She reached up and kissed his cheek. “Be strong, my Lucius. I have beseeched the gods for wisdom.”
He nodded and went to face the Jewish delegation.
She watched from the shadows again as he took his seat before the large crowd and unrolled a scroll. He handed it to his tribune to read aloud.
“The council has responded with the following statements: First, the ensigns were designed by and belong to the Roman military. They have nothing to do with the Jews. Second, it is not for the Jews to draw religious meaning into Roman customs which do not concern them. Third, Jews are not required to worship the image of Caesar, and Rome leaves Jewish religious practices alone; therefore, tolerance is required on both sides. Fourth, to tamper with these standards would be a direct and unforgivable insult to the emperor. Therefore, we will not concede on this matter.”
There was a moment of stunned silence. Then the leading priest spoke angrily. “You tamper with our customs by changing the high priesthood five times!” He turned and spoke briefly with others in his delegation. The crowd behind them began to murmur.
The priest turned and faced Lucius, his chin up in defiance. “This is in direct conflict with our ancient laws. We will remain here in Caesarea and pray. May the Most High God lead you to remove these accursed and abominable banners from the Holy City.”
There were shouts of agreement from the crowd, who shook their fists and cried out to the governor.
“You have no respect for our laws!”
“You defile our Holy City with your graven images!”
“No other governor has dared to do such a thing, it is an insult to our God!”
Lucius sat on his judgment seat, and his face was dark with anger. “There is no god but Caesar. It is time you Jews knew that and gave the emperor the respect he is due. I will not remove the banners.”
The huge crowd was growing by the minute as other Jews came from surrounding areas to protest. Lucius listened for a few more moments and then rose and deliberately left the square, ignoring them.
He dined with his council instead of Claudia, but she knew the servants would tell Hotep of the conversation.
Hotep joined her in Claudia’s quarters with a simple repast of bread and lentil soup.
“What news do you have for me? What does the council say about this?”
Hotep shook her head. “They are congratulating themselves that the matter is over and done with. They feel that by sunset most of the mob will return home. They won’t want to spend another night in the cold.”
“I hope they are right.”
Claudia was puzzled. Why would these people object to an image of the man who ruled over them? She turned to Hotep. “Is there a Jew among our staff who can explain these things to me?”
“I don’t know . . . wait. Yes, Domina, there is an old man named Jeremiah. He works in the gardens. I will see if he will talk to you.”
Lucius was busy with the council and other matters of government, and it seemed like a good time to meet with this Jewish man. After lunch, at her maid’s suggestion, she waited in one of the private alcoves in the center courtyard.
Claudia sat quietly, contemplating what she had seen that day, and almost didn’t hear the footsteps until the man was nearly in front of her. She looked up into a weathered face with piercing brown eyes. He was slightly stooped and his gnarled hands still had dirt on them. His bushy eyebrows were knit together as he stood before her.
His face was guarded and his tone almost harsh. “Domina, you wished to see me?”
“Yes, Jeremiah, is it?”
“Yes, Domina.” His entire manner spoke of disapproval.
“I wish to know the reason why the Jews are so angry about the banners in Jerusalem. They were only meant to honor the emperor. Is that wrong?”
He studied her a moment, considering her words, and his face softened a bit. “We serve a God, Domina, who forbids graven images. There have been banners in Jerusalem before, but they had no image on them. We respect the emperor as one must respect the ruler of a conquered people. Your husband has created a very bad situation that could lead to bloodshed. Our leaders will not relent and allow the banners to remain.”
“Jeremiah, since we are here to govern this region in the emperor’s name, we must do what honors the emperor.”
“Except to bring a graven image of an idol worshiper into the Holy City.”
“We Romans have always worshiped gods that we can see. I do not understand the worship of an invisible god that no one can see.”
He looked at her, and while his look was not patronizing, he spoke as one would speak to a child. “Why do you worship gods that are made with your own hands? They cannot speak, nor hear, nor see. They are only images made of stone or wood. You take a tree and use part of the tree to fuel your fire, and then use another part of the same tree to create an image you can bow down to. How can these images your craftsmen have created hear your prayers?”
Before she could consider his question, she suddenly spied Lucius standing across the courtyard watching them. He did not look pleased.
She stood and gathered her palla about her. “We will talk again, Jeremiah. I wish to know more, but this is not the time.”
He gave a slight bow. “As you wish, Domina, but the matter of the banners is not finished.”
The old man returned to his gardening and Claudia smiled charmingly at her husband.
“You have finished your business? I was looking forward to your company.”
“Who was that you were talking to?”
“He is one of the gardeners, my love. I have been inquiring about different plants and flowers that would brighten up this dark palace. Do you not wish me to get acquainted with the staff? I don’t know how long we will be here, and it is my task to oversee them.”
“So it is.” With a smile, he tucked her hand on his arm. “Let us walk in the garden. It has been a trying day.”
“Will the crowd disperse?”
“So far they have not. I will see if they are still there tomorrow. The council feels they will get tired of waiting out in the cold.”
“I’m sure you are right.”
