When the Occasion Demands

Craig Anderson

September 29, 2002

Matthew 27:1-2; 15-26

I don’t remember if it’s a sneaker ad, or a pitch for Gatorade, but the tag-line is memorable, delivered by a little kid as he looks up to his basketball hero, “I wanna be like Mike!”

Who do you wanna to be like? I can’t imagine that there would be one in a million who would answer, “I wanna be like Pilate!” Is there any more cynical and despicable character in scripture? Of all the participants at Jesus’ trial, no one is lower on the immorality scale than Pilate: lower than the proverbial snake’s belly; as bad as they come. Nobody wants to be like Pilate.

When this story is examined more closely, it becomes obvious that Jesus wasn’t the only one on trial; they all were: the religious authorities who brought the charges; the disciples who had to decide whether to stand up and be counted and Pilate, caught between the demands of the mob, and doing what he knew was right. I think I prefer the cowardice of the disciples, or the horribly misguided judgments of the religious leaders, to Pilate’s ultimate cynicism. The disciples failed when the chips were down. They gave into fear. The religious authorities and the mob, couldn’t see past their anger. They wanted Jesus removed, his challenging presence obliterated. But Pilate? Pilate had his chance. He’s the only one in the story, (besides Jesus of course), who gives any real thought to the situation. His analysis is superb. He recognizes that the charges are bogus; that the religious leaders are acting out of jealousy. He’s in a position to do something about the injustice which is about to take place. But what does he do? Puts the burden on the heads of the mob, and washes his hands of the situation: “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.”

Innocent. Innocent?! Says who? Pilate only. He remains one of the most despicable figures in history.

But contrast Pilate with a story of a young Arab-Israeli man on the front page of the paper this week. Rami Mahamid, an Israeli citizen, part of the 20% Arab minority in that nation, detected something suspicious about another young Arab at a bus stop, who was carrying a large black duffle bag, and whose boots were caked with dust. Rami coolly asked the young man if he could borrow his cell phone. He took a few steps away, dialed the police and whispered his concern. The police arrived before a bus did, and the Arab with the dusty boots, a Palestinian, detonated the bomb in his duffle bag, killing himself, and a policeman, and seriously wounding Rami Mahamid. Nevertheless, the crowd on an approaching bus was spared because of this man’s courageous actions. His courage went unrecognized for several days however, until he recovered enough to tell his story, during which time the police kept him shackled to a hospital bed, suspecting he might have been an accomplice.

When a reporter suggested to him that instead of borrowing the phone, making the call and giving nothing away, that instead he might have run or walked away, washed his hands of the whole matter, Rami Mahamid seemed surprised. “I felt I did what I was supposed to do,” he said. Yes, he was very angry when the police did not at first believe his story, but he added, “I wouldn’t feel sorry for what I did, even if I lost my life.”

When the heat rises and the pressure is on, who do you want at your bus stop, in your foxhole, Rami Mahamid or Pilate? I wanna be like Rami.

Don’t we all wonder how we will respond when our time comes? When a situation demands courage and bravery, will we rise to the challenge? At the end of life, when it is only heroic efforts and costly technology keeping us alive; when medical resources are being depleted on us which might instead be used for inoculations, clinics, or well-baby programs; will we have the courage to say, “I’ve lead a good life. Enough for me. Time now for someone else.” When a friend is in trouble; when our child screws up, maybe for the twenty-ninth time, will we be there for them? When we see something happening at work which is wrong, will we be able to blow the whistle? It is easy to imagine that just a few honest and courageous voices might have made an enormous difference at Enron, Tyco, or Global Crossing. Indeed I can imagine that your voices have been making a difference at several other organizations which have avoided the corrosive influences of arrogance, power, and greed. My hat is off to you. I wanna be like you.

It is not a very great thing that we are asking of ourselves and others is it? When the chips are down, act on your principals. Don’t lie, cheat or steal. Be humble, forgive one another, and share what you have. This is not terribly complicated. Twenty years ago, Robert Fulghum wrote an essay a lot of us taped to the refrigerator: “All I really need to know I learned in kindergarten.” Recognizing the naive idealism in this, Fulghum nevertheless takes the risk to list what we learned a long time ago and know is right:

Share everything.

Play fair.

Don't hit people.

Put things back where you found them.

Clean up your own mess.

Don't take things that aren't yours.

Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody.

Wash your hands before you eat.

Flush.

Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.

Live a balanced life: learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some.

Take a nap every afternoon.

When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands, and stick together.

In a way, what more do we need to know and to do?

Did you see the obituary page this summer on a day when the deaths of two Medal of Honor winners were reported? Jack Montgomery, 84, and Gino Merli, 78. Montgomery won his medal “by storming three German positions in the Battle of Anzio.” Single-handedly, he charged three enemy positions, 50 yards, 100 yards, and 300 yards away: each bristling with multiple machine guns and mortars, all dire threats to Montgomery’s platoon. Some years later, a woman he was dating asked about the citation on the wall of his office. “‘Oh, that’s just something I did back during the war,’ he said of his Medal of Honor.” With legendary modesty, he would say of his exploits, “I was just doing the job I was supposed to be doing. It just happened that I got lucky.”

One reaction to this story, is to wonder what great challenges might lay out there in the future for us? Is there any cause in our comfortable 21^st century lives we’d be willing to put ourselves on the line for? What challenges are left? It’s hard not to ask these questions, and easy to forget that we won’t be ready for big challenges which might come along, if we haven’t been taking on the little ones day by day, from kindergarten forward. I’d guess that preparation helps, that habits have to be formed, our character built block by block, so that when the really big moment comes, we’ll be ready and know what to do.

Of the soldiers in his unit, many of whom were also native-Americans like himself, Montgomery said, “All of them were good soldiers, dependable. If you went forward, and said to somebody, ‘Cover me,’ you never looked back.” Don’t we want to be like Montgomery’s companions, dependable? In a foxhole or the Intensive Care unit, don’t we want to be covered by someone who will stick by us, someone who, when we fail and fall, will still love and support, and forgive us? Don’t we want partners and friends who can be trusted not to approve of everything we do, but who will tell us the truth as they see it, whether positive or negative? Dependable. Trust worthy. Somebody who will challenge us to cover our backsides when they’re showing.

Have you noticed that situation and circumstance are absolutely central in what we are talking about today? A trial scene in Jerusalem. A bus stop in Israel. A battlefield in Italy. Boardrooms and backrooms at our corporations. Family rooms and intensive care units. The occasions and circumstances are crucial. How we will respond is what we’re anxious about: we hope that our response will be noble, and if not that, at least adequate. We don’t wanna be like Pilate. And Mike’s athletic prowess is ultimately beside the point; awesome but beside the point. Situations and circumstances are the stages on which we find out what we’re made of, whether our performance meets the moral demands of the moment. I can’t tell you when that key moment might be, but I suspect it usually comes sooner than we think, and in smaller ways than we imagine. Sorry to have to remind you, but we’re on trial here. Who do you wanna be like? Just say, “it ain’t Pilate”, and aim for somebody like Rami Mahamid or Jack Montgomery instead. You’ll do fine.