by Adam Winn
“I represent a group that desperately wants to avoid that fate. We seek from you information that will aid us in doing just that. Thus, far from asking you to betray your people, we are asking you to help us save them, perhaps save them from themselves.” These words brought further relief. In fact, they conveyed a sentiment Caleb himself shared.
But he quickly reminded himself that this was a negotiation, and there was financial compensation at stake. An overly enthusiastic response could only hurt him. Instead he coyly replied, “Many of our people would not see things this way. While they might reject violent resistance, they would view your cause as ultimately helping Rome—an act of betrayal against your own people.”
The man nodded and replied, “No doubt some would view us in this way. As you know, there are diverse perspectives among us Jews regarding the Roman occupation and the proper response to it. I can only say that our goals are indeed the safety and protection of our city and the people who dwell within it. To this end, we work tirelessly. If you feel aiding us would be a betrayal of your people, you are free to reject our offer. And if you do reject it, you will never hear from us again.”
In response, Caleb tried to communicate interest, but also reservation. “I am not opposed to your ideology, and I think I could be persuaded by it. But I fear that in your effort to keep peace, some of our own people might come to harm. I do not want to provide information that might lead to the injury, arrest, or death of my kin. I am not opposed to providing information that undermines plots or frustrates violence, but I refuse to provide information that will itself produce violence.” Even as he said these words, Caleb knew there was no way he could control how this man would use any information he would provide—and that he could use it to eliminate potential threats. But he sincerely wanted to distance himself from direct betrayal and bloody hands. To some there may be no difference, but for Caleb’s conscience the difference was significant. He felt such a stance was also advantageous to the present negotiation.
“Your requests are admirable and fair, and I believe we can work within those parameters. As long as your information is true and useful in preventing violence in the city, we will not ask you to directly betray anyone close to you.” Caleb nodded, and the man continued, “You may be wondering why we identified you as one who might be able to provide us with information?” He nodded again, though the thought had not really crossed his mind.
Before Aaron could continue, the girl returned with Caleb’s soup and wine. She looked at Aaron, who dismissed her with a quick wave of his hand. He said, “There are many reasons. First, you run a pottery shop that has long been popular in our city. You have often attracted many customers who talk and share gossip and rumors. At times, you likely hear things that might be advantageous to us. Second, you are the son of the beloved Pharisee Saul. Because of this, many love and trust your family. Through the friendships of your late father, you have strong connections to many respected Jews throughout the city. No doubt these friendships could also produce useful information. Third, you are the cousin of Judah, son of Jonah. His hatred for Rome is a poorly kept secret, and there are rumors that he may be associated with a secret resistance movement. Your relationship with him may put you in a position that is useful to us.”
The mention of Judah was not surprising to Caleb. In fact, he had suspected his cousin might come up. But given the reservations he had expressed, he gave a look of reluctance. “I already told you I will not betray my kin. I will not give you information about Judah that might lead to his arrest or worse.”
“I understand,” the man replied. “You needn’t give us any direct information regarding your cousin. But perhaps you could give us information of a general nature that might undermine an attack or allow those targeted to alter their plans. Perhaps in this way you could help the cause of peace without betraying your cousin?”
Both men knew what remained unspoken—even the passing on of such information could easily result in Judah’s harm. But the respective goals of each allowed them to push such a possibility aside.
“Perhaps now we should discuss both your security and compensation.” While Caleb was eager to talk about compensation, the issue of security startled him. It had not even dawned on him that this venture might be dangerous. But of course it could be! If he was working to undermine the plans of violent men, the discovery of his actions would likely draw violent retaliation from them. It was only a few months before that two men had been found stabbed over a hundred times. Many suspected that the sicarii had killed these men for the very thing Caleb was being asked to do. Why had he not thought of this danger yet? Had the opportunity for financial salvation blinded him? Reservation began to grow in his mind.
Perhaps his face revealed these thoughts. Aaron spoke confidently, perhaps overly so. “We can assure you of complete anonymity. We will never leak your name, and no one will know of your association with me. We will have no written correspondence that might be traced back to you. The transfer of information will be planned in order to avoid detection or even suspicion. If at any time you feel you are in danger, we can provide guards that will watch over you from a distance.”
This all sounded good, but it didn’t alleviate Caleb’s growing concerns. “How can you be sure these precautions will work and my safety be ensured? I have heard rumors of great harm coming to informants within the city.”
“I will not lie to you, Caleb,” the man said with conviction. “Yes, in the past informants have been careless, and it has cost them. But if you are careful and do as we say, I am confident of your security.”
This brought a sense of ease to Caleb, as did his following words from Aaron. “Though minimal, there are indeed risks, and that is why we intend to compensate you well for your service. We are aware that business has slowed significantly for your pottery shop.” Caleb figured his financial struggles were related to his recruitment—it clearly gave his recruiters leverage. “Your compensation will begin by an increase in business. In the coming days you will notice an increase of customers in your shop, many of whom will be quite affluent. They will bring to you specialized orders, often very large ones for which you will be well paid. As long as you provide useful reports, these well-paying clients will find your pottery shop their shop of choice in Jerusalem. In addition to this boost in your business, once a month we will make a payment to you of 150 drachmas. This should enable you to hire more workers in order to meet the growing demand on your shop. It will eventually be extra profit that will help not only to sustain your family but perhaps to enhance your status within the city.”
