s we explained in chapter one, a document was published in the late 1800's
by Rev. W. D. Mahan in which he claimed to have seen Pilate's Report to
Tiberius Caesar in the Vatican. He further claimed to have gone to Constantinople
to the Library of St. Sophia in which he saw other manuscripts relating
to the birth of Jesus and other matters.
However,
Edgar J. Goodspeed showed that he could not possibly have traveled so
far away in October and have returned in November of the same year, as
Mahan claimed in his own reports. Airplanes had not been invented yet,
and such a trip would have taken months to accomplish.
Edgar
J. Goodspeed investigated these claims in a 1931 book entitled, Strange
New Gospels, and concluded that Mahan's manuscript was a forgery.
We include the entire manuscipt here as a matter of interest to the reader
as it was published in 1887 under the title, The Archko Volume.
The following is the text of Pilate's Report to Tiberius:
To
Noble Tiberius Caesar, Emperor of Rome.
Noble
Sovereign, Greeting: The
events of the last few days in my province have been of such a character
that I will give the details in full as they occurred, as I should not
be surprised if, in the course of time, they may change the destiny of
our nation, for it seems of late that all the gods have ceased to be propitious.
I am almost ready to say, Cursed be the day that I succeeded Vallerius
Flaceus in the government of Judea; for since then my life has been one
of continual uneasiness and distress.
On my arrival at Jerusalem I took possession of the praetorium, and ordered
a splendid feast to be prepared, to which I invited the tetrarch of Galilee,
with the high priest and his officers. At the appointed hour no guests
appeared. This I considered an insult offered to my dignity, and to the
whole government which I represent. A few days after, the high priest
deigned to pay me a visit. His deportment was grave and deceitful. He
pretended that his religion forbade him and his attendants to sit at the
table with the Romans, and eat and offer libations with them, but this
was only a sanctimonious seeming, for his very countenance betrayed his
hypocrisy. Although I thought it expedient to accept his excuse, from
that moment I was convinced that the conquered had declared themselves
the enemy of the conquerors; and I would warn the Romans to beware of
the high priests of this country. They would betray their own mother to
gain office and a luxurious living.
It seems to me that, of conquered cities, Jerusalem is the most difficult
to govern. So turbulent are the people that I live in momentary dread
of an insurrection. I have not soldiers sufficient to suppress it. I had
only one centurion and a hundred men at my command. I requested a reinforcement
from the prefect of Syria, who informed me that he had scarcely enough
troops sufficient to defend his own province. An insatiate thirst for
conquest to extend our empire beyond the means of defending it, I fear,
will be the cause of the final overthrow of our whole government. I lived
secluded from the masses, for I did not know what those priests might
influence the rabble to do; yet I endeavored to ascertain, as far as I
could, the mind and standing of the people.
Among the various rumors that came to my ears, there was one in particular
that attracted my attention. A young man, it was said, had appeared in
Galilee, preaching with a noble unction a new law in the name of the God
that had sent him. At first I was apprehensive that his design was to
stir up the people against the Romans, but my fears were soon dispelled.
Jesus of Nazareth spoke rather as friend of the Romans than of the Jews.
One day in passing by the place of Siloe, where there was a great concourse
of people, I observed in the midst of the group a young man who was leaning
against a tree, calmly addressing the multitude. I was told it was Jesus.
This I could easily have suspected, so great was the difference between
him and those listening to him. His golden-colored hair and beard gave
to his appearance a celestial aspect. He appeared to be about thirty years
of age. Never have I seen a sweeter or more serene countenance. What a
contrast between him and his hearers, with their black beards and tawny
complexions!
Unwilling to interrupt him by my presence, I continued my walk, but signified
to my secretary to join the group and listen. My secretary's name is Manlius.
