The Dream of Pilate’s Wife

DELIVERED ON LORD'S-DAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 26, 1882,

BY C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.

"When he was set down on the judgment seat, his wife sent unto him,
saying, Have you nothing to do with thatjust Man: for I have suffered
many things this day in a dream because of Him." Matthew 27:19.

I EARNESTLY wished to pursue the story of our Savior's trials previous
to His Crucifixion, but when I sat down to study the subject I found
myself altogether incapable of the exercise. "When I thought to know
this, it was too painful for me." My emotions grew so strong and my
sense of our Lord's grief became so extremely vivid that I felt I must
waive the subject for a time. I could not watch with Him another hour
and yet I could not leave the hallowed scene! It was, therefore, a
relief to meet with the episode of Pilate's wife and her dream. It
enables me to continue the thread of my narrative and yet to relax the
extreme tension of the feelings caused by a near view of the Master's
grief and shame.

My spirit failed before the terrible sight. I thought I saw Him brought
back from Herod where the men of war had set Him at naught. I followed
Him through the streets, again, as the cruel priests pushed through the
crowd and hastened Him back to Pilate's hall. I thought I heard them in
the streets electing Barabbas, the robber, to be set free, instead of
Jesus, the Savior, and I detected the first rising of that awful cry,
"Crucify, crucify," which they shrieked out from their bloodthirsty
throats! And there He stood, who loved me and gave Himself for me, like
a lamb in the midst of wolves, with none to pity and none to help Him.

The vision overwhelmed me, especially when I knew that the next stage
would be that Pilate, who had cleared Him, by declaring, "I find no
fault in Him," would give Him over to the tormentors that He might be
scourged, that the mercenary soldiery would crown Him with thorns and
mercilessly insult Him–and that He would be brought forth to the
people and announced to them with those heart-rending words, "Behold
the Man!" Was there ever sorrow like His sorrow? Rather than speak
about it this day, I feel inclined to act like Job's friends, of whom
it is written, that at the sight of him, "they lifted up their voices
and wept; and sat down with him upon the ground seven days and seven
nights, and none spoke a word unto him: for they saw that his grief was
very great."

We leave the Master awhile to look at this dream of Pilate's wife which
is only spoken of once in the Scriptures–by Matthew. I know not why
only that Evangelist should have been commissioned to record it.
Perhaps he, alone, heard of it, but the one record is sufficient for
our faith–and long enough to furnish food for meditation. We receive
the story as certified by the Holy Spirit. Pilate, throughout his term
of office, had grossly misbehaved himself. He had been an unjust and
unscrupulous ruler of the Jews. The Galileans and the Samaritans, both,
felt the terror of his arms, for he did not hesitate to massacre them
at the slightest sign of revolt. And among the Jews, he had sent men
with daggers into the midst of the crowds at the great gatherings and
so had cut off those who were obnoxious to him.

Gain was his objective and pride ruled his spirit. At the time when
Jesus of Nazareth was brought before him, a complaint against him was
on the way to Tiberius the Emperor, and he feared lest he should be
called to account for his oppressions, extortions and murders. His sins
at this moment were beginning to punish him, as Job would word it, "The
iniquities of his heels compassed him about." One terrible portion of
the penalty of sin is its power to force a man to commit yet farther
iniquity. Pilate's transgressions were now howling around him like a
pack of wolves–he could not face them and he had not Grace to flee to
the One Great Refuge!

But his fears drove him to flee before them and there was no way,
apparently, open for him but that which led him into yet deeper
abominations. He knew that Jesus was without a single fault and yet,
since the Jews clamored for His death, he felt that he must yield to
their demands, or else they would raise another accusation against him,
namely, that he was not loyal to the sovereignty of Caesar, for he had
allowed One to escape who had called Himself a King. If he had behaved
justly, he would not have been afraid of the chief priests and scribes.
Innocence is brave, but guilt is cowardly.

Pilate's old sins found him out and made him weak in the presence of
the ignoble crew, whom otherwise he would have driven from the judgment
seat.

