Di dalam kisah Markus mengenai pengadilan Yesus, muncul gelar-gelar kristologis “Mesias" atau “Kristus” dan “Anak dari Yang Terpuji” atau “Anak Allah”, dan juga gelar “Raja”; semua gelar ini, dalam pandangan sejumlah pakar, John Dominic Crossan di antaranya, adalah ciptaan penulis Injil Markus yang menyusun kisah fiktif ini berdasarkan Mazmur 2.[1] Dengan demikian, bagi Crossan, titulus pada salib Yesus (titulus crucis) yang menyebut Yesus sebagai “Raja Orang Yahudi” (Markus 15:26; Matius 27:37; Lukas 23:38), yang menurut Yohanes 19:19-20 ditulis dalam tiga bahasa (Ibrani, Latin dan Yunani), adalah bagian dari kisah fiktif tentang pengadilan Yesus. Namun, mayoritas para ahli berpendapat bahwa titulus pada salib Yesus harus dipandang sebagai suatu bukti bahwa pengadilan Yesus oleh Pontius Pilatus adalah suatu peristiwa sejarah.Bammel, misalnya, menilai bahwa kata-kata yang dipakai pada titulus, sebagaimana dicatat dalam injil-injil, sangat mungkin autentik, dan harus dipandang sebagai sebuah bukti sejarah yang nilai dan kepentingannya hanya dapat ditentukan dalam hubungan dengan bagian-bagian lain dari kisah pengadilan Yesus.[2]
Mengenai titulus, Raymond Brown menandaskan bahwa “tidak ada sesuatu pun yang tidak masuk akal mengenai titulus ini sebagai suatu tuduhan yang dijatuhkan oleh seorang gubernur Romawi yang mengaitkan tindakannya ini dengan kebijakan umum Lex Iulia de maiestate dalam yurisprudensi Roma yang biasa, ketika dia memutuskan suatu kasus berdasarkan pemeriksaan pengadilan yang umum dijalankan di suatu kawasan kecil seperti Yudea.” Brown menyimpulkan, “Saya tidak menemukan keberatan yang meyakinkan terhadap kesejarahan titulus sebagai suatu pernyataan tertulis atas tuduhan yang menjadi alasan penghukuman mati Yesus oleh orang Roma.”[3]
Untuk mempertahankan autentisitas dan historisitas titulus, Theissen dan Merz mengajukan argumen berikut: pertama, tata krama untuk menuliskan alasan suatu penghukuman pada sebilah perisai ditemukan dalam banyak dokumen (misalnya, Suetonius, Kaligula 32.2, dan Domitianus 10:1; Dio Cassius, Sejarah Roma 54, 3, 7); tetapi praktik seperti ini tidak sangat sering dilakukan sehingga terbuka kemungkinan bahwa hal ini hanya direka-reka oleh seorang narator di dalam suatu kisah tentang penghukuman mati; kedua, titulus pada salib Yesus dirumuskan dari sudut pandang Romawi sebagaimana diindikasikan oleh pemakaian sebutan “raja orang Yahudi” (Markus 15:26) ketimbang “Kristus, raja Israel” (Markus 15:32). Selain itu, kita tahu, hanya orang Romawi saja yang dapat mengklaim ius gladii (“hak pedang”), yakni hak untuk menggelar suatu pengadilan atas kasus-kasus hukuman mati dan untuk mengeksekusi tanpa melakukan banding kepada Kaisar (lihat Yohanes 18:31; Yosefus, Perang Yahudi 2.8.1; # 117).[4] Dan, akhirnya, komunitas Kristen pasca-Paskah tentu tidak ingin merekayasa suatu tuduhan bahwa Yesus mengklaim kedudukan sebagai raja orang Yahudi mengingat tuduhan semacam ini membuka kemungkinan bagi kesalahpahaman politis dan karenanya akan menimbulkan kesulitan berat bagi mereka (bdk. Kisah Para Rasul 17.7).[5]Catatan-catatan[1] J.D. Crossan, Who Killed Jesus? Exposing the Roots of Anti-Semitism in the Gospel Story of the Death of Jesus (New York: HarperCollins, 1995) 108-110; idem, The Cross That Spoke: The Origins of the Passion Narrative (New York: Harper & Row, 1988) 56-61.[2] Ernst Bammel, “The Titulus” in Ernst Bammel & C.F.D. Moule, Jesus and the Politics of His Day (Cambridge, etc.: Cambridge University Press, 1988 [1984]) 363f. (353-364).[3] R.A. Brown, The Death of the Messiah: From Gethsemane to the Grave. A Commentary on the Passion Narratives in the Four Gospels. AB. 2 vols. (New York, etc.: Doubleday, 1994) 2. 968, lihat juga 1.717-19, 725.[4] Lihat juga A.N. Sherwin-White, Roman Society and Roman Law in the New Testament. The Sarum Lectures 1960-1961 (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1992 [1963]) 8; Brown, Death of Messiah, 1.337-338; 363-372.
