ELEAZAR

In the twenty-four hours since his conversation with the traitor Judah, the plan first cast by his father had taken its final shape. They would arrest Jesus while he and his disciples were in the garden at Gethsemane. It would be far more private than doing it in someone’s home, and they wouldn’t need to worry about neighbors who might spread word of the arrest.

While Eleazar was leading the arrest, his father and uncles would organize the great council. Because the Pharisaic families had refused their support, they were given only short notice of the meeting to prevent word from leaking either to the prophet himself or to others who would sabotage their plans. The priestly families who were loyal to Caiaphas had been committed to the plan from the beginning and were expecting the meeting. Annas himself had met privately with Caiaphas and had pledged his support. Thus, despite Pharisaic opposition, Caiaphas would have all the support he needed to convict Jesus. All who promised to find the prophet guilty also pledged to demand his execution from Pilate the following day. The governor would draw a significant crowd of protesters indeed.

Plans were also in place to spread the narrative of Jesus’ public trial throughout the city. Informants would witness the trial and then, in high-traffic areas of the city, report what had taken place. If all went well, Jesus would be executed by crucifixion the following morning. Given the early hour of the execution, the people’s preoccupation with festal preparations, and the narrative of Roman innocence in the matter, there was hope that the prophet’s death would not lead to a violent reprisal.

The afternoon passed slowly as Eleazar and the head of the temple guard went over the plan for arresting Jesus. While far less trained in combat than Roman soldiers, these guards were well armed and could surely hold their own against Jesus and his followers. Eleazar had chosen fifty guards to compose the arresting party; from what he had heard, only fifteen to twenty men would likely be accompanying the prophet. The plan was to divide the guard into two groups and surround Jesus and his followers from opposite sides. This should cut off any attempted escape. Eleazar made it clear that they must allow the prophet to surrender peacefully. “You will not initiate any assault against this man or his followers,” he said. “But make no mistake. Should they choose to resist, resistance will be met with steel!” Secretly, Eleazar hoped there would be resistance and a chance for greater glory.

As evening approached, Eleazar took a light supper and then met his men under the northern porticos of the Temple Mount. There they were to meet Judah, who would lead them to Jesus’ location in the Gethsemane garden on the Mount of Olives. After they had been waiting for some time, Judah arrived, looking nervous and agitated. “I left Jesus over an hour ago,” he told Eleazar. “The dinner should be over, and they should be in the garden.”

“Where have you been the last hour?” Eleazar asked suspiciously.

“I don’t see how that is your business,” snapped Judah, a response that surprised the present guards. “But if you must know, I was visiting my family. I gave them money and told them they might not see me for a while, but that all their needs would be met.” He gave Eleazar a cold and knowing stare. Eleazar nodded his head—those arrangements had already been set in motion.

Eleazar addressed the company. “It is time to depart. Remember, we approach by cover of darkness. No lamps or torches. The moonlight will be enough to guide us. We are counting on the element of surprise. When we are close enough, I will light a torch, which will be the signal for you to do the same. We will then surround the prophet and his followers and call for his peaceful surrender. If he does not surrender, we take him—but we take him alive.”

The leaders of the company nodded. There they divided the company, with one group exiting the north side of the city through the Antonia fortress and Eleazar leading another group through the southern exit of the Temple Mount. They avoided exiting from the Beautiful Gate, as they feared such an exit may be visible to any on the Mount of Olives. They would flank Jesus and his followers from the north and the south to prevent any escape.

Eleazar’s company made its way slowly in the darkness. The Gethsemane garden was at the foot of the mount. It was known for its many olive trees and large olive press that produced a great amount of oil for the region. Judah had told him that Jesus and his followers would be praying in the center of the garden, just north of the olive press. They entered the grove from the south, going quietly and slowly. As they approached the center, they heard voices. Judah waved them forward. As they inched closer, they saw an opening in the trees. In the opening there were about twenty men. Some were standing in prayer, but others appeared to be asleep. A small fire gave off a bit of light.

