Giovanni Antonio da Brescia
Christ before Pilate, 1500–05, Engraving on paper, 291 x 314 mm, The Art Institute of Chicago; Bequest of Mrs. Potter Palmer, Jr., 1956.984, The Art Institute of Chicago / Art Resource, NY
Before Governors and Kings
Commentary by Donato Loia
More than just a forecast of hardship, this passage also reveals the inherent conflict between earthly authority and divine power. ‘On my account you will be brought before governors and kings’ (Matthew 10:18), He says, underscoring the disciples’ role as witnesses to a higher authority.
Giovanni Antonio da Brescia’s engraving Christ Before Pilate recalls this tension between temporal power and spiritual authority.
The engraving depicts the trial of Christ. Pilate, seated on a curule chair and making a gesture of judgment, embodies earthly power, while Christ’s serene, composed stance suggests submission to divine authority. Pilate’s depiction evokes Roman imperial imagery, recalling monuments like the Arch of Constantine (Sheehan 1973: 242). The inscription on the pedestal—‘Behold, nothing deserving death has been done by him; I will therefore chastise him and release him’ (Luke 23:15–16)—underscores Pilate’s ambivalence: his recognition of Christ’s innocence juxtaposed with his inability to defy the will of the crowd. Pilate’s acknowledgment of Christ’s innocence, paired with his failure to act on it, exemplifies the limits of earthly power.
A strong reading of this passage and its artistic representation is that state and religion, nation and God, are fundamentally irreconcilable. ‘Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God’ (Matthew 22:21; Mark 12:17; Luke 20:25) is often interpreted as a call to respect separate authorities. However, a more radical interpretation suggests no possible interaction or reconciliation between state and religion. The Matthean Christ offers not only a prophetic view of the disciples’ immediate persecution but also a stark imperative: one cannot serve two masters.
The Matthean message declares a confrontation between all human-constructed forces—nations, empires, and the like—and God’s action revealed in Jesus Christ. It issues a call to obey a higher authority than any earthly power—a form of ‘freedom’ from the powers and principalities of this world.
The quiet dignity of Christ in Giovanni Antonio da Brescia’s engraving visually enacts the Matthean call to unwavering faith in the face of persecution. In the stillness of Christ’s figure—poised, silent, and unyielding—we see the embodiment of spiritual freedom: a refusal to submit to the logic of empire. In this sense, the image functions both as a theological statement and as a visual meditation on the (maybe?) irreconcilable tension between the kingdom of God and the kingdoms of this world.