24 March 2025

“Suffered under Pontius Pilate.”

In both the Nicene and Apostles Creed, a certain Roman official gets mentioned by name—specifically so the creeds can cement Christ Jesus’s death at a specific point in history. Σταυρωθέντα τε ὑπὲρ ἡμῶν ἐπὶ Ποντίου Πιλάτου/stavrothénta te ypér epí Pontíu Pilátu, “He was crucified for us under Pontius Pilate.”

In order to keep their neighbors from conquering them, the Hasmonean priest-kings of Judea made a protection treaty with the Romans, and Herod Antipater 1 had taken advantage of his friendship with Roman senators to get the Romans on his side when he overthrew the Hasmoneans and made himself king. But when Herod died, Caesar Augustus overturned his will, overthrew Herod’s chosen successor Herod Archelaus, split Israel into quarters, gave a quarter to the squabbling Herod brothers Philip and Antipas, and made himself king of the two most important quarters. Now Ceasar was king of Judea—and since he was busy running Rome, he sent others to govern Judea for him. Pontíus Pilátus poʊn'ti.us pi'læt.us was the sixth of these governors, in office from 26 to 36CE.

The KJV renders his name as Pontius Pilate, which Americans usually pronounce 'pɑn.tʃəs 'paɪ.lət, and since the bible tends to call him Pilate, we presume that’s his family name. Other way round: Romans did their names the same way eastern Asians do. Pontius is his nomen, the family name. Pilatus is his personal name—and y’notice the bible’s authors tended to go with personal names.


The Pilate stone, on display in Jerusalem. Wikimedia

The reason we know so much more about Pontius than his predecessors or successors, is obviously ’cause Jesus was executed under his rule, so he has our attention. We know of him from the gospels, from historians Flavius Josephus and Publius Cornelius Tacitus, and from contemporary philosopher Philo of Alexandria. Plus in 1961 archaeologist Antonio Frova found the Pilate stone, a limestone block with “Pilatus” carved on it, dating from Pontius’s term, whch confirms he’s not fiction.

Unfortunately after Jesus’s death and resurrection, a lot of Christians made up a lot of fanfiction. It means Pontius’s history beyond these first-century sources isn’t reliable. But I’ll briefly go over what we have.

The historical Pontius.

Pontius was a member of the Pontii family, a plebeian-caste family from south central Italy. A number of Pontii held high positions in the Roman government, including consul. A few later became leaders in the ancient Christian church, and are considered saints. Pilatus means “skilled with a javelin,” so either he (or one of his ancestors, whom Pontius was named for) got the name because of military skill. And Pontius did have to serve in the Roman cavalry before he could hold office. He was married, Mt 27.19 and later Christian tradition named his wife Prókla (Latin, Prócula) and made a saint of her. Even later traditions named her Claudia, claimed she was related to the Caesars, and claimed that was how Pontius got his job; they figured he was too inept to get it on merit.

Pontius took office in the same year Caesar Tiberius retired to Capri, and left his job largely to his Praetorian prefect, Lucius Aelius Sejanus. So there’s some question whether Lucius appointed Pontius instead of Caesar. But after Caesar had Lucius executed for treason in 31, he didn’t prosecute or fire Pontius, so clearly he didn’t consider Pontius to be mixed up in Lucius’s business.

Being military governor of Judea wasn’t seen as a prestigious job, since it was so far away from Rome. Plus the governors didn’t answer directly to the emperor, but to the legate of Syria. But it was seen as a profitable job: The governor got to appoint Jerusalem’s head priest, and the priests seemed to have no trouble outbidding their competitors with the very best bribes. Hence Israel went through a lot of head priests after the Romans took over—though Pontius actually kept the same head priest, Joseph bar Caiaphas, throughout his term.

Pontius apparently held two titles: Prefect at first, procurator later. The bible only calls him ἡγεμόνι/ighemóni, “leader” (KJV “governor”). Mt 27.2 Didn’t really matter which title he held: Romans figured their only job was to keep the peace. The direct rule of Jerusalem and Judea fell to the head priest and the Judean senate, who applied the Law of Moses to the people as best they could without violating Roman interests. Governors were there to remind everyone these were Roman provinces, they paid Roman taxes, and that Rome would defend them from outside enemies… and if they ever became Rome’s enemies, Rome would crack down on them and crucify them all.