He is the grandson of the chief of the conspirators who encamped in Etruria
waiting for Cataline. Manlius had been for a long time an inhabitant of
Judea, and is well acquainted with the Hebrew language. He was devoted
to me, and worthy of my confidence. On entering the praetorium I found
Manlius, who related to me the words Jesus had pronounced at Siloe. Never
have I read in the works of the philosophers anything that can compare
to the maxims of Jesus. One of the rebellious Jews, so numerous in Jerusalem,
having asked Jesus if it was lawful to give tribute to Caesar, he replied,
"Render unto Caesar the things that belong to Caesar, and unto God
the things that are God's."
It was on account of the wisdom of his sayings that I granted so much liberty
to the Nazarene; for it was in my power to have had him arrested, and
exiled to Pontus; but that would have been contrary to the justice which
has always characterized the Roman government in all its dealings with
men; this man was neither seditious nor rebellious; I extended to him
my protection, unknown perhaps to himself. He was at liberty to act, to
speak, to assemble and address the people, and to choose disciples, unrestrained
by any praetorian mandate. Should it ever happen (may the gods avert the
omen!), should it ever happen, I say, that the religion of our forefathers
will be supplanted by the religion of Jesus, it will be to this noble
toleration that Rome shall owe her premature death, while I, miserable
wretch, will have been the instrument of what the Jews call Providence,
and we call destiny.
This unlimited freedom granted to Jesus provoked the Jews--not the poor,
but the rich and powerful. It is true, Jesus was severe on the latter,
and this was a political reason, in my opinion, for not restraining the
liberty of the Nazarene. "Scribes and Pharisees," he would say
to them, "you are a race of vipers; you resemble painted sepulchres;
you appear well unto men, but you have death within you." At other
times he would sneer at the alms of the rich and proud, telling them that
the mite of the poor was more precious in the sight of God. Complaints
were daily made at the praetorium against the insolence of Jesus.
I was informed that some misfortune would befall him; that it would not
be the first time that Jerusalem had stoned those who called themselves
prophets; an appeal would be made to Caesar. However, my conduct was approved
by the Senate, and I was promised a reinforcement after the termination
of the Parthian war.
Being too weak to suppress an insurrection, I resolved upon adopting a measure
that promised to restore the tranquility of the city without subjecting
the praetorium to humiliating concession. I wrote to Jesus, requesting
an interview with him at the praetorium. He came. You know that in my
veins flows the Spanish mixed with Roman blood--as incapable of fear as
it is of weak emotion. When the Nazarene made his appearance, I was walking
in my basilic, and my feet seemed fastened with an iron hand to the marble
pavement, and I trembled in every limb as does a guilty culprit, though
the Nazarene was as calm as innocence itself.
When he came up to me, he stopped, and by a signal sign he seemed to say
to me, "I am here," though he spoke not a word. For some time
I contemplated with admiration and awe this extraordinary type of man--a
type of man unknown to our numerous painters, who have given form and
figure to all the gods and the heroes. There was nothing about him that
was repelling in its character, yet I felt too awed and tremulous to approach
him.
"Jesus," said I unto him at last--and my tongue faltered--"Jesus
of Nazareth, for the last three years I have granted you ample freedom
of speech; nor do I regret it. Your words are those of a sage. I know
not whether you have read Socrates or Plato, but this I know, there is
in your discourses a majestic simplicity that elevates you far above those
philosophers. The Emperor is informed of it, and I, his humble representative
in this country, am glad of having allowed you that liberty of which you
are so worthy. However, I must not conceal from you that your discourses
have raised up against you powerful and inveterate enemies.
"Nor is this surprising. Socrates had his enemies, and he fell a victim
to their hatred. Yours are doubly incensed--against you on account of
your discourses being so severe upon their conduct; against me on account
of the liberty I have afforded you. They even accuse me of being indirectly
leagued with you for the purpose of depriving the Hebrews of the little
civil power, which Rome has left them. My request--I do not say my order--is,
that you be more circumspect and moderate in your discourses in the future,
and more considerate of them, lest you arouse the pride of your enemies,
and they raise against you the stupid populace, and compel me to employ
the instruments of law."
