Pontius Pilate is picture of worldly power. He is competent and calculating, he is pragmatic and self-preserving. But for all his shrewdness, his life demonstrates that the “Word above all earthly powers, no thanks to them, abideth.”1
Imagine a conversation over breakfast between Pilate and his wife, Procula, on the Sunday morning following Jesus’ crucifixion, just before they receive word that the tomb is empty.
“You’re quiet again this morning, Procula. Still brooding over the Galilean?”
“I can’t shake this ominous feeling that something is going to happen because he was executed. My dream was so disturbing, so vivid.”
“Well, I can’t govern by the superstitious dreams …