It was a triumphal procession when we entered the Holy City during the Feast of Unleavened Bread. The very air hummed with excitement. Jesus rode in on a donkey. I had tried to explain to him that we should look for a white stallion, or a stallion of any color. Stately and powerful was a more appropriate image for a king than meek and humble. But I suppose there wasn’t one available; in any case, the guys came back with this inadequate creature. Nevertheless, Jesus looked like a king. We walked beside him—his royal entourage—basking in his glory. He was the Messiah, the true king of Israel coming to Jerusalem to claim his throne, and the twelve of us in his inner circle would soon rule over the twelve tribes. I believed it.
Counting us twelve, the hundreds of other disciples, the women, and the crowd of pilgrims joining us, we were a multitude by the time we began the descent of the Mount of Olives toward Jerusalem. We all began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that we had seen. As Jesus rode along, the crowds got caught up in the excitement. People began throwing down their cloaks, spreading their garments on the road before him. Others lay down leafy branches they had cut from the fields. We were all shouting, and singing, “Hosannah in the highest, peace in heaven and glory in the highest! Blessed is the kingdom of our father David that is coming!”
This was the culmination of sharing my life with him the past three years, learning from him, watching him expel demons, raise the dead, take authority over wind and sea, and much, much more. Not even the prophet Elisha could do the things he did. Then came the day when he gave us his authority, sending us out two by two. Together, Mathew and I had gone from town to town ahead of Jesus, healing and driving out demons in his name. It was pretty heady stuff, so I guess I got swept up in the whole idea that demons had been subject to me. We were almost to the gates. Nothing could stop us now. Jesus had been discouraging about what he expected to happen to him over Passover, but who could take his dark predictions seriously with everyone shouting, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord.”
By the time we passed through the gates of Jerusalem, all the city was stirred, saying, “Who is this?” And the crowds answered, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth of Galilee.” We proceeded straight to the Temple Mount, with the people following us in anticipation. And there in the Court of the Gentiles, he picked a fight. He took a whip and started driving out all those selling sacrificial animals, knocking over tables, scattering pigeons and money-changers as he went. (One of these men almost ran me down, and in his panic to get away from “this madman”, dropped some coins, which I pocketed discretely).
That was one of the bothersome things about Jesus. He simply did not understand politics. Nathaniel had introduced me to him three years ago. My family were merchants from Karioth, in southern Judea. We had understood what was required to stay in business as Jews living under foreign occupation. Jesus was blind to the ways of the world. He should not be antagonizing the Pharisees and the Sadducees. We were going to need their support if we were going to drive out the Romans and establish his kingship over Israel.
I had given up a comfortable living to follow the rabbi. But he had promised that whatever we had given up, we would get back ten or twenty or a hundred-fold when he established his kingdom. I had staked everything I had on his promises and on the miracles he could perform. He had to be Messiah. Didn’t he?
Once the “den of thieves”, as he called them, had been cleansed from the temple, there was plenty of room for regular folks to gather and listen to him speak. Jesus taught them all day long, healing the blind and the lame who came to him. Some of the temple guards stood and listened to him for a while, but did nothing else.
In the heat of the afternoon, I was getting tired and irritable standing around doing nothing. I was leaning against a pillar when an old Levite friend of mine, Caleb, approached and greeted me.
“So, this is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth,” Caleb said. “You are with him?”
“Yeah.”
“You know he is going to get you and all your friends killed. Don’t you?”
I didn’t answer him. He went on talking as if I had agreed.
“The High Priest says the Nazarene is going to bring Rome down upon our heads if he is not stopped.” I lifted an eyebrow as he continued, “Caiaphas would like the opportunity to talk some sense into him before it’s too late. If a riot breaks out in Jerusalem, Pilate will take swift action against the entire city, which could mean the destruction of God’s temple. Open your eyes, Judas. You’re following a madman.”
“I don’t know that that’s true. But even if it is true, what can I do about it?”
“You can help save the nation, my friend. Come by my quarters later, and we will talk about it in private. I promise it will be worth your time.”
As we were all returning to Bethany that evening, one of the other disciples gestured back at the temple mount and said to Jesus, “Look Teacher, what wonderful stones and what wonderful buildings.”
Jesus replied that the temple would one day be destroyed, but that Jesus himself would rebuild it in three days. That started a cryptic discussion over when this miracle would occur, during which Jesus seemed to be saying, “tough times are coming, wars and plagues, sun and moon, soon and not soon, and nobody knows when, not even me.” Sigh. Why couldn’t prophets speak plainly?
That evening, Jesus retired early to the room where he was staying at the home of Lazarus, the man he had raised from the dead. There was much excitement among the pilgrims camped at Bethany, so it was easy for me to slip away unnoticed and return to Jerusalem. When I arrived at Caleb’s lodgings, we were escorted through the servants’ quarters of the palace to where Caiaphas and his father-in-law Annas were waiting for us. There, Caleb withdrew and left me alone with them. I was quaking in my sandals. But they treated me with great courtesy and offered me jasmine tea and unleavened honey cakes.
“My son,” Caiaphas said, “we find ourselves in a very precarious predicament. This Jesus violates the Sabbath, and he teaches others to do so. Many people think he is Messiah and that he threatens Rome. We need to get the danger under control before violence breaks out and Rome destroys us all. We only want you to help us arrange a meeting where we can reason with him.”
“I really don’t think Jesus will agree to that.”
Annas placed the tips of his pudgy fingers encrusted with jeweled rings together under his lips. His eyes smoldered with malice, but his voice was smooth as silk. “Then, if he won’t listen to reason, we must take him into custody until the Passover is over and the pilgrims all go back to their homes.”
“For his own safety,” Caiaphas hastened to add, “and for all our sakes.”
“I don’t know.”
Caiaphas leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingertips. “I will be honest with you,” he said. “I don’t like the man. He is a sinner and a blasphemer. But you and I both know that our Roman overlords will not permit us to put a man to death, as the Law of Moses commands. This is the most that I can do to preserve the peace, so I must try to do what I can. Your rabbi is in no real danger. If you could find out where we might find him away from these accursed crowds and let us know so that we can arrest him safely, we would be most grateful.”
I needed to think. I had been with Jesus three years. He was my rabbi. I thought he was perhaps the one to save Israel. But what these men said—men who sat on the chair of Moses, no less—sounded reasonable. To gain the friendship of the High Priest was no small matter either. Maybe it was time to cut my losses before it was too late. “What about the others?” I asked.
Annas and Caiaphas exchanged a meaningful look. “We will pay you,” Annas said.
“How much?” I asked.
“Thirty silver pieces.”
“Very well, as long as his disciples are allowed to go free.” I stood and reverenced the High Priest and Annas. “I will let you know when the time is right.” (To be continued)