The Nazarene calmly replied, "Prince of the earth, your words proceed
not from true wisdom. Say to the torrent to stop in the midst of the mountain-gorge;
it will uproot the trees of the valley. The torrent will answer you that
it obeys the laws of nature and the creator. God alone knows whither flow
the waters of the torrent. Verily I say unto you, before the rose of Sharon
blossoms, the blood of the Just shall be spilt."
"Your blood shall not be spilt," said I with deep emotion; "you
are more precious in my estimation on account of your wisdom than all
the turbulent and proud Pharisees who abuse the freedom granted them by
the Romans. They conspire against Caesar, and convert his bounty into
fear, impressing the unlearned that Caesar is a tyrant and seeks their
ruin. Insolent wretches! They are not aware that the wolf of the Tiber
sometimes clothes himself with the skin of the sheep to accomplish his
wicked designs. I will protect you against them. My praetorium shall be
an asylum, sacred both day and night."
Jesus carelessly shook his head, and said with a grave and divine smile:
"When the day shall have come, there will be no asylums for the son
of man, neither in the earth nor under the earth. The asylum of the just
is there," pointing to the heavens. "That which is written in
the books of the prophets must be accomplished."
"Young man," I answered mildly, "you will oblige me to convert
my request into an order. The safety of the province, which has been confided
to my care, requires it. You must observe more moderation in your discourses.
Do not infringe my order. You know the consequences. May happiness attend
you; farewell."
"Prince of the earth," replied Jesus, "I come not to bring
war into the world, but peace, love, and charity. I was born the same
day on which Augustus gave peace to the Roman world. Persecutions proceed
not from me. I expect it from others, and will meet it in obedience to
the will of my Father, who has shown me the way. Restrain, therefore,
your worldly prudence. It is not in your power to arrest the victim at
the foot of the tabernacle of expiation."
So saying, he disappeared like a bright shadow behind the curtain of the
basilic--to my great relief, for I felt a heavy burden on me, of which
I could not relieve myself while in his presence.
To Herod, who then reigned in Galilee, the enemies of Jesus addressed themselves,
to wreak their vengeance on the Nazarene. Had Herod consulted his own
inclinations, he would have ordered Jesus immediately to be put to death;
but, though proud of his royal dignity, yet he hesitated to commit an
act that might lessen his influence with the Senate, or, like me, was
afraid of Jesus. But it would never do for a Roman officer to be scared
by a Jew. Previously to this, Herod called on me at the praetorium, and,
on rising to take leave, after some trifling conversation, asked me what
was my opinion concerning the Nazarene. I replied that Jesus appeared
to me to be one of those great philosophers that great nations sometimes
produced; that his doctrines were by no means sacrilegious, and that the
intentions of Rome were to leave him to that freedom of speech which was
justified by his actions. Herod smiled maliciously, and, saluting me with
ironical respect, departed.
The great feast of the Jews was approaching, and the intention was to avail
themselves of the popular exultation which always manifests itself at
the solemnities of a Passover. The city was overflowing with a tumultuous
populace, clamoring for the death of the Nazarene. My emissaries informed
me that the treasure of the temple had been employed in bribing the people.
The danger was pressing. A Roman centurion had been insulted. I wrote
to the Prefect of Syria for a hundred foot-soldiers and as many cavalry.
He declined. I saw myself alone with a handful of veterans in the midst
of a rebellious city, too weak to suppress an uprising, and having no
choice left but to tolerate it. They had seized upon Jesus, and the seditious
rabble, although they had nothing to fear from the praetorium, believing,
as their leaders had told them, that I winked at their sedition--continued
vociferating: "Crucify Him! Crucify Him!"
Three powerful parties had combined together at the time against Jesus:
First, the Herodians and the Sadducees, whose seditious conduct seemed
to have proceeded from double motives: they hated the Nazarene and were
impatient of the Roman yoke. They never forgave me for having entered
the holy city with banners that bore the image of the Roman emperor; and
although in this instance I had committed a fatal error, yet the sacrilege
did not appear less heinous in their eyes. Another grievance also rankled
in their bosoms. I had proposed to employ a part of the treasure of the
temple in erecting edifices for public use. My proposal was scorned.
