Killing a Messiah

by Adam Winn

  Apart from an outbreak of violence, this news was indeed as bad as Eleazar could imagine. His mind was racing. How would Pilate respond to this? Did he already know? Was he already preparing a violent response? He would have to get this news to his father, and quickly.

  “Where is the prophet now, Malachi?”

  “I don’t know sir,” Malachi replied. “I left the gate before he even entered the city, but I am sure he has entered by now. He may be in the temple courtyard, or he may have gone into the city itself.”

  Eleazar realized that there was no time to lose; he must inform his father of this news immediately. “Go quickly and take this news to my father! He is at his home. Do it now, and don’t let anything delay you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, of course, sir!” Malachi replied.

  He turned to leave, then turned back when Eleazar called his name. “You have done well to bring this to me immediately Malachi. I will not forget it.”

  The Levite gave a nervous smile. “Yes, sir, thank you, sir.” He ran to tell Caiaphas.

  Eleazar quickly left his private chambers and made his way out of the temple proper to the courtyard of the Gentiles. If the prophet was still here, he wanted to witness him with his own eyes and see what he was doing. As he exited the south side of the temple, he heard a great commotion and a roar of cheers. The source of the noise was a large crowd to his left, maybe fifty feet away. He moved in that direction, staying close to the dividing wall between the temple and the outer courtyard. Although he wanted to see what was happening, he did not want to draw attention to himself.

  He saw a stirring in the middle of the crowd. Men were shouting, “Make room! Move back!” Slowly the people responded and the crowd began to part. Then from the crowd a man emerged, and Eleazar recognized him as the man he had seen a year or two before, teaching a small group of people near the pools of Bethesda—it was the prophet Jesus. He was of average height, about that of Eleazar himself. He had on the simple garments of a peasant. His hair was dark and curly, and he had a dark unkempt beard. He was altogether quite plain looking, with nothing in his physical appearance that seemed impressive or would set him apart from any other man in the crowd. How could such a simple-looking man be such a threat to the peace of this great city? Eleazar thought.

  Jesus walked through the crowd into an open area in the courtyard. He appeared to be surveying the money changers, those selling animals, and those selling souvenirs. It seemed all eyes in the courtyard were upon him. Would he do something? Say something?

  Suddenly he moved to the tables where people were exchanging Roman or Greek coins for Jewish or Tyrian coins. The people in line waiting to make their exchange watched Jesus closely, as did the money changers themselves. In one quick movement, he grabbed one of the tables and violently turned it over. Papers and coins went flying! All stared at the prophet in stunned silence, mouths gaping open. Without a moment’s hesitation, he turned to his right and flipped over another table.

  Eleazar noticed that the local temple guards had gathered nearby and were looking at the scene in shock, not knowing what to do. He hoped they would have the wisdom to do nothing, as any sort of resistance toward the prophet at this point could easily turn this excited crowd into an angry mob. Jesus then turned in the direction of those selling animals. Seeing what had just happened, men stepped in front of their booths to protect them. Jesus stopped in front of them and did not move for what felt like an eternity but was no more than a minute. The crowd stared in stunned silence.

  Then Jesus stepped back into the middle of the courtyard, looked around at everyone, and said loudly, “The leadership of this most holy place has failed us and the God they claim to serve!”

  He paused as murmurs spread through the crowd, then continued. “Pagans have appointed our leading priests, and they use their appointment to increase their own wealth!”

  Eleazar had heard such critiques before, and as such the words themselves bothered him little. The people often complained about the wealth of his family and other leading priests. The envy of the masses was not surprising. But this time the growing crowd and the pall of anger that rested over it was a different matter. His anxiety was rising.

  The prophet continued his rant. “They grow fat, eating fine foods and living in luxury while the people of the city, their own people, struggle to survive!”

  Now cries of full-throated support broke forth, and a deep fear seized Eleazar. Would this prophet light the spark of rebellion here and now?