He had power enough to have silenced them, but he had not sufficient
decision of character to end the contention. The power was gone from
his mind because he knew that his conduct would not bear investigation
and he dreaded the loss of his office, which he held only for his own
ends. See there with pity that scornful but vacillating creature
wavering in the presence of men who were more wicked than himself and
more determined in their purpose! The fell determination of the wicked
priests caused hesitating policy to quail in their presence and Pilate
was driven to do what he would gladly have avoided. The manner and the
words of Jesus had impressed Pilate. I say the manner of Jesus, for His
matchless meekness must have struck the governor as being a very
unusual thing in a prisoner.

He had seen, in captured Jews, the fierce courage of fanaticism, but
there was no fanaticism in Christ! He had also seen in many prisoners
the meanness which will do or say anything to escape from death–but he
saw nothing of that about our Lord. He saw in Him unusual gentleness
and humility combined with majestic dignity. He beheld submission
blended with innocence! This made Pilate feel how awful goodness is. He
was impressed–he could not help being impressed with this unique
Sufferer. Besides, our Lord had before him witnessed a good
confession–you remember how we considered it the other day–and though
Pilate had huffed it off with the pert question, "What is truth?" and
had gone back into the judgment hall, yet there was an arrow fixed
within him which he could not shake off.

It may have been mainly superstition, but he felt an awe of One whom he
half suspected to be an extraordinary Person. He felt that he, himself,
was placed in a very extraordinary position, being asked to condemn One
whom he knew to be perfectly innocent. His duty was clear enough–he
could never have had a question about that–but duty was nothing to
Pilate in comparison with his own interests! He would spare the Just
One if he could do so without endangering himself, but his cowardly
fears lashed him on to the shedding of innocent blood. At the very
moment when he was vacillating–when he had proffered to the Jews the
choice of Barabbas, or Jesus of Nazareth. At that very moment, I say,
when he had taken his seat upon the bench and was waiting for their
choice–there came from the hand of God a warning to him–a warning
which would forever make it clear that if he condemned Jesus, it would
be done voluntarily by his own guilty hands.

Jesus must die by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God and
yet, it must be by wicked hands that He is crucified and slain. And,
therefore, Pilate must not sin in ignorance. A warning to Pilate came
from his own wife concerning her morning's dream, a vision of mystery
and terror–warning him not to touch that just Person–"For," she said,
"I have suffered many things this day in a dream because of Him." There
are times in most men's lives when, though they have been wrong, yet
they have not quite been set on mischief, but have come to a pause and
have deliberated as to their way. And then God, in great mercy, has
sent them a caution and has set up a danger signal bidding them stop in
their mad career before they plunged themselves finally into
irretrievable ruin! Somewhere in that direction lies the subject of our
present discourse. O that the Spirit of God may make it useful to many!

I. And, first, I call your attention to THE COOPERATION OF PROVIDENCE
WITH THE WORK OF GOD. I call it the work of God to warn men against sin
and I call your attention to Providence working with it to bring the
preventives and cautions of Divine Mercy home to men's minds. For,
first, observe the Providence of God in sending this dream. If anything
beneath the moon may be thought to be exempt from law and to be the
creature of pure chance, surely it is a dream! True, there were, in old
times, dreams in which God spoke to men prophetically–but ordinarily
they are the carnival of thought, a maze of mental states–a dance of
disorder!

The dreams which would naturally come to the wife of a Roman governor
would not be likely to have much of tenderness or conscience in them
and would not, in all probability, of themselves, run in the line of
mercy. Dreams ordinarily are the most disorderly of phenomena and yet
it seems that they are ordered of the Lord. I can well understand that
every drop of spray which flashes from the wave, when it dashes against
the cliff, has its appointed orbit as truly as the stars of Heaven–but
the thoughts of men appear to be utterly lawless, especially the
thoughts of men when deep sleep falls upon them! As well might one
foretell the flight of a bird as the course of a dream!