The Pharisees were the avowed enemies of Jesus. They cared not for the government.
They bore with bitterness the severe reprimands which the Nazarene for
three years had been continually giving them wherever he went. Timid and
too weak to act by themselves, they had embraced the quarrels of the Herodians
and the Sadducees. Besides these three parties, I had to contend against
the reckless and profligate populace, always ready to join a sedition,
and to profit by the disorder and confusion that resulted therefrom.
Jesus was dragged before the High Priest and condemned to death. It was
then that the High Priest, Caiaphas, performed a divisory act of submission.
He sent his prisoner to me to confirm his condemnation and secure his
execution. I answered him that, as Jesus was a Galilean, the affair came
under Herod's jurisdiction, and ordered him to be sent thither. The wily
tetrarch professed humility, and, protesting his deference to the lieutenant
of Caesar, he committed the fate of the man to my hands. Soon my palace
assumed the aspect of a besieged citadel. Every moment increased the number
of the malcontents. Jerusalem was inundated with crowds from the mountains
of Nazareth. All Judea appeared to be pouring into the city.
I had taken a wife from among the Gauls, who pretended to see into futurity.
Weeping and throwing herself at my feet, she said to me: "Beware,
beware, and touch not that man; for he is holy. Last night I saw him in
a vision. He was walking on the waters; he was flying on the wings of
the wind. He spoke to the tempest and to the fishes of the lake; all were
obedient to him. Behold, the torrent in Mount Kedron flows with blood,
the statues of Caesar are filled with gemonide; the columns of the interium
have given way; and the sun is veiled in mourning like a vestal in the
tomb. Ah! Pilate, evil awaits thee. If thou wilt not listen to the vows
of thy wife, dread the curse of a Roman Senate; dread the frowns of Caesar."
By this time the marble stair groaned under the weight of the multitude.
The Nazarene was brought back to me. I proceeded to the halls of justice,
followed by my guard, and asked the people in a severe tone what they
demanded.
"The death of the Nazarene," was the reply.
"For what crime?"
"He has blasphemed; he has prophesied the ruin of the temple; he calls
himself the Son of God, the Messiah, the King of the Jews."
"Roman justice," said I, "punishes not such offences with
death."
"Crucify him! Crucify him!" cried the relentless rabble. The vociferations
of the infuriated mob shook the palace to its foundations.
There was but one who appeared to be calm in the midst of the vast multitude;
it was the Nazarene. After many fruitless attempts to protect him from
the fury of his merciless persecutors, I adopted a measure which at the
moment appeared to me to be the only one that could save his life. I proposed,
as it was their custom to deliver a prisoner on such occasions, to release
Jesus and let him go free, that he might be the scapegoat, as they called
it; but they said Jesus must be crucified.
I then spoke to them of the inconsistency of their course as being incompatible
with their laws, showing that no criminal judge could pass sentence on
a criminal unless he had fasted one whole day; and that the sentence must
have the consent of the Sanhedrin, and the signature of the president
of that court; that no criminal could be executed on the same day his
sentence was fixed, and the next day, on the day of his execution, the
Sanhedrin was required to review the whole proceeding; also, according
to their law, a man was stationed a short way off on horseback to cry
the name of the criminal and his crime, and the names of his witnesses,
and to know if any one could testify in his favor; and the prisoner on
his way to execution had the right to turn back three times and to plead
any new thing in his favor. I urged all these pleas, hoping they might
awe them into subjection; but they still cried, "Crucify him! Crucify
him!"
I then ordered Jesus to be scourged, hoping this might satisfy them; but
it only increased their fury. I then called for a basin, and washed my
hands in the presence of the clamorous multitude, thus testifying that
in my judgment Jesus of Nazareth had done nothing deserving of death;
but in vain. It was his life these wretches thirsted for.
Often in our civil commotions have I witnessed the furious anger of the
multitude, but nothing could be compared to what I witnessed on this occasion.