They drew closer and waited. Eleazar wanted to make sure the other company had time to reach the opposite line of trees from the north. After a short while, he lit his torch, which drew the attention of some of the men in the clearing. But it was also seen by the other company, who had successfully taken their position across from Eleazar. Quickly the flaming torches formed a circle and closed in around the men in the clearing.

There was panic among Jesus’ followers. One or two fled, escaping to the east where there was still a small opening. Others scrambled to grab weapons from their packs: swords, daggers, and even an ax. One man armed with a sword attacked a temple guard, striking a blow to the helmet. Disoriented, the guard fell to the ground, blood coming from his head. It appeared they would not be able to avoid a fight, and a surge of energy rushed through Eleazar’s body.

But then, out of the chaos, a loud voice yelled, “Enough! Put your weapons down!” The followers of Jesus recognized the voice of their master, though his words seemed to shock them. Slowly they lowered their weapons and moved toward him. He stepped forward and asked, “Who is leading this group?”

Eleazar stepped out of the tree line. “I, Eleazar son of Caiaphas the high priest, am leading them. I act with his authority. I am here to arrest Jesus the Galilean for the high crime of treason and disturbance of the peace of the city of Jerusalem.”

“I am the man you seek,” Jesus said. “I see you have brought a friend of mine. Judah, I had wondered what had kept you so long.” Sorrow marked these last words.

Judah stepped out from the others. His presence with the temple guard brought a look of horror and shock to the faces of his former friends.

Eleazar again spoke up. “Our purpose is a peaceful arrest, but should you resist you will be shown no mercy. You are outnumbered and outarmed.” It seemed clear to Eleazar that between the instruction of their master and the size of the force they faced, the fight had gone out of Jesus’ followers. He seized on this and said, “We are only interested in your master; the rest of you may leave and will not be followed.” At this they looked at each other and at their master, uncertain of what to do. In silence, one laid down his sword and walked quickly away from the group and past the guards. That was the first domino to fall. The others fell soon thereafter, each one moving hurriedly away once they passed the line of guards. In a matter of minutes, only the prophet remained.

“I will not resist you,” he said. “But I find it odd you come to arrest me at night, when I have been preaching openly each day in the temple.” He gave a subtle smile.

“Bind him!” Eleazar commanded, and two guards rushed forward to secure his hands with rope. “Take him to the home of the high priest. The council is gathering there.”

As they were departing, Eleazar saw no sign of Judah. At what point the traitor had disappeared, he did not know. He would never see the man again.

The return trip to the city and to Eleazar’s home was quick and uneventful. As they passed through the temple courtyard on the way, he dismissed much of the temple guard, taking only four with him.

When they reached the house of the high priest, they entered a large room where the council had gathered. Normally this gathering would have taken place on the Temple Mount in the Hall of Hewn Stones, but the late hour and the urgent nature of the meeting forced an alternate plan. The council was made up of seventy-one men, respected elders of the Jewish people—priests, leading Pharisees, and a number of scribes. The majority had come to the meeting. The room was crowded and buzzing with conversation and activity when Eleazar arrived. As planned, Jesus was to remain outside until Caiaphas could address the council. Eleazar caught his father’s eye and signaled that all had gone well—the council’s business could proceed. Caiaphas returned a knowing nod.

As his father moved slowly to the front of the room, a Pharisee named Nicodemus said loudly, “Caiaphas, what is the meaning of this meeting? Why have you called us here so late at night? And before the Passover? How long will you keep us in the dark?” After looking around the room he added, “Those of us who are actually in the dark!”

Caiaphas did not respond but signaled for calm. Slowly the din subsided and he spoke. “I know you are all wondering why you have been called here tonight.”

Well, at least a few of you, Eleazar thought.

“As many of you know, a great threat to the peace of our city has emerged this week. On Sunday a prophet rode into our city as a conquering king, to the chants and praises of our own people crying out for deliverance. That same day he challenged the authority and power of our sacred institution the temple and its honorable leadership. From that time on, he has daily spoken traitorous words in the temple courtyard, words that stir up the people and seek to incite them to violence. We all know that such violence would bring turmoil and destruction on the entire city. He also continues to denigrate God’s sacred temple and those who lead it. The leading priests and I have determined that this man is a significant threat to our city and that we must deal with him quickly, lest he sway the people to violent revolution.”