Such wild fantasies seem to be ungoverned and ungovernable. Many things
operate naturally to fashion a dream. Dreams frequently depend upon the
condition of the stomach, upon the meat and drink taken by the sleeper
before going to rest. They often owe their shape to the state of the
body or the agitation of the mind. Dreams may, no doubt, be caused

by that which transpires in the chamber of the house–a little movement
of the bed caused by passing wheels, or the tramp of a band of men, or
the passing of a domestic across the floor–or even the running of a
mouse behind the wainscot may suggest and shape a dream.

Any slight matter affecting the senses at such time may raise within
the slumbering mind a mob of strange ideas. Yet whatever may have
operated in this lady's case, the hand of Providence was in it all, and
her mind, though fancy free, wandered nowhere but just according to the
will of God to effect the Divine purpose! She must dream just so and no
way else! And that dream must be of such-and-such an order, and none
other! Even dreamland knows no god but God and even phantoms and
shadows come and go at His bidding–neither can the images of a night
vision escape from the supreme authority of the Most High.

See the Providence of God in the fact that the dream of Pilate's wife,
however caused, should be of such a form and come at such a time as
this! Certain old writers trace her dream to the devil, who thus hoped
to prevent the death of our Lord and so prevent our redemption. I do
not agree with the notion! But even if it were so, I admire all the
more the Providence which overrules even the devices of Satan for the
purposes of wisdom! Pilate must be warned so that his sentence may be
his own act and deed. And that warning is given him through his wife's
dream. So does Providence work.

Note, next, the Providence of God in arranging that with this dream
there should be great mental suffering. "I have suffered many things in
a dream concerning Him!" I cannot tell what vision passed before her
mind's eye, but it was one which caused her terrible agony. A modern
artist has painted a picture of what he imagined the dream to be, but I
shall not attempt to follow that great man in the exercise of fancy.
Pilate's wife may have realized in her sleep the dreadful spectacle of
the crown of thorns and the scourge, or even of the Crucifixion and the
death agony. And, truly, I know of nothing more calculated to make the
heart suffer many things concerning the Lord Jesus than a glance at His
death! Around the Cross there gathers grief enough to cause many a
sleepless night if the soul has any tenderness left in it.

Or her dream may have been of quite another kind. She may have seen in
vision the Just One coming in the clouds of Heaven. Her mind may have
pictured Him upon the Great White Throne, even the Man whom her husband
was about to condemn to die. She may have seen her husband brought
forth to judgment, himself a prisoner to be tried by the Just One, who
had before been accused before him. She may have awaken, startled at
the shriek of her husband as he fell back into the Pit that knows no
bottom! Whatever it was, she had suffered repeated painful emotions in
the dream, and she awoke startled and amazed! The terror of the night
was upon her and it threatened to become a terror to her for all her
days and she, therefore, hastens to stay her husband's hand.

Now, herein is the hand of God and the simple story goes to prove that
the wandering of dreamland are still under His control–and He can
cause them to produce distress and anguish–if some grand end is to be
served thereby. Equally remarkable is it that she should have sent to
her husband the message, "Have nothing to do with that just Man." Most
dreams we quite forget. A few we mention as remarkable, but only now
and then is one impressed upon us so that we remember it for years.
Scarcely have any of you had a dream which made you send a message to a
magistrate upon the bench. Such an intention would only be resorted to
in an urgent case. Though the judge were your own husband, you would be
very hard-pressed before you would worry him with your dreams while he
was occupied with important public business.

Mostly a dream may wait till business is over. But so deep was the
impression upon this Roman lady's mind that she does not wait until her
lord comes home, but sends to him at once. Her advice is urgent–"Have
you nothing to do with that just Man." She must warn him now, before he
has laid a stroke on Him, much less stained his hands in His blood.
Not, "Have a little to do and scourge Him and let Him go," but, "Have
you nothing to do with Him. Say not an unkind word, nor do Him any
injury! Deliver Him from His adversaries! If He must die, let it be by
some other hand than yours! My Husband, my Husband, my Husband, I
beseech you, have nothing to do with that just Man. Let Him alone, I
pray you!"