This amount of money stunned Caleb, as it was far more than he had anticipated. His shop was currently only making thirty to forty drachmas a month, which, after paying his cousin, was barely enough for him and his sister to live on. Even in his father’s day the shop rarely made more than eighty drachmas a month. With these numbers in his mind, the risk he was taking seemed to shrink and the confidence in his safety increased. Feeling overwhelmed, he lost all sense of trying to negotiate and blurted out, “This is fair. I will accept it!”
He was instantly embarrassed, but Aaron only smiled warmly. “I am happy to hear this, Caleb. Regrettably, you will likely not see me again. You will pass all your information through the man you spoke with this morning. Do not worry; he will find you when the time is right, and he will explain to you everything else you need to know. For the time being, all you need to do is keep your eyes and ears open for anything that might be important. May our God bless you and keep you as you serve him and his people in this way.”
The man rose from the table, pulled his hood further down around his face, and silently exited the tavern. Caleb sat in silence with his stew and wine. The stew was cold and flavorless, the wine cheap and sour. Eager to be rid of this place, he left both along with payment at the table. Twenty minutes later, he was eating fresh bread that Miriam had made. His heart was much lighter, and he and his sister talked and laughed lat
e into the night. It was the first time he remembered laughing in months.
ELEAZAR
Eleazar sat across from his father in the family library. The room was lavishly decorated with beautiful mosaics covering the floor and ornate colorful tapestries from all parts of the empire hanging from the walls. The back wall held hundreds of scrolls, including works from Jewish, Greek, and Roman authors. His father was a true scholar, extremely well read, and able to discuss anything from the Greek works of Homer and Polybius to Jewish works such as the life of Tobit and the extremely bizarre and misguided oracles of Daniel. But affixed prominently above all of these was a beautiful and pristinely kept Torah scroll, the most sacred Scripture of all Jews. This scroll contained the sacred way of life that God had laid out for his chosen people, and following that way of life was the people’s loving response to their divine election. His father knew the Torah as well as any in Israel, and he could debate its proper interpretation with the most learned scribe or Pharisee.
Caiaphas looked up from the letter he was reading from Pilate, the governor of Judea. “It seems our governor is particularly concerned about the coming Passover. He is considering bringing additional soldiers with him to Jerusalem when he comes for the week of the festival. He thinks an additional show of force might serve as a deterrent to any thought of riot or revolt.”
“It seems a prudent move, Father,” Eleazar replied confidently. “While adding such a small number of troops to the thousand or so already stationed here doesn’t really provide additional protection from a rioting mob, appearances do matter. Just the glimpse of Roman scarlet is often enough to make commoners think twice before they pick up a club or rock.”
“Perhaps,” Caiaphas replied. He paused and stroked his long graying beard. “Or perhaps such a demonstration unnecessarily raises tensions. Some might perceive such a move as antagonistic. Is parading more Roman power in front of a people who are already angry about its presence a wise move? I am not so sure it is. There is far more to peace than a show of force. Pilate has come a long way, but still he seems slow to learn this truth.”
The correction stung a bit—it always did. But despite the sting, Eleazar couldn’t deny the wisdom that regularly dwelt in his father’s words. From this wisdom he had learned countless valuable lesson, each one often a chisel to his own pride. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. Perhaps you are right, Father. Will you then write to Pilate and suggest he not bring these troops?”
“I may include a subtle suggestion,” his father said, “but it is highly unlikely his mind will change on this matter. There is little point in using all your strength in a fight you are sure to lose. Best to save your energy for the more important and winnable battles—this prophet from Galilee, for example.”
“What is Pilate’s estimation of him?”
“He is extremely concerned,” said Caiaphas. “His informants have told him that Jesus has left Galilee and is headed south. Pilate is convinced he is coming to Jerusalem for the Passover, and no doubt he is correct.” He paused, a concerned look on his face. “I am afraid this prophet will be our problem soon, my son. Pilate is considering an attempt to arrest him before he ever gets to the city. He feels that if Jesus makes it to the city, the potential fanfare around him will make the situation incredibly difficult to deal with.”
“That seems a legitimate concern,” said Eleazar, again seeing the logic in the governor’s thinking. “If his popularity here rivals that of his popularity in Galilee, any attempt to arrest him will be challenging. The arrest itself will run the risk of triggering a violent response from the people. And many of our informants have indicated that at least some people are talking about him as a messianic deliverer. There seems to be a growing energy surrounding the rumors that he might come to Jerusalem for the Passover.”