Flavius Josephus shared these stories about Pontius:

In the winter of 27, Pontius sent Roman troops to Jerusalem for garrison duty in Antonia, the fort which overlooked the temple. As usual, the troops carried Roman iconography—eagles, and images of the emperor—and displayed them in the fort. Apparently Romans hadn’t done such a thing before, and the Judeans loudly objected, ’cause Romans worshiped these images, and they understandably didn’t want pagan idols overlooking their temple. Protesters went to the governor’s office in Cæsarea to protest, and after six days Pontius told them to go home or he’d sic his soldiers on them. They called his bluff and dared him to kill them right there. So he backed off and had the standards taken down. Antiquities 18.3.1

Philo of Alexandria told a similar story about Pontius putting up some gilt shields which likewise outraged the Judeans, Embassy to Gaius 38-39 which is either the same incident with some details mixed up, or Pontius actually tried this more than once.

In 28, Pontius decided to divert a stream of water to Jerusalem, and pay for it with temple taxes. Again protesters; tens of thousands of them. This time he did sic his soldiers on them, and “a great number” were killed and wounded. Antiquities 18.3.2 Possibly this is what Luke meant by the Galileans “whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices,” Lk 13.1 KJV though for all we know, that could be another, different crackdown.

In 33, Pontius had Jesus killed. Historians are entirely sure some Christian later edited Josephus’s version of events, ’cause we seriously doubt he wrote “He was Christ.” So we don’t know what’s original, and what’s updated. We only know Jesus’s death did get a mention. Antiquities 18.3.3

In 36, a Samaritan decided he was gonna storm the Samaritan temple, take the sacred vessels which Moses had supposedly put there, and show them to the people. He got together a large group of armed Samaritans, but the night before they were about to invade, Pontius and his troops came in and killed a bunch of them. The Samaritan senate believed Pontius murdered them for other, political reasons—and went over his head to the Syrian legate, Lucius Vitellius Veteris, who had Pontius recalled to Rome. Antiquities 18.4.1-2

Pontius may not have been popular with the Judeans, and I doubt he cared so much about that; he was more interested in keeping Caesar Tiberius happy by tamping down any uprisings, and keeping the taxes flowing. The fact Pontius remained in office till Caesar’s death indicates as far as the Romans were concerned, he did just fine in the job.

Pontius’s retirement.

When Lucius Vitellius Veteris sent Pontius to Rome, it was so the emperor could decide over the Samaritan incident. Caesar Tiberius had died, so the case went to his successor, Caesar Gaius (better known by his nickname Caligula), who by most accounts hadn’t gone mad yet. And here’s where we lose track of Pontius.

The popular story of Pontius going mad and obsessively washing his hands for the rest of his life? The idea was swiped from Lady Macbeth losing it in William Shakespeare’s Macbeth; it’s a modern invention. But Christians love the irony of the idea, and spread it everywhere.

According to Eusebius of Cæsarea, Pontius was found guilty, and was expected to commit suicide, as was Roman custom Church History 2.7 —either he found his situation so humiliating, his sense of honor forced him to; or Caesar simply ordered him to do it. Thing is, Eusebius is the only one who tells this story. The pagan apologist Celsus, and Origen of Alexandria who wrote a book refuting Celsus, both of whom wrote two centuries before Eusebius, stated Pontius hadn’t died any shameful or humiliating death. And of course neither Josephus, Philo, nor Tacitus say anything one way or the other.

Ancient Christians began to circulate “letters” which claimed to be a report from Pontius to Rome about Jesus’s trial. Or from other officials (like Caesar Tiberius at the time, or Caesar Nero years later) officially rebuking Pontius for his actions. Some of them denounce Jesus and Christianity; some report miracles which “prove” Jesus is Lord, like the Acts of Pilate. Some of them exonerate Pontius of any guilt he might have for sending Jesus to his death, choosing to blame the Judean senate and people instead. Some even claim Herod Antipas, not Pontius, had Jesus killed. Various ancient Christians read them… and apparently believed them. St. Justin Martyr made a reference to Pontius’s trial documents in one of his second-century writings, and Tertullian of Carthage had read ’em and came away convinced Pontius had become Christian.

Fact is we don’t know what became of Pontius. Likely he just retired, and lived the rest of his life comfortably, thanks to all those bribes he racked up as governor. It’d be nice if Pontius became Christian. But human nature being what it is, I expect he’d choose to forget the whole thing, and Jesus is just one of many, many people he’d sent to their deaths to maintain the Roman sense of order.

But who knows?—maybe Jesus ultimately got to him. Grace can do that, y’know.