Maximus

by Richard L. Black

  The warmth of witness overtook Jershon as well in the form of silent tears. He too felt an inward joy at knowledge and light being once again confirmed to his soul.

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  Maximus and Androcles endured the meal with Pilate. The constant babble of his court sickened Maximus. They were pitiable in their condescension toward the Jews and the inflated opinion they had of themselves and Rome. Their wine-soaked banter was full of derision for everything Judaean. Maximus found it hard not to contradict their ignorance but knew it would bring no good. He looked for the first opportunity to excuse himself and return to the more comfortable surroundings of Ezra’s humble home.

  “The longer I stay here, the less Roman I become,” Maximus said as they arrived at Ezra’s house.

  “I agree. It’s time to leave Jerusalem,” Androcles answered.

  “That’s not what I meant.” Maximus immediately began to change into his woolen robe. “I have become more Jacob than Maximus.”

  Androcles eyed his friend warily. “You talk as if you have made a decision.”

  “I talk like one who values the lifestyle of a simple fisherman over that of a general fighting for causes he no longer believes in.” Maximus sighed as he sat down on a wooden stool and put his head in his hands. “Did you listen to them today?” he asked Androcles.

  “Yes.”

  “No, did you hear what they were saying? They think themselves superior in all things. They even think themselves above you and me when in fact we outrank all of them in Jerusalem. They have lost touch with reality. They don’t care whether Jesus lives or dies. To them he’s a bother and a distraction to their indulgent lifestyle. I don’t understand.” Maximus threw up his hands.

  Androcles remained standing. He chose his words carefully as he sensed the passion behind Maximus’s feelings. “My brother, we were sent here to advise Pilate and report back. We have advised him. Let’s go back to Rome and report.”

  Maximus leapt to his feet. “No, I am going to see this through!” he said belligerently.

  “See what through?” Androcles asked.

  “We need to stay and protect him,” Maximus said.

  “Protect Jesus of Nazareth?”

  “Yes.”

  Androcles tried to reason with his friend. “That’s not our mission, Maximus. That’s not what we were sent here to do.”

  “It’s what I have to do!” Maximus responded.

  “If you chase the enemy into their own dark forest, you have to know that’s a tactical disaster,” Androcles cautioned his friend.

  “This is not war,” Maximus responded.

  “You’re making it a personal one,” Androcles replied.

  Maximus sat back down, realizing his deputy commander was right. Androcles was just trying to keep his general from making a fatal error.

  “So what do I do?” Maximus asked.

  “We go. We’ve made our recommendation to Pilate. We collect the horses, return to Caesarea, and catch the first available ship to Rome. It is done. After we meet with Gaius Valerius and perhaps the emperor himself, we make our own decisions about returning to Capernaum.”

  Maximus squirmed uncomfortably. “I don’t want to leave until I see this through. We will stay through the Jewish Sabbath.”

  “This is more about Liora, isn’t it?” Androcles posed.

  “Perhaps it is equally about her,” Maximus answered honestly. “Never have I felt so helpless, Androcles. I give orders; people obey them. I change the course of a battle and perhaps of history, yet I feel helpless to make any difference here.”

  Androcles sat down on a chair to face his friend. “We weren’t sent here to make a difference. We were sent here to observe and report, my brother.”

  Maximus looked Androcles squarely in the eye and, with great restraint, said, “Jesus of Nazareth and a beautiful Jewish woman from Capernaum have changed that.”

  They sat in silence until the door suddenly opened; it was Ezra, a little out of breath. Maximus helped Ezra sit, and Androcles poured some water into a cup for him.

  “Are you all right?” Maximus asked as Ezra threw off his head covering and wiped the sweat from his brow.

  “I am fine, my son. What a glorious day I have had.” He smiled as he took the cup of water from Androcles and drank deeply. “What a wonderful family you have befriended.”

  “You met with them?” Maximus asked anxiously.

  “Oh, yes, my son, I met them. You have chosen well.” Ezra took another drink.

  Maximus looked at Androcles, who shrugged his shoulders.