[5] Gerd Theissen and Annette Merz, The Historical Jesus: A Comprehensive Guide (ET by John Bowden; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1998) 458.
One of the reasons why some scholars reject the gospel trial narratives as historical is to be found in their conclusion that the portrayal of Pontius Pilate in the gospels is not that of history but rather that of a literary figure through whom early Christians expressed their pro-Roman attitude. They are of the opinion that in the gospels Pilate is exonerated and full responsibility is placed upon the Jewish authorities for the condemnation and execution of Jesus. With this, Pilate became a friend of the early Christians, whereas the Jews became the Christians’ foes. They see the picture in the gospels of a vacillating Pilate, trying to set Jesus free, as being in sharp contradiction with that found in extrabiblical sources, such as the writings of Philo and Josephus. But, in judging those extrabiblical pictures as history, they do not consider the theological, apologetic, and rhetorical interests of each of the extrabiblical writers.
In Philo’s Legatio ad Gaium
In the recent study of Pontius Pilate by Helen K. Bond,[1] it has been convincingly shown that the portraits of Pilate in both Philo and Josephus, while doubtlessly containing a core of historical fact, were shaped significantly by each of those writers’ general theological and rhetorical aims. In his Embassy to Gaius (or Legatio ad Gaium), Philo describes how Pilate offended against the Jewish Law by setting up iconic shields in Jerusalem; by means of an embassy, the Jewish leaders appealed to the emperor Tiberius and the emperor ordered Pilate to remove the shields (§§ 299-305). Concerning the personality of Pilate, Philo wrote that Pilate “...was a man of inflexible, stubborn, and cruel disposition...” (301); and about Pilate’s deeds, Philo noted “... his venality, his violence, his thefts, his assaults, his abusive behaviour, his frequent executions of untried prisoners, and his endless savage ferocity” (302). Bond points out that this depiction of Pilate employs stereotypical language that was commonly used of those who acted against the Jewish Law, and she concludes that “the description of Pilate’s character and motivation stems largely from Philo’s political rhetoric, in which he tries to persuade Claudius not to adopt Gaius’ attitude to the Jews, and from his theology, in which the enemies of Judaism are the enemies of God and are thus portrayed extremely negatively. This ‘theologically interpreted history’ is found in other Jewish writings of the period, particularly 2 Maccabees, Esther and Judith.”[2] Bond maintains that “behind theological gloss, the historical Pilate is just visible; though Philo allowed his imagination to play a part in describing Pilate’s character, his description of the facts seems trustworthy. Pilate appears as a governor intent on showing his loyalty to the Emperor.”[3]
In Josephus’ Jewish War and Antiquities of the Jews
In the Jewish War (written ca. 75-79 CE) Josephus relates two incidents involving Pilate: one describing his introduction of iconic standards into Jerusalem (2.169-174), the other his appropriation of Temple funds to build an aqueduct in the city (2.175-177). These two events in Pilate’s governorship are used by Josephus to strengthen the foremost rhetorical aim of the Jewish War, namely, to stress that resistance against Rome is futile and that only passive acceptance of Roman rule can produce harmony amongst subject peoples. These two accounts of Josephus do display certain characteristics of Pilate: he can be insensitive towards the people, expecting them to act as do other nations and accept the symbols of Rome; yet he can be moved by a religious demonstration and show himself as averse to excessive bloodshed. Within the bureaucracy of the Roman Empire, Pilate is a governor intent on preserving Roman law and order in Judaea; in the Jewish War, therefore, Pilate is placed alongside the other relatively able governors in the early period of that area’s status as a province of the Roman Empire.[4]
In another work by Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews (written ca. 93/94 CE), there are four narratives involving Pilate. The first two of these (concerning the military standards in 18.55-59 and concerning the aqueduct in 18.60-62) are paralleled in the Jewish War (see the previous paragraph). These are followed by the execution of Jesus, “a wise man”, in 18.63-64, and an incident involving Samaritans which culminated in Pilate’s removal to Rome on the orders of Vitellius, the governor of Syria in 18.85-89. In the episode concerning the military standards, Pilate consciously and deliberately breaks the Jewish Law by introducing military standards containing an effigy of Caesar into Jerusalem, something which no previous governor had dared to do. This gave rise to a relatively quiet protest which lasted for six days by the Jewish people in Caesarea, the place of the governor’s residence. When Pilate threatened the protesters with death if they did not end their protest and leave, the people prostrated themselves, bared their throats, and declared that they would gladly welcome death rather than transgress the wise provisions of the Law. Pilate, astonished at the strength of their allegiance to the Law, immediately had the standards removed from Jerusalem and returned to Caesarea. In Josephus’ relating of this incident, the Jews are shown as demonstrating the supremacy of their ancestral religion and Pilate is shown to have had enough flexibility to rescind his orders, remove the standards and replace the troops.
