The following poem is by a Jesuit named Fr. Donahgy, and was posted on Touchstone’s Mere Comments in the post “L’Etat, C’est Dieu,” I share it here for your reflection as we prepare to enter Holy Week:

1. He Is Condemned

Pilate must heed the public pulse and poll,
As every politician quickly learns;
The multitude that smiles, as quickly spurns,
And so he shrugs his shoulders and his soul;
His fingers flutter in the brazen bowl;
The guilt is off his hands and head; he turns
To take the spotless towel; in him burns
A doubt — but Caesar’s favour is his goal.

“Sub Pontio Pilato”–down the years
Before a man may truly live, reborn
Of water and the Holy Ghost, he hears
Caught in the Creed, those words of pitying scorn
For him whose heart was meagre, not malign,
Who used ironic water for a sign.