“What do you want Me to do for you?” Jesus asked him.
“Lord, let me receive my sight.”
There was no begging in Bartimaeus’s request, no flattery, no fawning. It was a simple statement of Bartimaeus’s faith in Jesus’ ability to heal him. And the faith stirred an answering chord in Jesus’ heart.
“Go your way,” Jesus told Bartimaeus. “Your faith has made you whole.”
So overwhelmed by the sudden burst of light and beauty from which his eyes had been shut away for so many years, Bartimaeus for a moment could only kneel in the roadway, dazed and half stunned by this miracle which had brought sight to him again. Jesus, pausing only long enough to heal him, was almost out of sight before Bartimaeus recovered from the suddenness of his cure.
When he did recover, he snatched up his robe where it had fallen, and throwing it around his body, joined the procession that followed the Master.
III
Zacchaeus was a small man, not only in body but in spirit. Though the office of tax collector or publican was the most despised in all of Israel, it gave a clever man a chance to grow rich and was a means of gaining power over others. Where a bigger man would have spurned this office, Zacchaeus, seeing its particular opportunities, had actively sought the post.
The collection of taxes was let by a contract under which the contractor guaranteed to produce a specified amount of revenue to the government. Whatever he was able to extract from the people over and above that enriched—within certain official limitations—his own fortunes. By shrewdly taking advantage of every opportunity his office afforded, Zacchaeus had become chief of all the tax gatherers in Jericho. In this position he wielded much power, power which greatly expanded the size of his small soul.
Zacchaeus was returning from one of the tax collection stations on the outskirts of Jericho when he heard the tumult that marked the passage of Jesus through Jericho after the restoration of Bartimaeus’s sight. Always curious, Zacchaeus could not let such a procession pass without seeing for himself what person of importance was its center. The press of people made it impossible for anyone of such short stature to see over the heads of the crowd, but this did not deter the publican. Noting a sycamore fig tree nearby, he quickly scrambled into its lower branches from where he could see everything that went on.
The Galileans who accompanied Jesus knew many people in Jericho, for some of them came to Jerusalem every year at this season and both going and coming the City of Palms was a logical stopping place. As the procession went by, cries of greeting and warm salutations were being uttered all around Zacchaeus, but there were few persons to give him more than a civil nod. The people of Jericho could not afford to antagonize the tax gatherer, for that could mean a rise in taxes the following year, yet at the same time they took no pains to greet him.
For the first time since he was a small boy unable to play vigorous games with other boys of his age, Zacchaeus felt utterly alone. He had the power and riches for which he had worked all his life. But he was ignored in the salutations being exchanged below him; he missed the warm cheerful voice of a friend raised in a greeting that was not to curry favor but to express a spontaneous liking.
Little Zacchaeus in his tree, though taller than all the rest by his own efforts, suddenly sensed the narrowness of his own soul and his own life. He could have estimated almost to a single denarius the worldly goods possessed by many of the Galileans accompanying the Nazarene prophet, and his own fortune probably exceeded all theirs combined. And yet they had something he did not have. They loved Jesus of Nazareth and were joined together in the natural and happy bondage of that love, something Zacchaeus’s own riches, his own power, had never brought him.
Sitting there, a forlorn figure in the sycamore tree, Zacchaeus was suddenly alone, bitterly and utterly alone with the realization that his own life, for all his cleverness and his efforts to impress others, was even smaller in its scope than he was in body. It was a shattering moment of awareness, and Zacchaeus would gladly have given all his wealth to be one of the happy Galilean fishermen who followed the Nazarene teacher to Jerusalem.
But now from the black depths of his despair, Zacchaeus heard a voice calling out his name. Absorbed in his own misery, he did not at first recognize its source. Then he heard his name repeated again and looked down to see that Jesus of Nazareth stood beneath the tree, looking up at him with eyes that were warm with a light Zacchaeus had not seen in another’s face for a long time, a light of understanding and love.
“Zacchaeus, make haste and come down,” the gentle voice said. “Today I must abide at your house.”
Zacchaeus did not pause to consider that the Nazarene was under sentence of death by the Sanhedrin in Jerusalem. Or that Herod Antipas, who could influence the Roman authorities to take away Zacchaeus’s commission as tax gatherer, was reported to be seeking the prophet’s destruction. Nothing mattered save the genuine warmth and love he heard in Jesus’ voice. Without hesitating, he scrambled down from the tree and ran to kneel at Jesus’ feet, but Jesus blessed him and lifted him up.
Walking beside Jesus and not at all concerned now by his slightness of stature, Zacchaeus almost skipped in his happiness at the prospect of having such a guest in his home. As he walked, secure in the peace and serenity of mind the Nazarene’s greeting had brought him, he poured out his heart, knowing instinctively that Jesus would understand and forgive his many faults.
This was not the attitude of the crowd that followed as Jesus and His immediate party turned aside to the tax gatherer’s house, however. They knew Jesus was supposed to be a holy man, one who told even the haughty Pharisees what they should and should not do. And yet here He was, going to the house of the worst publican of all.