A Pharisee in the crowd yelled out, “A threat he may be, but isn’t this Pilate’s problem? What business do we have addressing this man’s guilt or innocence?”

“Your interruption is not appreciated, Nathaniel, but your question is relevant,” Caiaphas replied. “Pilate has decided that this man is no threat and has told me that he will not seek to arrest him.”

Annas stood up and interrupted. “Pardon me, my son.” Eleazar knew his father despised Annas calling him “son.” “But let me affirm for all of my brothers here that the word you speak is true. Pilate has told me this as well. His choice has revealed his cowardice, and thus it falls on us to protect this city from the violence that looms over us. We must deal with this troublesome prophet ourselves. Tonight, we are called to resolve and strength”—he turned to Caiaphas—“which you, Caiaphas, are showing us now!”

Caiaphas nodded respectfully to his father-in-law. “Thank you, Annas. You honor me, and your words regarding our governor are true indeed.” This necessary deference shown to his treacherous grandfather sickened Eleazar. “If Rome will not act, then we must! The safety of our city must be our greatest concern, and this Galilean prophet is a grave threat.”

Another interruption came from Joseph, son of Isaac, the Pharisee they had suspected of being a sympathizer of the prophet. “If he is such a danger to the city, Caiaphas, why have you waited until now to arrest this man? And why at night? He has been peacefully teaching each day in the temple courts, but you arrest him now, the eve of the great Passover feast. Such a meeting is highly unorthodox. I am inclined to question your motives.”

“You will have your opportunity to speak, Joseph, in the due process of our trial. All will be heard that desire to be heard,” said Caiaphas. “But as for the timing of these events, I assure you there is no hidden agenda or false motive in play. It was only recently that we learned that Pilate himself would do nothing in response to the threat this man posed, and therefore we have moved as quickly as we can to stop him. It was imperative that he be arrested before the feast.”

“I would call that convenient,” interrupted Joseph. These words brought a rumble from the group of Pharisees sitting behind him, which in turn led to a similar response from many of the priests. A division among the council was evident.

The presence of opposition to the arrest and trial of Jesus bothered Eleazar. He knew they would have enough votes to convict Jesus and bring him before Pilate, but the blindness of these Pharisees who saw something worth protecting in this man was disturbing.

Caiaphas quieted the room again and reiterated that all would have their chance to speak. He then brought out Jesus and read to him the charges of sedition and disturbance of the peace. To these charges the prophet said nothing. “Do you understand these accusations?” asked Caiaphas. Again, the prophet said nothing, but nodded his head.

Eleazar tried to read him. It was hard to put his finger on it. Jesus didn’t seem angry or frightened. He seemed . . . sad? Yes, that was it. Sad.

“We will now hear testimony against this man. No charge will be considered for a vote by the council unless supported by the testimony of two or more witnesses, pursuant to the divine mandate of our law.”

Several witnesses were brought forward. They testified to Jesus’ entry into the city and its seditious nature. “He clearly presented himself as a king,” one claimed. “He made no effort to quiet the people who were calling for him to bring salvation to our city,” said another. Many testified to Jesus’ demonstration in the temple courtyard, his turning over the tables of the money changers and his threat to those selling animals, though interpretations of the significance varied. Some saw it as an act of rebellion against Jerusalem’s leadership. Others saw it as symbolizing the destruction of the temple itself, which one person even claimed he had heard Jesus say was impending. Another claimed he heard Jesus say he would destroy the temple, though others contested this claim. Many testified to Jesus’ denigration of the temple’s leadership and his challenging of its authority, an authority established both by Rome and by God. These teachings were treasonous, and even blasphemous to some. Virtually to a man, the witnesses claimed that Jesus was an imminent threat to the city’s peace and that his actions revealed him as guilty of sedition.

After these witnesses had given their testimony, Caiaphas turned to Jesus and asked if he had anything to say in his defense to the charges. He simply shook his head, which brought a surprised reaction from the council members. Caiaphas then asked, “If the defendant will not speak on his own behalf, is there anyone here who would like to speak for him?”

