Killing a Messiah

by Adam Winn

  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 fin
ally 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?

  CALEB

  From the courtyard outside the palace Caleb went to his first assigned location, a prominent marketplace about six blocks east. This market primarily served the middle to lower classes of the city and sold a variety of goods. It was just after eight in the morning, and the market was far from its full capacity. But because the Passover feast was that evening, many more people than usual were there. He quickly found that he was not the first one to share the news.

  In the center of a crowd of about fifteen people, a young man and woman were answering the people’s questions about the morning’s events. Caleb had seen the woman at the trial but not the man. As he drew closer, he saw tears on the faces of some and anger on others. A man asked, “But when did they arrest him? How come we are just hearing about this?” The woman responded, “I don’t know when they arrested him. I just know what I saw this morning: he was bound and brought before Pilate by our leading priests—by the high priest himself!”

  “He must have been arrested last night,” the man said.

  “But what were the charges?” another shouted.

  “He was charged with sedition. A false messiah who threatened the peace of the city,” the woman replied.

  “And that Roman tyrant condemned him!” said an angry voice.

  “No!” the man in the center said loudly. “You aren’t listening! Pilate tried to free him. He said he found no basis for the high priest’s charge.”

  “Horse dung!” shouted the same angry voice. “You said he was being crucified, didn’t you? We all know who puts people on crosses!”

  “Were you there?” the man in the center shouted back. “Are you calling me a liar? If you don’t want to hear what happened I can stop wasting my breath!”

  “Calm down!” said the strong voice of the woman. “It was the priests who demanded his crucifixion, not the governor. I was confused too, but that is what happened.”

  “It makes no sense!” said the angry voice.

  “You are right,” said the woman, “but it’s the truth just the same.”

  Caleb saw the angry questioner break from the crowd, hands raised in disgust. He joined another group some thirty feet away and unleashed his angry questions on another witness.

  Caleb could hear similar conversations going on around him. Some were angry, some were sad, but all were confused.

  With the news already spreading like wildfire throughout the market, he went to his next assigned stop, a popular inn and tavern that hosted a large number of pilgrims at the Passover. The tavern was already abuzz with talk of the prophet’s arrest and impending execution. Again Caleb saw tears and anger.

  One man had the attention of the entire room. “How much longer?” he shouted. “How much longer will we take this tyranny from our Roman oppressors? How long will we let them kill our people, our prophets, without retaliation? And in this holy week! We must take action and drive them from our city!”

  A calmer voice replied, “I hear your frustration, Brother, but it seems you have not been listening. The Roman governor found the prophet Jesus innocent. It was our own priests who demanded his death. Do you suggest we take action against our priests? Who among us would be willing to take up arms for such a cause? I fear you seek to turn this tragic event into a cause of rebellion. I am sorry, but I cannot follow you there.” Murmurs of support ran through the room.

  “Our priests are merely pawns in the hands of Rome!” the man retorted. “Who here can honestly say they believe Pilate’s hands are innocent in the arrest and condemnation of this prophet?”

  A young woman spoke up. “But I was there! I witnessed Pilate declare the man innocent! He even released
a Jewish prisoner to show his sincerity!”

  “Nothing more than a charade to fool the masses! Don’t be taken in by Roman trickery!” the man shouted in reply.

  To Caleb it seemed these words resonated with the crowd; the man might have just gained some supporters. But then an elderly woman stepped forward and spoke commandingly to the room. “Perhaps you are right; perhaps you are wrong. Either way, your call for violence is foolish. I, too, am saddened and confused by this news. Like many here, I believed the prophet Jesus would bring about the long-awaited fulfillment of God’s promises. But I won’t let my failed hopes be the cause of violence and the bloodshed of my people. If this Jesus is indeed God’s prophet, then God will deliver him and us. If he is not, there is nothing you or I can do. Far be it from us to force God’s hand!”

  Agreement again rumbled through the room. It was clear the man had lost what support he had.

  “Cowards!” he yelled. “You embrace weakness and passivity and call it faith. You dishonor your ancestors, who took up iron against God’s enemies and with such faith prevailed!” He turned and nodded to a few young men standing behind him, and they stormed out of the tavern. As they left, the room erupted into speculation on the morning’s events.

  Caleb took his leave. He had one more location on his list, but he could not imagine that news had not already reached it. News was spreading rapidly across the city, and he could not keep up with it. Surprise and sorrow were everywhere, and though anger was present, it seemed like it would not erupt into revolt.

  Instead, he decided to head home and check on his sister. Since he had closed the shop for the morning, she should be there with his aunt and cousins. Perhaps they had not yet heard this news—no doubt it would be terribly sad for them. At least they could take solace in the release of Samuel.