Jesus pulled up, turning to survey the damage he had wrought. His eyes were blazing, daring anyone to challenge him. The moneychangers and owners of the various merchandise had withdrawn into the shadows of the nearby Solomon’s Porches. They were muttering and shaking their fists at him, but not one of them came out to confront him.
Jesus turned to face them. “Is it not written in the scriptures, ‘My house shall be called of all nations a house of prayer’?”
The cravens shrank back deeper into the shadows as the crowd turned to see what answer they would give.
Jesus shook his head in disgust. “Instead of a house of prayer, you have turned it into a den of thieves.”
IV
The hot debate going on in the Sanhedrin was instantly cut off when the first roar of the crowd went up. Mordechai and half the others shot to their feet, staring out into the courtyard. They heard a loud crack as something heavy hit the ground; then came the wild bleating of animals.
“What is it?” Caiaphas blurted out. “What is happening?”
“It’s a riot!” someone cried. “Call out the guards!”
“The Romans are upon us!” someone else screamed.
Mordechai didn’t wait to see if either was right. He was up and running as fast as his overweight and underworked body was capable of going. Azariah fell in behind him, as did others.
“Bring Caiaphas!” he shouted over his shoulder.
As they entered into the Court of the Gentiles, Mordechai saw the crowd. Another roar went up; he could tell it was more of a cheer than a cry of alarm. Something else cracked sharply. A moment later, Caleb, Azariah’s chief associate and a senior member of the Great Council, raced past them, followed by Menachem. “Make way!” they screamed. “Make way for the council.”
V
Miriam looked up as the crowd gave way. Her heart froze. There, his face mottled and angry, exactly as it had been the last time she saw it, was her father. He was with Azariah and several other richly dressed men. She shrank back against Simeon, averting her head.
But her father was not looking at the people around him. He and Azariah, with Caleb, Menachem, and the other council members, pulled up short. Tables were overturned, pens were down, animals were racing away, darting here and there through the crowds. People were on their knees, scrambling for the coins that lay everywhere. And in the midst of it all, there stood Jesus, his chest rising and falling, his hair somewhat in disarray.
At the sight of the delegation he turned slowly to face them.
Mordechai’s face went purple. Again! The man had dared to do this again?
He strode forward as a low mutter swept across the crowd. Suddenly, four temple guards appeared, running hard, hastily trying to catch up to their employers. But seeing that, several in the crowd rapidly closed the opening behind the men from the Sanhedrin, cutting the guards off on the periphery. Mordechai and Azariah and their cronies were on their own.
Mordechai suddenly felt his hair prickle. While clearly many people were troubled by what Jesus was doing, a far greater number were ecstatic. Their faces turned ugly at the sight of the council members. They detested the moneychangers. They detested these oily men with their corrupt weights and their lightning-fast hands. They detested the Sanhedrin, who gave them license and profited from their filthy lucre.
But then anger overrode any hesitation Mordechai felt. He stepped forward in a fury. Azariah was right beside him. For all his strutting and posturing, the chief Pharisee was not a coward.
“What is the meaning of this?” Mordechai cried.
“You dare to disrupt the services of the temple?” Azariah shouted.
“It is written that God’s house shall be a house of prayer, and yet you—” and now Jesus was not looking at the craven men cowering in the shadows; he was looking directly at the leaders of the two most powerful religious bodies in Judaism—“you have made it into this.”
“By what authority do you take upon yourself to act in the name of the Sanhedrin?” Mordechai shouted, his whole body trembling with rage. “Answer, or face immediate arrest and imprisonment.”
“Are you mad?” Azariah joined in, screaming, drops of spittle flying from his mouth and lighting on his beard. He spun around, looking at the wreckage around them, then spoke to the crowd. “The man is insane. Absolutely mad! He desecrates the sacred temple precincts.”
To his relief, Mordechai saw more than a few heads begin to nod. There were some here who were not in favor of what was happening. Others were still shouting angrily, but Azariah’s accusation had garnered at least some supportive reaction. Mordechai decided to press his advantage.
