He was full of questions. As the “problem” of Jesus escalated, you sense that Pilate didn’t know what to do . . . that he was growing increasingly frantic . . . the mob was getting ugly . . . and the Prisoner shouldn’t have been here. So the governor goes back and forth between accusers and Accused . . . “What’s the accusation?” . . . “Are You king of the Jews?” . . . “What have You done?” . . . “What is truth?” . . . “Do you want me to release to you the King of the Jews?” (John 18:28-40). Back and forth . . . forth and back . . . what is he going to do with this situation? Beat the Man . . . rough Him up a bit . . . give the crowd some blood maybe that will settle them down. But it doesn’t . . . they want Him executed . . . they want Him hung on a cross. “Fine!” says Pilate (sort of), “if that’s what you want, then go do it yourself! I find no guilt in Him.” (John 19:6) And then, through their response they strike fear into the heart of wishy-washy Pilate . . . leading Him to ask another question which, as I read it this morning, seems to be the defining question concerning Christ . . .

The Jews answered him, “We have a law, and according to that law He ought to die because He has made Himself the Son of God.” When Pilate heard this statement, he was even more afraid. He entered his headquarters again and said to Jesus, “Where are You from?” But Jesus gave him no answer.    (John 19:7-9 ESV)

“Where are You from?” Talk about your question for the ages.

Pilates “masterful” examination of the situation finally revealed “root cause” . . . the religious leaders were bent out of shape, and had incited a riotous mob, because Jesus claimed to be the Son of God. And if Pilate was getting frantic before with what to do with an innocent man, he was now “more afraid.” There was something about this Jesus that was different . . . something about Him that intrigued Pilate . . . something so different about Jesus that Pilate sensed he was talking to a man unlike any man he had ever met . . . something about this Rabbi which had caused Pilate’s wife to warn her husband to “have nothing to do with that righteous Man” (Matt. 27:19). And Pilate knew that what his wife said was true . . . this was a righteous Man.

And now he hears this . . . that He claims to be the Son of God. What?!? . . . Game-changer!!! . . . Possible?!? . . . “Where are You from?”

Not a bad question to ask . . . a better question to honestly seek to answer. That’s where Pilate bailed . . . too much pressure from the crowd . . . too many career limiting, if not life limiting, implications if he released the prisoner . . . so he tries to wash his hands of the situation (Matt. 27:24) . . . turns his back on the flogged, beaten, ridiculed Man of Galilee . . . let’s the question fall on the ground . . . and responds to the crowd, “Whatever.”

But for those who ponder the question and pursue an answer . . . for those who sincerely ask . . . and seek . . . and knock . . . they will be given insight . . . they will find the truth . . . and the door to eternal life will be opened.

And really, is there a better time of year than when our focus is directed toward a manger . . . and a baby, against whose birth we mark time . . . and a story of immaculate conception . . . and of angels reportedly visiting . . . and of shepherd apparently praising . . . and of wise men persistently inquiring . . . Is there a better time to ask the question, “Where are You from?”

Even for those of us who, by God’s grace, know the answer . . . who have believed and received . . . it is a question worth asking anew . . . pondering in awe-filled wonder afresh . . . responding to in passion fueled worship . . .

Thou didst leave Thy throne and Thy kingly crown,
when Thou camest to earth for me;
but in Bethlehem’s home there was found no room
for Thy holy nativity.
O come to my heart, Lord Jesus,
there is room in my heart for Thee.

Thou camest, O Lord, with the living Word
that should set Thy people free;
but with mocking scorn, and with crown of thorn,
they bore Thee to Calvary.
O come to my heart, Lord Jesus,
there is room in my heart for Thee.

(Thou Didst Leave Thy Throne, Timothy R. Matthews, Emily E.S. Elliot)