Preface to the Second Edition
I am pleased that this book has gone through so many printings and translations since its first publication twenty-two years ago. Since that time, archaeological discoveries and historical research have not outdated any of the findings in these pages, and have, in fact, confirmed several of them.
Paul L. Maier
Western Michigan University
March 1, 1990
Preface to the Third Edition
Ever since the first Doubleday edition of this book in 1968, I have been watching for any fresh documentary evidence that might enhance the solid historical record on Pontius Pilate in this book, but have found nothing, so the text stands unchanged.
Surprisingly, however, some very important archaeological discoveries have occurred, all of which directly support the biblical record on which this book is based. In addition to the cornerstone of the Tiberieum in Caesarea with Pilate’s name on it, already covered in these pages, the bones of the first crucified victim ever discovered came to light in 1970 in northeastern Jerusalem. A seven-inch spike was still lodged in the heel bones, thus overturning critical claims that victims were tied to crosses, not nailed as in Jesus’ case.
Even more exciting, the very bones of Joseph Caiaphas, the Jewish high priest who prosecuted Jesus before the tribunal of Pontius Pilate on the morning of Good Friday, were discovered by accident in the fall of 1990. The bones were in a beautifully crafted ossuary inscribed with Caiaphas’s name in a first-century burial site at a park south of the Temple area in the Old City of Jerusalem.
The geographical and archaeological sites in Galilee and Judea associated with both Jesus and Pontius Pilate also support the New Testament in every instance, and so the hard evidence from both past and present shows that recent attempts to deny that Jesus was a historical figure only advertise the folly of any who make such unsupportable claims.
I am more than grateful to the reading public here and abroad for their generous response to Pontius Pilate for nearly half a century, and commend Kregel Publications for its continued commitment to biblically based resources that inform and inspire readers.
Paul L. Maier
Western Michigan University
November 11, 2013
Notable Characters
ROMAN PREFECTS (YEARS OF RULE)
Annius Rufus AD 12–15
Valerius Gratus AD 15–26
Pontius Pilatus AD 26–36
Marcellus AD 36–37
Marullus AD 37–41
HERODS OF JUDEA (YEARS OF REIGN)
Herod the Great, king of Judea 37–4 BC
Pheroras, tetrarch of Perea 20–5 BC
Herod Archelaus, ethnarch of Judea 4 BC–AD 6
Herod Antipas, tetrarch of Galilee 4 BC–AD 39
Herod Agrippa I, king of Batanaea AD 37–41, king of Galilee AD 40–41, king of all Judea, AD 41–44
Herod Agrippa II, tetrarch of Chalcis AD 50–52, tetrarch of Batanaea AD 52–100
ROMAN EMPERORS (YEARS OF REIGN)
Augustus (Octavian) 31 BC–AD 14
Tiberius AD 14–37
Gaius (Caligula) AD 37–41
Claudius AD 41–54
Nero AD 54–68
OTHER MAJOR CHARACTERS
Procula, Pilate’s wife
Joseph Caiaphas, high priest of Judea
L. Aelius Sejanus, prefect (commander) of the Praetorian Guard
Yeshu Hannosri, Jesus the Nazarene
Cornelius, courier and later centurion for Pilate
Rabbi Helcias, Temple treasurer
Salome, daughter of Herodias
Herodias, wife of Herod-Philip
Herod-Philip, son of Herod the Great
Chuza, chief steward (manager) for Herod Antipas
Annas, father-in-law of Caiaphas
Malchus, servant of Caiaphas
John the Baptizer (John the Baptist)
PONTIUS
PILATE
—— A NOVEL ——
Chapter 1
A salvo of trumpet blasts echoed across Rome, saluting the sunrise on the first of April, A.D. 26. It was the daily signal for synchronizing water clocks with the moment of the sun’s appearance, a courtesy provided by men of the Praetorian Guard, billetted in their new camp at the edge of the city. Rome’s day had begun at least an hour earlier with the first coral glimmer of dawn, when many of the merchants started opening their shops. By the time the sun peered over the hills east of Rome, the city was a raucous symphony of clattering carts, hammer blows, and screaming babies. Some in the leisure class allowed themselves the luxury of slumbering on till seven o’clock, but only those who had wined to excess would rise any later. The citizens of Rome took advantage of every daylight hour, because nights were dark, and illumination poor.
From the commanding heights of his palace terrace on the Palatine Hill, Tiberius Caesar Augustus looked out across his noisy capital with a lethargic stare, half hoping that Rome would somehow vanish along with the morning mist, that all fourteen districts of the city might slowly dissolve into the Tiber and be disgorged into the Mediterranean like so much waste. Tiberius was well through his twelfth year as princeps, “first citizen” or emperor of Rome, that lofty office which he could not enjoy because of its demands, nor yet lay down without shattering precedent and inviting personal peril.
Unbiased voices in Rome agreed that Tiberius was governing surprisingly well, considering his unenviable role of having had to follow the glittering career of his stepfather, the now-Divine Augustus. And Tiberius had come to power under the most unflattering circumstances. Augustus had first appointed others to succeed him, naming Tiberius only after these had died. Now Tiberius nourished an obsessive resentment at having to be “emperor by default,” listening too hard for the inevitable whispered comparisons and brooding too often over his bitter, corrosive memories of Augustus.
A tall, erect figure despite his sixty-six years, the princeps turned back into the palace for a breakfast of wine-soaked bread, pullet eggs, and a brimming cup of mulsum, a wine-and-honey mixture without which no Roman could face the day. Tiberius ate alone, fatedly alone. The joy of family life was denied him. When he was a boy of four, the first tragedy had occurred: his mother Livia divorced his father in order to marry Augustus, a bit of ambitious social-climbing common enough for that era. What scandalized Rome was the fact that on the day of her second wedding, Livia was six months pregnant—by her previous husband. That night, the Statue of Virtue supposedly fell on its face in the Forum, and had to be repurified at great expense. Not until his own happy marriage with Vipsania could Tiberius forget his complicated childhood.