Chapter 10 of 15
And so that is how it happened that all of us – Jesus and his guards and the priests and the elders and the scribes – we all found ourselves marching yet again through the streets of Jerusalem.
When we reached the public forum that lies just outside the palace, the guards dragged Jesus away to a cell, and Caiaphas was summoned to an audience with Pilate. A familiar crowd had followed us back and forth through the streets of Jerusalem, they grew larger and louder with each successive passage. Now they melted into the multitude in the forum, which already overflowed with a merry celebration of the Passover holiday. Merchants sold foods and spirits that had been specially prepared for the festival; musicians, acrobats, and other performers entertained the revelers in hopes of earning a few shekels.
After a short time, my master emerged into the forum through a door in the palace wall. He was usually a calm man, even in the face of adversity – but from his brisk stride and the fire in his eyes, I knew that he was angry. Grabbing my arm, he pulled me along after him as one might lead a mule; he did not stop until we had reached a place where we were removed from the crowd.
"Why does Pilate insist on acting out this foolish charade?" the priest demanded, once he made certain that we could speak in confidence. "Is it not enough that we have given him a pretext to crucify Jesus without arousing the anger of Tiberius? Do we have to satisfy the whims of his wife as well?" I did not understand my master's meaning, but I also knew that these questions were not really directed at me and that the priest did not expect an answer, and so I held my peace.
"The wife of the Procurator has dreams, Enoch," the priest finally said, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "Her dreams tell her that her husband should spare the life of Jesus. He has convinced her that he is blameless, that it is we who demand the death of Jesus. But in order to appease her even further, the Procurator has designed yet another test for us." Caiaphas shook his head as if he still could not quite believe what he had heard. "I tell you, Enoch," he said, "I believe that Pontius Pilate dreads the displeasure of his wife more than he fears the wrath of his Emperor."
"And what is it that the Procurator would have you do?" I asked, when I finally felt that it was safe for me to speak.
"Not I," the priest said, with a note of sadness in his voice. "It seems that it is you who still has one more part to play in this tragedy," he added, invoking a word that the Greeks use to refer to a story that concludes in great sorrow.
And then, in a near whisper, and only after glancing about to make certain that no one else could hear, the High Priest of Israel told me what I must do.
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©2004 Henry Charles Mishkoff