by Adam Winn
It was obvious that Caiaphas did not like what he was hearing. It was time to give him a bit of good news. “But what political harm does this really create? Perhaps your popularity among the people will decline, and it might make life a little harder on you in the short term. But I assure you here and now that you have my complete support, and thus your political power will be in no danger whatsoever. If anyone comes to me with complaints, I will continue to support you. Ultimately, I think the cost to you will be rather small considering the magnitude of the mistake in judgment you made.”
Caiaphas sat in silence for a while. He clearly did not like the idea, but he had little choice.
When he finally spoke, he said, “I have worked hard to earn the reputation I have with the people of this city, Pilate. Unlike many high priests that have preceded me, most of the people trust and respect me. I do not take jeopardizing that trust and respect lightly.”
“I know you don’t, Caiaphas,” replied Pilate. “And I know what I am asking you is not without cost. But I am also relying on this reputation you have with the people. It is this trust and respect they have for you that I am relying on as a buffer between your power and my own. I am counting on this trust to keep the people from seeing the truth: that your actions are a veil that allows me to accomplish my own purposes with limited consequence.” These last words brought a genuine smile to Pilate’s face.
Caiaphas nodded slowly. “You would use my reputation for your own means?”
“I would use any means necessary to keep the peace,” Pilate said with conviction. “I was under the impression that you would do the same. Remember, if this current crisis results in rioting and upheaval, the emperor will remove us both from power—or worse.”
Another long silence from Caiaphas before he finally spoke. “You are right, Pilate. Peace is the most important goal here, and it is far more valuable than my own reputation. It is my counsel that has put us in this situation, and it is only right that I do what I can to resolve it. Any cost I might incur, I no doubt deserve. Now let’s work together to come up with a plan that will save this city from unrest and violence.”
There it was. Pilate knew the priest would finally come to this conclusion. Initial resistance was to be expected, but in the end, reason would win him over. It actually took less time for Caiaphas to come to heel than Pilate had anticipated.
“I am happy to hear you say that, Caiaphas. Yes, let us form the plan. We have already agreed that you and your guards will arrest the prophet, but many issues remain unresolved. I think the most important issue is timing. When should we make an arrest?”
Again there was silence as Caiaphas considered the question. “Since the primary danger of arresting him is the people’s protest, then it must take place when there are no crowds, when he is not in a public place, when arresting him cannot immediately ignite a violent reaction. In that case, I think arresting him at night would be our best option.”
“My thoughts exactly,” said Pilate. “If we are lucky, most people will not even be aware of his arrest, perhaps even that he has been sent to his execution, until after they wake up. Sleepy heads are slow to form angry mobs. This would also give us some time to shape the narrative of his arrest and execution in a way that reduces the danger of protest and rioting.”
Caiaphas nodded. “Arresting and trying him in the night is certainly ideal, with his execution to follow in the early morning if possible. But there is one challenge to this plan: finding him. Today, he left the city in the late afternoon surrounded by a crowd of people. Several of my informants tried to follow him, but as the crowd left, it broke into pieces. Some headed on to Bethany, others headed to the northern part of the city beyond the wall, and still others to the east. At that point they lost him. If this man is committed to a public confrontation with Rome and a public arrest that could result in mob violence, he will no doubt make himself hard to find at night.”
Pilate had not considered the challenge of finding Jesus at night, or how easily he could get lost in a crowd if he so desired. “Yes, this is indeed a challenge, but one we can surely overcome. You have often told me how helpful your informants are at providing you information to help keep the peace of this city. We need them now. Set them to the task of finding out where this Jesus is spending his nights. Without solving this problem, our chances of eliminating him and keeping the peace are quite low.”
Caiaphas nodded. “I will organize our informants for this purpose tonight. Hopefully we can track down his evening whereabouts quickly, before the situation escalates.”
“Good. But we have a little time,” said Pilate. “I believe he wants us to be the aggressor, to be the catalyst that ignites the people to his cause. We will need to watch him closely and have a military response ready should things go wrong, but I think we have a number of days before we must act. I believe it is in our best interest to arrest him as close to the Passover feast as possible. All day Friday, people will be devoted to preparations. If we arrest him the night before and execute him the following morning, people’s devotion to the feast should provide some protection against a violent response.”
Caiaphas paused for a moment and a slight smile formed on his lips. “You are correct that the Passover preparations will offer us some protection. While some might allow their passions of rebellion to override a commitment to the festival, most would not—an astute observation of the Jewish mind, Pilate.”
Pilate smiled and nodded. “Then our goals on timing are clear. The arrest must be at night, and if possible, the night before the Passover feast. This will give us the best chance of success.”
“Agreed,” said Caiaphas. “But I see another problem with your plan. If the idea is to execute this prophet, you are the only one in Judea who can sanction it. We can certainly arrest Jesus, but we have limited power after that. Ultimately, must it not be you who orders his death?”
