Maximus

by Richard L. Black

  Maximus and Androcles followed Pilate into the courtyard. Two soldiers seized Jesus by his arms and dragged him up the steps and through the gates. A few Jews in the crowd followed, apparently not bothered by the breach of Passover protocol that so concerned the chief priests. Maximus recognized a couple of them as Jesus’s close associates.

  Once alone with Jesus, Pilate stood face-to-face with him. “These are serious charges they bring against you, Nazarene. What do you say to defend yourself?”

  Jesus stood tall and quiet, not offering a word.

  Pilate was taken aback by his self-discipline and silent majesty. With some trepidation he looked Jesus directly in the eye and asked, “Are you the king of the Jews?”

  Raising his head, Jesus answered quietly. “Do you believe I am king of the Jews? Or are you just repeating what others have told you?”

  Pilate shook his head in frustration. “I am not a Jew. Your own people have brought you here for my judgment. What have you done to raise such ire in them?”

  Jesus looked at Pilate and in a soft voice answered, “My kingdom is not of this world; if it were, then my servants would fight to have me released.”

  Pilate threw up his hands. “So are you a king then?”

  Jesus answered, “Thou sayest that I am a king. To this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth. Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice.”

  Maximus was amazed at Jesus’s bearing and demeanor under the eyes of his accusers. He was impressed at the bold and calm manner in which he answered Pilate’s query. Here was a chance to plead his case to the official who could release him, yet he did not do that. Instead, he affirmed his identity and mission.

  Pilate again threw his hands in the air in frustration. “What is truth?” he sighed. He returned to face the accusing Jews waiting outside and exclaimed for all to hear, “I find no fault in this man.”

  The priests, scribes, and elders of the people voiced their disapproval loudly. Jesus was taken back down the stairs and once again forced to the ground by the soldiers. Maximus and Androcles followed and removed themselves to the shadows.

  Caiaphas spoke, raising his voice fiercely above the rising cries of the crowd. “But, sir, he stirs up the people against us, from here to Galilee.”

  Pilate scratched his unshaven chin and asked, “Galilee? Do you say this man is a Galilean?”

  “He and his men have been doing their evil in Galilee and have come to Jerusalem causing trouble and seeking more followers,” answered Caiaphas.

  Pilate was pleased at this news. “Herod Antipas is the ruler of Galilee. Take the accused to him for judgment.” With that Pilate turned, gathered his robes about him, and left the stunned crowd in silence.

  Caiaphas was not deterred. He turned to the growing crowd and announced, “We will take him to Herod Antipas for proper justice.” The crowd cheered, and the procession continued through the streets of the city.

  Maximus and Androcles followed in the wake of the boisterous crowd. They walked with the disciples of Jesus who stayed quietly in the background.

  When the throng arrived at the steps of Herod’s residence, the sun was adding definition to the gray shadowy walls within the city. Maximus, having been told of the usual habits of Herod Antipas, expected he would be found in a drunken stupor. Maximus was not wrong. Herod was unkempt and even from a distance it was obvious he was suffering the effects of too much wine the night before.

  When Herod saw Jesus, he was amused, for he had wanted to meet him. He had heard rumors of his miracles and thought this would be an opportunity to persuade Jesus to perform some magic for his pleasure. Jesus remained silent. He had nothing to say to the murderer of his cousin John the Baptist. To Caiaphas, Jesus had answered the Jews, and to Pilate he had answered Rome. Further defense was unnecessary.

  Herod, flustered by the silent Jesus and in an effort to please the crowd, energetically questioned and cajoled the prisoner before him, to no avail. He then resorted to derision and mockery. In the end, he told his soldiers, “Array the prisoner.” Herod’s men appeared with a beautiful robe and with derisive mockery, ceremoniously draped it around Jesus’s shoulders.

  “Take the king of the Jews back to Pilate, and thank him for sending him to me. Let Pilate pronounce Rome’s judgment; I see nothing to reprimand.” The priests and scribes again loudly voiced their contempt for Herod’s inaction.

