“Ethan, my friend…”
The men, warming their hands at the fire, whispered among themselves as they looked at Peter. He was sitting there, finally getting warm on this long night. He noticed the men looking at him but said nothing.
“What is He like?” asked a man stirring the coals.
“What is who like?” Peter responded, suspiciously.
“Jesus, your Master.” “He is not my Master!”
“You came in with Him, didn’t you?” asked another man.
“No!” said Peter, standing up. “I am not one of His men!”
“There was no lawful warrant in the hands of the arresting officer,” Ethan pleaded, “only that piece of paper on which he had scratched the name of Jesus. He has not been arraigned before the Sanhedrin; no formal charges have been lodged…”
A few of the priests in the room could hear Ethan talking and had turned their heads to listen. Zichri ushered Ethan out of earshot.
“Even these dubious witnesses cannot agree on their story,” he continued. “One fellow says he overheard Jesus say He was able to destroy the Temple. The other said that He would destroy the Temple. The testimony does not agree…”
“Ethan…”
“I order You by the Living God,” boomed the voice of the high priest. “Tell me if You are the Son of God!”
“And that!” said Ethan pointing. “The High Priest is supposedly a protector until the charges have been proven. He is not to prosecute.”
“Are you the Son of God?” Caiaphas demanded.
“Yes,” said Jesus. “It is true. Just as you have said.”
“Blasphemy!” cried Caipaphas, turning to the others in the room. “He is guilty of blasphemy and therefore has condemned Himself to death!”
The other priests agreed with the verdict.
“Wait!” shouted Ethan. “The law provides that we wait one full day before pronouncing judgment! This Man cannot be sentenced lawfully.”
Caiaphas and the others looked at Ethan. Zichri turned to the man and coaxed him along. “Come with me Ethan.”
“These are desperate times, Ethan,” said Caiaphas. “They require extraordinary measures. Zichri will explain all this to you.”
Zichri nodded and took Ethan, still protesting, away from the council.
“And now, what do we do with Him?” asked Achish.
“The law prescribes stoning,” said a priest.
“Yes,” said Caiaphas. “Our law does require that. But Roman law requires that all death sentences be cleared through them.”
He considered for a moment.
“We haven’t much time,” he said finally. “We must settle this before the Sabbath. I don’t want to hold Him any longer than needed in this city. He has too many friends here. Take Him to Pilate. Zichri!”
Zichri came back in without Ethan.
“Ethan understands now why this trial was necessary,” he said. “I explained to him, should Jesus be allowed to live, it was quite possible the Romans would bring an end to us all—including our families.”
“Forget about him,” said Caiaphas. “Take these charges and this blasphemer to Pilate. Tell him we await his instructions.”
“At this hour?”
Zichri took the charges in his hand.
“And tell him we will be grateful for a speedy disposition of the matter.”
Zichri nodded and motioned Ashich to follow him. The guards hustled Jesus outside.
Caiaphas watched as they left. On the floor were drops of blood from the cuts on Jesus’ face made during the questioning.
“Get that filthy mess off my floor,” he ordered a servant. “I will not have the blood of a blasphemer staining my house!”
Peter had moved to the side of the house, near a seldom-used entrance. A man followed him into the alley. He was scrutinizing Peter in the dim light of the early morning sun, just breaking over the horizon.
“You are one of them,” declared the man. “You were in the garden with Him when my cousin Malchius was attacked!”
“I DO NOT KNOW THE MAN!” Peter swore.
At that moment, he looked back and saw Jesus, bleeding from the face, and being led by the guards out the side entrance. Jesus looked at Peter just as a rooster crowed. Their eyes met for an instant.
“Come on, You,” said a guard.
Jesus was hustled on by the men. Peter began weeping bitterly and ran off.
“Poor Peter,” sneered Lucifer, as they watched him run. “Just as I told the Lord last evening. The man is absolutely hopeless!”
“Where is Berenius?” asked Kara. “He would enjoy this.”
“He is presently on another mission,” said Lucifer. “With Judas.”
CHAPTER 20
“Crucify Him!”
33 A.D.
6 AM Friday Morning
The Antonia Fortress
“The high priest has sent a delegation at this hour?”
“Yes, excellency,” said Lucius, Pilate’s aide. “They said it is most urgent. A matter of state.”
“Nothing in this province is urgent,” grumbled Pilate. “Let them wait a while.”
“Excellency, Caiaphas himself has sent a letter,” Lucius offered. He handed over the document to Pilate, who laughed as he read.
“These pious hypocrites, who will not defile themselves by entering my home, are trying to have a Man put to death for some offense against their religion. For this I was roused from my bed?”
Pellecus had maintained a vigil at the home of Pilate ever since the entrance of Jesus into the city. He had done all he could to stir up Pilate’s vanity regarding the Jews. He hoped that by the time the matter of Jesus was brought before him, Pilate would agree to anything just to get rid of them.
He walked with Pilate to the front of the house and out onto a court of the Antonia. The Temple loomed off to his left. Down below was an assembly of official-looking men from the priest’s office, and some soldiers dragging a beaten, bloodied Man bound at the wrists. Pilate descended the stairs. Pellecus joined Lucifer and Kara.
