Pilate was
in a dilemma. An innocent man stood before him for judgment; Pilate knew
that for envy he had been delivered up, and there was no evidence of
wrong doing which would justify a sentence against him. Yet the mob was
howling for blood. It was a ticklish situation, a nasty mess. Pilate
must have wished with all his heart that he could be relieved of the
necessity of handling this case. Either way he went, he was certain to
have regrets. His sense of Roman justice was outraged at the thought of
condemning an innocent man; yet his political sagacity told him that he
dare not antagonize the mob.
At this
crucial juncture his wife sent an urgent message: "Have thou nothing to
do with that righteous man; for I have suffered many things this day in
a dream because of him." How pleasant that would be! What a relief just
to wash his hands of the whole affair, bow gracefully out of the
picture, and refuse to render a verdict. In a sense that was what Pilate
tried to do. He even called for water and symbolically "washed his
hands" of the matter, avowing his innocence. Yet Pilate found that it
was impossible to side-step his moral responsibility. The verdict of
history, repeated endlessly in that earliest of all creedal statements,
is that Christ was "crucified under Pontius Pilate."
As it was
with Pilate, so is it with everyone who has knowledge of Jesus.
Neutrality is an impossibility. The advice of Pilate's wife is
incredible. Pilate's very failure to declare himself was a declaration.
Had he been familiar with the teachings of the prisoner he would have
recalled his words, "He that is not with me is against me; and he that
gathereth not with me scattereth abroad." (Matt.
12:30)
The long story of the years has demonstrated the
inexorable truth which Jesus put into words, "I came not to send peace,
but a sword." His advent into the world has brought to mankind the
necessity of making a choice regarding him. In theory they may postpone
the choice, or try to evade it or avoid it; in practice the choice is
made every day, and in every act or word or thought. Pilate's theory was
that he could avert the choice; his practice was that he delivered
Christ to be crucified.
A hundred
years ago the Church of Christ stood at the crossroads. For multiplied
thousands of Christians an inescapable choice loomed up. They did not
ask for this problem; they did not want it; they did not like it. But it
was there. In theory multitudes of them tried to shut their eyes to the
problem, and ignore it; in practice every last one of them made a
choice. Apparently in any such circumstances there are three choices
possible: a positive choice for, a positive choice against, and a
neutral choice. But as the years unfold, it has been demonstrated over
and over again that the "neutral" choice disappears in the cold, hard
logic of practice. Men can be neutral in theory only; in practice they
are compelled to declare themselves.
In national
affairs, when a nation is engaged in a struggle to the death for her
very existence, neutrality is regarded as treason. In spiritual affairs,
it is true that the Lord's church is perpetually engaged in a warfare
that knows no respite. When a matter of truth or error is up for
decision, any attempt at "neutrality" is treason to the truth!
"Have thou
nothing to do with that righteous man," said Pilate's wife. Attempting
to follow that advice, Pilate turned Christ over to his tormenters.
"Have thou nothing to do with that righteous man," is the unexpressed,
but none-the-less real, determination of thousands upon thousands of our
contemporaries and acquaintances. Yet every such effort at "neutrality"
is disastrous to the one attempting it. For Christ cannot be ignored. He
makes positive claims and demands on the life of every individual. A
failure to acknowledge those claims, a refusal to yield to those demands
places one squarely in opposition and rebellion against God.
In theory a
man can decide to be "neutral" on the subject of baptism; he is neither
"for" it, nor "against" it. But in practice he either will be baptized,
or he will not be. There is no neutrality in practice. In theory a man
may be "neutral" on the subject of instrumental music in the worship; he
is neither "for" it, nor is he "against" it. But in practice he cannot
be neutral. He will either worship with it; or refuse to worship with
it. The choice may not be forced upon him all at once; but sooner or
later it will come. Perhaps he thinks himself against instrumental
music; but he never speaks against it; never points out to any man the
error of it; refuses to discuss it either publicly or privately. He is
neutral in theory only; he is not neutral in practice. His influence is
on the side of those who advocate the organ.
In theory,
a man can decide to be "neutral" as to the regularity of observance of
the Lord's Supper; in practice he cannot be neutral. A failure to be for
a weekly observance of it inevitably puts him in the class of those who
are NOT for a weekly observance of it.
"Have thou
nothing to do with that righteous man." Yes, that is what Pilate
devoutly wished could be so. But it was impossible for him. And it is
impossible for anybody. It is impossible for YOU! When right and wrong
are involved, when truth and error are in combat, neutrality is not only
treason, it is impossible. Even an attempt at neutrality marks one as
disloyal to Christ. There is no middle ground between Christ and Satan.
-- Gospel Guardian, October 11, 1956
Other Articles by
Yater Tant
Larimore and Tant
Going Home
Authorized by a Well Defined and a Clear-Shown
Majority of The Churches of Christ in Texas