She words her message very emphatically. "Have you nothing to do with
that just Man: for I have suffered many things in a dream concerning
Him. Think of your wife! Think of yourself! Let my sufferings about
this Holy One be a warning to you. For my sake let Him alone!" And yet,
do you know, her message, to my ear, sounds rather authoritative for a
woman to her husband, and he a judge! There is a tone about it that is
not ordinarily in the address of wives to husbands. "Have you nothing
to do with this just Man: for I have suffered many things this day in a
dream because of Him."

It shows a wonderful Providence of God that this lady was moved to send
so strong a message to her self-willed husband–to beseech, to entreat,
to implore–almost to demand of him that he let this just Man go. O
Providence, how mightily can you work! O Lord, the seraphim obey You,
but You find an equally willing servitor in a wife who, at Your
bidding, stands between her husband and a crime!

Once more, about this Providence I want you to notice the peculiar time
in which her warning came. It was evidently a dream of the morning–"I
have suffered many things in a dream this day." The day had not long
broken–it was yet early in the morning. The Romans had a superstition
that morning dreams are true. I suppose it was after her husband had
left her that she thus dreamed. If I may be allowed not to state a
fact, but to make a conjecture, which seems to me most probable, she
was a dearly beloved wife, but sickly and, therefore, needed to rest
further into the day than her husband. And when he had left his couch,
she had yet another sleep. And being a sensitive person and all the
more likely to dream, she awoke from her morning sleep oppressed with a
terror which she could not shake off. Pilate was gone and she was told
that he was in the judgment hall.

She asked her attendants why he was there so early and they replied
that there had been an unusual clamor in the courtyard, for the High
Priests and a mob of Jews had been there and the governor had gone out
to them. They might, perhaps, also tell her that Jesus of Nazareth was
brought there a prisoner and the priests were entreating Pilate to put
Him to death, though they had heard the governor say that he found no
fault in Him. "Go," she said to her maid, "call to one of the guards
and bid him go at once to my husband and say what I tell you. Let him
speak aloud, that some of the cruel Jews may hear it, and be moved from
their cruel purpose. Let him say that I implore my husband to have
nothing to do with that just Man, for I have suffered many things this
very morning in a dream concerning Him."

Just at the moment, you see, when Pilate had sat down on the judgment
seat, the warning came to him. When there was a little lull and he was
anxious to acquit his Prisoner–at that instant of time which was the
most hopeful, this weight was thrown into the right side of the
scale–thrown in most wisely and mercifully to keep back Pilate from
his grievous sin. The warning came at the nick of time, as we say,
though, alas, it came in vain! Admire the punctuality of Providence!
God never is before His time. He never is too late. It shall be seen
concerning all that He does that on the same day determined by the
prophecy, the fulfillment came. My soul stands trembling while she
sings the glory of her God, whose Providence is high, even like
Ezekiel's wheels! But the wheels are full of eyes and, as they turn,
all the surroundings are observed and provided for so that there are no
slips, or oversights, or accidents, or delays. Prompt and effectual is
the operation of the Lord!

Thus much concerning Providence and I think you will all agree that my
point is proven–that Providence is always co-working with the Grace of
God. A great writer who knows but little about Divine things, yet,
nevertheless, tells us that he perceives a power in the world which
works for righteousness. Exactly so! It is well spoken, for this is the
chief of all powers! When you and I go out to warn men of sin, we are
not alone, all Providence is at our back! When we preach Christ
Crucified, we are workers, together, with God! God is working with us
as well as by us! Everything that happens is driving towards the end
for which we work when we seek to convince men of sin and of
righteousness. Where the Spirit of God is, all the forces of Nature and
Providence are mustered!

The fall of empires, the death of despots, the rising up of nations,
the making or the breaking of treaties, terrific wars and blighting
famines–are all working out the grand end! Yes, and domestic matters,
such as the death of children, the sickness of wives, the loss of work,
the poverty of the family and a thousand other things are working,
working, always working for the improvement of men. And you and I,
lending our poor feebleness to cooperate with God, are marching with
all the forces of the universe! Have comfort, then, in this, O workers
for Jesus! Suffering many things for Him, be of good courage, for the
stars in their courses fight for the servants of the living God! And
the stones of the field are in league with you!