In the matter of the aqueduct (Antiquities 18.60-62), according to Josephus, it was not its construction which caused offence but rather Pilate’s misuse of Temple funds, the fact that he had completely drained the available financial resources. While the aqueduct is being built -or perhaps after it was finished-the people waited for Pilate’s visit and then expressed their grievances in a riot. The governor sent some of the Roman soldiers, dressed as the Jewish people were but armed with clubs under their garments, to circulate among the crowd. When the Jews were in full torrent of abuse, the governor gave the pre-arranged signal. His soldiers, however, used excessive force indiscriminately against the people in the crowd, punishing alike both those who were rioting and those who were not, causing panic among the people. In Josephus’ picture, Pilate thus shows some reluctance to use excessive force.
Josephus’ account in Antiquities 18.85-89 relates an incident involving Pilate and the Samaritans that occurred at the end of the prefecture of Pontius Pilate (ca. 36 CE). A false prophet announced to the Samaritans that if they would go to Mount Gerizim with him, he would show them the site in which Moses had deposited the sacred vessels. In response to this announcement which they regarded as probable, a great multitude of Samaritans gathered at Tirathana with arms. When they began climbing Mount Gerizim, Pilate, perhaps apprehensive of eschatological fanaticism, had their projected route blocked by a detachment of cavalry and heavily armed infantry. There was an encounter; some Samaritans were slain, the leaders executed, and many imprisoned. According to Bond, in this incident, Pilate acted well within his rights and responsibilities as the guardian of Roman law and order in the province; this Samaritans’ religious activity would inevitably lead to an escalation of political tensions, and this a Roman governor must avert at all costs.[5]
In the Gospel of Mark
In Bond’s analysis of Pilate’s role in the trial and execution of Jesus, there is an important contribution to the character of the historical Pilate. Most commentators regard the picture of Pilate in Mark’s Gospel-that of a weak figure who is convinced of Jesus’ innocence-as central to Mark’s attempt to exculpate the Romans and make the Jews responsible for Jesus’ death; but, according to Bond, Pilate was not a tool in the hands of the chief priests and the crowd; rather it was Pilate who was in control of the whole development. Pilate recognizes the self-interest in the actions of the chief priests (“it was out of jealousy that the chief priests had handed him over”, Mark 15:10); but Pilate also recognizes that Jesus as a messianic claimant (Note his question in Mark 15:2: “Are you the king of the Jews?”) is a potential threat to stability and the social order. Nevertheless, Pilate realizes that, to try Jesus during the time of the Passover celebration could very well provoke rioting, because Jesus was popular with many of the people. Pilate himself came up with an ingenious solution: he would exchange roles with the people, asking them what should be done with Jesus, and thereby putting them into the role of judge. For the Roman government, the voice of a local population, while not sufficient to decide a trial’s verdict, was valued in determining the political feasibility of a verdict. In the current case (the trial of Jesus) if the crowd itself were to call for Jesus’ execution, then there would be much less of a likelihood that later displays of discontent against Roman harshness would occur. So, Pilate puts the people on the spot, issuing a direct challenge to their political allegiance: “Then what do you wish me to do with the man you call the King of the Jews?” (Mark 15:12).[6] This question, writes Bond, is not a sign of weakness on Pilate’s part; rather it is his testing of the allegiance of the Jewish people, his pushing them to become part of the decision, thereby implicating themselves also. It shows, therefore, the shrewdness of Pilate and his cautious judgment.