  He raised his hand, and slowly the din of the crowd faded. Then he looked specifically in the direction of Eleazar and continued speaking:

  “As in the days of Jeremiah, these priests are bandits. They hide in this temple, thinking it will protect them from God’s judgment. But the kingdom of God is coming, and it will be no respecter of this place!”

  The crowd erupted with cheers at these final words. He moved toward them, and the crowd parted to let him pass through. A smaller group, perhaps his disciples, fell in behind him. Eleazar kept on watching them as they made their way back to the Shushan Gate and exited the city.

  The entire horrifying scene took no more than five or ten minutes, but it seemed like an eternity to Eleazar. While stunned at what had unfolded before him, Eleazar was also relieved that the crowd had not been turned into a rioting mob.

  In his twenty years as a priest, he had never witnessed such a direct affront to the temple and its leadership or a more imminent threat of violence in the city. His mind was racing as he tried to wrap his mind around the political ramifications of the prophet’s actions. He had entered the city as a victorious king, an act that both challenged the authority of Rome and jeopardized the peace of the city. Additionally, he had entered the temple courtyards, caused a violent disruption, and not only challenged the authority of the temple and its leadership but also almost brought the people to the point of violence. King Herod had burned men alive for such a disturbance in the temple! In less than an hour this man had, in the eyes of Rome, committed two capital crimes. The peace of the city was indeed at great risk.

  Jesus’ intentions now seemed quite clear, and these were the very intentions Pilate had feared. They were the reason the governor had wanted to arrest Jesus before he reached the city, but Caiaphas had convinced him not to. Eleazar shook his head at this thought. Pilate would be furious. It was looking like his father had made a rare and tragic mistake in judgment. He could only hope it was not a fatal one.

  PILATE

  Pilate sat at his private desk, fuming. A messenger from the Antonia fortress had just delivered news about the prophet Jesus’ dramatic entry into the city and his defiant act of protest in the temple courtyard. It was a complete and utter disaster—the very thing Pilate wanted to avoid! But this was far worse than he could have even imagined. He thought this prophet might slowly rally the people to his cause, stir them up throughout the week, and finally attempt to lead them in some demonstration against Rome’s power. But this man took a completely different approach. He flaunted his ambitions from the very beginning and did so in one of the boldest ways imaginable. At least secrecy and the element of surprise will not be weapons to fear with this messianic aspirant, Pilate mused sarcastically.

  In a way, the strategy was quite brilliant. In openly proclaiming his ambitions, this prophet put Pilate in a bind. Pilate would obviously need to remove the threat to keep the peace, but how would he do it and still keep the peace? From the report he had received, the masses had eagerly supported the prophet’s actions in the temple courtyard. The people loved him! Any attempt to arrest him openly might spark a riot and jeopardize peace. Pilate was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t! Well played, prophet, he thought. Perhaps he was even hoping to force Pilate’s hand, inciting a violent military response to his entrance. The manner he went about entering the city certainly seemed like he had a death wish.

  But if that was Jesus’ plan, no one took the bait. Brutus, the commander of
the Jerusalem cohort, had not sent soldiers onto the Temple Mount to arrest him. Brutus had received a report of the disturbance from the soldiers at the Shushan Gate, where Jesus had entered the city. In response, he had quickly organized three hundred soldiers to be ready to storm the court of the Gentiles if things began to turn violent; one hundred of them were archers who could rain down arrows on an unruly mob from the top of the courtyard porticos. From the fortress towers, he could observe the situation easily enough, but it never escalated to the point of mob violence, so he stayed his hand. Pilate was proud of the prudent way Brutus had handled the situation and would have to comment on it in his next letter to the legate of Syria, the supreme commander of Roman military forces in the region.

  Why had he not arrested the prophet in Jericho?! Why did he listen to Caiaphas? All his best instincts told him to eliminate the threat before it became unmanageable, but he didn’t listen to them. He wouldn’t ignore those instincts again. Caiaphas was certainly correct that in not arresting Jesus, Pilate would ensure his own peaceful entry into the city. Just three days prior, Pilate had marched into the city with three hundred soldiers, and it didn’t elicit a single peep from the onlooking crowds. But Pilate would have gladly traded such an entry for one with angry jeers and rotten figs to avoid the situation he found himself in now.