“I see the other side is not missing any of this,” said Lucifer, noting the presence of Michael, Gabriel and Crispin. They stood near Jesus, watching the proceedings. Jesus remained silent, His eyes lowered.
Pilate scanned the face of the Man standing before him. He was a young Man. Too young, he thought, to be condemned for violating the pride of the priesthood. But he would reserve judgment for the moment. He walked around Jesus, examining Him, noting the places where He had been beaten.
“He is obstinate,” assured Zichri.
“I am sure,” said Pilate, bitingly. “So unlike the priests.”
Zichri glanced at Achish uncomfortably.
“Well, what are the charges here?” sighed Pilate, whose official robe had been brought out to him by his servant.
“The charge is blasphemy, excellency,” said Zichri. “A crime most heinous to our people, and punishable by death.”
The priests noted that several squads of Roman soldiers had begun to close in. An adjutant came and whispered into Pilate’s ear and then stood by at attention. Pilate looked at the man who was charged.
“Blasphemy, is it?” he said in mock seriousness.
“Yes, excellency.”
Pilate turned to Lucius, his aide.
“You know Lucius, if we Romans ever put to death everyone who had blasphemed the gods, there would be none of us left alive!”
Lucius laughed.
“If He were not guilty, we would not have brought Him before you,” said Achish.
Pilate sneered at the men.
“You bring this Man to me because He is guilty of violating some idiocy involving your religion, and expect me to condemn Him? Judge Him according to your own law!”
Zichri looked at the men.
“Excellency, as you know, it is unlawful for us to put a man to death.”
Kara moved over to Achish and spoke into his mind.
“The Man is a menace to
Caesar…”
“Of course blasphemy is only an offense against our people,” said Achish. “He is also guilty of treason against Rome.”
“Really?” inquired Pilate. “How so?”
“He calls Himself a King,” said Zichri, picking up on Achish’s reasoning. “He says He is King of the Jews, and He forbids tribute to Caesar!”
With the matter of Caesar brought up, Pilate was forced to take action. He ordered Jesus brought into the palace where he could question Him further. When they were in private, Pilate began speaking.
“Look, You, I know these men are vile and petty,” he said. “They are wanting to kill You for reasons I think are ridiculous. But they have now implicated You in treason. Now, we both know Caesar is king. What do You say? Are You a King? Answer me and I’ll have them flogged and end this nonsense.”
“Did they tell you to ask Me this?” Jesus asked. A droplet of blood ran off His cheek and fell on the floor between them.
“Am I a Jew?” Pilate mocked. “It is Your own people who brought You here. What have You done?”
“The Kingdom of which you speak is not of this world,” Jesus said, looking through Pilate.
Pilate was confused.
“So You are a King then?”
“I am a King, if you say so,” said Jesus. “But I command truth. And all who hear Me hear the truth.”
Pilate was getting frustrated with it all.
“What is truth?” he asked.
“What is truth,” Berenius whispered into Judas’ ears.
Judas stopped up his ears as if to shut down the voices speaking into his mind. Ever since the betrayal he had fallen into a deep despair. Now he felt completely abandoned by everyone, including himself. He had even returned the money to the priests, casting it at their feet, and confessing to them he had condemned an innocent Man to death.
Now he was condemning himself.
“You shall never be able to live with yourself…”
“Stop it!” Judas shouted, hitting his head with his hands.
He wandered through the early morning, like an animal uncaged for the first time and unsure of where to go. He could not find solace anywhere…in any place…in any face. He was a man separated from life itself.
“Why prolong your condemnation? End it…”
“End it,” Judas said under his breath. He saw a rope nearby.
“End it…”
He began crying and picked up the rope, looping it over the branch of a tree, and climbing on a stump. Taking one last look toward the city, he tied the other end of the rope around his neck. In the distance he saw the temple, shimmering in the morning sun now. With a shuddering sob, Judas threw himself forward.
When Pilate emerged from his conference with Jesus, he shouted at Zichri.
“This is nonsense! I find the Man innocent!”
The priests began protesting vehemently, spurred on by Zichri.
“His teachings stir up the people throughout our land, from Galilee to this very city! He is guilty of sedition!”
Pilate turned to Lucius.
“Did they say Galilee?”
“Yes, excellency. Jesus is a Galilean.”
Pilate smiled.
“Your own king, Herod, is in this city for the Passover,” he said. “He is ruler over Galilee. My judgment is that you take this Man to Herod to be tried by him. He has the legal jurisdiction, not I.”
“But excellency,” pleaded Zichri, glaring at the men who had brought up the fact Jesus was from Galilee.
“Enough!” shouted Pilate. “Take Him to Herod. And get out of my sight!”
33 A.D.
7 AM Friday Morning
The Hasmonean Palace
Herod still smelled of wine when Jesus was brought into the entrance of the Hasmonean Palace. Herodius, who had always been curious what the famous cousin of John looked like, watched from the shadows. Herod groggily read the charges that were brought before him.