II. Secondly, I gather from this story THE ACCESSIBILITY OF CONSCIENCE
TO GOD. How are we to reach Pilate? How are we to warn him? He has
rejected the voice of Jesus and the sight of Jesus–could not Peter be
fetched to expostulate with him? Alas, Peter has denied his Master.
Could not John be brought in? Even he has forsaken the Lord! Where
shall a messenger be found? It shall be found in a dream–God can get
at men's hearts, however hardened they may be. Never give them up,
never despair of awakening them. If my ministry, your ministry and the
ministry of the

blessed Book should all seem to be nothing, God can reach the
conscience by a dream! If the sword comes not at them at close
quarters, yet what seems but a stray arrow from a bow drawn at a
venture shall find the joints in their harness.

We ought to believe in God about wicked men and never say of them, "It
is impossible that they should be converted." The Lord can wound
leviathan, for His weapons are many and they are suited to the foe. I
do not think a dream would operate upon my mind to convince me, but
certain minds lie open in that direction, and to them a dream may be a
power. God may use even superstition to accomplish His beneficent
purposes. Many besides Pilate have been warned by dreams. Better still,
Pilate was accessible through the dream of his wife. Henry Melvill has
a very wonderful discourse upon this topic, in which he tries to show
that probably, if Pilate had dreamed this dream, himself, it would not
have been so operative upon him as when his wife dreamed it. He takes
it as a supposition, which nobody can deny, that Pilate had an
affectionate and tender wife who was very dear to him. The one brief
narrative which we have of her certainly looks that way–it is evident
that she loved her husband dearly–and would, therefore, prevent his
acting unjustly to Jesus.

To send a warning by her was to reach Pilate's conscience through his
affections. If his beloved wife was distressed, it would be sure to
weigh heavily with him, for he would not have her troubled. He would
gladly shield his tender one from every breath of wind and give her
perfect comfort. And when she pleads, it is his delight to yield. It
is, therefore, no small trouble to him that she is suffering–suffering
so much as to send a message to him. She was suffering because of One
who deserves her good opinion–One whom Pilate, himself, knows to be
without fault. If this lady was, indeed, the wife of Pilate's youth,
tender and dearly beloved, and if she was gradually sickening before
his eyes, her pale face would rise before his loving memory and her
words would have boundless power over him when she said, "I have
suffered many things in a dream."

O Claudia Procula, if that were your name, well did the Lord of Mercy
entrust His message to your persuasive lips, for from you it would come
with tenfold influence! Tradition declares this lady to have been a
Christian and the Greek Church has placed her in their calendar as a
saint. For this we have no evidence–all that we know is that she was
Pilate's wife and used her wifely influence to stay him from this
crime. How often has a tender, suffering, loving woman exercised great
power over a coarse, rough man! The All-Wise One knows this and,
therefore, He often speaks to sinful men by this influential agency. He
converts one in a family that she may be His missionary to the rest.
Thus He speaks with something better than the tongues of men and of
angels, for He uses Love, itself, to be His orator.

Affection has more might than eloquence. That is why, my Friend, God
sent you, for a little while, that dear child who prattled to you about
the Savior! She is gone to Heaven, now, but the music of her little
hymns rings in your ears even now and her talk about Jesus and the
angels is yet with you. She has been called Home, but God sent her to
you for a season to charm you to Himself and win you to the right way.
Thus He bade you cease from sin and turn to Christ. And that dear
mother of yours, who is now before the Throne of God, do you remember
what she said to you when she was dying? You have heard me a great many
times, but you never heard a sermon from me like that address from her
dying couch! You can never quite forget it, or shake yourself free from
its power. Beware how you trifle with it!

To Pilate, his wife's message was God's ultimatum! He never warned him
again and even Jesus stood silent before him. O my Friend, to you it
may be that your child, your mother, or your affectionate wife may be
God's last messenger, the final effort of the warning angel to bring
you to a better mind! A loving relative pleading with tears is often
the forlorn hope of mercy. An attack so skillfully planned and wisely
conducted may be regarded as the last assault of love upon a stubborn
spirit and, after this, it will be left to its own devices. The
selection of the wife was, no doubt, made by infinite wisdom and
tenderness, that if possible, Pilate might be stopped in his career of
crime and strengthened to the performance of an act of justice by which
he would have avoided the most terrible of crimes.