  Herod dismissed the assembly and stumbled back into the quiet of his residence. Maximus shook his head in disgust. His report to Rome would include a condemnation of the degenerate client-king.

  The nest of vipers squirmed back to Pilate. Maximus and Androcles ran down a side road to get ahead of them as the crowd of gawkers was becoming large and unruly. Some spat on Jesus; others ridiculed and mocked him. Maximus and Androcles slipped through the gate, wanting a word with Pilate before he was summoned outside again.

  Maximus and Androcles were escorted into Pilate’s presence. “Gentlemen, won’t you join me for breakfast?” Pilate motioned to nearby seats at the table.

  “Herod Antipas has found the Nazarene innocent and sends him back to you. They are probably at the gates now,” Maximus said.

  Pilate sighed. “So what do I do?”

  “You release him. Set him free,” Maximus declared. “He has done nothing.”

  A guard appeared. “The priests seek you again, sir.”

  Pilate stood wearily and walked toward the gate.

  The mob was three times as large as it had been and swelling by the minute. As Pilate stepped onto the portico, the voices of the crowd rose in vehement slander and accusation. He knew he would be forced to make a decision.

  Caiaphas ascended the steps to stand before Pilate. “We demand justice upon this criminal!”

  “As I said before, I find no fault in this man,” Pilate replied.

  “Pronounce Rome’s verdict and punishment on this man who proclaims unlawful kingship,” Caiaphas said calmly, quietly.

  Pilate had begun to respond when Maximus stepped forward. He was disturbed that no one spoke on behalf of Jesus, a custom in the courts he knew, and he felt compelled to defend him.

  Maximus stood squarely in front of the chief priest and in a low but powerful voice said, “I ask you—what evil has this man done? You bring false accusations from false witnesses that ring hollow to intelligent ears, and then you seek out Rome to punish him. Shame on you—coward!” At this, the chief priest took a step back, speechless before this imposing man who seemed to have found favor with Pilate.

  Maximus continued. “In branding him a blasphemer, you blaspheme and perjure yourselves. You are all hypocrites!” He pointed to the group of priests and rabbis standing together. “This man is more than a king.”

  Maximus leaned forward, lowering his voice further and speaking sternly to Caiaphas. “The title ‘king of the Jews’ is a shadow of what his title truly is. He is your Messiah!” It was all he could do to keep from smashing his fist into the smug face of the high priest.

  Androcles stepped forward and drew Maximus back. Maximus spat defiantly on the ground at the feet of Caiaphas. The high priest took another step back from the man seething before him. He looked to Pilate for protection.

  Pilate stepped between Caiaphas and Maximus. He had no interest in inciting the mob to violence.

  Pilate turned to Maximus and said quietly, “Your passion for this Nazarene is enviable, but I question its wisdom.” Pilate felt he had come up with a solution and said to Maximus, “It is the custom for the governor to release a prisoner as a show of mercy during Passover. I will offer the people a choice between the Nazarene and the murderer Barabbas. Surely the people will release Jesus.”

  Pilate put his hand on Maximus’s shoulder and turned back to face the crowd. Maximus turned his back on them all.

  Pilate called before him the chief priests and the Jewish leaders present and gave them an ultimatum. “I have interro
gated this Jesus and found nothing wrong with what he has done. Herod also declares his innocence. The Nazarene has done nothing to warrant the death penalty you seek.”

  Jeers and epithets came up from the gathered crowd. Pilate raised his hands to silence their indignation. “You have a custom among your people to release at Passover an accused criminal. Choose you between Barabbas, whose crimes are known unto you, or this Jesus that is called the Christ.”

  The members of the Sanhedrin soon dispersed themselves amongst the murmuring crowd, talking quietly to many.

  Pilate became impatient at the delay and repeated his ultimatum. “What is your decision?”

  The shouts of Barabbas began quietly and grew until the crowd in unison chanted his name.

  “What should I do with this Jesus?” Pilate asked the crowd.

  “Crucify him!” they shouted.

  Pilate, his emotions frayed, made one last plea: “What has he done worthy of death?”