“Apart from all these things, sire,” continued Zichri, “this Man…
“This is the One who performs miracles, isn’t it?” interrupted Herod, who was suddenly more alert. “Herodius! Come and see! This is Jesus of Nazareth; the One that John went on and on about.” He looked almost embarrassed and added. “Oh, I am sorry about Your cousin. But when a king makes a vow…”
“Perhaps He will do a miracle for us,” suggested Herodius.
“Really, sire,” stammered Zichri. “This is neither the time nor the place…”
“I will say what is what in my own palace!” shouted Herod.
Zichri bowed his head and backed away.
“This is quite astonishing,” said Kara. “This Herod must be absolutely mad.”
“Not really,” said Lucifer. “He is simply a fool trying to be a king. Like every other human ruler. Ah, Berenius!”
Berenius appeared and walked over to Lucifer, bowing his head. Kara was annoyed at not knowing what assignment Berenius had been on.
“It is done?” purred Lucifer.
“Yes,” said Berenius. “It is finished. Judas has taken his own life.”
“Good,” smiled Lucifer. “The rest of them shall also be rounded up and killed or scattered into oblivion. Either way, this Kingdom dies with their King.”
Jesus refused to answer Herod. Herod plead with Him to perform a miracle of some sort—but Jesus remained quiet. The priests were becoming unnerved by it all. Zichri was moved to impatience.
“They say You are a king,” Herod said. “A king of the Jews. I thought I was king of the Jews. Are you King, Jesus?”
No answer.
“They have brought You here so I may judge You. I will release You if You will only answer me and perhaps perform a miracle to prove who You are.”
No answer.
“A king should always look his best for his subjects,” said Herod. “Bring me my robe—the one that is for special occasions.”
An aide ran out of the room.
“I’m afraid I cannot help You, Jesus,” said Herod. “But I can do something for You. They brought You here a King looking like a clown,” he said. “I shall send You back a clown looking like a King.”
He then ordered the robe placed upon Jesus. The officers made a great show of it, bowing low before Jesus and enrobing Him as if for a coronation. The priests watched the charade impatiently.
“Take Him back to Pilate,” Herod finally ordered. “I find nothing to charge this Man with. Farewell, King of the Jews.”
He looked Jesus in the eyes.
“I envy the people’s love for You, Jesus,” he said quietly, so that only Jesus could hear. “Just as these men are jealous of their love for You. And so I release You into the custody of God. I only hope He will have more mercy upon You than His priests.”
After they were gone, he noticed a spot of blood on a tile near the doorway. It was still moist. He ground it into the tile and retired to his chamber.
33 A.D.
8 AM Friday Morning
The Antonia Fortress
“You have brought this Man to me twice now, as One who perverts the people. And yet having examined Him before you I find no fault in Him. No, nor does Herod find anything worthy of death. I will scourge Him and release Him.”
Lucifer was becoming increasingly agitated at the priests’ inability to get a charge. He ordered his angels to begin moving in and out of the gathering crowd to stir them to demand Jesus’ life. Pilate ordered more guards into the area.
“He is a traitor to Caesar!” one of the priests screamed.
Rugio and his troops arrived and began whipping the crowd into an angry mob. Thousands of angels poured into the area, gripping people by the eyes and mind and inciting them to perverse and violent notions.
Pilate held up his hands to subdue the crowd. While he had no reservations about brutalizing this mob, he did not want word to get back to Tiberias of yet another disturbance in Judea. When they were quiet he told them:
“
I know you have a custom in this land to release a prisoner at the feast,” he began. Zichri was already shaking his head ‘no’. “I shall release to you this Jesus of Nazareth; after He has been scourged, of course.”
The crowd exploded once more in opposition to Jesus. Where did all of this come from, Pilate wondered. Then a name was called out from the crowd.
“Barabbas! Release him instead!”
The people began voicing the name of ‘Barabbas’ over and over. Pilate wondered at a crowd who would allow a known murderer to be freed, while an innocent Man would be condemned. What should he do?
In his cell, not far from where the trial was taking place, Barabbas could hear his name being called out. He began fearing for his life believing they intended to take him by force and kill him. But he knew he was guilty and he was prepared to die. He only hoped death would come quickly.
“My love!”
Pilate turned to see his wife, Claudia, in the entryway. He walked over to her and escorted her back inside.
“What are you doing?” he demanded. “This crowd is nearly in riot!”
“I have not slept my darling,” she said. “Because of that Man.”
“Nor has any of Jerusalem, it seems,” Pilate answered, stroking her hair.
“No! You don’t understand,” she continued. “I have suffered terrible nightmares because of Him. You must have nothing to do with Him or else there will be a tragic consequence for us.”
“Nurse!” he shouted.
He ordered the nurse to take his wife back to her room. She was still crying as she left. But the crowd only grew louder…
“BARABBAS!”
“BARABBAS!”
“BARABBAS!”
Lucifer had not been so confident since the first days of the war after the fall of A’dam. He looked with approval at his angels working the crowds over, causing them to rave about Jesus and asking for His blood. He saw Pellecus standing with Pilate firming up his resolve. There was Kara with the priests, encouraging their mischief.
Final Confrontation Page 26