So, then, we may safely conclude that the Lord has His missionaries
where the city missionary cannot enter. He sends the little children to
sing and pray where the preacher is never heard. He moves the godly
woman to proclaim the Gospel by her lip and life where the Bible is not
read. He sends a sweet girl to grow up and win a brother or a father
where no other voice would be allowed to tell of Jesus and His love! We
thank God it is so! It gives hope for the households of this godless
city–it gives us hope, even, for those for whom the Sabbath bell rings
out in vain. They will hear, they must hear these home preachers–these
messengers who tug at their hearts! Yes, and let me add that where God
does not em-

ploy a dream, nor use a wife, yet He can get at men's conscience by no
visible means but by thoughts which come unbidden and abide upon the
soul.

Truths long buried suddenly rise up and when the man is in the very act
of sin he is stopped in the way, as Balaam was when the angel met him.
How often it has happened that conscience has met a guilty man even in
the moment when he meant to enjoy the pleasure filled with wrong, even
as Elijah met Ahab at the gate of Naboth's vineyard! How the king
starts back as he beholds the Prophet–he would sooner have seen the
very devil, than Elijah! Angrily he cries, "Have you found me, O my
enemy?" Though, indeed, Elijah was his best friend, had he known it!
Often does conscience pounce upon a man when the sweet morsel of sin
has just been rolled under his tongue and he is sitting down to enjoy
it! The visitation of conscience turns the stolen honey into bitterness
and the forbidden joy into anguish!

Conscience often lies like a lion in a thicket–and when the sinner
comes along the broad road it leaps upon him and, for a while, he is
sorely put to it. The bad man is comparable to leviathan, of whom we
read that his scales are his pride, shut up together as with a close
seal–so that the sword of him that lays at him cannot hold, nor the
spear, the dart, nor the javelin–and yet the Lord has a way of coming
at him and sorely wounding him. Let us, therefore, both hope and pray
for the very worst of men! Brothers and Sisters, use for the good of
men anything which comes in your way! Use not only sober argument and
sound doctrine, but even if a dream has touched your heart, do not
hesitate to repeat it where it may have effect. Any weapon may be used
in this war.

See to it that you seek the souls of men, all of you! You who are wives
should be especially stirred up to this sacred work. Remember Pilate's
wife and think of her as affectionately giving the warning to her
husband and go and do likewise. Never keep back from an ungodly husband
the Word of God which may convert him from the error of his ways! And
you, dear children, you sisters, you of the gentler sort, do not
hesitate, in your own quiet way, to be heralds for Jesus wherever your
lot is cast. As for us all, let us take care that we use every occasion
for repressing sin and creating holiness. Let us warn the ungodly at
once, for perhaps the man to whom we are sent has not yet performed the
fatal deed. Let us stand in the gap while yet there is space for
repentance.

Pilate is even now sitting on the judgment seat. Time is precious. Make
haste! Make haste, before he commits the deed of blood! Send the
messenger to him! Stop him before the deed is done even though he
should complain of your interference. Say to him, "Have you nothing to
do with that just Man: for I have suffered many things because of Him
and I pray you do nothing against Him." That is our second point. God
bless it. Although I cannot preach upon it as I would, the Spirit of
God can put power into it.

III. Thirdly, we have, now, the lamentable task of observing THE
FREQUENT FAILURE EVEN OF THE BEST MEANS. I have ventured to say that,
humanly speaking, it was the best means of reaching Pilate's conscience
for his wife to be led to expostulate with him. He would hear but few,
but he would hear her. And yet even her warning was in vain. What was
the reason? First, self-interest was involved in the matter and that is
a powerful factor. Pilate was afraid of losing his governorship. The
Jews would be angry if he did not obey their cruel bidding. They might
complain to Tiberius and he would lose his lucrative position.

