knowledge of humanity.
Those truths are tentative in a way that religious truths could never be, but it is precisely from their tentativeness that scientific truths gain their robustness and usefulness.
Mark cited this very quote as an example of Mr. Hitchens’ unjustified exaggerating. But when read in context, the quote makes a lot of sense and is 100% justified in my view.
Mr. Hitchens is not saying religion has nothing to say since the rise of science — he is just saying that anything a religion could say that goes against science (for example, the earth being the center of the solar system) is not going to be accepted anymore by educated people as an explanation of how the world works.
posted June 20, 2007 at 2:00 pm
ChrisK:
I most certainly am NOT saying that we, as Christians, should help only to save souls but that the NATURE of the Christian conscience is to reach out to the suffering. That outreach is most often given without regard to the spiritual condition of the suffering and even knowing that the suffering exists BECAUSE of the spiritual condition of the sufferer.
Christians (in my opinion) have a dual role and this is what confuses non-Christians. As Christians we are called to “proclaim the Good News.” As Christians we are also called to “Love our neighbors” and even to “Love our enemies.”
One of the leaders of the Salvation Army famously said that “you wrap sandwiches in tracts.” A nice way to hit both bases.
My point in my previous post (disguised by poor writing) is the propensity of secularists to proclaim freedom from religious moralists and then laud the Christians that go into the resultant hell-holes to help the human flotsam; many times at genuine risk to their own lives. And the thanks the Christians get is a back-handed “thanks, but leave the moralizing to us Humanists.”
When you ask non-believers why they hate Christianity they point to despicable acts, un-Christian acts, done by people wearing the self-appropriated sheep’s clothing of Christianity. Acts committed to raise oneself, or enrich oneself, whether done by a criminal or a preacher are not Christian acts.
posted June 20, 2007 at 2:08 pm
By the way…If there were proof of God there could no longer be free-will. There is, however, plenty of EVIDENCE of God. The whole of creation, from the un-plausibility of spontaneous DNA to the extraordinary complexity of the cosmos, shouts out “Intelligent creator.” Ironicly, science has almost found God by excluding any other possibility.
posted June 22, 2007 at 11:39 am
Michael Novak has a compelling review of Hitchens’ book and the other recent ones attacking belief in God. See http://www.aei.org/publications/filter.all,pubID.25770/pub_detail.asp.
posted June 22, 2007 at 11:40 am
Michael Novak has a compelling review of Hitchensâ?? book and the other recent ones attacking belief in God. See http://www.aei.org/publications/filter.all,pubID.25770/pub_detail.asp
posted August 10, 2007 at 6:08 pm
You don’t need to be scientific to be an atheist, it just helps.
When people declared the world flat, they had the evidence of looking out at a flat world from the top of a hill.
When they declared the existence of God, they had the evidence of looking out on a world they could not explain.
Science is a relatively new idea. Its made massive progress in the short time its been alive and kicking.
Religion is an old idea and it’s on the way out.
This blog is just another example of its death throes.
posted January 9, 2009 at 3:17 am
Wrought,
I don’t know if you will ever come back and read this response since it’s over a year later. I don’t mean to come across as arrogant, so please don’t take my comments that way. It is evident though that you are not familiar with the topics you mention, and that you are not looking empirically at the evidence, nor looking honestly at the history of ideas and Western thought.
You seem unfamiliar with religion and with statistics regarding religious movements (including atheism) worldwide. You might consider doing some reading in theology or the history of religious thought, because you would very quickly see that your statement about the origin of religion is simply untenable. I’d suggest reading Christian, Islamic and atheistic viewpoints on the origins of religion because it will offer you a broader perspective and allow you to see where different people are coming from.
You say, “Science is a relatively new idea. Its made massive progress in the short time its been alive and kicking. Religion is an old idea and itâ??s on the way out.”
Actually this idea appears to be on the way out, as people have been saying it for three hundred years and the evidence simply contradicts the claim. It’s especially on the way out among scientists and sociologists who actually study trends and movements. In fact, atheism worldwide (as of mid-2008) stands at around 145.6 million worldwide of those who positively identify as “atheist” (2.3% worldwide). This is down from 165.3 million in 1970 (4.4% worldwide), and experts expect the trend to continue so that by 2025 worldwide atheists will account for a population of 147.7 million (1.8% worldwide). There’s plenty of evidence of a movement towards Christianity throughout Asia, Africa and Latin America, and toward Islam and generic spirituality throughout Europe. This seems to go against your statement because nations such as China and Europe as a whole are heavily influenced by science. Rodney Stark, who grew up Lutheran but is now rather agnostic, has shown statistically that even in America where atheists say they have been growing rapidly, the statistics in mid-2008 remain the same as in mid-2000, and the same as in 1900 (i.e. 4% of total population).
The only way around these statistics is to include all non-religious in the statistics. In America, the category of non-religious has grown in the last 40 years, from around 8-10% to around 13-15%, but worldwide it also is trending downwards. In 1970, non-religious were 14% of the total population, in 2000 they were 12.5% of the total population, and experts predict that they will amount to 10.1% of the total population. Of course, if the non-religious elsewhere are similar to the self proclaimed non-religious where I live in China, then they are religious by most accounts. I know many self proclaimed non-religious who daily offer incense to ancestors, pray to the divine spirit, etc. but do not fall into the major religious categories and thus are “non-religious” in surveys.
Statistics such as these are available on the web in varying quality, but more accurate trends and analysis can be found in the published and peer-reviewed work of Rodney Stark (University of Washington), Philip Jenkins (Penn State), as well as elsewhere. Nobody is really doubting the data or the recent growth of religion, but various opinions about the future exist.
Of course your predictions are philosophical and not empirical anyway. I would suggest though that if you’re going to be scientific in your sociological opinions that you at least be honest with the data. Religion is simply not on the way out statistically, but is growing worldwide.
I’d also suggest you do a study of the history of science and scientific ideas, so that you can see that the statement about science being a new idea is incorrect, and that the foundations of Western science are actually from medieval Islam and Renaissance Christianity.
posted October 21, 2009 at 10:45 am
Hello all,
I am not so much responding to the substance of this piece as I would like to make a general comment, having just read the entire critique of God Is Not Great and the comments. I am an atheist and I tend to hold very much with the Harris/Dawkins school of thought. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate finding a website like this, where there are people willing to respond to ‘new atheism’ substantially and thoughtfully. I can’t speak for all atheists any more than you all can speak for all Christians, but I find it utterly refreshing to see an actual constructive and respectful critical dialogue. This is what has been largely missing in the response to the new atheists, whose arguments I often feel are unfairly and inaccurately portrayed. I think it is the only way that atheists and believers can ever truly dialogue. This site is an oasis in the sea of noise that constitutes the atheist-religionist debate on the internet.