Pulling himself up to his full height, he also spoke to the crowd. “I am Mordechai ben Uzziel, of the presidency of the Great Council. We demand to know by what authority this man takes it upon himself to create a riot here. Here! In the temple of God.” He swung back around. “Explain yourself, Galilean. You have gone too far. By what authority do you dare to act in such a manner?”
Jesus seemed almost amused by the question. Mordechai was instantly wary. The man was obviously not worried in the slightest about this challenge.
“Well,” Mordechai said loudly, but a little more hesitantly, “are you going to answer or not? The Great Sanhedrin demands to know.”
Jesus leaned forward slightly, speaking in a clear voice for all to hear. “I would ask you one thing, which if you tell me, I in like manner will tell you by what authority I do these things.”
Mordechai hesitated. He had seen even old crafty Azariah bested by this man, but there was nothing for it but to agree. “Ask on,” he snapped.
“The baptism of John. Tell me from whence it was? Was it from heaven or of men?”
Mordechai flushed. He instantly saw the snare. Fumbling, he decided to stall. “May I consult with my colleagues? Since we speak for the council, we must be united in our answer.”
Jesus nodded, smiling faintly.
The delegation huddled together. “What do we say to that?” Mordechai whispered.
Azariah was pulling at his beard, clearly troubled. “It is a dangerous question,” he noted.
“If we say it was from heaven,” Caleb pointed out, “then he’s going to ask us why we did not believe in John?”
“And if we say he was of men,” finished Mordechai, clearly seeing their dilemma, “then the people will turn against us.”
“It would be very dangerous right now,” Menachem agreed nervously. “The common people all hold John as a prophet of the Lord.”
“Exactly,” Mordechai said shortly. “So then?”
Azariah was shaking his head. “So then we can’t answer him, or he’ll have us either way,” he muttered.
Mordechai nodded and turned to face Jesus again. “We cannot tell whether John’s authority be from heaven or from men.”
There was a fleeting moment of sadness on Jesus’ face; then his expression became determined. “Neither then can I tell you by what authority I do these things.”
There was a low murmur of approval from the crowd. These arrogant toads had been bested, and the common people loved it. One man even guffawed out loud.
But before Mordechai or Azariah could say anything, Jesus went on. He had turned away from the delegation and spoke directly to the surrounding people. “What think you? A certain man had two sons. And he came to the first, and said, ‘Son, go work today in my vineyard.’ And the boy answered and said, ‘I will not.’ But afterward he repented and went as he was told. And the man came to the second son and said likewise. And this son answered and said, ‘I go, sir.’ But he went not.”
Jesus swung back to Mordechai and Azariah. “Tell me. Which of these two did the will of his father?”
Realizing that they were only being drawn in deeper, Mordechai hesitated. He looked at Azariah. There was no choice but to answer, and there was no answer but one. “The first,” he said.
Jesus’ expression turned cold. “Verily I say unto you, that the publican
s and the harlots will go into the kingdom of God before you, for John came unto you in the way of righteousness, and you believed him not. But the publicans and the harlots, whom you call sinners, believed him. But even then, you repented not, that you might believe him.”
Azariah was shocked right down to the tips of his richly embroidered velvet sandals. “Harlots!” he sputtered. “In the kingdom of God? Publicans!”
“That is a most ridiculous and insulting idea,” Caleb snarled, jumping in to support his master.
Jesus went on quickly, again turning away from them and talking directly to the crowd.
“Hear another parable. There was a certain householder which planted a vineyard, and hedged it round about, and dug a winepress in it, and built a tower. Then he let it out to husbandmen and went into a far country. And when the time of the fruit drew near, he sent his servants to the husbandmen, that they might receive the fruits of the vineyard. And the husbandmen took his servants and beat one and killed another and stoned another.”
The unruly crowd settled down rapidly, sensing that in this story something very important was being said. Every person was listening intently, suspecting that once again this story was directly aimed at the leaders who stood before Jesus.
