by Adam Winn
It didn’t take him long to make his way home. The shades on the windows were open, indicating that all were now awake. He opened the door and was surprised to see no one in the front room. He walked to his room and saw his cousin Jacob sitting with his back to him on the bed. He then stuck his head in his sister’s room and saw no one.
“Where have the women gone?” he called out. There was no answer. Irritated at his cousin’s silence, he went back toward his room and called, “Jacob!” He entered the room and was shocked to see the face of his cousin Judah turn toward him.
“Judah!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Where is my family?”
“It is good to see you too, Cousin,” Judah said with a smile as he rose to embrace Caleb.
Caleb shook his head. “Yes . . . yes of course . . . I am sorry. You deserved a better greeting than that. You just surprised me!”
“I know, Cousin. Not to worry. I was just having some fun with you,” Judah said with a smile. “Sorry I startled you.”
“But why are you here?” Caleb asked. “Is it safe?”
“Yes, I think it is now quite safe. I would never have put you in danger, Cousin,” Judah said. “Over the last three days, there have been no spies around my house. It appears I am no longer being watched. And I heard from one of my spies that I am no longer being investigated for the attack on the soldiers. It appears our friends told the Romans nothing.”
“That is incredible news!” Caleb tried his best to act surprised. “You can now return to your family, resume your life!”
“Yes, it appears I can,” said Judah quietly.
“But what brought you here this morning?” Caleb asked. “And where is the rest of my family?”
“I came to tell you all the news of the morning’s events. Have you not heard?”
“The news of Jesus?”
“Yes!”
“Yes, I am aware,” Caleb said quietly. “I was there this morning.”
This news seemed to surprise Judah. “You were there? Why were you there?”
Caleb realized he needed to be cautious. “By accident, really,” he lied. “I woke up early and could not go back to sleep, so I went for a walk. While I was walking, I overheard people talking about something happening at Herod’s palace, something about the prophet Jesus. I was curious, so I followed them. I arrived just before Pilate came out to greet the priests who had arrested Jesus.”
“So, is it true what people are saying?” Judah asked. “Did Pilate actually find the man innocent? Did our priests protest and demand his death?”
“Yes!” Caleb said. “It is all true.”
“Is it true that he even released a Jewish prisoner?” Judah asked.
Suddenly it dawned on Caleb that Judah did not yet know the only good news of the morning. “Yes, it is true!” he said. “They released a prisoner. Judah, it was Samuel!”
Judah’s countenance went from confusion to surprise to joy in a matter of seconds. “Samuel?” he sputtered. “Samuel?”
“Yes, Judah! Samuel! He has been freed!” His cousin grabbed him in a tight embrace and swung him once around the room. Then Judah quickly drew back and asked with excitement, “What about Simeon? What about Joseph? Were they also freed?”
Caleb looked down. “I am sorry, Judah. Only Samuel was released. I know nothing of the fate of Simeon and Joseph.”
“All right, but there may still be hope!” Judah said excitedly. “Samuel is free. I thought he was dead, but now he is free!” Judah hugged Caleb again and quickly turned to leave.
“Wait,” Caleb said. “Where are you going?”
“I have to find Samuel!”
“Yes, of course,” said Caleb, “but where is the rest of my family?”
“Oh yes! When I told them the news that Jesus would die, they were heartbroken. They all decided to go to the place of the skull to witness the event. I think they wanted to support him in some way.”
This news both frightened and horrified Caleb. He shook his head.
“Don’t worry, Cousin,” said Judah. “They will be fine!” He ran out the front door.
Caleb was not so sure. He had no interest in witnessing a crucifixion, but he felt he needed to go join his family. He grabbed some bread and dried dates and threw them in a sack. As he headed out the door, the dreadful thought of his destination replaced the joy of his celebration with Judah.
ELEAZAR
As Eleazar watched Pilate enter the palace that morning, he was amazed at how well things had gone. Together, his father and Pilate had orchestrated a convincing display of conflict over the guilt or innocence of the prophet Jesus. The priestly faction of the great council had been successful in creating a crowd of almost two hundred people. They had played their part well in their unrelenting demand for Jesus’ death—though some had no idea they were playing a part at all. The fact that they were unaware no doubt made their performance all the more convincing.
