The less literate among the pilgrims are waiting for a verbal pronouncement from Jesus. The more enlightened don’t need to hear the words; they are simply waiting for the moment when Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a donkey. Then and only then will they be sure that he is the one true Christ.
“See your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation,” the prophet Zechariah predicted five hundred years ago, “gentle and riding on a donkey.”
* * *
Each and every member of the Sanhedrin knows the words of Zechariah. Months have passed since the end of the Feast of Tabernacles, and they gather now, seventy-one religious authorities strong, in a special meeting chamber known as the Hall of Hewn Stones. Opulent and regal, the place of legal judgment rests near the north wall of the Temple Mount. Half of it is inside the sanctuary and half outside. Doors lead into the room from either direction. As its name suggests, iron implements were used in its construction, making the hall unsuitable for ritual worship.7
The Sanhedrin is the ultimate Jewish religious court, a body of men even more powerful than the tetrarch Antipas. And within this chamber, Caiaphas holds the ultimate authority.
Pontius Pilate is now safely back at his seaside palace in Caesarea,8 destined not to return to Jerusalem until April and the Passover celebration. Jesus is reported to have left Galilee, destined for parts unknown. Witnesses say he is performing miracles once again. In one startling account out of the town of Bethany, a man named Lazarus came back from the dead. And Lazarus was not recently deceased. He was four days dead and already laid in the tomb when Jesus is said to have healed him before a great crowd.
Lazarus’s body already reeked of decomposition when Jesus ordered that the stone covering the tomb entrance be rolled away. This was not just an act of healing but a display of powers far beyond those of a normal human being.
“Here is this man performing many miraculous signs,” a Pharisee says. “If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and then the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation.”
Caiaphas agrees. “You do not realize that it is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish.”
Nothing more needs to be said.
* * *
Whether knowingly or unknowingly, Jesus has led a life that is a continual fulfillment of Jewish prophecy. He was born a Jew. His lineage is that of David. A great star rose in the morning sky as he was being born in Bethlehem. It could be argued that as he grew and learned Scripture, he intentionally began contriving his actions and words to mimic the prophets’ predictions. And now comes the ultimate symbol: if Jesus chooses to ride into Jerusalem at Passover astride a donkey, he will be sending a powerful message. As the prophet Zechariah wrote, “Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion! Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. He will proclaim peace to the nations. His rule will extend from sea to sea and from the River to the ends of the earth.”
Fulfilling Zechariah’s prediction would be easy. Donkeys are everywhere in Judea. Jesus would simply have to tell a disciple to bring one to him.
At the age of thirty-six, Jesus is clever enough to act out any prophecy. His understanding of faith is profound and his knowledge of Scripture encyclopedic.
But Jesus would be a fool to ride a donkey into Jerusalem. That would be a death sentence. For while the prophets have been very specific about the way the king of the Jews would be born and live his life, they are just as clear about how he will die.
He will be falsely accused of crimes he did not commit.
He will be beaten.
He will be spat upon.
He will be stripped, and soldiers will throw dice to bid for his clothing.
He will be crucified, with nails driven through his hands and feet—yet not a single one of his bones will be broken.
And those who love him will look on in mourning, unable to do anything to stop the agony.9
* * *
It is Sunday, April 2, A.D. 30. Pontius Pilate has just returned to Jerusalem and taken up residence in Herod the Great’s palace. Herod Antipas, the tetrarch, arrives in the city and stays just a block away, at the Hasmonean Palace. At the same time, Caiaphas prepares for the biggest festival of the year at his palace home in the Upper City.
Passover week is now about to begin.
The disciples begin the search for a donkey.
Jesus of Nazareth has six days to live.
BOOK
III
If You Are the Son of God, Take Yourself off This Cross
CHAPTER TWELVE
OUTSIDE JERUSALEM
SUNDAY, APRIL 2, A.D. 30
AFTERNOON
The dusty dirt road from Galilee is once again clogged with Passover pilgrims eager to enter the walls of Jerusalem and put their journey behind them. The day is sunny, as it is so often this time of year. The travelers push past date palm plantations and the former winter palaces of Herod the Great in the lush oasis of Jericho. Small farming villages soon follow, where fruit orchards, vineyards, and olive trees grow alongside irrigated fields of vegetables. Many of the travelers stop here for their ritual mikvah, purifying themselves for the final three miles of the journey.
The purification process is vital to properly celebrating Passover. It creates a physical and emotional state of mind that prepares a worshipper to embrace God’s holiness—thus the need to arrive in Jerusalem almost a week before the holy day. Men will immerse in the mikvah, then cease having sex with their wives until after Passover, believing the act of ejaculation makes the body impure. Similarly, menstruating women will be unable to immerse in the mikvah and will also be forbidden from entering the Temple grounds. Touching a reptile also makes a body impure,1 and anyone coming in contact with a dead body or even having their shadow touch a dead body is immediately rendered impure and unable to celebrate Passover. This, of course, also applies to anyone who kills a person.