“Again,” Jesus continued, “the householder sent other servants, more than the first. And they did unto them likewise. But last of all he sent unto them his son, saying, ‘They will reverence my son.’ But when the husbandmen saw the son, they said among themselves, ‘This is the heir. Come, let us kill him, and let us seize on his inheritance.’ And they caught him and cast him out of the vineyard and slew him.”
Simeon went rigid. Miriam looked up at him in surprise. “What?” she whispered.
“He’s talking about himself. He is the son.” He felt sick. Here it was again, the talk of death. Miriam’s eyes went wide, and then, in horror, she looked at her father. There was no understanding in his eyes. He looked puzzled, almost bored. He didn’t see it!
“When the lord therefore of the vineyard comes,” Jesus asked, turning again to Mordechai, Azariah, and the men who had come with them, “what will he do unto those husbandmen?”
The members of the council looked at each other. What did this little story have to do with what was going on here? Menachem, half sneering, answered the question. “He will miserably destroy those wicked men, and will let out his vineyard unto other husbandmen, which shall render him the fruits in their seasons.”
Jesus nodded thoughtfully, letting the significance of that answer sink in. Azariah saw it first. “You speak of us?” he said shrilly. “You’re saying . . .” He stopped, the enormity of the words hitting him hard.
“Did you never read in the scriptures,” Jesus went on, “‘the stone which the builders rejected, the same is become the head of the corner’? Therefore say I unto you, the kingdom of God shall be taken from you and given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof.”
“How dare you!” Mordechai hissed, his voice trembling with fury. “You would—”
But Jesus cut in sharply, overriding him as his own voice cried out like the blast of a trumpet. “And whosoever shall fall on this stone,” he said, “shall be broken. But on whomsoever this stone shall fall, it will grind him to powder.”
Miriam’s father’s face was completely white, and she saw that his hands were shaking violently. For a moment, she was afraid that the two leaders were going to hurl themselves at Jesus. Then her father turned to the crowd, his eyes flitting from face to face. Any sign of support for the council members was shrinking fast. Most of the faces were hard, cold, contemptuous.
Suddenly Mordechai visibly jerked. Miriam drew in her breath sharply. He had seen her! His eyes had stopped on her and Simeon. Slowly he straightened to his full height, his face like stone. It was as though she was staring at the face of a stranger. Then without a word, he turned away from her and haughtily stomped away, the others falling in behind him.
The crowd fell back, making way. The only sound now was the shuffling of feet on the pavement. Eyes burning, Miriam watched until they disappeared, and the throngs closed in again. Simeon put his arms around her as silent sobs began to wrack her body. In that moment, all hope of reconciliation was dashed forever.
VI
Mordechai said nothing as he walked stiffly away from the crowd. His head was high, and his eyes never strayed from the front, but he was keenly aware of the hostile stares and the whispering that took place behind cupped hands. They were making fun of him. Mordechai ben Uzziel, one of the most powerful men in all of Judea, was being mocked like a beggar in the streets.
Once they were clear and the people were behind them, he stopped and whirled on his companions. “Menachem!” he barked.
His aide leaped forward. “Yes, sire?”
“There’s something I want done immediately.”
“Whatever you command, sire,” Menachem said. His voice revealed how deeply shaken he was too.
Mordechai glanced at Azariah briefly. “There is no way we can take this man when the people are with him. You saw it. They would have stoned us if we had tried.”
“So what do we do?” Azariah asked.
“Spread the word,” came the hard, cold answer. “Put it out on the streets. Send it to every thief and harlot and brigand you can find.” His eyes bored into Menachem’s. “Let it be whispered in the halls where supposedly respectable men gather. And most especially, spread the word to those who claim to be followers of this charlatan from Nazareth.”
“Yes, sire?” Menachem waited expectantly, not sure exactly what word he was expected to spread.
“Let it be known that a very rich reward awaits any man who can deliver Jesus at a time and place where there aren’t ten thousand people howling his praises.”