According to Bond, there are two other accounts in Josephus’ Antiquities which illustrate how Mark’s first century readers might have understood Pilate’s action in the trial and execution of Jesus. The first of these is found in Antiquities 13.288-296. The envy of the Jews, especially the Pharisees, had been aroused against the Jewish King Hyrcanus because of his successes and those of his sons. A Pharisee named Eleazar, during a feast, said that, if the king wished to be adjudged righteous, he should give up the office of highpriest and be content with governing the people. This remark provoked the other Pharisees to indignation and Hyrcanus to fury. A Sadducee, named Jonathan, persuaded Hyrcanus that all the Pharisees were of the same opinion, and advised the king that this would become clear if he were to ask them what punishment Eleazar deserved. Hyrcanus followed this advice, telling the Pharisees that “he would be convinced that the slanderous statement had not been made with their approval if they fixed a penalty commensurate with the crime” (294). The Pharisees, feeling that death was too harsh a penalty, suggested stripes and chains, and this leniency convinced Hyrcanus that the slander had been done with the Pharisees’ approval; from that time on, the king sided with the Sadducees.
The second account, Antiquities 17.149-67, concerns the famous “eagle affair” that occured in the end of the reign of Herod I (4 BCE). The king had erected over the great gate of the Temple a large golden eagle (probably a low relief stone sculpture covered with gold leaf), the “symbol of Roman control and Jewish submission”,[7] and had dedicated it to the Temple. But it was pulled down and destroyed by a number of young men, followers of Judas and Matthias, the most celebrated interpreters of the Jewish laws. No fewer than forty young men, together with their masters, were arrested. Herod summoned the Jewish officials to the amphitheatre, reminding them of how much he had done for the nation and that, furthermore, pulling down the eagle was in effect a sacrilege. “Because of his savage state and out of fear that in his fury he might avenge himself upon them, those present said that the things had been done without their consent, and it seemed to them that the perpetrators should not be exempted from punishment” (164). Since the Jewish officials had been quick to condemn those responsible for the deed, Herod dealt mildly with the officials themselves. In the parallel account in Jewish War (1.648-655), the people are summoned and ask Herod to deal only with the perpetrators of the deed.
In both these accounts, a group of people is called to pass judgement on a crime, and this is then used by the Jewish ruler to assess their complicity in the affair. Furthermore, in the second account, the Jewish officials under Herod could hardly have later complained of the king’s harshness toward those who pulled down the golden eagle since they themselves had sanctioned such treatment and were only too pleased to be able to escape their own complicity and resulting punishment. In neither of these examples is the behavior of the ruler a sign of weakness; it is rather a deliberate challenge to the allegiance of their subjects, an attempt to make them part of the decision which they then have no alternative but to accept.
Notes
[1] Helen K. Bond, Pontius Pilate in History and Interpretation. SNTSMS 100 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998). See also: Brian C. McGing, “Pontius Pilate and the Sources” in Catholic Biblical Quarterly 53 (1991) 416-38; Harold W. Hoehner, Herod Antipas: A Contemporary of Jesus Christ (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1980 [reprint of SNTSMS 17. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1972]) 172-181; cf. idem, “Why Did Pilate Hand Jesus over to Antipas?” in The Trial of Jesus. Cambridge Studies in Honour of C.F.D. Moule, ed. Ernst Bammel (SBT Second Series 13; London: SCM Press, 1970) 84-90; Peter Richardson, Herod: King of the Jews and Friend of the Romans (Columbia, South Carolina: University of South Carolina, 1996) 305ff.; Gerd Theissen, The Gospels in Context. Social and Political History in the Synoptic Tradition. ET by Linda M. Maloney (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1991) 174 n.21 (“Still, Agrippa I’s petition primarily represents Philo’s point of vew”), 183 n.38; Raymond E. Brown, The Death of the Messiah. From Gethsemane to the Grave. A Commentary on the Passion Narratives in the Four Gospels. AB. 2 vols (New York, etc.: Doubleday, 1994) 859, states that instead of exonerating Pilate, the gospel portrayal of Pilate intends to “show the transparent falsehood of the pretense that Jesus had threatening royal ambitions.”
[2] Helen K. Bond, Pontius Pilate, 47.
[3] Bond, Pontius Pilate, 47.
[4] Bond, Pontius Pilate, 62.
[5] Bond, Pontius Pilate, 91.
[6] Bond, Pontius Pilate, 113.
