The Final Sentence of the Sanhedrin Against Jesus Christ

The morning was breaking of the day unique in the history of mankind. On its eve, as we have seen, the Jews had slaughtered the paschal lamb; and now, at midday, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world was given over to the slaughter. It was fitting that the true sacrifice be offered on the same day as the prefiguring one. The minds of all the Jews were occupied with the latter: did anyone think of the former?..

The good Israelites were still resting in sleep, not thinking that the «Consolation of Israel» was so near to them, when Caiaphas’s halls filled once more with elders, Pharisees, and scribes. They had no thought of repeating the inquiry or seeking out witnesses (even before, all this had been done only for show): they wished only—in keeping with custom—not to condemn the criminal to death at a single sitting, but to hear the Lord’s confession that He was the Messiah once more, in the full presence of the Sanhedrin, and thereby confirm the death sentence anew. Whatever was still lacking for unanimity could be arranged through secret conferences in what remained of the night. Nor were they any longer afraid of a popular uprising: the people of Jerusalem could not yet have learned of the past night’s events. The work of darkness was proceeding as successfully as the servants of darkness could have wished. By every sign they could hope soon to be entirely rid of the hateful Reprover of morals, and to give themselves over with all the greater pleasure to the celebration of the Passover.

The Lord was brought into the assembly. «Are You the Messiah? Tell us plainly»—Caiaphas asked, in a voice that already rang with a death sentence.

«If I tell you» (that I am the Messiah), the Lord answered, «you will not believe. And if I ask you» (about what might free you from your blindness), «you will not answer Me, and» (even if I proved that you ought to believe My words) «you will not release Me». (After this only one thing remains:) «from now on the Son of Man» (I, the Messiah) «will be seated at the right hand of the power of God» (He will no longer appear before you in the guise of a humbled prisoner, but will take on the aspect of an almighty king and judge).

«So then, You are the Son of God» (the Messiah)? — some of the judges asked impatiently.

«I am,» the Lord answered.

«He has pronounced sentence on Himself—the elders repeated, one after another—there is nothing more to deliberate. Death, death to the blasphemer!.. Death, death to the false Messiah!» (Lk 22:66-71.)

The right-minded members of the Sanhedrin either were not present at this final condemnation of the Lord, or were obliged to keep silent. Their lone voice would only have harmed them, without doing anything to help the innocent Condemned. Of Joseph of Arimathea it is expressly noted in the Gospel that he had no part in this «criminal counsel and lawless act of the Sanhedrin».

We say «criminal counsel and lawless act», for however hard the chief priests strove, in trying the Lord, to preserve the appearance of lawful proceedings, the present sentence against Him was passed against every law of justice. Its sole ground was the Lord’s declaration that He was the Messiah. But the declaration of Himself as the Messiah whom all awaited ought, in itself, to have been cause not for death but for reverence and honor. One would have expected, then, that the Sanhedrin, if only for the sake of appearances, would demand proof that He was the true Messiah, and would look at least somewhat into His deeds and teaching—from which, as we have seen, even Caiaphas’s own father-in-law Annas did not seem far removed. But this was not done at all. To these judges, Jesus’s enemies, blinded by personal hatred and entangled from head to foot in the petty calculations of Sadducee self-regard, it seemed impossible that the Messiah awaited by the Jewish people could be such as Jesus Christ now appeared: for them this was a matter already entirely settled. And since the Sanhedrin grounded its death sentence on a claim that necessarily called for a fresh and impartial inquiry, its trial, for all its efforts to give itself an air of legality, stands as manifest injustice. «It was a trial only in form—says St. Chrysostom—but in fact it was nothing other than an assault by robbers».

Having taken the Lord’s declaration that He was the Messiah for a lie, the Sanhedrin could find in Him two offenses, corresponding to the twofold authority then existing in Judea. In relation to the laws of His own nation, Jesus Christ appeared as an impious man who, forgetting the fear of God, dared to arrogate to Himself the sacred title of Messiah, so as to lead the people of God into an error which, in its very nature (since the Messiah’s coming was expected to bring a change of government), could have ruinous consequences for all Judea. In relation to the Roman government, Jesus Christ appeared as a rebel who, exploiting the people’s belief in the coming of the Messiah, sought to win them over to his side in order afterward to overthrow the Roman yoke. On both counts the guilty party was liable to the death penalty. For blasphemy and the arrogation of prophetic dignity, the law of Moses commanded stoning (Lev 24:13); for stirring up the people, Roman statute prescribed the sword or the cross.

The Jewish Sanhedrin still held the right to punish with death for offenses against the laws of the nation, but its sentences took effect only after confirmation by the provincial procurator. Consequently, once the Lord had been condemned to death, it remained only for the chief priests to obtain the consent of the reigning procurator and then hand Him over to the Temple guard and their own servants for stoning, or some other traditional form of execution. But the chief priests did not do this; instead they preferred to send the Condemned to the procurator, so that he might order Him executed under Roman law. This was entirely in the spirit of Pharisaic calculation. Carrying out the execution in the Sanhedrin’s own name would have turned the whole hatred of the people devoted to Jesus Christ directly against the chief priests and Pharisees; they might even have feared a popular uprising on behalf of the Prophet whom all loved—something far harder to bring about once He was in the hands of the Roman government, which everyone feared. The very approach of the feast made it awkward for the chief priests to sanction a national execution, while putting it off until after the feast meant exposing themselves to fresh danger from the people. In handing the Lord over to Pilate there was also the advantage that the procurator could condemn Him to the most disgraceful death—the cross—a punishment carried out only under Roman law. Meanwhile the Lord’s own prediction had to be fulfilled, that He would be delivered into the hands of the Gentiles, who would condemn Him to crucifixion (Jn 18:32). (Throughout the whole history of Christ’s Passion we shall see how circumstances that seemed, to all appearances, merely natural, arranged themselves of their own accord so that, against the will of Jesus’s enemies, everything foretold of Him centuries before by the prophets, and by the God-man Himself, came to pass in Him down to the smallest detail.) It remained only to consider how to make the strongest impression on the procurator, so that he would settle the matter without further inquiry. The surest means to this end was for the members of the Sanhedrin to appear before his tribunal themselves, laying before him the gravity of the case, the unanimity of their verdict, the manifest nature of the offense, and the extreme danger to the Roman government itself.

In consequence of such calculations, Jesus Christ, bound, was led by the guards from Caiaphas’s house to Pilate’s praetorium (the name given both to the whole residence and, in particular, to the Roman governor’s tribunal). The chief priests, elders, Pharisees, and scribes followed Him there as well (Mt 27:1-2).