And Pilate had even created his own little wrinkles in a light scourging of the prophet and an offer to release Jesus and punish a true insurrectionist in his place. Both acts gave the demonstration an authentic feel and hopefully made the entire scene more convincing to onlookers, of which there were a significant number. Many informants had been tasked with spreading the narrative that Pilate had wanted to release Jesus, but the large number of observers made it even more likely that word of the morning’s events would soon blanket the entire city.
As preparations were being made for Jesus’ crucifixion, Eleazar noticed that the Roman soldiers were mocking him. One had placed a crown made of some sort of greenery on his head, while another had placed his garment over Jesus’ shoulders. Two were bowing before him as if he were a king.
The mockery didn’t last long, as the centurion leading these soldiers reprimanded them after a quick word from Caiaphas. The centurion then returned to Caiaphas and spoke to him quietly. Whatever the centurion said did not make his father happy. The centurion simply raised his hands, indicating there was nothing he could do, and walked away. The exchange made Eleazar curious.
As he approached his father, Caiaphas was cursing Pilate under his breath. “Is something wrong?” Eleazar asked. “What did the soldier say that upset you?”
“It’s Pilate!” his father said. “He improvised enough earlier and now he lays this on my lap!”
“I don’t understand,” said Eleazar. “What has he done?” It was rare to see his father this angry.
“We are to be responsible for two more executions today!” his father said in an exasperated tone. “While Pilate has freed one of the three men arrested for the attack on Roman soldiers, the one who is clearly no threat, he has tasked us with crucifying the other two with Jesus.”
“Why would we do that?” Eleazar asked. “We did not arrest them or have them tried.”
“Pilate doesn’t care about that!” Caiaphas said angrily. “And he knows most people won’t know that either. They will think we are responsible for the execution of all three for insurrection and disturbing the peace.”
“Is there nothing we can do?” Eleazar asked.
His father shook his head. “He is the Roman governor, Son. He appointed me, and I serve at his behest. There is nothing we can do now but follow his order. But we will remember.”
A messenger arrived to inform them that preparations had been made and they could now make their way to Golgotha, the place where crucifixions commonly took place. It was decided that Caiaphas, together with Eleazar and Aaron, would lead the processional, and a number of priests from other ranking families would follow. Ezra and Simeon would return to the temple to oversee the Passover preparations of the day. Caiaphas told Eleazar that Annas and his sons had volunteered to take on extra responsibilities in the temple while Caiaphas oversaw the crucifixion.
How gracious, thought Eleazar sarcastically. Annas would not dare be caught playing any more of a public role in the prophet’s death than he already had. Eleazar had notice
d earlier that Annas did not wear his formal robes to the trial before Pilate, and that he stayed toward the front of the crowd to make it difficult for onlookers to identify him.
Only six soldiers were to accompany them to Golgotha. The Roman presence needed to be as small as possible, but they were needed to perform the crucifixions. The desired image was that of Jesus being executed by Jerusalem’s leading priests. While there was certainly a danger of protest from the people, perhaps even violent protest, the hope was that they would be reluctant to stand in the way of their high priest. Ultimately, Pilate and Caiaphas were relying on both a respect for the office of high priest and Caiaphas’s own reputation as both righteous and devout.
The procession would not take long. The place of execution was just outside the north wall of the city on a hill that resembled a skull. However, they would have to travel through city streets, and Eleazar was anxious about the reception they might receive.
After leaving the courtyard, they entered their first public street. Since it was not yet nine in the morning, there was little traffic. But as they passed by, people came to their windows, balconies, and rooftops to watch. Some ran ahead to tell others of the procession. Eleazar looked around at the faces and saw primarily sorrow. Tears stained the faces of many, and some were wailing loudly. One woman ran forward to offer Jesus a cup of water, and Eleazar was relieved to see that the Roman soldiers allowed it. Anger was on some faces, but ultimately the priests’ worst fears remained unrealized. The people threw no stones and formed no mob. In fact, Eleazar was surprised to see that no one even yelled at them. He concluded from this that the narrative of the morning’s events had already reached the people. The streets were quiet and somber as they passed, and by the time they reached the north gate the peace had held.