[7] Peter Richardson, Herod: King of the Jews, 15-18; John D. Crossan and Jonathan L. Reed, Excavating Jesus: Beneath the Stones, Behind the Texts (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2001) 199-200.
The term “acts” (Latin: acta) is used synonymously with the Greek word hypomnēmatismoi (“recollections”) for which the more precise equivalent in Latin is commentarius (-i). Used as a legal term, it is given to the official records of Roman trials, as taken down by offical scribes. Commentarii (“trial records”, “minutes”, “memoranda”, “records of proceedings” or “protocols”) consist primarily of discourses between magistrates and defendants (or martyrs) in a courtroom.
Acta Martyrum
In his work Pre-Decian Acts of Martyrs and Commentarii, Gary A. Bisbee, employing historical methods together with source-, text-, and form-criticism, has shown that several acta paganorum (acts of the pagan martyrs) and acta Christianorum (acts of the Christian martyrs) drew upon commentarii or were actually copies of commentarii. In their extant form, acta martyrum (the inclusive term used for both types of acta just noted) divulge stages of development beginning with commentarii, official records of historical proceedings in a courtroom. A Commentarius purports to be an “historical account,” recording “the ipsissima verba of martyrs’ trials.”[1] Although the framework of a commentarius could be fictional and while the content usually shows some reworking at various stages from the primitive copies (such as the adding of overt political propaganda), fundamentally the work is an historical document. As such, some of its details can be also found in other sources, for example, in the writings of the Hellenistic Jewish philosopher Philo Judaeus (fl. 20 BCE - 40 CE).[2]
In his work on acta paganorum entitled The Acts of the Pagan Martyrs: Acta Alexandrinorum, Herbert A. Musurillo presents an analysis of the Roman martyrologies in which the historical famous protagonists, the martyrs, are portrayed as nobly defending themselves during their trials and then in facing execution.[3] The Acta Alexandrinorum, studied by Musurillo, come from the period of the first century (the reign of the emperor Claudius, 41-54 CE) to the third-century; the Acts of the Christian Martyrs (postdating the NT gospels), of the same genre as the Acta Alexandrinorum, have also been edited and commented upon by Musurillo.[4] Musurillo has chosen twenty-eight of the acts of the Christian martyrs from the second to the fourth century CE which he judges to be historically the most important and reliable, even if there are fictional elements in some of them.[5] Opposed to this judgment is that of Timothy D. Barnes who considers only nine of the acts of the Christian martyrs as authentic.[6]
From his form-critical analysis of different documents of the Acts of the Christian Martyrs, Musurillo lists the following elements as being common to the genre. First, a judicial proceeding against the martyr is carried out in a court in which witty judges do their job, bystanders show their reactions, the martyr expresses his or her faith and urges the judges to perform their duty. Second, the martyr is then imprisoned or executed, with the soldiers and gaolers treating him or her harshly. Before execution, the martyr utters a special prayer and makes some apologetic remarks, with the crowds or bystanders expressing their reactions. In this part of the work, a first-person narrative-technique is employed. Third, just before dying, the martyr claims to see a vision or some kind of miracle occurs. After the martyr’s death, it is noted that some people experienced an apparition, as if the martyr had been restored to life. Any propagandistic elements in these acts may have an anti-Roman quality[7] and/or an anti-Semitic one.[8]
Musurillo points to what he considers as obvious similarities between pagan and Christian martyr-acts: a) the use of the dramatic “protocol” style; b) the emphasis on lively verbal exchanges and aphorisms; c) the display of heroic contempt for death; d) rather long, irrelevant speeches delivered by the martyrs; and, lastly, e) the caricature of Roman officialdom. The last two elements stand out in the later and admittedly fictional Christian passiones. However, Musurillo does not postulate any interdependence; rather, he contends that “it is a fact of common experience that similar stimuli operating upon somewhat similar environments can be expected to produce somewhat similar effects.”[9]
Indeed, all the literary evidence points to the broad literary and general historical environment in which these works were produced, an environment which was also that of the authors of the NT gospels. And so Bisbee contends that the matter has to be expressed rather dialectically: “The historian cannot assume...that the genre acta Christianorum was not influenced by pagan genres, but neither should one assume... that it was.”[10] It also follows, states Bisbee, that, with regard to the gospel trial narratives, one must be open to “the possible formal influence that they may have exerted upon later acta Christianorum,” or the other way round, “...the possibility that commentarius-form exerted an influence upon the forms given to traditions regarding Jesus’ trial.”[11] In other words, authentic commentarii produced in Roman courtrooms in which actual trials had been conducted were the seedbed for any martyr-acts.