Jesus had never paid any attention to such grumbling, nor did He now. One of His most faithful disciples, Levi (or Matthew), had been a publican and had left his tax gatherer’s table to follow Him. Jesus did not now tell Zacchaeus what he should do to atone for his past misdeeds. From the depths of his misery in the sycamore tree, the publican had sent forth an unspoken plea for love and understanding, and Jesus, with the greatness of heart that set Him apart, had heard and understood.
The change in Zacchaeus had begun to take place when he realized his need for the kind of riches that faith in Jesus could give him. The process of redemption for Zacchaeus begun then, even before Jesus had spoken to him, would go on now to its logical conclusion. Had evidence of this been needed, it could have been found in Zacchaeus’s own words as they approached the threshold of his luxurious home.
“Behold, Lord,” the publican said humbly. “I hereby give half of my goods to the poor. And if I have taken anything from any man, I return him fourfold.”
The new Zacchaeus was speaking, the one who had been reborn in the sycamore tree, and Jesus recognized that the change was complete.
“This day has salvation come to this house,” He said. “For the Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.”
IV
Jesus had beard the grumblings of the crowd when He singled out Zacchaeus for His favor. On the threshold of the publican’s house He turned to address those who were gathered outside, teaching them in the form of a parable.
“A certain nobleman went into a far country to receive for himself a kingdom and to return,” He said. “And he called his ten servants and delivered them ten minas and said to them, ‘Occupy yourselves till I return.’
“But his citizens hated him and sent a message after him saying, ‘We will not have this man to reign over us.’ And it came to pass, that when he returned, having received the kingdom, he then commanded these servants to whom he had given the money to be called that he might know how every man had gained by trading.
“Then came the first, saying, ‘Lord, your mina has gained ten minas.’ And he said to him, ‘Well done, good servant. Because you hav
e been faithful in a very little, you will have authority over ten cities.’
“And the second came saying, ‘Lord, your mina has gained five minas.’ And he said likewise to him, ‘You will be also over five cities.’
“And another came saying, ‘Lord, behold here is your mina, which I have kept laid up in a napkin, for I feared you because you are an austere man. You take up what you do not lay down and you reap what you do not sow.’
“Then the king said to him, ‘Out of your own mouth will I judge you, you wicked servant. You knew that I was an austere man, taking up what I did not lay down and reaping what I did not sow. Why then did you not give my money to the moneylenders, that at my coming I might have required my own with usury?’ And he said to them that stood by, ‘Take from him the mina and give it to him who has ten.’
“But they said to him, ‘Lord, he has ten minas.’
“‘I say to you, that to every one which has shall be given; and from him who has not, even what he has shall be taken away from him. But my enemies, who do not wish that I should reign over them, bring hither and slay them before me.’”
The disciples, particularly Judas and Simon the Zealot, were pleased by this parable of a king who came back to be crowned in his own household. They felt it meant that Jesus intended to assume the authority of a King in Jerusalem, using His miraculous powers to destroy any who opposed Him.
It was a truly joyous group that took the road to Jerusalem now, one which could not doubt Jesus’ own eagerness to reach the Holy City, for He pressed on ahead of the others, and by late afternoon they reached Bethany. Most of the party continued around the Mount of Olives to secure the select camping sites afforded by the western slope overlooking Jerusalem and the temple. Jesus remained in the house of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus in Bethany, a spot He had come to love almost as much as the beautiful hills and fertile fields of Galilee.
Chapter 27
Look, the world has gone after Him!
John 12:19
The arrival of the large group of pilgrims that had accompanied Jesus could hardly pass unnoticed in Jerusalem. As soon as it became known that He was at Bethany, crowds began to flock to the suburb to see Jesus and also to see Lazarus, who had been raised from the dead only a few weeks before. Simon Peter and the rest of the disciples were pleased by the size of the crowds, for they would help swell Jesus’ following when the time came for His triumphal entry into the city.
Caiaphas had been busy, plotting how to seize Jesus without stirring up a riot in the city which would bring the Romans upon the scene. Word had gone out through the entire area that anyone knowing the whereabouts of the Nazarene should at once notify Abiathar, captain of the temple guards. By taking Jesus outside the temple, Caiaphas hoped to avoid stirring up the multitude which had made His arrest impossible on other occasions there.
Had Jesus come directly into Jerusalem from Jericho, this stratagem might have succeeded, for the number of guards at the gates had been doubled. But by remaining at Bethany, a town where He had many followers, and then arriving in Jerusalem on the eve of the Sabbath, Jesus foiled Caiaphas’ well-laid plan. To have arrested Jesus on the Sabbath would have been an act of desecration at which pious Jews would have risen up in horror. And to have taken Him when surrounded by such a large group of His Galilean followers would surely have meant a bloody conflict that would have brought Pontius Pilate into action. The memory of the abortive Galilean revolt was fresh in everyone’s mind; a second revolt coming so soon after it would be interpreted by the procurator as a failure on the part of the high priest and the Sanhedrin to control their own people. It was quite within Pilate’s authority, and in keeping with what they knew of his temper, to remove them summarily from office.
Frustrated and angry at the turn of events and not knowing what move Jesus would make next, Caiaphas was forced to wait until the Sabbath was over to call a meeting of the Priestly Council, or Lesser Sanhedrin.
