Pilate's Wife

While Pilate was sitting on the judge’s seat, his wife sent him this message: “Don’t have anything to do with that innocent man, for I have suffered a great deal today in a dream because of him.” (Matthew 27:19)

Years later, when she looked back on that day, she was filled with a combination of both grief and joy. It was a strange mixture considering the appalling events of the day.

She remembered it clearly 30 years later.

Her husband had been about his business as usual. He was Pontius Pilate, the governor of Judea, one of the hardest places on earth to govern. These people were maniacs. They didn’t listen to reason or accept authority in any way except their own. They went, not to the wisdom of the emperor for their advice on living, but to some old tattered scroll written gods knew how many years ago.

It was just plain silly. And Pontius had had nothing but trouble from them from the first day he came in. That first time he entered Jerusalem with all of his trappings, all of his standards and representations. He told them that this was the beginning of a new day, that he would bring them, kicking and screaming if need be, into the new order.

They could take it or he would kill a few. That would show them.

However, to our utter astonishment, the older leaders first and then after a moment all of them knelt down, bared their necks and invited him to go ahead and kill them. They said they would rather die than disobey their god’s law.

Of course, Pontius backed down. They were like rabid dogs.

And now, they had this guy who was a teacher of some kind that they hated. And they brought him to Pontius to see if he would kill him for them. He said no, of course. The man hadn’t done anything much wrong except teach. It wasn’t like he led an insurrection or anything.

But they insisted, even hinting that they would tell the emperor that he was disloyal. He didn’t need that. The reason he was here in the godforsaken country in the first place was because the senate in Rome and all were mad at him for some things he had done and were punishing him. He didn’t deserve these people, but what could he do? Either resign or go here.

And now, there was almost a full scale revolt right in front of him.

But this afternoon, I had a dream. I am not sure what it was, but it left a large fear in me, fear on behalf of this man, this Jesus.

I told Pontius not to do anything with him, that he was innocent. I said that I did not think I could stand it if you killed him. I thought he might even be an emissary of the gods.

And sure enough, Pontius washed his hands of the whole mess and told them to go do what they wanted. He wasn’t responsible for other people did, was he? They had their own minds. And they were crazy. He sure couldn’t do much there.

I was disappointed in him that he gave Jesus to the soldiers to beat and torture. They are horrible men.

So the Jews did kill him. Along with the help of the soldiers, they killed him in a horrible way. I have never liked crucifixion. It is messy and it looks so painful. You hear the guys screaming and moaning. It destroys my appetite every time there is a mass crucifixion.

But this time, I thought and thought about it. It almost destroyed my soul.

Fifty days later, I was near the temple – we don’t live far from it anyway – and a group of people began to talk about the man, about Jesus. They told what he had done and where he had come from.

He had not come from the gods, which is what I had expected. He was from The God, and he was not only from The God, he was the Son of The God.

And I believed it and gave my heart to him right there.

Of course, no one would let me go to their church, since I was Roman, so I worshipped in the governor’s palace. Soon I had several that were believers with me. We were Christ-followers.

It wasn’t long before Pilate left Judea. He was never the same. He died not long afterwards. By that time, Gentiles (which is what I found out I was to my surprise) were welcomed into the church.

We had decided to retire to our villa in Rome. After Pontius died, I helped a number of people find the Christ, the Lord.

And now, 30 years later – who can believe it – I am part of his church here in Rome. One of the apostles, Matthew, wrote about me in a letter that is circulating through the churches. That was a pleasant surprise, although it also brought up again the disappointment in preventing what happened.

But then again if it had been prevented, I would not know the Lord now.

So every time I think about that day, it is with a mixture of grief and joy. Grief that he had to die, joy that he did anyway and gave me life.

It is a long was for the daughter of a vineyard owner from Rome and the wife of a federal governor to come. Praise God that I have.