WHAT SHALL I DO WITH JESUS WHO IS CALLED CHRIST
Pilate is more than a figure from an ancient courtroom. He stands in the Bible as a living portrait of the human soul at the crossroads. He faced and asked the sharpest question ever placed before a mortal: “What shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ?” (Matthew 27:22) His moment hangs over history like a solemn bell. It tolls for every one of us, for no heart escapes the necessity of answering that question. Pilate’s struggle is our struggle; his hesitation is our hesitation; his choice presses upon us with the same weight.
He knew that Jesus was innocent. The Bible tells us Pilate recognized the envy of the rulers (Matthew 27:18) and the purity of the Man before him. He tried to reason with the crowd, but the truth stood in front of him with a calm that shook him. Jesus was no threat to Rome—He was a threat to darkness. Pilate’s war was not with the Lord but with his own divided heart. Many today stand in that same inner battle, hoping truth will go away if they simply delay the moment of decision.
The people shouted for Barabbas, and in doing so they revealed the tragedy of fallen humanity. If public opinion had any clout with God—if the crowd could enthrone a savior—then Barabbas would have been lord instead of Jesus. Yet heaven does not bend to the shouting of the masses. The Bible says, “The Lord has established His throne in heaven” (Psalm 103:19). Earth may crown Barabbas, but God crowns Christ. The world still chooses its own versions of Barabbas: comfort instead of conviction, sin instead of surrender, noise instead of truth.
Pilate reached for a basin of water and washed his hands. In that moment he revealed the futility of neutrality. As Mick Jagger once reminded us in song, Pilate sealed his fate when he tried to wash his hands. You cannot wash away the responsibility of choosing Christ. The Bible declares,” How shall we escape if we neglect so great a salvation?” (Hebrews 2:3) No decision is a decision. Indifference becomes rejection. Delay becomes a silent “no.”
Yet there is a strange tenderness in the moment Pilate presents Jesus to the crowd. “Behold your King” (John 19:14)—words he spoke without fully understanding them. He proclaimed truth while shrinking back from obedience. Many do the same today. They admire Jesus. They quote Him. They speak respectfully of Him. But admiration without surrender is still refusal. The Bible says, “Why do you call Me Lord, Lord, and not do the things which I say?” (Luke 6:46)
The question comes again, clear as the morning air: “What shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ?” (Matthew 27:22) Not what shall others do. Not what shall society do. Not what shall the church down the street do. The question is personal and eternal. Jesus Christ stands before each soul with wounds that testify of love and mercy that calls for faith. He seeks allegiance, not applause; devotion, not curiosity; repentance, not polite admiration.
Pilate walked away that day—empty, conflicted, and unchanged. Let us not do the same. We walk into our own day with the Christ still standing before us. He offers grace that cleanses deeper than any basin and peace that crowds cannot give. Choose Him. Choose the One Pilate knew was innocent. Choose the One the crowd rejected. Choose the One who stretched out His hands for your redemption.
Lord Jesus, meet me once again at the crossroads of the heart. Help me answer the great question with faith, love, and obedience. Keep me from the hesitation that marked Pilate, and draw me into the courage of surrender. Let my life say yes where the crowd said no. Receive my heart today, and lead me in Your truth. Amen.
BDD