They talked of mundane things, but Claudia saw her husband glance in the direction of the square from time to time. Then his tribune came and whispered something in his ear causing him to smack his palm with his fist. “Give them another day,” he growled.
“Yes, Excellency.”
When the tribune had gone, Lucius left her to attend to other matters. She wearily climbed the stairs to her chamber. Why was she so tired?
She lay down to rest and was instantly asleep, but the dream she’d had months ago returned. It was the same man she had seen in the other dream—a man with strange, compelling eyes. There was great sorrow on his face and it was bloody. What did he want of her? Why did he haunt her dreams?
23
The next morning Claudia followed a confident Lucius to the balcony. He told her he’d arranged for a group of soldiers to clean up the plaza. As they reached the balcony and looked down, Lucius uttered a curse. The crowd had not only remained, but it had grown even larger.
Just then someone in the crowd spotted them on the balcony and alerted others. All eyes turned their way and the mob rose as one body, shaking their fists and crying out, “Down with the graven images! Remove the idols from our Holy City!”
Lucius jerked Claudia away from the balcony, back into the palace. His face was clouded with anger as he called his tribune. “Do not antagonize the crowd any more than they are already worked up. Station your men in critical places and watch, but be prepared to defend yourselves if the crowd becomes violent.”
“Yes, Excellency.” The tribune saluted and hurried away.
The clamor of the crowd seemed to go in waves. One moment Claudia heard tumultuous shouting and then silence for hours. She wondered why Lucius couldn’t just take the banners down, but she endeavored to be confident in her tone and supportive of her
husband as she listened to him think out loud.
“Beloved, if this mob turns to violence I wish you to return to your quarters with Hotep and bolt the door.” He gave her a stern look. “I am aware you have been nearby listening to what is going on. The crowd could overwhelm the palace and there could be bloodshed. I will not have you in danger.”
“Of course, Lucius. With all you have on your mind, you must not have the additional worry of my safety.”
He seemed pleased with her response. He kissed her and left to once again speak with his council.
She frowned. Was Lucius anticipating danger from the crowd? His words struck fear into her heart. Would the people overcome the guards? She shivered at the thought of what would happen if the soldiers were forced to use their broadswords.
After Lucius left, she was once again compelled to slip out near the balcony, but this time she stayed out of sight in the shadows to observe the crowd.
Some appeared to be praying, others were chanting. Now and then a song in Hebrew would rise and be taken up by the crowd until the notes swelled on the morning air.
She turned to Hotep, who had joined her. “I wish I knew what they were singing.”
“Jeremiah told us they sing some of the Psalms—how their God is an ever-present help in their times of trouble.”
Jeremiah. Claudia wanted to speak with him again, but she would have to wait until this crisis passed. She could not ask Jeremiah to come to her quarters, nor could she go down to the garden. Lucius would be angry to find her so near the entrance to the palace and vulnerable if the crowd’s mood changed.
By the fourth day, the crowd had not moved. A few stragglers had gone, but it represented a small fraction of the huge gathering. When dark clouds appeared on the horizon, Lucius took heart. Perhaps a rainstorm, common in October, would drench the crowd and force them to retreat to their homes.
Beginning with a light spattering of drops, the storm increased in volume, whipping the tents set up in the plaza and drenching those who had no shelter. Then those who had tents opened them to shelter those who didn’t, and others just sought what shelter they could find near the plaza. Claudia and Lucius watched from a palace window.
Lucius shook his head in consternation. “What is the matter with those people? Why do they persist in this ridiculous protest? I should have been given a larger force.”
“Why were you not?”
He shrugged. “Sejanus said the legions were needed on the frontiers of the empire and what I had was enough to keep peace in Judea.”
“But it is not enough?”
“My dear Claudia, Judea is the most rebellious province in the Roman Empire. Did you know that there have been twelve major rebellions in this area since it was conquered?”
She shook her head. “And the emperor does not wish to see another rebellion under your governorship?”
“It would probably be the end of my tenure here. I would be recalled to Rome and only the gods know to what.”
The fifth day more problems arose. Many of the Jews had sent for their own provisions and were no longer buying from the local vendors. Harsh words and insults were traded between Jew and Gentile and several small incidents began to occur.
Claudia knew her husband had to somehow find a way to defuse the situation. When she pressed him for his solution, he merely told her the disturbance had to end and went to confer with his counsel. When he came up to their quarters later, he would not tell her what the council had decided, but the servants told her that additional troops were coming from Sebaste.
Early the next morning, Lucius sent for his tribune. He murmured orders, the soldier saluted and quickly left. In a short time, trumpets silenced the crowd. The tribune announced that the governor of Judea would personally reply to their petition within the hour.
The delegation of priests conferred together and nodded to the people. With much murmuring, the crowd settled by their tents and belongings to wait for the governor.
With a lighter heart, Claudia realized Lucius might have found a way out of this dilemma. Hopefully the plaza would be cleared by the end of the day.
