Causes can bond people together. So can our values. An inspiring mission or vision can rally people. Sometimes a good, clear goal can do it. The thrill of some exciting shared moment can have a lingering, unifying effect.

Those are all good things, don’t get me wrong. But the bonds they forge are usually rather fleeting. And maybe that’s fine as far as it goes. Let us give thanks.

If you’re gambling for last place, for the thing no one really wants, only to see who walks away with the most unwanted prize, then you might be playing the wrong game with the wrong crowd.

If you’re the Roman soldier who goes home at the end of the day bragging to his wife, saying, “Look, Honey! I won a criminal’s briefs in a Craps game!” Well, then you deserve all the scorn she has to dish out.

He was king. Pilate was more right about this than he knew. Although, in a different way than he or anyone expected. So they missed it.

His authority and glory were not the audacious claims of a madman, as the religious leaders believed. His exercise of power and justice was not the steel-fisted heavy-handedness of Rome. The installation of his government was not by the usual political and forceful means that even his own disciples expected and hoped for.

Is essential to being understood. It does you little good to say anything at all if you’re only speaking your own language that the other person can’t interpret.

This is what all parents know. The babbling of a baby can be cute and all, but when real communication with actual intelligible words begins to happen, it’s a game-changer.

This is what all good public communicators know. An audience can only receive what is being expressed if it’s in words that they know, words they are familiar with and mostly use in their daily life.

In his Gospel, John has three subtle moments of foreshadowing about the Cross. All of which involve Jesus calling himself a snake.

In the first, right before his famous “For God so loved the world” line, Jesus compares himself to a bronze snake on a pole. “Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.” (John 3:14-15) This is in reference to a rather strange story from Numbers 21. The main point being that people are in danger of death because of their own rebellion against God, so the antidote (like all actual antidotes) is the means of death itself.

When religious people fill in that blank with “Caesar,”you know things have gone sideways.

Of course, it’s not always literally “Caesar.” “Caesar” is a metaphor, a type, a placeholder for whatever else or whoever else demands our allegiance, influences our values, or drives our decisions. We humans have many “Caesars, ” and we are endlessly creative at inventing new ones.

Nor is “Caesar” always stated so clearly. There are more ways to affirm loyalty than with words. How we use our time, money, resources, relationships and more are often the real pudding in which you can find the Proof.

Means “Caesar is not.” This is what the early Christians understood and adopted as their politically subversive catch phrase, turning the common phrase “Caesar is Lord” upside down.

This is what the mob who pushed for Jesus’ crucifixion were counting on as their argument for conviction: “Anyone who claims to be a king opposes Caesar.” And in the end, they were right. It was Jesus’ claim to kingship that got him killed.

When Jesus understood that “the Father has put all things under his power,” he took a servant’s position, knelt on the ground, and washed his disciples’ feet. Exercising power over “all things” was to begin with the dirty, smelly feet of his own followers.

When Pilate claimed to have the power of life or death over Jesus, Jesus replied, “You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above.” This phrase from above can also mean from the very first, or from the beginning. Pilate’s authority, his ability to make a consequential decision, was given to him by God, not Caesar.

Was the real crime that got Jesus into such hot water. Not claiming to be a king.

Pilate was willing to overlook the supposed claim to kingship. It was obvious to him that Jesus was no such threat. To either his seat as governor or to Caesar’s throne as emperor. “King of the Jews” was, technically, a rival title, but a weak one.

On the other hand,”Son of God” was a step too far for Romans who referred to Caesar as “Son of a God.” Monotheism or polytheism didn’t matter. If anything, it could only make the situation more dire. If Caesar’s basis for power was built upon his divinity, then any other claim to divinity was a threat.

If there’s one word John wants ringing in his readers ears throughout his account of Jesus’ arrest it’s this: innocence.

In case the story up to this point has not convinced readers of the perfectly holy and unimpeachable character of Jesus, John puts into the mouth of the Roman governor, no less than four times: “I find no basis for a charge.”

The most powerful man in the region found no legal basis for punishment, but there was a basis. It simply eluded him. It was a religious basis.