  “You have chosen two beautiful young women from a worthy family.” Ezra looked at them both and smiled.

  “I don’t understand,” Maximus questioned.

  “My good general, surely you weren’t this blind on the battlefield—or you, either, commander. There are two women camped not far from here whose hearts are broken because the men they love have left for another campaign. Go to them. Leave your swords for good. Collect them in your strong arms and make the life for yourselves that you long for. You will receive Jershon’s blessing. Now go. I need to rest.” He walked to his bed to lie down.

  Maximus and Androcles stood speechless. They heard his faint voice from the back room once more, “Jacob, Levi, go . . . go now.” Then all was quiet.

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  Seth was the first to spot them approaching and hurried to greet them. Jershon embraced both men, heartily welcoming them as his sons. David, with some reservation, shook their hands as they entered the camp. Naomi was hard-pressed to hide her happiness. Sariah was unreserved in her embrace of Androcles. Timidly Liora approached Maximus.

  “You have returned,” she said as she looked up into his eyes.

  “I have returned for you,” Maximus whispered as he reached out his hand. They embraced affectionately.

  The evening was filled with animated and happy chatter. Sariah sat close to Androcles, and Liora sat next to Maximus. Her reserve and proximity were intoxicating. It was all Maximus could do not to take her passionately in his arms.

  Jershon stood. “My sons, may we have a word in private?” He walked away, expecting them to follow, and headed for the place where he had spoken with Ezra earlier in the day. Maximus and Androcles followed, and the three men sat down under a large olive tree.

  Jershon wasted no time. “I assume you both know I met with Ezra today?”

  “Yes,” Maximus and Androcles answered in unison.

  “Did he tell you of our conversation?” Jershon asked.

  “He said you had talked of us,” Maximus said, reluctant to elaborate.

  “The feelings my daughter and my niece have for you,” he chuckled, “are quite obvious. My question is, What are your intentions?”

  “Intentions?” Maximus asked.

  Jershon continued. “I don’t expect you to be familiar with our customs, some of which I find tedious myself, yet there are certain protocols to be followed in arranging a marriage.” Maximus and Androcles squirmed at his words. Jershon sighed, and it became clear he was having a hard time conveying what he wanted to say. “These are confusing times,” he continued. “I know you as fine young men. I understand all that has happened and why. What I struggle with as a father and uncle is how to justify my daughter and niece being courted by two men not of the covenant of Abraham—and Romans at that. Even though they are two of the finest men I have ever met.”

  “Jershon,” Maximus replied, “we have a job to complete. I think it would be premature to make any decisions beyond what Androcles and I came here to accomplish in the first place. This is a volatile time, and he and I seem to be at the center of the battle. That is not unfamiliar territory for us. But this is a different kind of battle. Despite our experience in war, we are finding it difficult to influence the outcome. In fact, the closer we get to the center of the storm, the more we realize how powerless we are. This battle seems headed toward a predetermined outcome, and I greatly fear the consequen
ces.”

  “You speak perceptively, my son. Will your further involvement take you from us?” Jershon asked.

  “Not in the way you are thinking,” Maximus answered. “We would like to continue our association with your family, especially with Liora and Sariah, but we must remain vigilant throughout the rest of this week. Our mission requires us to observe. We can only do that by monitoring the movements of the Nazarene and remaining close to Pilate.” He looked Jershon in the eye. “Your enemy is not Rome but your own leaders who stir up evil because they fear losing power and control. They will not be satisfied until they have brought about their dark conspiracy. I don’t think we can stop it, but we have to document it.”

  “You speak of Jesus,” Jershon said sadly. “Will they arrest him?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid it’s well beyond that, my friend. They seek his life,” Maximus said soberly.

  “Surely they won’t just murder him?” Jershon said with concern in his voice.

  “They will bring some charge against him that will precipitate his death,” Jacob answered.

  “But I understand that the prefect retains the power to take life under the law,” Jershon said.

