
"What is Truth?": Pilate's Question to Jesus
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Have you ever found yourself standing at the crossroads of certainty and doubt, wondering what to believe in a world of competing claims? The question "What is truth?" resonates across centuries precisely because it touches something fundamental in our human experience. When Pilate uttered these words to Jesus, he spoke not just for himself, but for every person who has ever wrestled with ultimate questions about reality, meaning, and authority.
The Literary and Historical Context
The encounter between Jesus and Pilate occurs within the Roman judicial proceedings against Jesus. The Fourth Gospel presents this dialogue with remarkable literary sophistication:
"Then Pilate said to him, 'So you are a king?' Jesus answered, 'You say that I am a king. For this purpose I was born and for this purpose I have come into the world—to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth listens to my voice.' Pilate said to him, 'What is truth?'" (Jn 18:37-38)
The Greek text reveals subtle nuances. Jesus uses the phrase "ἐγὼ εἰς τοῦτο γεγέννημαι καὶ εἰς τοῦτο ἐλήλυθα εἰς τὸν κόσμον" (literally, "I for this have been born and for this have come into the world"). The perfect tense of γεγέννημαι (gegennēmai) suggests not merely that Jesus was born, but that his birth has continuing significance into the present moment. The perfect tense ἐλήλυθα (elēlytha - "have come") similarly emphasizes that Jesus' coming into the world was not merely a past event but has ongoing implications.
Jesus declares his mission is "ἵνα μαρτυρήσω τῇ ἀληθείᾳ" ("that I might testify to the truth"). The subjunctive μαρτυρήσω suggests purposeful action—Jesus came specifically to bear witness to truth itself.
Pilate's Question: Linguistic Analysis
Pilate's response—"Τί ἐστιν ἀλήθεια;" ("What is truth?")—appears deceptively simple yet contains philosophical depths. The Greek word ἀλήθεια (alētheia) carries rich connotations beyond our English "truth." Etymologically, it suggests "un-concealment" or "un-hiddenness" (α-λήθεια), implying truth as that which is revealed rather than fabricated.
How ironic, right?
The man asking about truth stands face-to-face with Truth incarnate.
The question hangs in the air, unanswered in the text, creating a profound literary silence that speaks volumes. Did Pilate ask sincerely, or dismissively? Did he wait for an answer, or turn away immediately? The Gospel leaves these questions for us to ponder.
The Hebrew concept of truth (אֱמֶת - emet) adds another dimension. Unlike Greek philosophical notions of truth as correspondence or coherence, Hebrew truth is relational and covenant-based. Truth is what God does, not merely what God knows. It is faithfulness, reliability, and steadfastness. Interestingly, אֱמֶת consists of the first (א), middle (מ), and last (ת) letters of the Hebrew alphabet, suggesting a comprehensiveness from beginning to end.
Put another way, Pilate was probably bringing his Greco-Roman understanding of truth as an "idea" to the forefront. Jesus understood truth differently: not as a proposition to accept/reject, but as a person, a relationship bound in covenant.
Truth Incarnate: The Divine Paradox
Earlier in John's Gospel, Jesus had declared, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life" (Jn 14:6). The Greek construction "ἐγώ εἰμι ἡ ἀλήθεια" employs the divine self-identification formula "ἐγώ εἰμι" (I AM) reminiscent of God's self-revelation to Moses at the burning bush (Ex 3:14).
Jesus stands silent before Pilate not because he lacks an answer, but because he is the answer. The question "What is truth?" receives its response not in words but in the person standing before Pilate—bound, yet free; judged, yet the Judge; silent, yet the eternal Word.
Martin Luther captured this paradox powerfully: "Here truth stands before the judge, and the judge questions truth. The Creator is judged by the creature, and the Lord of all stands accused before a servant" (Sermons on the Gospel of John (1537), LW 22:154).
Pilate: The Man at the Crossroads
Who was Pilate in this moment? Historical sources outside Scripture portray him as pragmatic, sometimes brutal, and politically astute. His position as prefect of Judea placed him at the intersection of Roman power and Jewish religious sensibilities—a precarious balancing act.
Pilate's question reveals something of his worldview. As a Roman official familiar with philosophical debates, he had likely encountered competing truth claims from various traditions:
Stoicism: Truth as conformity with nature and reason
Epicureanism: Truth as sensory knowledge
Skepticism: Doubting the possibility of certain knowledge
Platonism: Truth as correspondence with eternal Forms
Perhaps Pilate had grown cynical from navigating political realities where pragmatism often trumped principle. His question might reflect not just philosophical inquiry but existential weariness—the resignation of a man who has seen too much manipulation of "truth" for political ends.
Yet there's something universal in Pilate's question. It's the question of every person confronted with conflicting claims, contradictory evidence, and competing authorities. It's the question that resonates in our post-modern context where subjective experience often displaces objective reality.
Truth in a World of Alternative Facts
Pilate's question echoes with particular resonance in our contemporary context. We live in what some have called a "post-truth" era, where emotional appeal often outweighs factual accuracy, where "my truth" and "your truth" replace "the truth," and where digital information bubbles reinforce our existing beliefs rather than challenging them.
The temptation to respond like Pilate—with a dismissive "What is truth?" before turning away—grows stronger in such an environment. Yet the Christian confession has always been countercultural in its insistence that truth exists, truth matters, and truth is ultimately personal rather than merely propositional.
Truth in Scripture is never an abstract concept to be contemplated from a safe distance. Truth makes demands. It calls for response. When Jesus said, "Everyone who is of the truth listens to my voice" (Jn 18:37), he established a criterion: those aligned with truth recognize and respond to him.
This is why James warns against being merely "hearers of the word, and not doers" (Jas 1:22). Truth disconnected from action becomes mere information; truth embraced transforms everything.
The Silent Answer
One of the most striking aspects of this passage is what doesn't happen: Jesus offers no direct answer to Pilate's question. The narrative continues: "After he had said this, he went back outside to the Jews" (Jn 18:38). Pilate asks and then immediately exits—perhaps not waiting for an answer, perhaps not expecting one.
This textual silence creates space for reflection. Jesus had already answered the question before it was asked. His entire ministry was the answer. His words—"I am the truth"—had already defined truth not as a concept but as a person. His life demonstrated truth as lived reality rather than abstract principle.
The silence also underscores a profound theological insight: truth ultimately transcends verbal definition. Language points toward reality but cannot fully capture it. The Word became flesh precisely because words alone were insufficient. In Christ, truth became tangible, visible, touchable (1 Jn 1:1).
Truth That Transforms
The Gospel of John repeatedly connects truth with freedom: "You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free" (Jn 8:32). This liberation isn't merely intellectual enlightenment but comprehensive transformation. Truth in this sense doesn't just inform; it reforms.
Pilate's question often resonates with those experiencing doubt or deconstruction in their faith journey. The question itself isn't problematic—honest questioning can lead to deeper faith. The danger lies in Pilate's apparent unwillingness to wait for an answer, to engage with Truth standing before him.
The invitation of this text is not to mimic Pilate's questioning and walking away, but to recognize that the answer to "What is truth?" isn't academic. It's relational. Truth isn't something you can master, or wrap your mind around. It's something - better, someone - you meet and encounter. In a world where we're constantly seeking for answers, looking for ultimate "truth," Jesus invites us to consider it differently... he invites into the truth when he calls us to follow.
In Jesus' name,
Judah