As they drew closer to the execution site, they saw that a large crowd had gathered. Crucifixions did not generally draw many people, as most of the condemned were not widely known. Family and close friends might be present, but few others showed up for such a gruesome event.
But because of Jesus’ popularity with the people, this crucifixion was a different story. Many likely came to show support for the prophet they loved, and others no doubt came to confirm the rumors they had heard about the morning’s trial. Did they really convict the Galilean prophet? Did Pilate really find him innocent? Would his execution be at the hands of their own priests? Pilate’s absence would answer all their questions, as he generally presided over crucifixions.
As the procession arrived, they saw that the other two prisoners were already there, with four Roman soldiers standing guard. They were stripped to the waist, and it was clear that they had been tortured while in custody. Now new lashes from scourging also lay across their backs.
Crucifixion was a gruesome and horrific punishment, one the Romans had perfected. It was a public execution intended to deter anyone from challenging their power. The cross declared Rome the winner, and the crucified, losers. Victims were stripped naked, a humiliation in itself. They were then fixed, usually by ropes but at times by nails, to a wooden cross. Death was caused by exposure to the elements and suffocation. Eleazar had seen victims writhing in the agony of cramping muscles and gasping for breath as they tried to push the weight of their bodies up for air. Such pushing usually made the cramps worse—it was a vicious cycle and one that was painful to watch. Despite the intense pain, the will to live often led victims to fight for many hours, and at times even days. But the outcome was always the same. No one escaped a Roman cross with their life. Dying quickly was the only mercy a victim could hope for.
Much to Eleazar’s chagrin, it appeared these Roman soldiers preferred nailing their victims to the cross. He could not bring himself to watch. The sounds alone, iron crushing through bone and the subsequent screams, were enough to turn his stomach. These preparations brought gasps and horrified cries from onlookers. Even those who were aware of what was coming could never be prepared to see such horrors.
Before the soldiers erected the crosses, signs were made describing the crimes for which each victim was being executed. Above the two who were guilty of killing Roman soldiers, the sign read “Insurrectionists.” Above Jesus, the sign read “King of the Jews.” Jesus was being executed because he styled himself a conquering figure, a messiah who would lead Israel in overthrowing Rome. It was a warning to anyone who might have such aspirations, and also mocked all who had hoped that Jesus was just such a deliverer. There was little more paradoxical than a crucified messiah.
The crosses were raised, with Jesus placed between the two insurrectionists. Their agony was just beginning, and it brought cries of sorrow and anguish from the crowd. Caiaphas, Eleazar, and Aaron left soon after. Their presence had achieved the desired effect, and it was necessary for them to return to the temple to purify themselves and join in the preparations for the Passover. Caiaphas appointed a handful of priests to stay and oversee the crucifixion, but the rest he gave their leave.
With the sights and sounds of crucifixion in Eleazar’s mind, it was hard to take pleasure in the success of the morning. But the plan couldn’t have worked better. They had removed the problematic prophet, and at least so far, the city remained at peace. Although not entirely out of the woods, it seemed they were through the most dangerous part.
CALEB
Caleb pushed through the crowd at Golgotha, looking around to find his family. At first his searching distracted him from the fact that there were three crucifixions taking place instead of one. It was not until after he had seen his sister and cousins standing opposite the crowd from him that he noticed there were multiple victims. His eyes were drawn immediately to the prophet Jesus in the middle, but when he looked at those to the prophet’s right and left, instant recognition gripped him with paralyzing horror. He was looking into the contorted faces of Joseph and Simeon!
Guilt, shame, and unbearable remorse slowly washed over him. This was his fault! His actions had placed them on those crosses. Almost involuntarily, he fell to his knees and began to convulse with uncontrollable sobbing.