A look of pure admiration bathed Menachem’s face. Was it any wonder he had placed his fate with this man? “It shall be done, sire,” he barked, and he turned and darted swiftly away.
“Well!” Azariah snarled.
Caleb jumped guiltily. “What, sire?”
“You heard Mordechai. Why are you standing there with your tongue hanging out? Go!”
Chapter Notes
Many are not aware that there were two cleansings of the temple, one at the beginning of Christ’s ministry and one just prior to his death. The Gospel writers indicate that the second cleansing happened shortly after the triumphal entry (Matthew 21:12–13; Mark 11:15–17; Luke 19:45–46). It is Mark who gives us this detail: “And he would not suffer that any man should carry any vessel through the temple” (Mark 11:16).
Some Gospel accounts also place the second cleansing of the temple on the day before the parable of the wicked husbandmen (Matthew 21:13–24; Mark 11:15–20, 27–33). Luke is less clear, but he indicates that Jesus taught in the temple daily (Luke 19:47); he also places the den of thieves event earlier (Luke 19:46) than the other exchanges with the Pharisees (Luke 20:1–19).
When one reads the Savior’s scathing denunciations of the Jewish religious leaders, it isn’t surprising that he triggered such murderous fury. We are given some insights as to why they didn’t take him immediately: “And they sought to lay hold on him, but feared the people” (Mark 12:12). “The chief priests [the Sadducees] and the scribes [allies with the Pharisees] and the chief of the people [the Sanhedrin] sought to destroy him, and could not find what they might do: for all the people were very attentive to hear him” (Luke 19:47–48).
Chapter 24
It is an easy thing for many to be shut up in the hands of a few, and there is a difference in the sight of heaven to save by many or by few; for victory in battle standeth not in the multitude of an host, but strength is from heaven.
—1 Maccabees 3:20
I
1 April, a.d. 33
After the confrontation between Jesus and the Jewish leadership, the men of the company went on high alert, expecting at any moment to see the temple guards rushing in to arrest Jesus. But the
y never came.
Jesus left the Court of the Gentiles and went into the Court of the Women. As soon as he seated himself on a bench and began to speak with the people, Peter called for a quick conference to discuss the likelihood of more trouble. Aaron stood back a little, not feeling like he was part of this inner circle, but finally he spoke up. “They’re not going to come,” he said.
Everyone turned in surprise. Simeon and David gave him questioning looks.
“They fear the people,” Aaron said, a little awkwardly. “You saw what happened. They saw that the crowd was with Jesus, and they didn’t dare to do anything.”
Aaron knew only too well the mentality of the members of the Great Sanhedrin. They were like boys wetting their fingers and sticking them up to determine which way the wind was blowing. And this wasn’t just a wind; it was a hurricane. The crowds flocking to Jesus were tremendous, and his popularity was growing every day. And why not? Every day brought some new and wondrous report. A man born blind now saw. Aaron’s own relative was straight and whole after eighteen crippling years. And then there was Lazarus. That had set the whole countryside aflame. And all of that had come out when Jesus mounted a donkey and rode into Jerusalem as a king.
The capstone had been his cleansing the temple of the moneychangers. Here was a group universally hated by the common people. Not only was the system corrupt and exploitive, but everyone knew that the Sadducees, who controlled everything having to do with the temple, permitted it because they were reaping huge profits from it. Nor were the Pharisees innocent. Though they outwardly condemned any dishonesty, it was common knowledge that Azariah and his brethren quietly looked the other way as they received a healthy share of the take under the table as well.
“Our people are too volatile,” Aaron went on. “They’re highly emotional. If Mordechai had called for the guards, he and Azariah would have been the ones in trouble, not Jesus. These men are far too shrewd to make that mistake.”
The men saw that Aaron was right and relaxed their vigilance somewhat. The Twelve stayed close to Jesus to help manage the crowds, but many of the other men wandered away, glad for the opportunity to walk around the magnificent environs of the temple. David and his family went to see if they could find Benjamin and Esther, who had promised to come as soon as the flocks were delivered to their pens.
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