NOTES for Mat 26:69-27:2

In his account of the trial of Jesus, the evangelist shows that He is not an ordinary man: people's attitude toward Him always touches the very core of their being. Judas' betrayal in the end becomes a betrayal of himself: despairing of Jesus, he perishes from his own despair and from his inability to believe in forgiveness. Pilate's trial of Jesus turns out in the end to be a trial of Pilate himself - his name is now associated with perhaps only this one episode of his life. In the Jews' cry, 'His blood be on us...' the evangelist may see a foreshadowing of Jerusalem's destruction during the Jewish War of the 70s in the first century and of the sufferings to come for his compatriots.

Historically, Christians have often used these episodes to shift responsibility for Christ's death onto someone else, for example by trying to justify antisemitism with the idea that Jews were supposedly cursed for 'deicide,' or by turning Judas into the absolute embodiment of world evil, and reaching other absurdities. Meanwhile, in their search for an enemy, they passed and still pass by Jesus Himself, the meeting with whom already, in itself, brings judgment, death, and life...

Pilate's trial became, perhaps, the most famous trial in the world. Meanwhile, for Jesus' accusers it was probably a completely routine matter. Well, the Sanhedrin condemned yet another freethinker, another "messiah" - He was not the first, He would not be the last... Well, Pilate crucified yet another disturber of the peace - he had hundreds of such rebels to his name, Barabbas alone would be enough as an example... They were simply doing their job: trying to keep under control the "hot spot" of the Roman Empire, to preserve power, position, and authority, without thinking too much about things so alien to politics as justice, truth, and faith. But for Christians this morning became the center of world history, because the one condemned was not just anyone, but the promised Righteous One, the Christ.

Christ does not answer the questions of His accusers. First of all, of course, because there is no point in answering those who will certainly interpret any answer with bias. But this reason cannot be exhaustive, since not only Christ's words but His whole behavior was a sermon. The way He carries Himself before His accusers brings to mind not only His own words about not casting pearls, but also the Third Commandment, with which those words are connected. Therefore, to reveal the highest truths before biased accusers is the same as knowingly handing them over to be mocked.

In recent years one has often heard, in and out of place, the repeated phrase: "By silence God is betrayed." But Christ's silence shows that this principle should not be absolutized.

Pilate also is incapable of understanding Christ. This is not only because of his pagan mentality; after all, many pagans were able to respond to the preaching of the Gospel. More important is the fact that Pilate was used to being guided by the rules of this world, and they hinder the perception of everything that goes beyond practical advantage. But the people, prompted by the chief priests and demanding Barabbas's release, are guided by the same rules. Barabbas looks like a hero in the eyes of the people; his actions appear more understandable than Christ's preaching. And so we see Christ sent to die instead of Barabbas.

If the thought that Christ suffered for our sins ever begins to sound abstract to someone, it is worth remembering that He was sent to the cross intended for another man. The salvation of humanity began with a chance given to Barabbas, and now each of us is a pardoned Barabbas.

That day words came from the crowd about the blood lying on those gathered before Pilate and on their children. In the centuries that followed, people calling themselves Christians would more than once use these words to inflame their own thirst for bloodshed. But the evangelist did not mention them in order to call for revenge. Every person who commits lawlessness takes part in Christ's crucifixion. This means that all are guilty of shedding His blood.

Yet it was precisely for us, who crucify Him, that He went to the cross.

The accounts of Peter's denial and of the trial before the Sanhedrin still, after many centuries, continue to hold the attention of those who seek in the Gospel answers to the most important questions. These accounts inevitably put us in the place of one character or another, because the principles of relationship with God remain unchanged: acceptance or rejection, faithfulness or denial. Peter's denial is a living portrait of human life and one close to us. He realizes his fall only when everything is over, when nothing remains but to weep.

As for the position of the members of the Sanhedrin, often only one quality distinguishes us from them: tolerance of blasphemy. For them it is a crime; for us, as a rule, it is each person's private affair. If we were in their place, we would not have sentenced Jesus to death, but the essence of the relationship would have remained the same: in response to His assertion of His messianic dignity, one can either fall on one's knees before Him and dedicate one's whole life to Him, or turn away and go one's own road.

Today's reading concludes the theme of betrayal and apostasy among the apostles by telling us about Peter's denial (vv. 69-75). The image of Peter in this passage is key: at the very beginning of the narrative Peter is mentioned as following Jesus from a distance, secretly (v. 57); it ends with the mention of the rooster's crow, which signified the fulfillment of Jesus' prophecy (vv. 74-75). Here too Peter remains true to himself: he clearly remembers the promise he gave the Teacher to stay with Him to the end, and now he fulfills it as best he can. He, of course, cannot change anything, but he wants at least to see everything.

It is not hard to guess that all Peter's attention is fixed on Jesus; he has neither strength nor time for anything else, and the tense sleepless night, of course, could not pass without a trace. And it is at this moment that people notice him and point out that he too was with Jesus. But Peter expects nothing of the kind; he may have remembered his promises, but everything had turned out to be meaningless, the messianic war had ended before it had time to begin, and now, when everything was over, there was no longer any question of faithfulness. Perhaps that is why he denies so easily, casually, before he has even had time to understand properly what is happening.

Apparently, for Peter, as for the other apostles, Jesus was inseparable from their own ideas about Him, as well as from their ideas about the cause in which they intended to take such an active part. Now, when it turned out that there would be no "cause," there could no longer be any question of betrayal: at first glance, there turned out to be no one and nothing to betray. If everything is over, if there will be no Kingdom, what difference does it make whether Peter knew Jesus or not? One can remain faithful even to the memory of the dead, but what sense is there in admitting participation in a conspiracy that never happened?

But then the rooster crowed, and Peter seemed to awaken, shaking off the spiritual stupor that had seized him after his failed attempt to defend the Teacher in the Garden of Gethsemane. And it immediately became clear to him what had happened. Perhaps for the first time he understood that he loved the Teacher not only as the leader of his supporters and not even only as the Messiah, but also as a close friend whom, as it must have seemed to him, he was losing forever. And he understood that he had denied not a failed uprising, but this love. A love that can be found again only through repentance.

And Peter, having realized everything, truly repents; he leaves the courtyard, understanding that faithfulness to the Teacher must be kept in a completely different way than he had thought before (v. 75). And this contrition of heart saves him: very soon he will meet again the already risen Teacher, who will receive his repentance (John 21:15-18).

The unrepentant apostate becomes a traitor, like Judas; the repentant apostate remains a faithful disciple, like Peter.