The Pharisee Joseph, who had spoken at the outset of the meeting, rose and slowly made his way to the front of the room. A murmur began, but slowly died down as he stood looking around at his fellow council members. He then addressed them: “Members of this upstanding and long-established council, tonight we are asked to vote on the guilt or innocence of a prophet who is beloved by the people of this fine city. You have heard copious amounts of testimony supporting the charges of his guilt. I speak to his innocence. Of first order, I ask you all, what is this man truly guilty of? Does he speak of a coming kingdom of God? Oh, the shame! On this charge, you would have to arrest each and every Pharisee in this room and those living throughout our land, all of whom look with eager expectation for such a new divine kingdom to dawn in our midst. And we teach our people to look for the same! You Sadducees may reject this vision of our future as well as the prophets who cast such a vision, but we are able to live peaceably enough together. You do not hand us over to the Romans for sedition because of such hopes and teaching. And why not? Because we are deeply committed to nonviolence, and we reject any ideology of violent resistance against our Roman occupiers. I ask you, is this man truly any different? Has he taken up a sword? Has he instructed anyone to do so? I understand the fear that he could, but until this happens, has he truly committed a crime? I daresay he has not!

“And what of his critique of the temple and its leadership, which now fills the seats of this room? He has critiqued the lot of you, but he has said no worse than some of you have said about each other!” He looked slowly from Caiaphas to Annas.

“If the truth be told, some of us Pharisees may have said an unkind word or two about you leading Sadducees from time to time. I don’t doubt you have also returned the favor. But are such words, such critiques, truly crimes? If so, then bind your own hands and step forward for the same punishment. It is true that some of you see this man as a threat. And, to be quite honest, I am stunned that our governor does not. But threat or no threat, I see no grounds for this council to convict this man. If Rome finds him guilty, so be it.”

A shout came from the audience: “What of this man’s entry into the city as a conquering king? That is an act of sedition if ever there was one! You can’t deny that, Joseph!”

The Pharisee looked in the direction of the accuser. “I believe the floor is mine until I give it up, Jonathan. But I will speak to this charge by simply asking, are we to condemn a man for his popularity with the people? Can anyone control the masses? Sedition requires more than popularity and palm branches.”

It was a weak defense, and it seemed Joseph himself knew it. Although the crowd listened to his earlier remarks, this last statement brought derision. In the face of such a response, Joseph returned to his seat.

Caiaphas again stepped to the front of the room. “Is there anyone else who would speak on this man’s behalf?” When it became clear that no one else would come forward, Caiaphas said, “If no one else wishes to speak, as is our custom, we will take an open vote on this man’s guilt. All who find this man innocent of the crimes of sedition and disturbance of the peace, raise your hands.”

As expected, the Pharisees followed the lead of Joseph and raised their hands. But when Caiaphas called for the guilty votes, almost fifty hands went in the air, sealing the prophet’s fate. Caiaphas faced Jesus and told him that he had been found guilty of the charges brought against him. Again, he asked Jesus if he had any words for the council. Again, he remained silent.

Caiaphas then addressed the council. “You have found this man guilty of crimes punishable by death, though you yourselves know that we do not have the authority of life and death. We will present this man to Pilate and ask him to honor the will of the council.”

At these words, Joseph and his supporters got up and walked out in protest. Caiaphas continued without acknowledging their departure. “It is late, and we should all go home and get some sleep. But I ask you all to meet me at Herod’s palace early in the morning. If Pilate stays his current course, he may be resistant to our request. The more members of the council there are, together with those who support its wishes, the more likely we are to persuade our governor.” These words brought many verbal affirmations.

The members of the council then departed, and the temple guards took Jesus to a private room in the house. There was a bed where he could sleep if he desired, though he remained bound with guards at his door.

Exhausted after the events of the day, Eleazar went to bed. The next day would surely be another long one.

CALEB

Caleb awoke before dawn after a much-needed night’s rest. Today was sure to prove eventful. He had been instructed to go to the open courtyard outside the governor’s palace where Pilate administered judicial business. He was told to observe the events that occurred and spread word of those events in a variety of different places in the city. Whatever was going to happen, the ranking priests of Jerusalem wanted it to be known to the masses.