The Formal Elements of A Commentarius
As a result of form-critical analysis, a commentarius may be divided into four sections:[12]
1) Caput or kephalaion (introductory elements/formulae), comprising:
* “extract-phrase”, indicating that the record is a copy or extract from an archival original;
* name and title of the presiding magistrate;
* date formula;
* location;
* “presence-phrase”, referring to the plaintiff;
* “participants-formulae”, stating the parties involved in the case;
* “delegation-phrase”, used in two senses: first, to denote that a magistrate with imperium and iurisdictio has “delegated” a case to a subordinate magistrate; second, to refer to a delegation to a magistrate, as, e.g., a delegation from a city to a governor;
* and “ellipsis-phrase” or “phrases of the meth’ hetera type”, indicating that the copyist omitted portions of the longer account;
2) Body of the judicial proceedings containing a record of the speeches between magistrates and participants, given either in oratio recta or in oratio obliqua and/or “narrative abstract” or “summarized discourse” as a means of shortening the copy;
3) Krisis or the magistrate’s judgment which in most cases is recorded in oratio recta, direct speech, and occasionally in a summarized form or narrative abstract;
4) Concluding matters in which a certificate of accuracy is the statement most frequently found.
The Commentarius of Jesus’ Trial?
On the basis of form-critical analysis, Bisbee concludes that, in the gospel trial accounts there are no formal elements that exactly match those of the Roman commentarii or Roman official trial records. Of course this is the case, since what is contained in the Christian gospels are not Roman official records but rather Christian theological narratives.[13] If, however, it is accepted that the historical Jesus was tried by the historical Roman prefect, Pontius Pilate, then, in Bisbee’s opinion, one must assume that, “...like other trials before Roman magistrates, there would have existed a commentarius of Jesus’ trial before Pilate. Such a commentarius...would have resembled P.Oxy. 37 (49 CE), which is representative of first-century commentarius-form.”[14] Drawing on the formal elements of P.Oxy 37, and apparently following the formal elements and general sequence, as well as the main characters of the gospel trial narratives, Bisbee offers his conjecture of what the commentarius of Jesus’ trial might have been, when he writes that “The form of the commentarius of Jesus’ trial perhaps resembled the following”:[15]
From the commentarii of Pontius Pilate, governor.
The [year] of Tiberius Caesar Augustus, [month and day].
Caiaphas, high priest of the Jewish religion having accused Jesus,
a Jew, of treason, Jesus appeared before the tribunal.
Pilate: “Do you call yourself king of the Jews?”
Jesus: “As you say.”
Pilate: “Don’t you understand the severity of the charges that have been
brought against you? Do you have anything to say in your defense?”
When Jesus made no reply,
Pilate: “Since Jesus has been charged with and
found guilty of treason, he is to be scourged and taken outside the city to be crucified.”
Again, this commentarius of Jesus’ trial is only Bisbee’s speculative reconstruction; (and I find it interesting that his reconstruction seems like a slightly expanded form of the “trial record” of Jesus which is found in the original Testimonium Flavianum). It is possible of course to believe that such a commentarius never existed. On the other hand, if one believes that it can be proved that Jesus was tried before historical Roman and Jewish authorities, then a conjecture such as Bisbee’s is worthy of consideration. The extra-biblical evidence, such as P.Oxy 37 and P.Oxy 3464 (dated to ca. 54-60 CE), the judicial processes of epikrisis or eiskrisis already carried out in Roman Egypt from the time of Augustus, as well as the historicity of the original Testimonium Flavianum, make it plausible to assume that a commentarius of Jesus’ trial did once exist, even though, until now, decisive proof of this has not been found. Nevertheless, the degree of plausibility for such an assumption becomes even greater when one takes into account the situation in Judea where “...the prefect had authority to try and execute provincials and probably also citizens within his area of jurisdiction. He would presumably have a system of assizes [a meeting or meetings of a special court held by an important judge travelling from one country town to another] to which cases could be brought and receive a hearing.”[16] Finally, Musurillo has made an important point in writing that “...it may not be too rash to suppose that the Christians were inspired in their attempts to obtain and adapt the copies of the commentarii by the knowledge that this had been successfully done before." [17]
by Ioanes Rakhmat
Notes
[1] Gary A. Bisbee, Pre-Decian Acts of Martyrs and Commentarii (HDR 22; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1988) 16. The word “pre-Decian” contains a reference to the name Decius (Gaius Messius Quintus), the Roman emperor who ruled only two years (249-251). He assumed the additional surname Trajan to express strongly his case of promoting an aggressive frontier policy. In order to preserve the empire, he restored the state cults and persecuted Christians. However, his approach was outdated, and his reign initiated the worst period of the third century crisis. He was the one and only Roman emperor who was slain by his enemy; and this incident marked a very low point in the history of the Roman empire. See Michael Grant, The Collapse and Recovery of the Roman Empire (London/New York: Routledge, 1999) 9-10.