So even before the pilgrims see Jerusalem, they are mentally preparing for the week to come. They think of the need for a mikvah and they refrain from any intimate contact that might stir physical longings. Anticipating the smell of roast lamb that will hang over Jerusalem as the Passover feasts are being cooked in ovens, the pilgrims count their money, worrying about how they will pay for that feast and the inevitable taxes they will incur in the city. Despite their sore feet and aching legs from walking mile after rugged mile through the wilderness, the travelers feel themselves transformed by the magnetic pull of Jerusalem. Their thoughts are no longer set on their farms back home and the barley crop that must be harvested immediately upon their return, but on holiness and purity.
Soon they will ascend the hill known as the Mount of Olives and look down upon the heart-stopping sight of Jerusalem in all its glory. The Temple will gleam white and gold, and the mighty walls of the Temple Mount will astound them, as always. The sheer magnificence of the Temple will remind them that they have arrived at the center of Jewish life.
It has been nearly fifty years since the Temple was refurbished and expanded and the first modern Passover celebrated within its courts. But even for those old enough to have been there that day, this Passover promises to be the most memorable in history. And today’s arrival in Jerusalem will be unlike any before—or to come.
* * *
“We are going up to Jerusalem,” Jesus tells his disciples as they prepare to depart for the Passover. “The Son of Man will be betrayed to the chief priests and the teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death and will turn him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified. On the third day he will be raised to life.”
But if those words disturb the disciples, they don’t show it. For theirs has been a journey of many months, rather than the mere days of most pilgrims. After the Feast of Tabernacles six months ago, Jesus and the disciples did not return to Galilee. Inst
ead, they began a roundabout trip. First stop, the village of Ephraim, only fifteen miles north of Jerusalem. From there they traveled as a group due north and away from Jerusalem, to the border of Samaria and Galilee. And then, when it came time for Passover, they turned in the opposite direction and marched due south along the Jordan River, joining the long caravans of pilgrims en route to the Holy City.
The disciples now jockey for position during the walk to Jerusalem. James and John ask the Nazarene if they can be his principal assistants in the new regime, requesting that “one of us sit on your right and the other on your left in your glory.” Upon hearing this, the other ten are furious. They have followed Jesus as a collective group for more than two years, giving up their jobs and wives and whatever semblance of a normal life they might have once had. All the disciples hope they will reap the glory that will come after the new Messiah overthrows the Romans. Peter is so sure that Jesus is going to use military might that he is making plans to purchase a sword.
But Jesus has no plans to wage war and no plans to form a new government. Rather than upbraid James and John, he calmly deflects their request. He then calls the disciples together, imploring them to focus on serving others rather than fighting for position. “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many,” he tells them.
Once again, Jesus is predicting his death. And yet the disciples are so focused on the glorious moment when Jesus will reveal that he is the Christ that they ignore the fact that he is telling them he will soon die. There will be no overthrow of the Romans. There will be no new government.
But the disciples’ willful ignorance is understandable. Jesus often speaks in parables, and the mania surrounding the Nazarene is now phenomenal. The adoration being bestowed upon Jesus makes any talk of death incomprehensible. The thick crowds of pilgrims treat Jesus like royalty, hanging on his every word and greeting him with enthusiastic awe. In the village of Jericho, two blind men call out to Jesus, referring to him as “Lord, Son of David,” a designation that could be applied only to the Christ. The disciples are encouraged when Jesus does nothing to rebuke the blind men.
Jerusalem is just a forty-minute walk from the village of Bethany, where they stop for the night. They stay at the home of Lazarus and his sisters Mary and Martha, rather than risk traveling after sundown and on the start of the Sabbath. This will be their base throughout Passover week, and Jesus and the disciples plan to return here most nights for the promise of a hot meal and easy rest.
The Sabbath is the holiest day of the week. The Jews call it Shabbat, but the Romans name it for the planet Saturn.2 It is a day of mandatory rest in the Jewish religion, commemorating God’s rest after creating the universe. Jesus and the apostles spend that time quietly, preparing for the week to come.
The next morning, Jesus selects two disciples and gives them a most special task. “Go to the village ahead of you,” he orders them, “and at once you will find a donkey tied there, with her colt by her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, tell him that the Lord needs them, and he will send them right away.”
Then Jesus and the other ten disciples set out. Knowing that they will return to Lazarus’s home this evening, they travel light, with no need for the satchel of supplies or the walking sticks most pilgrims carry.
Crowds of pilgrims press in around Jesus as he walks. Their voices carry the familiar drawl of their regions. The pilgrims are excited that their journey is almost over, and many are rejoicing that the famous Jesus of Nazareth is in their presence.
Just on the other side of Bethpage, the two disciples stand waiting. One holds the bridle of a donkey that has never been ridden. The animal is bareback. A disciple removes his square cloak and lays it across the animal’s back as an improvised saddle. The other disciples remove their cloaks and lay them on the ground in an act of submission, forming a carpet on which the donkey can walk. Following this example, many of the pilgrims remove their own cloaks and lay them on the ground. Others gather palm fronds or snap branches off olive and cypress trees and wave them with delight.