It was a solemn-faced group that met in the palace of the high priest as soon as the setting sun marked the end of the Sabbath. Caiaphas, angry that Jesus had been able to come as close to Jerusalem as Bethany without being harmed, was determined that He should not enter the city itself. At any other time Nicodemus would have enjoyed the discomfiture of the high priest, but now he was too concerned with the danger to Jesus to take comfort from Caiaphas’s troubles. Elam, as chief of the Pharisees, was coldly furious with both Caiaphas and Abiathar. He knew how much the hold of the Pharisees over the people could be weakened if, as before, Jesus denounced them to the crowds which would surely gather when word came that He was inside the city.
“You Sadducees have failed, as I knew you would,” Elam accused Caiaphas. “How many times will you bungle the job of destroying this man?”
“Your agents followed Him through Galilee trying to convict Him of blasphemy,” Caiaphas retorted. “It would have been simpler to stop Him there.”
As usual, old Annas tried to be the peacemaker. “It serves no good purpose to quarrel among ourselves,” he told the two. “The Nazarene has still not entered the city.”
“And He will not do so,” Caiaphas said. “Abiathar has guards at every gate. They will arrest Him if He tries to enter.”
Nicodemus spoke for the first time. “I think neither of you realizes what has happened in this part of Judea since Jesus raised Lazarus from the d—”
“That was a trick!” Elam interrupted. “I have witnesses who will swear that Lazarus never was dead!”
Nicodemus shrugged. “Which will Pilate believe, the witnesses or the physician who pronounced him dead and saw him laid in the tomb? Remember, four days passed before Lazarus was raised.”
“Are you saying we should crown the Galilean king because of that?” Elam sneered.
“King? No. I doubt if Jesus wants that.”
“What does He want then? If you are so much in His confidence, surely He has told you.”
“Perhaps for the people to return to the true worship of God,” Nicodemus said. “Most prophets have been sent for that reason.”
“Do you think Him truly a prophet?” the rabbi Jochai inquired.
“It would be simpler to name Him such and show Him the respect that is due a prophet.”
“And let Him undermine our interpretation of the Law?” Elam demanded passionately. “If the people lose respect for the Law, they will drift into heathen ways. That happened once before and it could happen again.”
“The Nazarene must die; the Sanhedrin has already decided that,” Caiaphas said.
“How will you take Him then?” Elam demanded. “He is always surrounded by Galileans and you know what that name means to Pontius Pilate after what Barabbas’s band tried to do.”
“Not all His disciples are Galilean,” Caiaphas pointed out. “One is of Judea, a native of Kerioth.”
“Does that make Him a traitor?” Nicodemus asked.
Caiaphas flushed at his tone. “I have it upon good authority that Judas and perhaps one other among the Nazarene’s disciples are not wholly satisfied with His activities. If Jesus became king, Judas could expect to control the treasury. But if he is convinced the Nazarene will not be king, perhaps—perhaps might he not want to save his own life?”
“Have you already negotiated with this one called Judas?” Nicodemus asked angrily.
Caiaphas ignored the question. On at least one other occasion he had suspected that Nicodemus had warned Jesus of his plots, so he now dismissed the gathering. But when Nicodemus had left, he called the others back.
“Have you a plan, Caiaphas?” Elam asked.
“In coming to Jerusalem for any of the feasts,” Caiaphas said, “the Nazarene has so far followed the same course. He goes to the temple with a few of His followers and teaches from the porch like any other rabbi.”
“He has no right to th
e title of rabbi,” protested Jochai. “I have found none who can testify that the Nazarene studied under any great teachers. It is obvious that He follows neither Shammai nor Hillel.”
“Exactly,” said Caiaphas. “If Jesus dares to come to the temple, you will challenge His right to teach there, Jochai. But I don’t think He will get that far.”
“Why not?” Elam inquired.
“The Nazarene does not usually come to the city during the first days of any feast. He will probably remain in Bethany at the home of Lazarus. Our first task, then, is to seize Lazarus for harboring one under sentence by the court. And this time,” he added grimly, “we will be sure that Lazarus is dead and that no trick can be used to make it appear that he has been raised from the dead.”
“Do you think Jesus might give Himself up to save Lazarus?” Jochai asked.
Caiaphas permitted himself a smile. “The Nazarene must save Lazarus or deny His own teachings.”
“The plan sounds feasible,” Elam admitted. “And if Jesus is taken?”
“The court has already passed sentence on Him. It needs only to be reaffirmed, and this does not require the entire court.”
Elam nodded with satisfaction. He knew from experience how arguments before the Sanhedrin could become involved. It would be much simpler to handle things with only a picked group present. Even if Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea were known to sympathize with Jesus, they could easily be voted down. Then only Pontius Pilate’s approval for the execution would be necessary, and the procurator had never been known to question the desires of the Sanhedrin on a religious matter.
“It is a good plan,” the Pharisee agreed. “If the Nazarene lets Lazarus die and saves Himself, the people will realize that He is not the Messiah. And if He gives Himself up, we have Him without conflict.”
The Crown and the Cross: The Life of Christ Page 30