Caleb hurriedly ate a quick breakfast of bread and dry fish before departing for the palace. Built by Herod the Great, the palace was located in the northwest corner of the city. Its western wall was also the outer wall of the city, and three large towers adorned the northern wall. These towers were exquisitely designed, made of white marble and surrounded by white marble columns on the upper third of the towers. They stood well over a hundred feet tall. Herod had named one after his brother, another after a friend, and the third, the shortest of the three, after his wife Mariamne, a woman he dearly loved but ultimately had executed for suspicion of treason. Caleb had never been inside the palace, nor had anyone he knew. But the descriptions of the palace’s inner beauty—its grand banquet halls, gardens, fountains, endless porticoes, grand courtyards, and lavishly decorated bedrooms—were reported throughout the city.

He arrived at first light of day, but it was dark enough that the torches in the courtyard were still lit. A crowd was already gathering. A significant number of priests near the main entrance of the palace had drawn spectators, no doubt curious as to why priests would be outside the governor’s dwelling so early in the morning. The courtyard was surrounded by porticoes with large columns, and Caleb made his way forward along the northernmost portico. He wanted to see and hear what was happening, but he also wanted to remain out of the way, so he stayed near the columns. As he stood there, more and more priests joined the group already present.

As he was observing the priests, Caleb heard a commotion behind him. He turned to look and saw the high priest, Caiaphas, leading a procession that included his brothers and other ranking priests. Behind them were at least fifteen temple guards surrounding a man bound in shackles. It was the prophet Jesus! They were clearly bringing him to the governor for trial, but why were there so many priests? And why was Caleb being asked to observe this spectacle and to tell others about it? These things made no sense at all.

As the procession approached the palace entry, the assembled crowd of priests parted to make way. Shortly after, a Roman soldier came through the entrance and spoke with Caiaphas. After a moment, the soldier departed. For a good ten minutes or more nothing happened in the courtyard, but more and more people gathered around the porticoes to observe whatever was about to unfold.

Then the Roman governor himself appeared at the top of the stairway up to the palace entrance. At the base of the stairs stood the crowd of priests and the prisoner, Jesus. Four Roman soldiers were behind the governor. One brought out a chair, a judicial seat from which the governor would hand out legal verdicts—though Pilate did not sit in the chair.

The governor addressed the crowd in a voice that all in the courtyard could easily hear. “For what privilege do I owe a visit from Jerusalem’s leading priests? It seems quite early to be conducting any official business—and on the day of a great feast, no less! What is so important that you find the need to disturb me on such a beautiful and peaceful morning?”

“We have an urgent matter that you must deal with immediately, Governor,” Caiaphas replied. “Jesus the Galilean, who has long been regarded as a prophet by our people, now poses a great risk to our city. He presents himself as a conquering king, promotes the replacement of Roman rule with a new kingdom, and defames our temple, its leadership, and the powers that endorse it—your power, Governor. Our great council has conducted a formal trial, and it has found this man guilty of sedition and disturbance of the peace of our city. We feel these crimes are capital in nature, and you alone can pronounce a sentence of capital punishment. It is this sentence we ask of you this morning.”

“These are indeed serious charges,” said Pilate. “And if true, punishment must be enforced. But I am surprised at the number who have come to me this morning. Are so many necessary?”

“Our numbers demonstrate the seriousness and sincerity of our commitment to eliminate this threat to the peace of our city—a threat to the peace of Rome! We come in number so as to be heard.”

“Very well,” said Pilate. “I will interrogate this man myself and determine his guilt or innocence. Bring the prisoner forward!” Jesus was led up to Pilate, who looked him up and down and escorted him into the palace.

Caleb figured this process would not take long. From what he had witnessed of Jesus, he was surely guilty of the crimes the high priest had charged him with. No doubt the Roman governor would be extremely sensitive to such activity. Jesus would likely be crucified that very morning.

The thought made him both sad and frightened. He had grown fond of the prophet; something about him just drew Caleb to him. Maybe the prophet reminded him of his own father in some way. But he was also afraid: the execution of this prophet seemed dangerous. The people loved him. The chance of violent retribution seemed high.