  “Yes, that is true,” said Jacob. “That is why we are staying close to Pilate. We don’t want him swayed by members of the Sanhedrin. Ezra calls them vipers, and he is right.”

  “But if he truly is the Son of God, surely he has the power to stop it.” Jershon put up his hands in frustration.

  “You would think so,” acknowledged Maximus, “but it seems he won’t. I don’t know why. His death appears inevitable, and yet on some level it must be acceptable to him or he wouldn’t have come to Jerusalem. I don’t understand it.”

  Maximus had succeeded in directing the conversation away from Liora and Sariah, but his heart was suddenly troubled as he thought of the innocent Nazarene being pursued by wolves. He stood abruptly. “We must go, Jershon. We will return soon, rest assured, and we will talk of more happy matters.” They bade him good-bye, embracing him affectionately, and left him pondering the things they had discussed. Jershon had even fewer answers now, and he realized he had very little to tell Sariah and Liora, who would certainly quiz him on his return.

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  It was late in the afternoon when Maximus and Androcles returned to Ezra’s home. “I think we should change into our uniforms and return to Pilate to get an update of Jesus’s movements and see what the Sanhedrin are up to. The battle lines are being drawn, my brother,” Maximus said firmly.

  Ezra was studying his scrolls. Zilpah had prepared the evening meal, so they ate with haste and departed, barely speaking to Ezra, who was engrossed in his studies. They returned to Pilate’s palace.

  “My friends, we meet again.” Pilate greeted them as they entered the courtyard. “You left so abruptly earlier I thought we had offended you.”

  “We had other matters to take care of,” Maximus replied. “Have you met with the members of the Sanhedrin?”

  “You just missed them,” Pilate said. “They were here not an hour ago.”

  “Why did they grace the court of the prefect?” Maximus quizzed.

  Pilate laughed. “They never grace my court. They come complaining and asking favors. They wanted to know if we knew the whereabouts of the Nazarene. I told them we had heard he was in Bethany and that if he came back to Jerusalem we would certainly be aware of it, as he seems to attract a lot of attention. Even absent he causes them grief. I’m beginning to like this Jesus.” He laughed and those around him laughed as well.

  Maximus managed a weak smile. “Do you know where the leaders of the Jews have gone?” he asked.

  “I believe to the home of Caiaphas, the high priest. They plan to arrest the Nazarene if he returns. Apparently they have spoken with one of his disgruntled followers and are striking a deal to arrest him quietly. How they will manage this I don’t know. He is followed by thousands everywhere he goes. Go to the house of Caiaphas and inquire yourself. I will have one of my men show you where he lives.” Pilate waved a dismissive hand.

  A short, quiet man timidly moved forward. “Would you like me to take you to the home of Caiaphas?” he asked, his eyes on the floor.

  “No,” Maximus said bluntly and turned to go. Androcles followed him. The sun was starting to set as they reached the steps outside the palace. Maximus looked out, his brow furrowed in deep thought.

  “What do you have in mind?” Androcles asked. He knew this look of stern conviction on Maximus’s face. It meant he was making a strategic decision.

  “You are right, Androcles,” Maximus said as he looked off to the orange glow of the western horizon. “We wait. As you say, it would be foolish to chase the enemy into the darkness of their own forest.”

  38

  יום חמישי

  Yom Chamishi

  Early Thursday, Maximus woke before the sun came up. He donned his robe and head covering and decided to visit the temple. His walk toward the temple was unhindered by the pushy crowds that were certain to fill the streets within a couple of hours.

  Ezra had told him the previous night that the temple would be filled early with people making their Passover offering. It would be crowded, noisy, and dusty, a place to be avoided. Maximus had asked Ezra if he thought Jesus would visit the temple today. Ezra thought not. His presence would make for more confusion and, out of respect for the people who had journeyed long distances to make their offerings, he would most likely stay away.

  At this early hour, the Court of the Gentiles was quiet; the gates to the inner precincts were shut. The sky reflected a dark blue hue just before it gave way to the yellow of sunrise. The outlines of the buildings and walls of the city were coming into focus. Shadowy figures darted here and there on early-morning errands.