It might have been truly said that all the phantoms of the infernal regions
had assembled at Jerusalem. The crowd appeared not to walk, but to be
borne off and whirled as a vortex, rolling along in living waves from
the portals of the praetorium even unto Mount Zion, with howling screams,
shrieks, and vociferations such as were never heard in the seditions of
the Pannonia, or in the tumults of the forum.
By degrees the day darkened like a winter's twilight, such as had been at
the death of the great Julius Caesar. It was likewise the Ides of March.
I, the continued governor of a rebellious province, was leaning against
a column of my basilic, contemplating athwart the dreary gloom these fiends
of Tartarus dragging to execution the innocent Nazarene. All around me
was deserted. Jerusalem had vomited forth her indwellers through the funeral
gate that leads to Gemonica.
An air of desolation and sadness enveloped me. My guards had joined the
cavalry, and the centurion, with a display of power, was endeavoring to
keep order. I was left alone, and my breaking heart admonished me that
what was passing at that moment appertained rather to the history of the
gods than that of men. A loud clamor was heard proceeding from Golgotha,
which, borne on the winds, seemed to announce an agony such as was never
heard by mortal ears. Dark clouds lowered over the pinnacle of the temple,
and setting over the city covered it as with a veil. So dreadful were
the signs that men saw both in the heavens and on the earth that Dionysius
the Aeropagite is reported to have exclaimed, 'Either the author of nature
is suffering or the universe is falling apart.'
Whilst these appalling scenes of nature were transpiring, there was a dreadful
earthquake in lower Egypt, which filled everybody with fear, and scared
the superstitious Jews almost to death. It is said Balthasar, an aged
and learned Jew of Antioch, was found dead after the excitement was over.
Whether he died from alarm or grief is not known. He was a strong friend
of the Nazarene.
Near the first hour of the night, I threw my mantle around me and went down
into the city toward the gates of Golgotha. The sacrifice was consummated.
The crowd was returning home, still agitated, it is true, but gloomy,
taciturn, and desperate. What they had witnessed had stricken them with
terror and remorse. I also saw my little Roman cohort pass by mournfully,
the standard-bearer having veiled his eagle in token of grief; and I overheard
some of the Jewish soldiers murmuring strange words, which I did not understand.
Others were recounting miracles very like those which have so often smitten
the Romans by the will of the gods. Sometimes, groups of men and women
would halt, then, looking back toward Mount Calvary, would remain motionless
in expectation of witnessing some new prodigy.
I returned to the praetorium, sad and pensive. On ascending the stairs,
the steps of which were still stained with the blood of the Nazarene,
I perceived an old man in a suppliant posture, and behind him several
Romans in tears. He threw himself at my feet and wept most bitterly. It
is painful to see an old man weep, and my heart being already overcharged
with grief, we, though strangers, wept together. And in truth it seemed
that the tears lay very shallow that day with many whom I perceived in
the vast concourse of people. I never witnessed such an extreme revulsion
of feeling. Those who betrayed and sold him, those who testified against
him, those who cried, "Crucify him, we have his blood," all
slunk off like cowardly curs, and washed their teeth with vinegar. As
I am told that Jesus taught a resurrection after death, if such should
be the fact, I am sure it commenced in this vast crowd.
"Father," said I to him, after gaining control of my feelings,
"who are you, and what is your request?"
"I am Joseph of Arimathea," replied he, "and am come to beg
of you upon my knees the permission to bury Jesus of Nazareth."
"Your prayer is granted," said I to him; and at the same time
I ordered Manlius to take some soldiers with him to superintend the interment,
lest it should be profaned.
A few days after, the sepulchre was found empty. His disciples proclaimed
all over the country that Jesus had risen from the dead, as he had foretold.
This created more excitement even than the crucifixion. As to its truth,
I cannot say for certain, but I have made some investigation of the matter;
so you can examine for yourself, and see if I am in fault, as Herod represents.