PILATE

Pilate led the guards and his prisoner through the main entrance of the palace grounds into another open courtyard that surrounded the palace proper. They walked through a garden and then into a small room. Both Pilate and Jesus entered while the guards remained outside the door. There was a small desk with a chair behind it, both of which were facing a larger window that looked out to the garden they had just passed through. There were also chairs opposite the desk, and Pilate motioned for Jesus to sit.

Pilate had known for some time this moment was coming, and he had been ruminating over the best way to handle it. Did he play coy with Jesus, or did he tell him the truth? He wanted to tell him the truth. He wanted to mock his plans for unsettling the city. He wanted to tell him he had been one step ahead of him the entire time. After all, who could Jesus tell? But Pilate told himself that discretion was the right path. Hubris only opened the door to disaster. He would play coy.

“These are serious charges brought against you,” Pilate said. “Are they true? Are you indeed the king of the Jews?” The prophet remained silent, which slightly irritated Pilate.

“You have nothing to say regarding the charges?” he asked. “Do you deny them?” Still nothing. Pilate’s irritation grew. To Pilate, the silence communicated nothing but arrogance. Even in the face of death, he plays the king who is in control.

“Why do you not defend yourself?” he asked. “You realize you are facing death?”

At this, the prophet nodded. “Well, there is some reaction,” Pilate said, annoyed. “Do you not care if you die?” The man only looked back at Pilate.

“You know I have the power to save you?” A slight smile crossed the man’s face. The smile further irritated Pilate. “Do you find that amusing?”

Finally, the man spoke. In a quiet voice he said, “My life will not be spared today by your power. You know this as well as I do.” Pilate felt a surge of anger. Was he indicating he was somehow in the know or that he was in control? Pilate took a moment to push back his anger before he spoke again.

“Why do you say this? Do you not believe you will receive a fair hearing? Roman justice is fair.”

“Sometimes as fair as it is opaque,” the man said.

“What are you hinting at? Is there something you wish to say?” Nothing but silence and a knowing look.

With that, the dam broke—there would be no holding back the anger now. Pilate decided to forge ahead with brutal honesty.

“You are quite right!” he said venomously. “You will certainly die today!” Speaking those words might not have been wise, but it gave Pilate deep satisfaction. He went on, “And it will indeed be justice. You and I both know that every charge brought against you is true. You come into my city and present yourself as a conquering king? You are a joke!” Pilate sneered. “A peasant with peasant followers who thinks he will soon rule the world! I have killed your kind before, and I will do so again today!”

The man looked at Pilate blankly. If these words had frightened him at all, he gave no indication. This made Pilate even angrier. “You smug charlatan! You will not only die but you will also feel great pain today. As you feel it, know your arrogance was the cause!” In that moment, Pilate decided to add an additional touch to his punishment of this man Jesus.

“Guards!” he called. “I am ready to return to the priest with my verdict.” They opened the door, roughly grabbed Jesus, and lifted him to his feet. Pilate led them back the way they had come to the palace entrance. As he went, he composed himself. The show had to go on, and it had to be persuasive.

CALEB

Caleb was talking with another onlooker when he heard a commotion coming from the crowd of priests. The governor had returned with the prophet Jesus. From the entrance to the palace, he addressed the crowd: “Respected priests of Israel, I have questioned this man thoroughly. I have also questioned my own witnesses, including soldiers who vigilantly watch the happenings in this city. As a result of this process, I find no basis to convict this man of a capital crime or to sentence him to death as you request.”

These words shocked Caleb. Innocent!? He felt relief, but also confusion. Surely, from a Roman perspective, this man was a threat. How could Pilate find him innocent?

The governor’s declaration immediately brought loud protests from the priests. Many of the other onlookers seemed relieved, but apparently intimidated by the priests, they stayed silent.