Alas, such things as these are holding some of you captives to sin at
this moment. You cannot afford to be true and right, for it would cost
too much! You know the will of the Lord. You know what is right, but
you renounce Christ by putting Him off and by abiding in the ways of
sin that you may gain the wages thereof. You are afraid that to be a
true Christian would involve the loss of a friend's goodwill, or the
patronage of an ungodly person, or the smile of an influential
worldling–and this you cannot afford. You count the cost and reckon
that it is too high. You resolve to gain the world, even though you
lose your soul! What then? You will go to Hell rich! A sorry result
this! Do you see anything desirable in such an attainment? Oh that you
would consider your ways and listen to the voice of wisdom!

The next reason why his wife's appeal was ineffectual was the fact that
Pilate was a coward. A man with legions at his back and yet afraid of a
Jewish mob–afraid to let one poor Prisoner go whom he knew to be
innocent–afraid because he knew his conduct would not bear inspection!
He was, morally, a coward! Multitudes of people go to Hell because they
have not the courage to fight their way to Heaven. "The fearful and
unbelieving shall have their portion in the lake which burns with fire
and brimstone, which is the second death." So says the Word of God!
They are afraid of encountering a fool's laugh and so rush upon
everlasting contempt! They could not bear to tear themselves away from
old companions and excite remarks and sarcasm among ungodly wits–and
so they keep their companions and perish with them!

They have not the pluck to say, "No," and swim against the stream. They
are such cowardly creatures that they will sooner be forever lost than
face a little scorn. Yet while there was cowardice in Pilate, there was
presumption, too. He who was afraid of man and afraid to do right, yet
dared to incur the guilt of innocent blood! Oh, the cowardice of Pilate
to take water and wash his hands, as if he could wash blood off with
water! And then to say, "I am innocent of His blood"–which was a lie–
"see you to it." By those last words he brought the blood upon himself,
for he consigned his Prisoner to their tender mercies and they could
not have laid a hand upon Him unless he had given them leave. Oh, the
daring of Pilate in the sight of God to commit murder and disclaim it!

There is a strange mingling of cowardliness and courage about many men.
They are afraid of a man, but not afraid of the eternal God who can
destroy both body and soul in Hell! This is why men are not saved even
when the best of means are used, because they are presumptuous and dare
defy the Lord! Besides this, Pilate was double-minded. He had a heart
and a heart. He had a heart after that which was right, for he sought
to release Jesus. But he had another heart after that which was
gainful, for he would not run the risk of losing his post by incurring
the displeasure of the Jews. We have plenty around us who are
double-minded. Such are here this morning–but where were they last
night? You will be touched by today's sermon! How will you be affected
tomorrow by a lewd speech or a lascivious song?

Many men run two ways. They seem earnest about their souls, but they
are far more eager after gain or pleasure. Strange perversity of man
that he should tear himself in two! We have heard of tyrants tying men
to wild horses and dragging them asunder, but these people do this with
themselves. They have too much conscience to neglect the Sabbath and to
forego attendance at the House of Prayer–too much conscience to be
utterly irreligious, to be honestly infidel– and yet, at the same
time, they have not enough conscience to keep them from being
hypocrites! They let, "I dare not," wait upon, "I would." They want to
do justly, but it would be too costly! They dare not run risks and yet,
meanwhile, they run the awful risk of being driven forever from the
Presence of God to the place where hope can never come!

Oh that my words were shot as from a cannon! Oh that they would hurl a
cannon-shot at indecision! Oh that I could speak like God's own thunder
which makes the hinds to calve and breaks the rocks in pieces! Even so,
I solemnly warn men against these desperate evils which thwart the
efforts of mercy, so that, even when the man's own wife, with tender
love, bids him escape from the wrath to come, he still chooses his own
destruction!

IV. Lastly, we have a point which is yet more terrible, THE
OVERWHELMING CONDEMNATION OF THOSE

WHO THUS TRANSGRESS. This Pilate was guilty beyond all excuse. He
deliberately and of his own free will condemned the just Son of God to
die, being informed that He was the Son of God and knowing both from
his own examination and from his wife that He was a "just Man." Observe
that the message which he received was most distinct. It was suggested
by a dream, but there is nothing dreamy about it. It is as plain as
words can be put– "Have you nothing to do with that just Man: for I
have suffered many things this day in a dream because of Him."