  What would he do about this Jesus? It seemed the prophet clearly wanted a confrontation, and Pilate knew a confrontation must come. The open flouting of Roman power and claims of messianic deliverance could not go unchecked. But Pilate determined then and there that any confrontation would be on his terms and not the prophet’s. This was a latrones match in which both parties were aware that Pilate had the advantage. But if Pilate was not careful, a victory could quickly become a loss. He needed to play out this game, and he knew that Roman power alone could not solve the problem. He was going to need the help of Jewish authorities to succeed. As much as the thought sickened him, he was going to need Caiaphas’s help.

  He was not only angry at Caiaphas but also saddened the priest had made the wrong call; perhaps he was even sorrowful at his own anger toward Caiaphas. But perhaps the priest who got him into this mess would prove useful in getting him out of it. As grave a mistake as it was, Pilate told himself that it was not beyond the possibility of redemption. All was not lost, and there must still be a way to both successfully eliminate the prophet Jesus and keep the peace. If both goals could be accomplished and Caiaphas was able to help him accomplish them, the high priest’s error in judgment could be forgiven.

  The thought of finding a new high priest certainly didn’t appeal to Pilate. He worked well with Caiaphas. He liked Caiaphas. He did not like his alternatives, most of whom were either related to or in some way aligned with Annas, a former high priest. Pilate neither liked nor trusted Annas. He seemed disingenuous, always plotting ways to enhance the wealth and power of his own family.

  Pilate did not look forward to his scheduled meeting with Annas the following day. Apparently, Annas had concerns about the way the city was being run by its current leadership, concerns Pilate might not be aware of. No doubt this would be another attempt to undermine Annas’s son-in-law. While Pilate was angry at Caiaphas, he was not interested in whatever chicanery Annas might be up to.

  On the other hand, a meeting with Caiaphas was both crucial and urgent. They needed to meet that very night. Thoughts of how to deal with this prophet were beginning to form in his mind, but the developing plot would require Caiaphas’s help. He would no doubt dislike Pilate’s proposal, but he would have little choice. It was Caiaphas’s fault they were in this mess, and that gave the priest little leverage regarding how things would move from this point forward. The latrones match was on, and Caiaphas was going to be one of Pilate’s most valuable pieces.

  PILATE

  As Caiaphas entered Pilate’s private chambers, he certainly did not seem sheepish or hangdog. Instead, he bore all the dignity and confidence of a priest of his stature. While Pilate didn’t expect anything different, it irritated him that there was no sign of contrition for the terrible mistake in judgment this priest had made. Though Pilate wouldn’t overdo it, he needed to put this priest in his place.

  Caiaphas had quickly responded to Pilate’s request to meet and had agreed, without any pushback, to come to Pilate rather than vice versa. In the past, the place of meeting had often involved negotiation, as Jews had qualms about meeting in the homes of Gentiles. They couldn’t jeopardize their absurdly precious purity. At first, this notion deeply offended Pilate—as if his very existence was a disease! But in the end, he decided he must move past the offense if he had any hope of successfully ruling these people. In fact, Pilate had gone to great lengths to accommodate any Jews who might visit him in Jerusalem. He maintained Jewish dietary customs, removing one of the great obstacles to Jewish-Gentile interaction. Given his earlier experience with bringing images into the city, he also avoided bringing anything that could be regarded as an idol into the palace. To be sure, no Jew would have gone this far to honor his sacred traditions.

  Pilate paused dramatically before addressing the priest. “You are obviously aware of today’s events. In light of them, it seems quite clear what the intentions of this prophet are. And I think we can now safely conclude that he did not intend a peaceful visit in order to participate in the Passover festival.” Pilate’s word’s dripped with condescension and rebuke.

  Looking back at Pilate as if untouched by his words, Caiaphas replied, “Yes, his intentions now seem clear. This was always a possibility, to be sure, but I still contend it was prudent to be certain before acting.”