Pilate raised his hands to calm the crowd, and the angry din slowly died down. “I understand your disappointment,” he said, “but Roman justice must be served. I find no fault with this man, no reason to believe he is leading a rebellion. Perhaps I can still appease you, and we can find some common ground. His rampant talk of a new kingdom is troubling indeed. But if all were killed for such talk, there would no doubt be few Jews remaining! Yet to discourage this talk and the hope it breeds, and to reward your diligence in keeping the peace of the city, I will have this man whipped with the scourge and then released.”

Again, the crowd of priests expressed their disapproval. Pilate raised his hands. “This is my decision.”

Caleb’s heart sank. Scourging was a horrific act, and a difficult one to watch. The victim was not whipped with an ordinary whip but with the Roman flagrum. It had a short, thick handle with three or four long lashes attached to it. At the end of the lashes were small lead balls or pieces of bone. These broke open the skin on the first lashing or soon thereafter. It was a gruesome sight, and depending on the number of lashes given, could be fatal in itself.

The Roman soldiers took Jesus to a stone column and bound his hands to it. They bared his back and shoulders. He was slightly bent over, his back facing the Roman soldier who would deliver the scourging. A young slave brought out the flagrum, and the whipping commenced.

Most of the onlookers turned away from the scene, but Caleb, along with the crowd of priests, did not. It appeared that the soldier delivering the blows—the lictor, as he was called—was not as aggressive as he could have been. The first couple of lashes brought loud moans from the victim. The skin broke on the third lash, followed by cries of intense pain. With each lash the lacerations grew deeper and the cries grew louder. It was difficult to watch, but Caleb did not look away.

After the tenth lash, Pilate called for the lictor to halt. Though these ten blows had inflicted significant pain on the prophet, stopping at ten was a sign of mercy. This surprised Caleb, but it was consistent with Pilate’s claim that he found no reason for executing this man. Had he found him guilty, the penalty would have been crucifixion, and the scourging prior to crucifixion was far more thorough and brutal than what Caleb had just witnessed.

Jesus’ garments were placed back over his shoulders, and he was brought back before the crowd of priests. “Surely this punishment is enough to satisfy you,” said Pilate. “A man innocent of the charges you brought should endure no more than this.” The crowd erupted in jeers, boos, and insults. Their response was clearly escalating, and their anger toward the reluctant governor was growing.

Pilate raised his hands to calm the crowd. “I can see this has not satisfied you,” Pilate said, seemingly frustrated. “Very well. I will again question this man, consult with my advisors, and reconsider my verdict.” This decision clearly pleased the crowd of priests, but for Caleb and the other onlookers it brought the all-too-familiar feeling of dwindling hope.

PILATE

After announcing that he would reconsider his decision, Pilate led the soldiers and his prisoner back into the palace. He had not originally intended to have Jesus scourged, but the prophet’s smugness had forced him to do it. It had taken great restraint to stop at ten lashes. Pilate would have loved to have given the man twenty more, but selling his belief in this man’s innocence was paramount. He could not let anger jeopardize the plan. Perhaps now Jesus’ demeanor would be less self-assured; the flagrum had a way of humbling all men.

There was little more to do now than wait. There would be no meeting with advisors, no more interrogation. The die was cast. The man would be crucified. But Pilate must play this ruse out fully.

The guards took Jesus to a bench in the courtyard where they sat him down. Here Pilate approached him. The smug look had disappeared; only pain remained. Indeed, the whip had broken him. He was breathing heavily and moaning. The pain brought tears he could not hold back and wincing he could not hide. “Did my verdict surprise you?” Pilate asked condescendingly. The man said nothing.

“No need to waste your energy in replying. Save your strength. I already know the answer.” Still no response.

Pilate decided to put all his cards on the table. What harm could it do? “I have known what you wanted all along,” he said. “You have been trying to force my hand. You wanted me to arrest you from the time you first entered the city. I am sure you were surprised when nothing happened. We are not fools. We know the danger of the masses better than you can imagine. Did you think we would rush in to stop the dangerous prophet only to set the city ablaze with anger? Even this morning you hoped that your arrest and execution at Roman hands would ignite the people to revolt. I am here to tell you that will not happen. Rome will not find you guilty. Rome will not be the focus of the people’s ire. It will be their own leaders, their priests, who will execute you. And that will act as a flood against the fire of rebellion you sought to start. You will die, and your life will be meaningless. Nothing you set out to accomplish will come to pass.”