Pilate condemned the Lord with his eyes open and that is an awful way
of sinning. Oh, my dear Friends, am I addressing any here who are
purposing to do some very sinful thing, but have lately received a
warning from God? I would add one more caution! I pray you, by the
blessed God, and by the bleeding Savior, and as you love yourself, and
as you love her from whom the warning may have come to you, stop and
hold your hand! Do not do this abominable thing! You know better. The
warning is not put to you in some mysterious and obscure way, but it
comes point blank to you in unmistakable terms. God has sent conscience
to you and He has enlightened that conscience so that it speaks very
plain English to you! This morning's discourse stops you on the highway
of sin, puts its pistol to your ear and demands that you "Stand and
deliver."

Stir an inch and it will be at your own soul's peril. Do you hear me?
Will you regard this Heaven-sent expostulation? Oh, that you would
stand still, awhile, and hear what God shall speak while He bids you
yield yourself to Christ today! It may be now or never with you, as it
was with Pilate that day. He had the evil thing which he was about to
do fully described to him and, therefore, if he ventured on it, his
presumption would be great. His wife had not said, "Have nothing to do
with that Man," but, "with that just Man," and that word rang in his
ears–and again and again repeated itself till he repeated it, too!
Read the 24th verse. When He was washing his wicked hands he said, "I
am innocent of the blood of this just Person"–the very name his wife
had given to our Lord!

The arrows stuck in him! He could not shake them off! Like a wild
beast, he had the javelin sticking in his side, and though he rushed
into the forest of his sin, it was evidently still rankling in him–
"this just Person" haunted him!

Sometimes God makes a man see sin as sin and makes him see the
blackness of it. And if he then perseveres in it, he becomes doubly
guilty and pulls down upon himself a doom intolerable beyond that of
Sodom of old. Beside that, Pilate was sinning not only after distinct
warning–and a warning which set out the blackness of the sin–but he
was sinning after his conscience had been touched and moved through his
affections.

It is a dreadful thing to sin against a mother's prayers! She stands in
your way. She stretches out her arms–with tears she declares that she
will block your road to Hell! Will you force your way to ruin over her
prostrate form? She kneels! She grasps your knees! She begs you not to
be lost! Are you so brutal as to trample on her love? Your little child
entreats you–will you disregard her tears? Alas, she was yours, but
death has removed her, and before she departed she entreated you to
follow her to Heaven and she sang her little hymn–"Yes, we'll gather
at the river." Will you fling your babe aside us though you were
another Herod that would slay the innocents and all in order that you
may curse yourself forever and be your own destroyer?

It is hard for me to talk to you like this. If it is coming home to any
of you, it will be very hard for you to hear it. Indeed, I hope it will
be so hard that you will end it by saying, "I will yield to love which
assails me by such tender entreaties." It will not be a piece of mere
imagination if I conceive that at the Last Great Day, when Jesus sits
upon the Judgment Seat, and Pilate stands there to be judged for the
deeds done in the body, that his wife will be a swift witness against
him to condemn him! I can imagine that at the Last Great Day there will
be many such scenes as that, wherein those who loved us best will bring
the most weighty evidences against us, if we are still in our sins! I
know how it affected me as a lad when my mother, after setting before
her children the way of salvation, said to us, "If you refuse Christ
and perish, I cannot plead in your favor and say that you were
ignorant. No, but I must say, Amen, to your condemnation."

I could not bear that! Would my mother say, "Amen," to my condemnation?
And yet, Pilate's wife, what can you do otherwise? When all must speak
the truth, what can you say but that your husband was tenderly and
earnestly warned by you and yet consigned the Savior to His enemies?
Oh, my ungodly Hearers, my soul goes out after you! "Turn you, turn
you, why will you die?" Why will you sin against the Savior? God grant
you may not reject your own salvation, but may turn to Christ and find
eternal redemption in Him! "Whoever believes in Him has everlasting
life."
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Pilate and Ourselves Guilty of the Savior's Death