  The gall of this man! thought Pilate. Even now he refused to admit his mistake and apologize for his poor counsel!

  “Prudence be damned!” Pilate snapped angrily. “Former evaluations of what might have happened make no difference now! All that matters is what did happen. Rulers are not judged on the soundness of their decision-making process but on whether they made the right decision! Your decision was a gamble. You lost. That is all that matters now. You must own your decision and all the consequences that come with it.”

  Caiaphas lowered his head. Finally, a sign of contrition. “Your words are true, Pilate. My error was indeed a grievous one, and I will accept the consequences whatever they may be.”

  “Grievous it was,” Pilate replied, his tone softening, “but it doesn’t need to be fatal. You will indeed suffer the consequences for this mistake, but they are likely not the consequences you currently envision. At least not yet.”

  “Then you have a plan?”

  “Yes, I have a plan,” Pilate replied, “though you won’t like it.”

  “Whether I like it matters little. I am obliged to do what I can to alleviate the problem I have aided in creating. When and where do you intend to arrest the Galilean prophet?”

  “I don’t.”

  “You don’t?” Caiaphas’s face could not hide his shock and confusion. “After what happened yesterday, I can only imagine it will get worse. Surely his boldness will increase rather than decrease. How can you allow this threat to continue?”

  “Yes, that is indeed a danger,” Pilate replied, “but arresting him might be just as dangerous. It is, in fact, what I think he wants me to do. Entering into the city in that manner was intended to provoke a specific response, would you not agree?”

  “Perhaps,” said Caiaphas, “but simply leaving such a response unchecked cannot be an option, can it? The signal it sends to the people is a dangerous one. It might even embolden them to follow this man into open revolt!”

  “No, his actions cannot go unchecked,” Pilate said. “That is certainly not an option.”

  “I don’t understand,” Caiaphas said. “If he is not arrested, how will you address the threat he poses?”

  “I didn’t say he would not be arrested,” replied Pilate. “I said I won’t be arresting him.” A knowing smile crossed his lips.

  Caiaphas’s expression chang
ed from perplexed to startled. Then, with an air of sadness and defeat, he said, “You mean I am to arrest him.”

  “Ah, now you take my meaning.” Pilate’s smile was still on his lips. “If I arrest this prophet with Roman soldiers, the risk for riot and revolt is indeed great. But if you arrest him, and you punish him, the risk might be mitigated significantly.”

  This idea clearly did not sit well with Caiaphas. “You may be right, but the people at the temple were certainly quick to embrace this prophet’s critique of us. Many of them perceive us ranking priests as an extension of Rome. You appointed me as high priest, of course. Do you really think the people would be less angry if he were arrested by me rather than you?”

  “I do—as do you,” Pilate replied confidently. Caiaphas was trying to use the people’s response to Jesus’ critique of the priests as a shield, but Pilate wasn’t fooled. “You and I both know the people’s envy of wealth might be used to elicit cheers and jeers, but that it is not enough to lead to violence against the institution of the priesthood. Your own reputation with the people is quite favorable and another deterrent to any sort of significant retribution. On the other hand, I grant that any arrest of such a popular figure will carry some risk, but if planned and executed carefully, I believe it could work. At the very least, it would lower the risk of a violent response toward Rome. Given the current predicament we find ourselves in, that is as good as any other option we have.”

  “No doubt such a plan of action carries greater risks for me than for you,” Caiaphas replied. “It will weaken my position with the people, and that weakness could be used against me by my political enemies.”

  Pilate nodded. “Yes, your political strength will be at risk, and your popularity with the people will likely take a hit. All actions have consequences, so let’s hope this is the worst you face. Besides, what other choice do you have? If you refuse, I would have no choice but to remove you as high priest and find another who will do what I ask. Surely Annas would be willing to offer up one of his sons for the task.” Pilate made a disgusted face. “I hardly want to do that. I like you, Caiaphas. I trust you. We work well together, and I have no desire to replace you.” Pilate paused somewhat dramatically before his next words: “But I will if I must.”