The question was screamed across the overflowing Jewish courtroom. Not waiting for an answer the judge spun around, royal robes swishing at his ankles as he briskly exited the noisy law room. But even though his question lasted only a moment in the angry ruckus he was leaving, it rang down loudly through the centuries. Echoing through schools, courtrooms, homes and prisons, “What is Truth?”.
It’s a profound question. Many have claimed to have its answer though obviously, not all have found it. It’s a question that all persons ought to desperately want to answer and to be undoubtedly sure of it. Without it, what more matters? Truth is purpose. Truth is fact. Truth is reality, actuality, and certainty. No one can afford to not know it.
That fateful day the question left Pilot’s lips and bounced back at him from the heavy concrete court walls begging an answer. TRUTH personified, sat bloodied and bruised waiting to be sentenced. And had the judge waited for an answer, through the uproar of the mob, he may have heard the soft reply coming from the Accused Himself, “I AM”. The Answer was seated right in front of him.