Lucius, appearing smug, allowed Claudia to accompany him. She was seated in the shadows on the dais erected above the plaza. Lucius wore his official toga with its wide stripe of royal purple. The trumpets announced his entrance as he strode to the seat of tribunal on the dais next to his purple governor’s standard.
The Jews stood expectantly. A fanfare opened the ceremonial. Lucius leaned forward. “I greet you in the name of the Emperor Tiberius Caesar. Do you have any final words before I render a judgment?”
The Jewish leaders came and once again presented their petition to remove the standards from the Holy City.
Lucius listened, his head tilted to one side. “On this matter of graven images, is there or has there been any instance where you have allowed this? You have no images, even of your own prophets or leaders?”
“No, Excellency.”
Lucius fired his first salvo. “I’ve been told that the Jews in Mesopotamia paint pictorial frescoes on the walls of their synagogues, and Jews even in Rome draw and sculpt figures on their burial vaults. How do you explain this discrepancy?”
The leader appeared shocked for a moment, then recovered himself. “These Jews are cousins, but they do not honor our laws. They are committing sacrilege, for their actions conflict with what our God has ordained.”
“I’ve also been informed that Herod placed a golden eagle over the very gate of your temple.”
“It was torn down by the people, Excellency.”
“I see. Now what about the silver denarii you use that has the image of the emperor on it?”
The rabbis turned and murmured among themselves. Claudia felt Lucius had them there and waited anxiously for how they would respond.
The Jewish leader approached Lucius again. “Excellency, we are required to pay tribute to Rome. As such we use the monetary coin of the Roman Empire. However, those coins are not used in the Temple. We don’t feel the coins have any religious significance.”
Lucius was becoming impatient. “Then why are you concerned about the standards? We don’t expect you to worship our standards any more than you worship our money.”
“Your Excellency, our law forbids religious images, especially in the Holy City.” Claudia noted his tone was patronizing and glanced at Lucius.
“Enough!” he bellowed at them. “You try my patience. I have heard all I wish to hear. My final judgment is that the ensigns of the emperor will remain in Jerusalem. I shall not insult our emperor by ordering their removal. You will give me your immediate agreement and you and this crowd will leave Caesarea at once.”
The Jewish leaders stood in shocked silence. They again conferred and finally, with one voice cried out loudly. “We shall remain here in Caesarea until the idols are removed.”
The crowd, watching in comparative silence, now erupted in angry shouts. “Remove the cursed idols! They are an abomination!”
Lucius nodded to his tribune who gave a signal. Suddenly cries of fear gripped the crowd as they were surrounded by hundreds of Roman soldiers.
His jaw was rigid and his fists were clenched as Lucius stared down at the Jewish leaders. “You are convicted of treason and sedition against the Emperor Tiberius Caesar. The penalty for this is death. You have one last warning to leave this plaza in peace. Those who remain after this warning will be killed. I will not tolerate this disturbance any longer, now go!”
The leaders murmured together, then stepped forward and cried, “Kill us if you feel you must, but we will not agree to leave those graven images in our Holy City.”
“You want the blood of these people gathered here on your hands?”
Claudia held her breath. Lucius had not been prepared for these obstinate Jews to die for their beliefs. He looked down at the men standing bravely at his feet. He glanced back at Claudia. She was sure he’d only meant to threaten them, not bring them to t
he point of death. How could he order a needless slaughter?
“You would die over a banner?”
“Yes,” answered one of the leaders. “We would die for what we believe.”
When he shook his head. Claudia prayed silently that the gods would give him wisdom.
Lucius turned his attention to the crowd. “Women and children may leave in peace, but go now. Any of the men who wish to live may leave now and you will not be penalized. Return to your homes and families.”
To Claudia’s relief, some of the women and children began to leave the arena. To her dismay, not one man left his place.
Finally, Lucius motioned to his tribune and spoke quickly. The tribune faced the arena and drew his sword. Claudia gasped at the ominous rasping sound of hundreds of Roman broadswords being drawn from their sheaths.
The Jewish leaders flung themselves on the ground and bared their necks. The rest of the Jews, men and women alike, fell to the ground and did the same. They began to sing one of their psalms.
Lucius stood dumbfounded. Claudia knew he couldn’t massacre hundreds of Jews in cold blood. Her poor, dear Lucius thought he could frighten them into turning and running back to Jerusalem. Yet as she watched, man after man knelt and bared his neck to die.
She waited in fear, bile rising in her throat. Oh Lucius. Don’t give the order. Such a slaughter would get back to Rome and how would he explain this to the emperor? She prayed silently for a solution.
Lucius stood stiffly, perspiration breaking out on his forehead. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he stared at the spectacle before him. Claudia held her breath, pleading silently to the gods. Please, Lucius, don’t do this!
Lucius finally spoke, his voice carrying over the crowd to his men. “Sheath your swords.”
He then addressed the crowd. “With clemency in the name of Tiberius Caesar, I bid you rise. My task is to govern with justice. I see that you are truly sincere in this matter, and while I was forced to put this to a drastic test, it is evident that the military standards are truly offensive to your people. You were not just testing my authority.”
Claudia, Wife of Pontius Pilate Page 11
