He stood silent while the accusations were made against him. They didn’t understand his teachings or how this knowledge could come from someone with such humble beginnings. He spoke in parables that confused them. And he challenged their faith at times, using blunt language to call out their sins before the crowds in the temple and in the streets. These men who were lesser teachers – and far lesser lovers – decided he should be killed for embarrassing them, but also for claiming to be the son of God. They led him away to several courts where he stood before noble audiences, and they beat and mocked him to his face. Still, he offered no defense. His final judge on earth was a tyrannical military man who wanted nothing to do with him or his accusers. Pilate felt something almost ghostly about this “criminal” who said he was a king and found it curious that a mob of religious accusers wanted the man dead. But the Roman condemned him anyway. They all did. Blinded to their Messiah, to their God, despite all he’d done in lockstep with the prophecies. The miracles. Speaking in parables. His silence in the face of his accusers. They ignored the signs. Son of Man, discarded as a common sinner, by a world full of cretins who doesn’t deserve him.