Pilate caught a glimmer in Caiaphas’s eyes, as if he had just discovered a fatal flaw that might give him a way out. But Pilate was well ahead of him. “Yes,” he replied, “you will need my permission. But what you are perceiving as a problem, I would rather see as an opportunity.”
Caiaphas looked confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Your need to ask my permission will give me the opportunity to publicly deny that permission.”
Caiaphas’s confusion persisted.
“Not ultimately deny it, of course,” said Pilate. “But it will allow me the opportunity to make grand pronouncements of this man’s innocence. Before a crowd of people, I will fight to save this man from the fate you so desire—and desire it you must. You will need a crowd of people demanding his death, and eventually I will wash my hands of the affair and grant your request. In this way, we will pit your desire for his death against Rome’s legal finding of innocence. Hopefully my support of his innocence will pour a deluge on any potential fires of rebellion. Why should the people revolt against forces that want to save this popular and ‘harmless’ prophet? And surely they will not revolt against the leadership of their own priests, especially a high priest as respected as you.”
As Pilate said these words, an expression of understanding slowly spread across Caiaphas’s face. “This is a shrewd plan indeed, Pilate. It does squarely place the guilt of this man’s death on my shoulders—no sharing of the load, as it were. But I guess that is the point.”
“Indeed it is,” Pilate said with a smile. “For peace, of course. But the ruse itself will only be successful if we are successful in the propagation of its narrative. We will need people waking up to this news in the taverns, hotels, markets, and every other public place. If only those at the trial are aware of our performance, it will be of little use to us.”
“This will be challenging,” said Caiaphas, “but I will work with my fellow priests to devise a plan for spreading our version of events. No doubt informants will be useful in accomplishing this task as well.”
“I have no doubt you will so
lve this problem,” said Pilate. “Now let us discuss the execution itself. I cannot be associated with it. You and your priests must oversee the prophet’s death. No doubt he must be crucified, given the charges you will bring against him. You will need to lead the procession so that all know this is your will and done under your authority. I will grant you a handful of soldiers to oversee and perform the nasty task itself of course, but it must be clear that they are acting under your authority. It is attention to these details that will solidify the narrative we are creating.”
It was obvious the idea of being so closely involved in a crucifixion was not appealing to Caiaphas, but he could see he had no choice in the matter. He agreed that such a course of action was necessary.
“Is it the prophet alone that we will arrest and execute?” asked Caiaphas. “What of his closest followers? If they are not arrested as well, might not the problems persist?”
Pilate had already given much thought to this question. “I believe we must leave his followers alone. Giving you the power to execute one or two men is believable, but if many are crucified, it will be much harder to distance Roman authority from the executions in people’s minds. And while these followers could prove a threat, in my experience the sheep scatter when the shepherd falls. It seems none in the group have the status or charisma of the prophet himself, so it is unlikely they can rally the people in any significant way.”
Caiaphas nodded. Undoubtedly he was thankful not to be overseeing the deaths of numerous fellow Jews.
“There is one more thing,” Caiaphas said. “For me to convict this man of the crime you propose, I cannot do it on my own. The great council will be required for such a verdict.”
Pilate had not considered this. “Will this be problem?” he asked. “You are the head of the council, are you not? And you do exercise significant control over it, don’t you?”
“You are right that I am the head of the council,” Caiaphas said. “But as you know, the council is composed of a rather diverse group of voices, with diverse commitments. Getting them to agree to convict this man might not be as easy as you think. But I will do all in my power to make it happen.”
Pilate nodded. “I have no doubt you will.” While this sounded like a vote of confidence, Pilate hoped the priest would hear the underlying message: You had better, or things will not end well!
Pilate saw it was time to wrap up this meeting. “I believe we agree on the major pieces of the plan. We will likely need to meet again to go over all the necessary details. Let us set our hands to what can be done between now and then.”
Caiaphas nodded, but it was clear that the anticipated course of events laid heavily on him. “I know this plan is not easy for you,” Pilate said. “But I think you agree with me that it is our best chance for peace. Perhaps now you see more than ever the challenges that come with power. Heavy is the crown, no?”
The priest said nothing, nodded again, and rose to leave.
Suddenly Pilate remembered one more thing. “Caiaphas, before you leave there is one additional item to discuss. Tomorrow I am to meet with your father-in-law, Annas—at his request, not mine, I assure you. I believe he will attempt to undermine your position, but don’t let that worry you. As I said before, you have my full support as high priest. But I wonder, to what extent should we make him aware of our plans? Can he be an asset in the preparations you need to make, or will he be a hindrance? I will do as you advise.”
Caiaphas thought for a moment. “I think it best that you keep him in the dark. In fact, when the topic of the prophet Jesus arises, and no doubt it will, begin the ruse with Annas. Make him think that you don’t feel Jesus is a threat, that you plan to do nothing. I think Annas will be a greater asset to me if he thinks you and I are at odds on this issue.”
Pilate looked curiously at the priest, wondering what he planned to do with Annas. Regardless, Pilate admired his cunning. “I will do as you wish—the ruse begins tomorrow with Annas.”