  “Crucify him, crucify him!” came back the shout from the hostile crowd.

  Pilate saw that further defense of the Nazarene could cause a riot. He sent for a basin of water and washed his hands as a symbol. Then he turned to the crowd and said, “I am innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it.”

  Pilate was incredulous at the decision of the people. Surely the chief priests had poisoned them. He purposely avoided the scathing looks of Maximus and Androcles. He was sorely troubled as he gave instructions to the guards. That very morning his own wife had warned him to have nothing to do with Jesus, for in a dream the previous night she had suffered greatly because of the Nazarene and knew he was innocent. Nevertheless, Pilate instructed the soldiers to scourge Jesus.

  Maximus and Androcles could not watch as the soldiers stripped Jesus of the robe and whipped him unmercifully. They hurried from the palace and walked quickly to retrieve Ezra. Surely he would know what to do.

  After the scourging, Pilate led the smitten and bloodied Jesus forward. He was clad now in a purple robe and wearing a crown of thorns that had been roughly crushed onto his head by the guards. Rivulets of blood streamed down his face.

  “I present you the accused,” Pilate said to the crowd.

  The shouts from the chief priests and elders again rang out in the early morning. “Crucify him, crucify him!”

  “Go and crucify him, then, but I find in him nothing worthy of crucifixion,” Pilate weakly repeated, attempting to assuage his own guilt.

  But the Jews answered Pilate. “He has made himself out to be the Son of God, and by our law he ought to die.”

  Pilate felt a great fear come over him and attempted once more to intervene. He turned to Jesus and quietly asked, “Who are you and where did you come from?” But Jesus again remained silent. Wholly exasperated, Pilate said, “Don’t you know I have the power to crucify you or release you?”

  Jesus looked directly at Pilate and answered, “You have no power over me. These who accused me have the greater sin.”

  Pilate saw that it was useless to defend the Nazarene further. The crowd was now accusing him, because of his delays, of being disloyal to Caesar. He turned Jesus by the arm toward the accusers and said, “Behold your King!”

  “We have no king but Caesar!” shouted back the chief priests.

  Reluctantly Pilate released his grip on the prisoner, retreated to the curule, his official judgment seat, and bade the guards take Jesus away.

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  Maximus and Androcles pushed open the door to the house harder than they’d intended, startling Ezra as they entered. He was up early, holding a piece of bread in one hand and a scroll in the other.

  He looked up at his two friends, who looked agitated. “My friends, you didn’t come back last night. Is everything well?”

  “They have arrested Jesus. Pilate, at the bidding of the Sanhedrin and because of his own weakness, has allowed him to be crucified. What should we do?” Maximus asked in a calmer voice than he felt.

  Ezra put down the bread and lowered the scroll. “It is written,” he said in a sad voice.

  “What do you mean, ‘it is written’?” Maximus asked.

  “The ancient prophets foretold the Messiah’s coming and his death at the hands of his own people. There is nothing we can do. If he is to be crucified, then Rome has dictated the sentence. Surely if Pilate has spoken, it is done.” A tear appeared in the corner of Ezra’s eye. “Who was present?” he asked.

  “The high priest Caiaphas and members of the Sanhedrin,” Maximus explained. “There were many elders and rulers there. The crowd was a mixture of Jews, even Jews from other lands. The rabble grew as the morning progressed. They were offered the choice to spare Jesus or a man named Barabbas. They chose Barabbas, so the murderer goes free, and Jesus goes to die.” Maximus paced the room. A rescue would be risky, but he felt confident he and Androcles would prevail. Plans and strategies began forming in his mind.

  “Be calm, my son,” Ezra said. “It is written. There is nothing you can do—or should do. It is God’s will.” He spoke with knowledge and a force of wisdom that Maximus was unable to contest. Ezra understood the Messiah and his mission. If Ezra asked them to let events take their course, as much as Maximus might want to disagree, he had no real basis to intervene other than his passion to fight for the innocent. It was an infuriating set of circumstances.

  “Where will they take him?” Androcles asked.

