That Jesus should have been executed, either as an historical fact or
as a mythological theory, is not remarkable; and even when considered
in the light of his being one of the godhead, there is nothing new in
the relation of his death. The idea of a dying god is very old. The
grave of Zeus was shown at Crete, and the body of Dionyseus was
buried at Delphi. Osiris and Buddha both died, and numerous deities
were crucified. Krishna, the Indian god, suffered such execution, as
did also the Mexican savior Quetzalcoatl. Representations of Krishna
abound wherein he is depicted as nailed to a cross and having a round
hole in his side. Prometheus was nailed by hands and feet to Mount
Caucasus, with arms extended in the form of a cross.
So immeasurably voluminous have been the writings of the orthodox
upon the trial, execution, and resurrection of Jesus that it seems
advisable to consider these matters, from a rational point of view,
upon the hypothesis that such a man really lived and suffered
experiences similar to those narrated in the Gospels. With that
premise the following views are offered:
The attitude of Jesus before Pilate shows him to have been a willing
martyr, yea, desirous of martyrdom. In all probability his fanatical
mind believed that when the supreme moment should come, when his
execution should take place, and when his death seemed instantly
imminent, some great natural phenomenon would occur to save him. He
undoubtedly believed that he would not die, but that God would
miraculously interpose to rescue him and that at that time he would
not only be saved, but that the kingdom of heaven would be established
under his control. That this was his belief seems to be shown by his
cry of disappointment when he realized that nothing supernatural was to
prevent his death. When that moment of realization came, his surprise
was evident and, unlike many of his courageous followers who died in
calmness and bravery, he cried aloud in mental and physical anguish,
"My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" (Matt. xxvii, 46; Mark
xv, 34.)
His indifferent bearing before Pilate showed this faith in his
redemption, for when the Roman procurator courteously asked him if
he were the king of the Jews, he replied ambiguously, as had always
been his practice, "Thou sayest it" (Matt. xxvii, 11; Mark xv, 2;
Luke xxiii, 3; John xviii, 37; Nicodemus iii, 10). But such ambiguity,
which had served very well among the lower classes who had flocked to
hear and question him, was of no avail before the matter-of-fact Roman,
who, as an imperial officer, desired straightforward answers, and was
little impressed by Jesus' silence, except that he was rightfully
astonished that when given the chance the prisoner should not have
availed himself of it to explain his position. Therefore, seeing Jesus
had no will to answer his questions except in an exasperating manner,
after he had shown a willingness to save him, Pilate delivered Jesus
over to the Jews according to the custom of the Romans in regard
to the theological disputes of a subject people--but not until
he had requested them to spare the preacher. Had Jesus given the
Roman a frank explanation of his position as an itinerant preacher,
Pilate would probably have saved him, but the chimerical idea of
the interposition of God by a miracle, which would glorify him above
all else that could occur, led Jesus to make a willing sacrifice of
himself and throw away the opportunity offered him by Pilate.
There is nothing noble nor grand in this impudent conduct toward the
Roman officer, but there is a good deal of justice and consideration
in the conduct of Pilate. There is nothing noble in Jesus' willingness
to die nor in his courting death at this trial, for it was entirely
unnecessary and was desired on his part only because he expected a
miraculous salvation. According to his belief, he was to be the gainer,
and he staked his life for a heavenly glory and lost, although he was
probably keen enough to see that in any case his death would increase
his fame, for the execution of a fanatic always lends a little glory
to a cause, no matter how base, as witness the desire of anarchists
for martyrdom and the attitude with which they view those who die
for their horrible ideas.
The only question with the Roman was as to whether Jesus had proclaimed
himself the king of the Jews, and as he declined to answer this
question, Pilate could do nothing to save him. The blind hatred of
orthodox Christianity toward Pilate is absurd. Aside from the argument
above, there is another reason why his memory should be leniently
treated. According to the Christian dogma, Jesus was the son of God,
and it was only by his sacrifice, by his actual death, that he could
save man. By dying he took the sins of mankind upon himself, and thus
became the Savior. As the eternal Son, knowing all things, as a part
of the godhead, he knew his death must occur--that was his mission on
earth. Therefore, as instruments in the accomplishment of this grand
plan, by which mankind was saved, and Jesus became the Savior, Caiaphas
and Pontius Pilate should be regarded as divine agents worthy of glory
and praise. Any other conclusion is entirely illogical. But then,
who will look for logic in the dogmas of Christianity? When one makes
a logical investigation of this faith, he abandons its unreasonable
teachings, which cannot be accepted by a logical mind. The person
who allows his reason to govern his belief cannot in any way accept
the teachings of the absurd and ridiculous Christian cult.
While suffering his execution, Jesus, according to the Gospel
writers, lost both his moral and physical courage, and cried aloud
in agony, "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?" In view of this fact, it
seems impossible for reasonable creatures to accept the Christian
dogmas of the atonement and the trinity, for, if Jesus were one of
the godhead and had left his heavenly abode to descend to earth for
the especial purpose of saving mankind by shedding his blood for them,
he must necessarily have been aware of what was in store for him and
have known all the details attendant upon his execution.
Looking at this fable rationally, Jesus was inferior in courage
to many of his followers. When we recall the innumerable martyrs
who went to meet death with smiling lips, in perfect confidence,
the wailing savior, with his doubting cry to God, presents anything
but an impressive figure. Surely, to burn at the stake, to lie under
the axe, to endure the awful tortures of the Inquisition, were fully
as agonizing as a crucifixion; and yet men--and delicate women--who
have never pretended to divinity, have borne these things silently.
To be sure, the whole story of the Christ is largely legendary and
very uncertain, but, according to the gospels of Matthew and Mark,
Jesus was weak in his convictions, afraid to die for his own teachings,
and on the whole, his conduct at the supreme moment reminds one of
the weak French peasants of revolutionary times rather than the brave
nobility. His peasant blood rose to the surface and in his fear he
cried, "Why hast thou forsaken me?" although but a few moments before
he had assured one of the malefactors who suffered beside him that
on this day he should be in paradise (Luke xxiii, 43).
Everything considered, it is not strange that the Jews would not accept
Jesus as the awaited messiah who should free them from the yoke of
Rome. They desired a strong and powerful leader, not a socialistic
wandering teacher, and the prophecies promised a ruler surpassing the
wisdom and power of the gorgeous Solomon. There is not one prophetic
passage in the Old Testament that can properly be applied to Jesus,
although many have been distorted for such purpose. The Jews looked
upon him as an impostor and a revolutionist who not only pretended
to be what he was not, but who disregarded their ancient laws and
preached a doctrine contrary to that held by their rabbis.
It was not until long after his death that he was regarded as a
prophet, and it was not until every proof of his very existence had
vanished that divine honors were paid him. To the Jews he was a vagrant
revolutionist worthy of death, and the Jews knew him personally; to a
large majority of twentieth century Christians, he is a god, and they
know absolutely nothing about him, save a collection of puerile myths
which tax their credulity as children, but which as adults they accept.
However, regarding the execution of Jesus, there is always the
legitimate doubt that it ever occurred. Aside from the fact that
the usual mode of death for criminals was by hanging, there is much
internal evidence in the gospels themselves which points to the
conclusion that the whole story of the execution and resurrection is
mythical and was composed from various Hebrew and pagan legends. The
dying cry was copied verbatim from Psalms xxii, 1, wherein David
"complaineth in great discouragement" over his diseased condition.