I have good friends who are Jehovah’s Witnesses.  We get along well, except when I ignore their “Knock-Knock” jokes. 

Sometimes, humor is best appreciated after sufficient reflection.  John’s Gospel contains quite a bit of humor of the kind that requires effort and attention to appreciate. 

Today’s Gospel reading is taken from the Passion narrative in John’s Gospel.  In the reading, Pontius Pilate questioned Jesus about the charges brought against him.  Pilate asked, “Are you the King of the Jews?” (Jn 18:33)  

At first, Jesus tried to redirect the conversation. When pressed for a response to Pilate’s question, he addressed an entirely different issue.  He said, “My kingdom does not derive from the world.” (Jn 18:36)  Later, he followed up with another non-sequitur, “For this I was born and came into the world: to witness to the truth.” (Jn 18:37) 

This halting conversation might look like Jesus’ attempt to confound Pilate, but it is an example of the humorous perspective on the unbelieving world that the Gospel author offers his reader.  The humor, of course, is not meant to be merely entertaining.  It is meant instead to be instruction about proper belief; therefore, understanding it requires some thought and reflection. 

The conversation between Pilate and Jesus describes the droll observation made by the Gospel author.  Pilate was curious about where Jesus placed himself on the political spectrum of the time; he wanted to know if Jesus thought of himself as an alternative to Roman Imperial power.  Jesus’ cryptic comment about testifying to the truth indicated that he had no political aspirations; his aspirations did not derive from earthly power or cultural values.  When Jesus said, “I came .  .  . to witness to the truth” (Jn 18:37), he was referring to the truth that the world has fallen away from God and, therefore, is in need of the forgiveness that God alone can provide. 

The obvious tension between Pilate and Jesus directs readers to identify the obvious tension between the world and God.  The world’s estrangement from God is a tragic state of affairs with a humorous twist: the worldly are deeply concerned about determining who has power and who has none; by comparison, God is unconcerned with worldly power because the worldly are incapable of exercising the one power the world needs, namely, the power to forgive sins. 

In a roundabout way, Pilate received an answer to his question about Jesus’ “kingship,” but he appears not to have understood it. Jesus did not claim to be king of a nation, a place, or a regime; rather, he understood himself as the one who would make possible a new “kingdom” which would be the assembly of those who know the Truth. 

Today’s second reading makes the same assertion when it says that, by his death, Jesus “made us into a kingdom, priests for his God and Father.” (Rv 1:6)  This so-called kingdom isn’t a place or a state of being; it isn’t about power, status, or possessions.  The “kingdom” of God is the assembly of the faithful.  Jesus, then, is a “king” in the sense that he reveals this new possibility for human nature and makes it an actuality in the lives of those who believe in his teachings. 

Both Pilate and Jesus talked about power and authority, but each talked about a different kind of power and authority.  Pilate talked about the kind of power that is powerless to change human nature for the better.  Jesus talked about the exercise of divine power to forgive sins.  This was the sort of comedy of miscommunication that made the Marx brothers and Abbot and Costello famous. 

The Gospel author found great irony in Pilate’s question, “What is the Truth?”  The irony derived from the fact that, as the Roman Governor of Judea, Pilate had a position of power that made him powerless both in the face of the Roman Empire and in the face of his own fears.  Pilate’s “truth” was a sad life devoid of mercy.   

Jesus, on the other hand, was a fearless witness to the Truth of God’s infinite mercy.  The Truth that Jesus professed was God’s eternal graciousness toward a world that had closed its mind to the possibility of forgiveness.     

Jesus was witness to the Truth that is infinitely worthy of trust while Pilate witnessed to a truth that he admitted he couldn’t trust.  That’s pretty funny.   

In John’s Passion narrative, Pilate serves as a tragi-comic lesson about where to place one’s trust.  Pilate served the soulless, selfish power of the Roman Empire, and it deprived him of peace and consolation.  Jesus trusted in God’s mercy and was able to face wrongful accusation and death with unshakeable peace and strength.  If we don’t learn from Pilate’s mistake, the joke’s on us.