In the early hours of Wednesday morning, just after His betrayal in Gethsemane, Jesus was dragged from one illegal trial to another. What followed was not justice, but a mockery of it. The perfect, sinless Son of God stood accused before corrupt men—first before Annas, then Caiaphas, and later before the Sanhedrin. They sought not truth, but a sentence. Matthew 26:59 reveals their motive: “Now the chief priests, and elders, and all the council, sought false witness against Jesus, to put him to death.” This was not a fair hearing—it was a premeditated murder cloaked in religious robes.
Though He had committed no crime, they condemned Him with lies and twisted His words. When asked if He was the Christ, the Son of God, Jesus answered with quiet authority, “Thou hast said” (Matthew 26:64). That answer sealed His fate in their eyes. To them, it was blasphemy—but in reality, it was the bold declaration of the truth. The Lamb remained silent before His accusers, fulfilling Isaiah’s prophecy: “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter” (Isaiah 53:7). The Judge of all the earth stood wrongly judged by sinful men.
After the religious trials, they brought Him to Pilate, hoping for a swift Roman execution. Yet even Pilate, hardened Roman that he was, declared, “I find no fault in him at all” (John 18:38). Still, to appease the crowd, he had Jesus scourged and mocked—crowned with thorns, clothed in a purple robe, and beaten mercilessly. The very people He came to save cried out, “Crucify him!” The irony was profound: the sinless One stood condemned so the guilty could go free. He endured every false accusation, every insult, every lash—for you.
The trials of Jesus remind us of the deep corruption of the human heart and the profound mercy of God. He was treated as guilty so that we, the truly guilty, could be declared righteous. Every moment of injustice He suffered was part of the divine plan of redemption. As we reflect on this Wednesday morning—His trial, His silence, His suffering—may we be moved to deeper gratitude and awe. He stood in our place. He bore our shame. And through His unjust condemnation, He purchased our eternal justification. Blessed be the Lamb, silent before the slaughter, faithful to the end.