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St Peter’s Church Bredhurst Good Friday: Pilate’s Dream |
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Notices and |
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Good Friday – |
Not a sermon but a
discussion document Divorce and our policy |
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Pilate’s Dream Leave pauses between
paragraphs. Pilate is asleep. Voice
calls: Pontius! Pontius!
Are you getting up? Pilate gets up and goes
to bowl of water. Starts washing
hands. Can’t get my hands
clean. Couldn’t Friday night. Couldn’t yesterday. Can’t this morning. What a night! Dreams again. Not slept properly last two
nights. About that Jewish terrorist,
preacher or whatever they called him.
All terrorists to me. Why
him? He wasn’t that important. Why won’t my hands come
clean? I guess tonight’s dream
came from something Johannus, my slave, told me. It was an odd story. “You know that hand washing stunt you
pulled?” I gave him a look but he
continued, “One of his followers was in the temple gardens the night they
picked him up. Told me that this Jesus
was not averse to a bit of washing himself – actually washed his followers’
feet. I mean, if he really was this
big shot leader; that would be like you washing my feet!” Why won’t my hands come
clean? Pilate sits What a dream! I dreamt that he, that Jesus, was sitting
in MY throne, MY judgement seat! And
that I, Pontius Pilate, was standing in chains in front of Him. HE was trying ME! You know, when I asked
him questions at his trial, he hardly answered – mostly just looked at
me. Same in my dream – no questions,
just that look. But me in my dream, I
was rolling out excuses. It went on
for hours. Forgotten most of that
stuff I had. Not the slave girls of
course but that trader I cheated and that vineyard we grabbed near Bethany –
built a great big wall around it and made the previous owner pay for the
wall! Ha! He deserved it – hiding terrorists he was. But Jesus looked at me when I said
that. And so it went on, till I heard
the cock crow. I tried to wake up but
the dream continued. I’d stopped
talking by then. It was the moment of
judgement. He stood up, (acts this
part out) just like I do, waved his hand like I do and then, then he came
and sat me down. And - he washed my feet. You know how sometimes
in dreams you can see yourself? Well,
as he washed my feet, my clothes mended but his became torn; and the chains
passed from my hands to his. And then I was left
holding the bowl. (holds bowl) And he looked at
me. And I washed my
hands. Pilate washes hands
vigorously for a long time Why won’t my hands come
clean? Voice calls: Pontius! Pontius!
Pilate exits. |
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