Joseph buried Jesus in his own tomb. Whether he contemplated his resurrection
or calculated to cut him another, I cannot tell. The day after he was
buried [i.e., Saturday] one of the priests came to the praetorium and
said they were apprehensive that his disciples intended to steal the body
of Jesus and hide it, and then make it appear that he had risen from the
dead, as he had foretold, and of which they were perfectly convinced.
I sent him to the captain of the royal guard (Malcus) to tell him to take
the Jewish soldiers, place as many around the sepulchre as were needed;
then if anything should happen, they could blame themselves, and not the
Romans.
When the great excitement arose about the sepulchre being found empty, I
felt a deeper solicitude than ever. I sent for Malcus, who told he had
placed his lieutenant, Ben Isham, with one hundred soldiers, around the
sepulchre. He told me that Isham and the soldiers were very much alarmed
at what had occurred there that morning. I sent for this man, Isham, who
related to me, as near as I can recollect the following circumstances:
He said that at about the beginning of the fourth watch they saw
a soft and beautiful light over the sepulchre. He at first thought that
the women had come to embalm the body of Jesus, as was their custom, but
he could not see how they had gotten through the guards. While these thoughts
were passing through his mind, behold, the whole place was lighted up,
and there seemed to be crowds of the dead in their grave-clothes. All
seemed to be shouting and filled with ecstasy, while all around and above
was the most beautiful music he had ever heard; and the whole air seemed
to be full of voices praising God. At this time there seemed to be a reeling
and swimming of the earth, so that he turned so sick and faint that he
could not stand on his feet. He said the earth seemed to swim from under
him, and his senses left him, so that he knew not what did occur. I asked
him in what condition he was when he came to himself. He said he was lying
on the ground with his face down. I asked him if he could not have been
mistaken as to the light. Was it not day that was coming in the East?
He said at first he thought of that, but at a stone's cast it was exceedingly
dark; and then he remembered it was too early for day
I asked him if his dizziness might not have come from being wakened up and
getting up too suddenly, as it sometimes had that effect. He said he was
not, and had not been asleep all night, as the penalty was death for him
to sleep on duty. He said he had let some of the soldiers sleep at a time.
Some were asleep then. I asked him how long the scene lasted. He said
he did not know, but he thought nearly an hour. He said it was hid by
the light of day. I asked him if he went to the sepulchre after he had
come to himself. He said no, because he was afraid; that just as soon
as relief came, they all went to their quarters.
I asked him if he had been questioned by the priests. He said they had.
They wanted him to say it was an earthquake, and that they were asleep,
and offered him money to say that the disciples came and stole Jesus;
but he saw no disciples; he did not know that the body was gone until
he was told. I asked him what was the private opinion of those priests
he had conversed with. He said that some of them thought that Jesus was
no man; that he was not a human being; that he was not the son of Mary;
that he was not the same that was said to be born of the virgin in Bethlehem;
that the same persons had been on the earth before with Abraham and Lot,
and at many times and places.
It seems to me that, if the Jewish theory be true, these conclusions are
correct, for they are in accord with this man's life, as is known and
testified by both friends and foes, for the elements were no more in his
hands than the clay in the hands of the potter. He could convert water
into wine; he could change death into life, disease into health; he could
calm the seas, still the storms, call up fish with a silver coin in its
mouth. Now, I say, if he could do all these things, which he did, and
many more, as the Jews all testify, and it was doing these things that
created this enmity against him--he was not charged with criminal offenses,
nor was he charged with violating any law, nor of wronging any individual
in person, and all these facts are known to thousands, as well by his
foes as by his enemies--I am almost ready to say, as did Manlius at the
cross, "Truly, this was the Son of God."
Now, noble Sovereign, this is as near the facts in the case as I can arrive
at, and I have taken pains to make the statement very full, so that you
may judge of my conduct upon the whole, as I hear that Antipater has said
many hard things of me in this matter. With the promise of faithfulness
and good wishes to my noble Sovereign,
I am your most obedient servant,
Pontius Pilate