[2] Herbert A. Musurillo, The Acts of the Pagan Martyrs: Acta Alexandrinorum (New York: Arno Press, 1979) 259–260 (see the literature cited there).
[3] Musurillo, Acts of Pagan Martyrs.
[4] The Acts of the Christian Martyrs. Introduction, texts and translation by Herbert A. Musurillo (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1972).
[5] Musurillo, Acts of Christian Martyrs, xiii-l.
[6] Timothy D. Barnes, “Pre-Decian Acta Martyrum”, Journal of Theological Studies 19 (1968).
[7] Musurillo, Acts of Pagan Martyrs, 256f.
[8] Musurillo, Acts of Christian Martyrs, lii -liii.
[9] Musurillo, Acts of Pagan Martyrs, 262, 247.
[10] Bisbee, Pre-Decian Acts, 13-14; Musurillo, Acts of Pagan Martyrs, 260ff.
[11] Bisbee, Pre-Decian Acts, 91.
[12] Bisbee, Pre-Decian Acts, 33-64, 171-172; Musurillo, Acts of Pagan Martyrs, 249-252.
[13] However, Bisbee (Pre-Decian Acts, 92-94) notes some remote resemblances between the commentarius-form and certain elements in the gospel trial narratives: John 18:28 resembles a caput; John 19:13-34 gives location and time; Mark 15:4 shows remote resemblance to oratio recta; the element of krisis is found in Pilate’s judgment in Mark 15:15 (pars. Matthew 27:26; Luke 23:24-25; John 19:16) though “none of these sentences is in commentarius-form.”
[14] Bisbee, Pre-Decian Acts, 91 (see p. 163 for the Greek text of P.Oxy 37).
[15] Bisbee, Pre-Decian Acts, 92 n.28.
[16] A. Lintott, Imperium Romanum: Politics and Administration (London: Routledge, 1993) 55-56.
[17] Musurillo, Acts of Pagan Martyrs, 262, 252 n.1.
Kitab 2 Makkabe adalah sebuah dokumen martirologi Yahudi ekstrakanonik yang ditulis sekitar tahun 125 atau 124 SM, dengan mengambil Pemberontakan Makkabe (167-142 SM) melawan raja lalim dari Siria, Antiokhus IV Epifanes, sebagai latar historisnya. Dalam 2 Makkabe 6:18-7:42 (dan juga dalam 4 Makkabe 5-18) dikisahkan tentang kegigihan seorang tua bijaksana dari kalangan imamat yang bernama Eleazar dan tujuh lelaki bersaudara bersama ibu mereka yang sudah tua dalam melawan sang raja yang sedang melancarkan helenisasi besar-besaran terhadap bangsa Yahudi dan agama serta kebudayaan mereka. Sang raja lalim ini ingin memaksa orang Yahudi meninggalkan kesetiaan mereka terhadap Taurat Yahudi, dan mengadopsi kebudayaan dan gaya hidup Yunani, antara lain ikut makan daging babi dan segala persembahan yang telah diberikan kepada berhala-berhala Yunani. Jika mereka melawan kemauan sang raja, mereka akan disiksa dengan sangat kejam sampai mati.
Pada kesempatan ini baik kalau kita mengetahui apa sebabnya Eleazar (90 tahun) dapat dengan gigih sampai akhir hayatnya, di hari tuanya, melawan Antiokhus IV Epifanes. Filosofi apa yang dia pegang sehingga dia begitu tangguh?