After some time he felt a hand on his shoulder. When he turned around he saw the face of his cousin Judah, whose eyes were also filled with tears. He knelt next to Caleb and placed his arm around him.
“I feel your pain, Cousin,” Judah said softly. “These were two of my closest friends, closer than brothers.”
Caleb heard the words, but they were untrue in a way that Judah would never know. The pain he felt was pain that Judah could never feel. His pain was steeped in his own act of betrayal.
“They knew this could happen,” said Judah, a hint of strength rising in his voice. “We all did. When you take up arms against Rome, you know the cross might very well be your fate. These men die as heroes. Let that knowledge ease the pain in whatever way it can.”
If it was not for my betrayal, they would not have to die at all, thought Caleb, but he said nothing and only nodded.
“Their lives will not be in vain. They do not die like the prophet who dies between them. He promised a coming kingdom and presented himself as a messiah who could bring it, but in the end he did nothing for the cause of our people,” Judah said. “Joseph and Simeon die with real Roman blood on their hands. Their faith was true, their zeal unquestioned. It will take more men like them to bring about God’s kingdom.”
Judah’s words made more sense to Caleb than they ever had before. There had been too many like the prophet Jesus who brought hope of a dawning new age, only to die with that hope unfulfilled. Perhaps violence was the only way a kingdom of God would ever be realized. But then and there, motivated by both hatred for Rome and himself, Caleb decided to join Judah’s cause. He might never see the new and glorious kingdom, but he didn’t care. Whatever the result, he would devote himself to shedding Roman blood and the blood of all who aided the enemy. Maybe in such devotion he would find forgiveness for his own betrayal. Perhaps his guilt would drive him to actions that might eventually assuage it. Wha
tever the cost, his days as an informant were over.
“I need to go to my family,” he said softly to Judah.
“Of course,” said Judah, who quickly got to his feet and helped Caleb do the same.
They made their way through the crowd to Miriam and Caleb’s cousins and aunt. All were in tears, and Caleb’s arrival led to many consoling embraces. His cousin Jacob had placed great hope in the prophet Jesus, and the death of that hope was clearly painful. Miriam was fond of the prophet, but it was the deaths of Joseph and Simeon that truly broke her heart. They had played together as children; the boys had pulled her hair and teased her.
The family stood together for a while, unable to look away from the tragedy in front of them. It was Caleb’s Aunt Elizabeth who finally said, “There is no more good that can come from remaining here. Our hearts need a reprieve, and the great Passover requires preparation. It will do us good to put our hands to work.” No one spoke, but all heard the truth in her words. As she turned to go, the rest slowly followed.
Caleb and Judah were the last to leave. Caleb turned to his cousin and said, “Know, Cousin, that today I am committed to your cause. You have my life to whatever ends you require it.”
Judah nodded, a hint of pride on his sad face. They embraced and departed for home. That evening’s Passover meal would surely be a somber one.
PILATE
The cool breeze of the spring evening washed over Pilate as he sat on his balcony for a private dinner. Tonight, he wanted to dine alone and in peace. He wanted to reward himself for the day’s triumph. He ordered his cook to prepare a thick cut of tender beef rib (in Rome it would have been pork, but this was much harder to find in Judea), a block of fine Italian cheese, an assortment of roasted vegetables, and a strong red Pompeian wine, which many considered the finest in the empire.
As he was enjoying this small feast, he ruminated on the success of the day. The morning trial of Jesus the prophet couldn’t have gone better. Those present saw a play so convincing it would have entertained audiences in the theaters of Athens. And while Caiaphas’s priests played their part well, Pilate felt his own performance won the day. The look on Caiaphas’s face when Pilate had offered to release either Jesus or an insurrectionist was priceless! It was as if the old priest almost thought Pilate wanted to free Jesus! The image made Pilate laugh out loud. He did regret losing his temper with the prophet. Striking him was uncouth and could have been dangerous. His anger could have shown itself during his public performance, which would have been a problem. But at the end of the day, the plan went off without a hitch.