  Ezra thought for a moment. “Outside the city gates to a place called Golgotha, the place of the skull. It is there the Romans execute criminals.”

  The thought that Jesus would be crucified like a common criminal sickened Maximus. He looked at Androcles, and in one motion they headed out the door.

  “Wait,” Ezra called after them. “I’ll go with you.”

  The three men reached the gate exiting the city before the mob did. It was still early and people were beginning to move about the city. The Sabbath would be upon them at sundown, and people were making last preparations for Passover. Soon a commotion of people and dust came toward them with Roman auxiliary soldiers leading the way. Behind them was a man bearing a large crossbeam on his shoulders, followed by two others bearing similar crossbeams. Jesus walked behind them, covered in blood, dirt, and sweat, looking not unlike soldiers Maximus had seen after a fierce battle. A crown of thorns had been pushed into his scalp. Sweat and dried blood caked his face and arms. Close behind him were crowds walking and talking almost in a manner of celebration, both those who had accused the Nazarene and borne false witness and others who had maligned and denigrated him with their words and disrespectful actions.

  Among those near the end of the procession were some of Jesus’s disciples, identifiable from their despondent demeanor. Three women in particular drew Maximus’s attention. Two of them held up an elderly woman, who wept openly and appeared wont to faint as she trudged sorrowfully along.

  Ezra, Maximus, and Androcles joined the procession.

  Not far from the great walls of the city, the well-traveled road forked right and began a steep incline up a rocky hill. The way was dusty and the going slow as the multitude of people walked single-file to negotiate the narrow path.

  At the top of a low hill was the place of crucifixion. The crowd dispersed, sitting on the rocky ground where laborers had dug three holes. Some gathered large rocks to aid in propping up the crosses once they were lifted into place. Maximus didn’t recognize the soldiers assigned to carry out the crucifixion. The captain in charge barked orders and stood drinking wine that spilled onto his sweat-stained tunic and armor. A coarse and hairy man, he displayed the scars of battle. The soldiers were indifferent to the suffering of the three prisoners in their charge. Inflicting further pain by nailing them to crosses would suit them fine.

  Maximus watched as Jesus was grabbed roughly by his arms and his body stretched out on the cross that was lying on the ground. Two soldiers held him down: one grabbed his hair and knelt with his knee on Jesus’s uppe
r arm. Another soldier knelt with a knee pressing on his forearm. The burly captain took a spike in one hand, a hefty hammer in the other, and with cold detachment dropped the hammer heavily on the end of the spike. Jesus did not cry out—the women cried out for him. More blows drove the spike through his flesh and into the rough timber of the cross.

  Maximus, who had seen unimaginable cruelty and heinous wounds in battle, could not watch. Androcles twitched with every strike of the hammer. Once Jesus’s hands were secured, the two soldiers crossed his feet over a board serving as a foothold. The captain of the guard took a larger spike out of the bag and placed the tip on the top of Jesus’s foot. Repeated blows forced the spike through both feet and into solid wood. Further blows to secure the spike broke Maximus’s heart. A wooden placard was then nailed to the post above Jesus’s head. It carried an inscription that Maximus could not make out from his vantage point.

  With the prisoner secure on the cross, four soldiers positioned the bottom of the cross at the edge of one of the holes. They lifted it by the crossbeam, sliding it into the hole where it hit bottom with a jarring impact, causing Jesus’s body to bounce and rack. Maximus could only imagine the pain he was suffering. The soldiers straightened the cross and secured it with rocks and dirt to keep it upright. They repeated the action two more times for the prisoners being crucified alongside the Nazarene.

  The women Maximus had seen earlier huddled together in quaking sobs near the base of the cross on which Jesus hung. Androcles placed a comforting arm around Ezra, who wept openly. The clouds above them darkened ominously.

  The crowd, spurred on by the priests, continued to mock the dying Nazarene, shouting up at him, “If he is a king and the chosen of God, let him save himself as he did others.” Even the Roman soldiers mocked him and offered him a vinegar-soaked sponge on the tip of a reed.