Dalam 2 Makkabe 6:18-7:42, Eleazar dengan sangat mengesankan memberi penjelasan tentang keputusannya untuk menerima kematian sebagai akibat perlawanannya yang gigih terhadap kemauan raja lalim itu (6:23-28). Keputusan Eleazar ini disebut sebagai suatu logismos asteios atau “nalar kesatria” (6:23); dan dalam 4 Makkabe (1:1; 6:31; 7:4, 16, 21; 13:1; 16:1; 18:1) keputusan ini diistilahkan sebagai eusebēs logismos atau “nalar saleh”. Ditegaskan di situ bahwa nalar semacam ini harus mengatur dan mengendalikan baik emosi maupun penderitaan fisik dan keadaan sekarat, sebab, seperti ditulis dalam 4 Makkabe 13:3, nalar semacam inilah yang dipuji di hadapan Allah. Jadi, kita paham bahwa untuk mencapai suatu kehidupan yang gigih di tengah penderitaan, nalar harus memegang kendali terhadap emosi, rasa takut dan kecengengan manusia.
Sokrates menjelang meminum racun
di sebuah penjara negara di Atena 399 SM
Bukan kebetulan juga kalau penulis 2 Makkabe menyejajarkan Eleazar dengan Sokrates (70 tahun) yang juga dengan kesatria menerima kematian dengan meminum racun sebagai hukuman baginya yang ditetapkan pengadilan negara yang digelar di Atena pada tahun 399 SM. Sejumlah pakar, antara lain Jonathan A Goldstein, melihat ada kesejajaran yang disengaja dalam 2 Makkabe 6:18-31 antara Sokrates dan Eleazar. Menurutnya, “Tidak ada orang Yunani terpelajar yang akan luput memperhatikan keserupaan antara Eleazar dan Sokrates” (Goldstein 1983:285).
Dua hero ini, Sokrates dan Eleazar, keduanya sudah gaek, dan mereka memandang sisa kehidupan mereka dapat dengan mudah diambil dari mereka (Apologi 38c; 2 Makkabe 6:18, 23-25). Karena itu, rasa takut terhadap kematian tidak dapat membuat mereka menyangkali pendapat dan tindakan mereka (Apologi 28b-d). Sikap mereka ini sejalan dengan sikap mereka dalam kehidupan mereka sebelumnya, sehingga kalau mereka menolak melawan kelaliman akan tampaklah bahwa mereka mengkhianati diri mereka sendiri (Apologi 28d-30c, 34b-35b; 2 Makkabe 6:22). Karena itu keduanya menolak alternatif “yang lebih mudah” ketika mereka berhadapan dengan ancaman hukuman mati (Apologi 36b-38b; Krito; 2 Makkabe 6:21-28). Keduanya berpandangan bahwa adalah lebih baik jika mereka pergi ke dunia orang mati demi membela hukum (Krito 54b-d; 2 Makkabe 6:23). Keduanya berpendapat bahwa meskipun orang dapat luput dari penghukuman oleh manusia, orang tidak dapat luput dari penghukuman ilahi atas perbuatan tidak adil dan jahat yang dilakukannya (Apologi 39a-b; 2 Makkabe 6:26). Baik Sokrates maupun Eleazar percaya penuh pada hakim-hakim adikodrati yang akan mereka temui setelah kematian (Apologi 41a; 2 Makkabe 6:26). Orang-orang lalim yang mengendalikan nasib mereka merasa diserang oleh pembelaan diri keduanya lalu menjatuhkan hukuman mati bagi keduanya (Apologi 38c; 2 Makkabe 6:29), dan kematian mereka dimaksudkan oleh keduanya sebagai peringatan dan contoh agung bagi orang lain, baik pada masa kehidupan mereka maupun bagi generasi selanjutnya (Faedo 118; 2 Makkabe 6:31).
Itulah sekelumit filosofi Eleazar dan Sokrates, yang lebih memilih hidup berprinsip daripada menyerah pada kelaliman karena rasa takut pada kematian. Terlepas dari kesenjangan pemikiran budaya antara pemikiran Eleazar dan Sokrates dan pemikiran budaya modern, satu hal sudah jelas: nalar yang benar membuat orang tidak takut menghadapi penderitaan dan kematian.
Sumber:
Jonathan A. Goldstein, II Maccabees: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 41A; Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1983). Lihat juga Adela Yarbro Collins, "The Genre of the Passion Narrative" dalam Studia Theologica 47 (1993) 3-28; Jan Willem van Henten, The Maccabean Martyrs as Saviours of the Jewish People: A Study of 2 and 4 Maccabees (Leiden: Brill, 1997) 270-294.