Caiaphas nodded. “You and Pilate are right—there is reason for concern. But I still feel we don’t know enough about this man’s intentions to make such a move. So far, he has made no open declarations of rebellion against Rome, and as far as my informants, as well as Pilate’s, know, he has made no claim to be a ‘messiah’ or ‘deliverer’ of Israel. If Pilate arrests a popular Jewish prophet right before the Passover, it will greatly raise the anger of the people toward Pilate, making his visit to the city precarious indeed. Can you imagine the reaction when Pilate enters Jerusalem with three hundred soldiers? Even if we were to avoid violence, such action would cast a dark shadow over the week’s festivities.”
While his father had a point, Eleazar pushed the governor’s position further. “But would the danger not be greater if he entered the city and it became clear that he did style himself Israel’s Messiah? He himself could be the catalyst of revolt. And trying to arrest him at that point could also be a catalyst for the same.”
“Perhaps,” Caiaphas acknowledged, “but what if he is only coming to the city as a peaceful participant? What if he has no intention of inciting the people? If that is the case, we would not only be arresting an innocent man, we would potentially be creating the very problem we want to avoid. In my estimation, the only scenario that does not bring the risk of violence and riot is one in which this Jesus comes to the city as a peace-minded prophet. At this point, we don’t know whether this is the manner in which he will come. From what we do know, it is certainly possible. His coming to the city as a popular messiah would be the worst possible outcome, as it brings the greatest risk of violence. But arresting him prior to the festival is only marginally less risky. As such, I favor allowing him to come to the city unimpeded. Here we can watch him more closely and better assess the level of risk he presents. I understand this plan of action is risky, but it carries with it the best possible reward—the peace of our city.”
Eleazar was not convinced, but it was clear his father had made up his mind. He asked, “So this is the plan that you will suggest to Pilate? Do you think he will listen?”
“Yes, it is the plan I will recommend,” Caiaphas answered. “I will urge him to call off any arrest attempt and allow the prophet to come into the city. It is here that I will exert my strength and hope to win. Pilate has proven to be reasonable, and his past failures have certainly made him open to my counsel. But he may still find the safest way forward is to eliminate the threat of Jesus before it becomes a true problem. We must be prepared either way.”
The comment about the need for preparation gave Eleazar the entry point to inform his father about another potential threat that faced them. “Father, I think we might also need to be prepared for Annas. Joanna was at a dinner party last night, and my cousins Mattathias and Jacob were holding court regarding Jesus and his potential visit to the city. They spoke of what a threat he was, of how we need strong leadership to handle him, and that they hoped the current leadership was up to the challenge. The entire discussion was a thinly veiled critique of you as high priest. Sadly, their comments raised much concern among the guests, many of whom are important power brokers.
“After a bit too much to drink, Jacob let it slip that Annas intends to meet personally with Pilate when he arrives, and that he would express his concerns regarding the present leadership’s ability to maintain the city’s security and peace. He was on the verge of saying more, but Mattathias silenced him. Knowing them, I am confident they were parroting what they heard from their fathers, or perhaps Annas himself. They are far too dimwitted to have their own thoughts on the matter. Regardless, it seems clear that Annas is making his own preparations, and we must be ready for them.”
These words seemed to bring a sadness over Caiaphas. “This news is not surprising, Son, as your grandfather has been scheming to have me removed as high priest from the day I was appointed. But you are right—we must keep our eye on him as well. We face a battle on many fronts, and we cannot ignore any of them. Sadly, Annas’s true concern is his own prestige and power—he cares little for the safety and security of the city. He no doubt sees this Passover visitation of Jesus as an opportunity. Should I miss
tep, either by dealing too harshly or not harshly enough with this prophet, he knows I will incur political damage with the people, Pilate, or both. Thus, he will surely push me to misstep one way or the other. When I do, like a vulture, he will be ready to swoop in and take advantage.”
He paused for a moment, thinking over the challenge his father-in-law presented. “If we can ascertain which direction of a misstep he will favor, perhaps we can use that to our advantage.” Then, with somewhat of a change in his mood, he said, “I am very pleased with your marriage to Joanna, Son. She is as wise and as shrewd as she is beautiful—she may end up being one of our most important informants.” A warm smile emerged as he said these words.
His father was not generous with his praise for his children, and this praise for his wife filled Eleazar with pride. However, he thought best to conceal it if there was ever to be further praise. “Thank you, Father. I will convey your praise and tell her to continue to be alert for information that might prove useful. She is quite fond of you as well, and will do what she can to help you and our family.”
Caiaphas nodded. After a brief silence, he returned to business. “That brings us to the status of our current informants. You met with Aaron about this?”
“Yes,” Eleazar replied, “he updated me this morning. We currently have over fifty informants spread across the city. They are aware of how valuable their information will be during the festival. We assigned five to monitor the outer courtyards of the temple, one to each gate. We designated the rest to prominent taverns, markets, and shops. They know how to reach their handlers if any urgent information comes to them, and the handlers will then bring the information directly to us. We can be confident that little of significance will happen in the city without us knowing it quickly.”
