This coming weekend, the Church will celebrate the feast of Christ the King. The gospel text that will be proclaimed at Mass that day is John 18:33b-37, which records for us some of the dialogue that took place between Jesus and Pontius Pilate just a few hours before our Lord’s sacrificial death. In this poignant exchange the Roman Procurator reveals himself to be what we would call a “moral relativist”. His sardonic question to Jesus, “Truth, what is that?” was certainly the most egregious example of his relativism, but so was his behavior during the entirety of our Lord’s civil trial on Good Friday. If someone had asked him afterward why he had condemned an innocent man like Jesus to death, he no doubt would have tried to justify himself with words like these: “Yes, I know that Jesus of Nazareth was innocent. I have no doubt about that. The chief priests and religious leaders of the Jews came to me and accused Jesus of being a political revolutionary and a threat to Caesar, but I could tell right away that this man was no threat. He had no political aspirations whatsoever! He was a little delusional, yes: he spoke about having a kingdom in some other world. But there’s no crime in being delusional. Now in most cases like this, I would let the accused go free immediately—but Jesus’ case was different. In this particular situation, given the circumstances, I think it was right to do what I did. Sure, I killed an innocent man—I’m well aware of that fact. But there are times when killing the innocent can be the right course of action. Think about it. The people were ready to riot in the streets. If that had happened, I would have ordered my soldiers to get the crowd under control, and probably a number of people would have died in the process—or at the very least many would have been injured. So my act of condemning Jesus to death, as regrettable as it was, probably saved many lives. And I’m sure it also enhanced my image with many of the Jewish religious leaders. Those are two very good things that have resulted from the death of one innocent man named Jesus. So it was well worth it.”
For moral relativists like Pontius Pilate, right and wrong are determined by circumstances—or feelings—or personal preference—or some other subjective criterion. For relativists, what’s right for one person might not be right for somebody else. There’s no such thing as objective, moral truth.
Pope Benedict XVI once called relativism “the greatest problem of our time.” He was not exaggerating. The prevailing cultural, social and political atmosphere in our country right now is all too relativistic. Pilate’s rationale for killing Jesus is the same rationale that’s used today to justify the killing of babies, the sick and the elderly. As Pope Benedict said, “Relativism, which recognize[s] nothing as definitive, leaves as the ultimate criterion only the self with its desires.” Pope Francis has taken it one step further and rightly noted that relativism can even become an instrument of political and social oppression. As he once put it: “Under the guise of tolerance, relativism ultimately leaves the interpretation of moral values to those in power, to be defined as they see fit.”
That’s a very dangerous philosophy to rule—or to live—by. All of this should make us grateful that we are Catholic, and that we know the truth: the truth that Pilate disdained and ridiculed, but which leads all who embrace it to freedom and eternal life.