The Roman governor stood on the veranda, facing a crowd brimming with anticipation. Beside him were two men—one, a notorious criminal guilty of robbery and murder, already sentenced to crucifixion. The other, a man brought before the governor by the religious authorities, was accused of no crime save for declaring himself the King of the Jews. The governor, indifferent to the priests’ accusations, had little personal concern over this man’s claims. However, the priests were determined to see him put to death, and Roman law, which prohibited the priests from executing anyone, was their obstacle. So, they sought the governor’s judgment, hoping Rome would deliver the punishment in their place.
The governor had questioned the man extensively, yet found no guilt in him. In an attempt to distance himself from the matter, he ceremoniously washed his hands of it, believing this would settle the issue. But the priests persisted, claiming the man’s self-declared kingship was an act of sedition, a direct threat to Caesar’s authority. They warned the governor that failing to act would be seen as dereliction of duty. Reluctantly, the governor offered the crowd a choice, hoping to diffuse the situation by invoking the Passover tradition of freeing a prisoner. The decision was between the violent criminal and the man of peace.
To his astonishment, the crowd chose to release the criminal. When the governor inquired what should be done with the other man, the crowd roared back, “Crucify him!” Fearful of an uprising, the governor relented. The man who had done no harm, who preached love and peace, was sentenced to death.
This scene is a stark reminder of the human tendency to choose violence over love. Even today, when faced with conflict, the crowd—society at large—often opts for force, aggression, and domination rather than the path of love, peace, and understanding. It is a pattern that has persisted through the ages, despite overwhelming evidence that violence only begets more violence, while love holds the power to heal and transform.
In the story of this fateful choice, the governor’s dilemma and the crowd’s decision echo in the choices we make today. When presented with the option to respond to our conflicts with violence or with love, we are often drawn toward the former, despite the profound wisdom and example set by the one who was crucified. The challenge for humanity remains: to choose the transformative power of love over the destructive force of violence. Only then can we begin to break the cycle that binds us to conflict and suffering.