'“Mother” Was that the first word he said? When the incarnate Son of God first made lips and breath combine to create a sound, was it to his Mummy that he turned? Then as he had grown into a man, learning his father Joseph’s trade, had he playfully chiseled his name into a sawn off piece of plank? Now they had written “INRI” (Iesus Nazarenus Rex Iudeaorum, Jesus of Nazareth King of the Jews), not just in Latin, but in Greek and Hebrew too. It was Pilate’s little joke, his way of making fun, both of Jesus and of the Jewish authorities. Poor Pilate, he had missed the point entirely. This man, the one on the way to Calvary, is a king. Not just a king, but the King, King of Kings. His kingdom is not just Israel, but the universe. The length of his reign, eternity. Pilate, the emperor in Rome, all the petty politicking priests and pious people, all of them, would be gone and forgotten while the one who was their victim today would rule in glory as the Servant King.