Finally saying these words was deeply satisfying. Yet still the prophet said nothing.

“Rest here,” Pilate said. “You will need your strength.” Pilate turned and began walking away. But as he did, he heard Jesus mumble something.

He turned back. “What? Do you finally have something to say? Speak up. I certainly want to hear it,” Pilate mocked. He leaned in close and the spoke again.

In a voice that was clearly trying to draw all the strength it could, the prophet said, “Nothing that happens here today will surprise me. And all that will happen is what ought to happen.”

Uncontrollable anger surged through Pilate, and he struck Jesus with a closed fist hard across the face. Pain instantly filled his hand, but it also stung the prophet, who fell to the ground. He found satisfaction in striking him, but it did not quench his anger.

He walked away to gather himself. He would need his composure for the second act.

CALEB

It had been almost half an hour since Pilate had left to reconsider his verdict. The crowd of onlookers had grown, though some had already left. Caleb thought they had likely gone to tell others of the morning’s events. Finally, Pilate returned, and the guards had Jesus with them. Blood had soaked through his garments, and he looked weak. His face was full of pain. It appeared there was another man held by the guards as well, but Pilate and Jesus obstructed Caleb’s view of the man.

Pilate addressed the crowd of priests that had now regrouped upon the governor’s appearance. “Esteemed priests and leaders of Jerusalem, my further interrogation of this man has only strengthened my resolve that he is indeed innocent.” A wave of relief washed over Caleb; he had believed a change of the governor’s heart was a certainty.

“I find no reason to condemn this man to death, not when others are more deserving. But I see you are committed to the cause of peace today, and that you seek to make a statement against the disruption of that peace. I fully support this notion, and as such I offer you a choice. Would you rather execute this prophet, who it seems clear to me has no intention of committing violence, or a man who has confessed to participating in violence against the Roman soldiers who keep the peace in this city? I am willing to release one and execute the other.”

While he was introducing the second man, he stepped aside to reveal him to the crowd. Caleb gave an involuntary gasp. The man was his childhood friend Samuel, who was arrested because of information Caleb had given. His shock was almost instantly replaced with crippling guilt. Samuel looked gaunt, his face pale, and his eyes sunken. He bore bruises that evinced his barbaric treatment in a Roman prison. Caleb’s guilt was then accompanied by both hope and anguish. Samuel had a chance to be freed . . . or crucified.

Caleb didn’t have to wait long for these conflicting emotions to resolve. The moment Pilate finished his words, the priests erupted in calls to free Samuel and crucify the prophet Jesus! This outburst led to the governor raising his hands in a gesture that seemed to communicate both confusion and frustration. The call for Jesus’ execution only grew louder.

Pilate motioned for the priests to quiet down. When they did, he said, “It seems clear to me that you will not be satisfied until you are granted this man’s blood. But I in good conscience cannot condemn him to death, as I do not find him guilty of the charges you have brought against him. As you know, Rome grants autonomy to local ruling bodies as much as possible, while still maintaining the peace. It also is committed to justice. I am vexed as to what to do at this crossroads.” Pilate’s face looked pained. It seemed for him a difficult decision.

In what seemed like almost a minute of silence, he surveyed the crowd of priests and the onlookers gathered around the porticoes beyond them. He finally said, “Because I do not find grounds for charging this man, I will not find him guilty. I cannot. I wash my hands of his fate. But to honor this esteemed body of priests who have led this city with wisdom and honor, I will grant them my power over capital crimes. Do as you see fit with this man. Caiaphas, I grant you the power to crucify, if you see fit.”

With these words, Pilate gave instructions to one of the Roman soldiers and then disappeared into his palace.

The morning’s events left Caleb’s head spinning. Pilate found Jesus innocent? Despite this verdict, leading priests would crucify Jesus anyway? Pilate released Samuel, a known insurrectionist? In his wildest dreams Caleb could not have predicted such an outcome! Looking around, he saw many people running out of the courtyard and suddenly remembered his assigned task: observe and spread the word.

He had quite a story to tell. Would anyone believe it?