  Maximus was uneasy. This was not the kind of battle he was accustomed to fighting, and he felt powerless against the rising tide of the enemy. He couldn’t just sit around and wait for something to happen, but he wasn’t entirely sure anything would happen. Maximus smiled to himself at his obsessive concern for the potential arrest of a common Jew. That it took so much space in his thinking was foolish, yet this Nazarene had affected him like no other man ever had. Yet he couldn’t just find him, walk up to him, and say, “I’m a legate of Rome. For your own protection, come with me.” He almost laughed out loud at the thought. A man who could heal the blind and raise the dead probably had no fear of arrest. If the Jewish authorities were able to arrest Jesus, would he subject himself to it? They could have taken him anytime in the past few days when he was at the temple. But as Ezra had noted, the leaders of the Jews feared that confronting him in public could cause an uprising. That’s the last thing Pilate wanted and something the chief priests preferred to avoid. They wanted to do it quietly and without notice so there would be no questions, or worse, revolt.

  It appeared the Jewish leaders were reaching the point of no return; the outcome seemed inevitable. Maximus hoped he had influenced Pilate enough that he would refuse to render a death sentence. That would be reckless. But he had the uncomfortable feeling that to retain their power, the Sanhedrin would settle for no less than the Nazarene’s death. In their minds, they were thwarting an eminent threat to their control. He shook his head in frustration.

  It was beginning to be light when Maximus arrived back at Ezra’s house. Androcles appeared in the doorway. “I heard you leave but wasn’t fast enough to follow you. Is everything all right?” he asked.

  “Yes, everything is fine. I needed to walk, just as we did on campaign,” Maximus responded.

  “Well, when you used to walk, it was before making decisions about strategy prior to battle. You would return and lay out the plan to us. So, what is the plan?”

  “There is no plan, Androcles. But we’re not going into battle, and surely Jesus will stay away from Jerusalem today. Why don’t we go for a ride on the horses and get away for a while? I feel cooped up in this city. It’s no differen
t from Rome with its walls, narrow streets, and plague of humanity. Maybe later we can visit Jershon again.”

  They walked to the tent of Tamur, who was happy to see them, and retrieved their horses. They rode westward, encountering a secluded stream in which to bathe.

  “Have you considered what you might lose if you resign your rank and stay in Judaea?” Androcles finally ventured.

  “I wouldn’t lose anything. For most of our lives, Rome has sent us into battle, Androcles. There was never a guarantee of our survival. In fact, we have beaten the odds. I am taking my life in my own hands for a change. I will complete my duty to Rome, but I will not remain Roman.” Maximus’s tone was unequivocal.

  Androcles could not refute his friend’s reasoning, nor did he care to argue. Maximus was right; to this point they had both given their lives to the whims of Rome. His thoughts turned to David and blacksmithing, recalling bittersweet memories of his days as a young boy with his father and brothers in the forge. He saw himself pounding steel by a hot fire, sweating, but with a smile on his face. Blacksmithing was hard work, but he would never have to go to sleep at night wondering if he would die by the sword the next day. Yet he was torn by it all. His heart was telling him one thing, his mind another.

  “I have followed you into the darkest battles with the odds heavily against us. I have slept in the cold and in the mud by your side. I have walked thousands of miles of hot and dusty roads under your command. Why would that change now?” Androcles said in a calm voice.

  “I am not commanding you to do anything. If you follow me, you do so of your own free will,” Maximus responded.

  “Then I will myself to follow you once again, general.” Androcles splashed water in Maximus’s face.

  “Jacob,” Maximus corrected him. “This time you walk freely with Jacob—still your friend and brother.”

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  Ezra greeted Maximus and Androcles on their return from their afternoon in the countryside. “I have received word from two sources. The Sanhedrin has been gathered the entire day at the home of Caiaphas, the high priest. It appears they intend to arrest Jesus soon, perhaps tonight. Another source tells me the Nazarene and his closest associates may return to Jerusalem this evening.” Ezra returned to the scroll he was reading.