This is the sign everyone has been waiting for. This is the fulfillment of Zechariah’s prophecy.
“Blessed is the king!” shouts a disciple.
The people join in, exalting Jesus and crying out to him. “Hosanna,” they chant. “Hosanna in the highest.”
Jesus rides forth on the donkey, and the people bow down.
“O Lord, save us,” they implore, thankful that the Christ has finally come to rescue them. “O Lord, grant us success. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” The words of thanksgiving are from Psalm 118, a psalm sung at Passover. This is the moment for which these simple peasants have waited so long. Of all the thousands of pilgrims who set out from Galilee, these are the lucky few who can tell their children and their children’s children that they witnessed the grand moment when Jesus the Christ rode triumphantly into Jerusalem.
But not everyone bows down. A group of Pharisees has been waiting for Jesus and now look on with disgust. They call out to him, giving the Nazarene one last chance to avoid a charge of blasphemy. “Teacher,” they yell, “rebuke your disciples!”
But Jesus refuses. “I tell you,” he informs the Pharisees, “if they keep quiet, even the stones will cry out.”
Others who have heard that Jesus is near have run out from Jerusalem, spreading palm branches across the path of the Nazarene. This is a traditional sign of triumph and glory.
The donkey stops atop the Mount of Olives. Jesus takes it all in. Tents cover the hillside, for this is where the poor Galileans camp during Passover. Jerusalem calls out to Jesus from just across the small Kidron Valley, and the Temple gleams in the midday sun. Throngs of pilgrims line the path winding down into the valley. The mud-and-limestone trail is remarkably steep, and Jesus will have to use great caution to guide the donkey downhill without getting thrown.
This is his day. Jesus’s whole life has pointed to this moment, when he will ride forth to stake his claim to the title “king of the Jews.”
Suddenly Jesus begins to weep. Perhaps it’s the thought of spending a last week with his good friends Lazarus, Mary, and Martha. Maybe he foresees the eventual destruction of this great city. Or perhaps he looks on Jerusalem knowing that his own pageantry will be short-lived. For the Nazarene has powerful enemies within the city walls.
For the past three years, Jesus has been adored, but he has also been subject to attack and suspicion. Even his disciples, despite their deep belief in Jesus and his teachings, sometimes care more about jockeying for power than about understanding his true nature and his message for the world.
He has been very specific with the disciples that he is more than just an earthly Christ.
They don’t understand.
He has told them again and again that he is a divine being, the Son of God.
They cannot comprehend that concept.
Jesus has made it clear that he is the Christ but that his kingdom is not of this world.
They don’t understand what he’s talking about.
Three times, Jesus has told his disciples that he will die this week.
But his followers refuse even to contemplate that.
Most frustrating of all is the fear that his disciples cannot understand the true message of Jesus. These men know him better than any other. They have walked countless miles at his side, listened to his teaching for hours on end, and sat with him in quiet reverence to pray. Yet the disciples still do not understand who he truly claims to be.
* * *
In his moment of triumph, Jesus is experiencing agony. He has long strategized about the words he will say at Passover and the effect they will have on his followers, both old and new. He knows that his claims of being a king will lead to his crucifixion. He will be sacrificed, just as surely as those countless Passover lambs. It is just a matter of when.
The Nazarene stares down at t
he path coursing through the olive trees. In the distance, he sees the garden at Gethsemane and then the flat depression of the narrow Kidron Valley. Looking across the valley, he sees this same well-trod path rising up to Jerusalem’s city walls. The city gates are clearly visible, as are the Roman soldiers who man the entrances. Jesus sees the people rushing out to worship him, eagerly ripping palm branches off nearby trees and waving them. The green flutter of respect impresses Jesus, for it is a reminder that many believe he is the anointed one—Moses and David in the flesh, come to save them and lead them out of bondage.
But Jesus knows that while Moses and David are remembered for their great achievements, they were also cast out by society. Jesus is not a prince like Moses or a warrior like David. He is an intellectual. He deals in logic. The book of Deuteronomy predicted: “The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your fellow Israelites. You must listen to him.”
But that prophecy is dangerous. To claim he is the Son of God would make Jesus one of three things: a lunatic, a liar, or a divinity who fulfills Scripture. Few in the crowd believe that Jesus is deranged or a charlatan. But will they make that incredible leap to believe that Jesus is God in the flesh?
* * *
Time to go. As the hosannas rain down on all sides, and the Pharisees look on from a place nearby with their usual veiled contempt, Jesus coaxes the donkey forward. Step by careful step, the two descend the Mount of Olives, cross the Kidron Valley, and travel through a tunnel of worshippers, with Jesus riding majestically up the hill and into the great and golden city of Jerusalem.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JERUSALEM
Killing Jesus: A History Page 13