With nothing further to discuss, Caiaphas departed. Pilate sat quietly in his office, thinking of how the meeting had transpired and the plan they had formulated. He believed it could work, and that he just might escape this situation after all. Only one thing bothered him: again he found himself relying on the ability of the high priest.
ELEAZAR
A loud knock awoke Eleazar from a deep sleep the following morning. He had stayed up late waiting for Caiaphas to return from a meeting with Pilate, but he had grown weary and fallen asleep before his father had returned. The slave Philip had now come to his door to inform him that his father had called a meeting that would begin in half an hour.
Eleazar quickly dressed and took some breakfast. He then hurried across the house to his father’s private chambers, where he found both his father and Uncle Aaron. Uncle Simeon and cousin Ezra had yet to arrive.
As he entered, his father greeted him with kiss. Unable to control his eagerness, Eleazar said, “Father, tell me of your meeting with Pilate. Was it successful? I tried to stay awake until your return last night, but the late hour overcame me. Was he angry? Does he plan to arrest the prophet?”
“Patience, my son,” Caiaphas replied. “I will tell all when all have arrived.”
“Yes, of course.” Eleazar was mildly embarrassed at his impatience, but he did not have to wait long. Both Simeon and Ezra arrived in short order.
After they were seated, his father addressed them. “You are all aware of yesterday’s events related to the actions of the prophet Jesus. He entered the city like a conquering king and quickly gathered a crowd, to which he spewed his hatred for us priests. His words against us bother me little; he is not the first prophet or teacher to speak ignorantly about us. Inciting a crowd against our wealth is low-hanging fruit for him, but I do not believe the people would revolt against us or our sacred institution. Most respect it too much, and we have worked hard to establish that trust. But the intentions of this prophet and his popularity with the people are another matter. They are indeed quite troubling and greatly jeopardize the peace of our city. If he can incite the people’s anger over our wealth, he can no doubt incite their anger against Rome—and this possibility is truly dangerous. The people have no stomach for a civil war, but I fear their appetite for war with Rome has grown.
“As you know, last night I met with our governor, Pilate, to discuss these matters. Though not entirely pleasant, the meeting was ultimately profitable. We have formulated a plan for how we will handle this troublesome prophet. I warn you ahead of time that it might not seem favorable on first hearing, but in the end I believe you will come to see, as I have, that it is the best way forward.”
Caiaphas then relayed his meeting with Pilate in detail. He was right: the plan did not seem favorable to anyone in the room, nor did they like Pilate’s treatment of Caiaphas. Ezra and Simeon were indignant that Pilate could fault him for providing what at the time was clearly wise counsel. That the counsel turned out to be wrong hardly made it wrong at the time! They pointed out that it had been Pilate’s own choice to listen to the advice.
Aaron was distressed that Pilate would demand Caiaphas take responsibility for both arresting and executing the prophet. This would greatly damage their reputation with the people, and Annas would no doubt use that against them. While Pilate might be promising his support now, would he continue it when the people brought him their complaints or when Annas pressured him to find a “more competent” high priest? How could Pilate be trusted?
All agreed that the prophet was most definitely Pilate’s problem. Jesus was a threat to Roman stability in the region, and Pilate was the Roman governor. Surely, he ought to be the one to deal with him!
Caiaphas graciously and patiently let them all speak their minds. When they had all said their piece, he spoke. “I assure you there is not a thought or concern you have raised here that I have not also had. Heaven knows I have been up most of the night with such thoughts, and much of what you say has merit on one level or anot
her. In fact, much of it I raised with Pilate myself. But in the end, we must keep one priority above all others, and that is the peace of the city. Nothing else matters more than that—not my reputation, our family’s power, or the fate of the high priesthood.
“Indeed, this plan will likely weaken our political position, and Pilate might not support me under pressure from the people. But none of you can deny that our arrest and execution of Jesus would bring far less risk to the city than if Pilate himself undertook these tasks. We have goodwill with many of our people, and Pilate is right that such goodwill, even if stretched thin by this plan, likely offers us some protection from violence. If surviving the threat of this prophet costs me the high priesthood, then I am willing to make that sacrifice. I have committed myself to this plan, and I ask that you all commit to it as well. I am sure, after giving it some thought, you will see that it is the best possible way to preserve the peace of our city.”
Minor protests followed these words, but gradually those at the table calmed down and with further discussion came to recognize that Caiaphas was right. Pilate’s plan was the best possible option for peace, even if it wasn’t the best plan for maintaining control of the priesthood.
As consensus among the group emerged, Caiaphas addressed them again. “If we are all in agreement, much preparation is needed. First and foremost, we must find out where this prophet goes when he is not in a public place. Aaron, you must set our informants to this task. All must be listening for information, but some should follow the prophet each evening. Does he always leave the city for Bethany? Does he ever stay in the city? If so, where? If we cannot isolate this man and make the arrest at night when all are asleep, our plan has little hope of success.”
