“For what?”
“The prophet Jesus. He had a whip in his hands and was flailing away with it against the cattle and sheep merchants in the temple courtyard, who sell their animals for sacrifice. He drove them out—cattle, sheep, and all. You should have heard the bellowing and bleating. And cursing!”
While recounting the incident, the tribune’s face broke into a low smile, which Pilate found a bit contagious. He asked, “Did Jesus give any explanation for this…unusual conduct?”
“He said, ‘My Father’s house is for prayer. You have made it a den of robbers!’ Oh, but he was scowling furiously! Then he went after the dove dealers, and while they stood by gaping, he opened their cages and let all the pigeons fly away. And finally the money changers. That was a scene! Jesus stormed into their stalls and pushed over the change tables, sending the coins clattering across the courtyard. Hah! You should have seen the bankers scramble!”
“Tell me more!” Pilate begged.
“He simply purged the place of commercialism. If you’ll pardon my opinion, sir, I think he had the right idea. The temple was getting to look like a Persian market.”
“I dare say, or a zoo. But Tribune, didn’t you or your men try to interfere?”
The tribune winced a bit. “Well, no, sir. I didn’t want to infringe on the authority of the temple guard.”
“Why didn’t they act?”
“They wouldn’t have dared arrest Jesus at that time and place. He’s too popular with the pilgrims.”
“Suppose there were no crowds and no temple guard. Then would you have tried to stop the prophet?”
“I’d have been awfully slow about it.”
“You’re a good man, Tribune.” Pilate clapped him on the shoulder. Then he grinned. “I just recalled that most of the concessions in the temple courts are owned by the family of Annas and Caiaphas. What I wouldn’t give to have seen the looks on their faces when they learned the news!”
At supper that evening, Pilate rehearsed the incident for Procula’s benefit, and they enjoyed a round of laughter. She intended to go to the temple the next morning in hope of seeing Jesus, but Pilate knew nothing of the plan. Nor would he have approved.
She succeeded in her mission the next day, for during that famous week, Jesus appeared at the temple on a daily basis to address the people. Insulated by a bevy of women attendants and several auxiliary guardsmen, Procula came within fifty feet of the young prophet, but was afraid to press forward to meet him. There were too many people, and she did not want to make a scene.
Pilate took the news of her reconnaissance at the temple with less displeasure than she had feared, because he was curious about what Jesus had to say.
“You should have heard the man, Pilate,” she recounted. “He held the people spellbound. When he was finished speaking, some Pharisees shouldered their way to the front of the crowd and brought up something which you’ll find rather interesting, I think. They asked him, ‘Master, what is your opinion: is it lawful to pay the tribute money to Caesar or not?’”
Pilate’s eyes widened with concern. “What did he say, Procula? Recall it exactly. I don’t have to tell you that the fate of this Jesus may depend on how he answered that question.”
“My girls gave me a running translation. He said, ‘You hypocrites. Trying to trap me in my words, are you? Show me a piece of tribute money.’ So they handed him a silver coin. He held it up and asked, ‘Whose image is this, and whose inscription?’ ‘Caesar’s,’ they replied, and Jesus said, ‘Then pay Caesar whatever is due Caesar, and pay God whatever is due God.’”
“Ingenious,” Pilate admitted, “ingenious. Even Cicero would have been proud of that line.”
“Then the Pharisees—”
“I mean, look how sharp were the horns of that dilemma. If he’d said it was wrong to pay the tribute, he’d have been a hero to the people, but I’d have had to arrest him for treason. If he’d simply answered that it was right to pay the tax, the crowds would have called him a Roman lackey.”
“Anyway,” continued Procula, “the Pharisees disappeared. Then one of the lawyers asked him, ‘Rabbi, what is the greatest commandment in the Torah?’ and one of my Jewish girls said it was an awful question. Their Law is supposed to be equally great in all its parts. But Jesus replied, ‘God is one. Love him with all your heart, soul, and mind; and your neighbor as yourself.’ There was dead silence until someone cried, ‘Wise Rabbi, in one sentence you have summarized the whole Law!’ Then the people actually cheered. Imagine, at the temple.”
“How did this sit with the authorities?”
“How do you think? Then Jesus launched a bitter attack on them. ‘Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!’ he said, several times. Once he called them ‘blind fools.’ Then, I think, ‘a brood of vipers.’ Even ‘whitewashed tombs,’ nice outside, decaying inside.”
“How could they take that kind of language?”
“The people…remember?”
“Yes. I see it now. That’s why Caiaphas couldn’t arrest this Jesus despite his notices—the people. But now what will he do?” He paused and then smiled, “Caiaphas had better not come to me for help. For once he’s on the hook, while I can relax and watch him wriggle…Yes,” he murmured contentedly, “this is one Passover I think I’m going to enjoy.”
On Wednesday, Pilate set up his court. The first two days in Jerusalem he had been imperial fiscal agent. For the rest of the week and part of the next he would be provincial judge. Appeals, capital cases, all local disputes between Jew and gentile, and any political offenses involving a threat to the Roman administration would come before his tribunal. Because Pilate’s visits to Jerusalem were so infrequent, his docket was bulging.
Court was held in the main reception hall of the Herodian palace, now stripped of its golden shields, with Pilate sitting on a raised dais. Sessions lasted from early in the morning until noon, and then, because there were so many cases, from two to four o’clock in the afternoon. In Rome, courts usually had large juries, but in provinces like Judea, the prefect constituted judge and jury. However, he had to conduct trials carefully, since law was a Roman specialty.
It was an exhausting day for Pilate, including two acquittals, one condemnation to imprisonment, and one capital sentence. In the last, the condemned was crucified before nightfall. Perhaps humanely, punishment, in Roman justice, was inflicted at once.
But these were merely routine cases. The more important trials would come in the following week, culminating in the case of Rome versus Bar-Abbas. This was the major one, for which Pilate began preparing even now. Not that he had any doubt of Bar-Abbas’s guilt, but this trial would far and away attract more of Jerusalem than any of the other cases. The man on the street had already tried the political brigand, and was speculating only on whether the governor might devise some unusual means of executing him. Pilate’s problem would be to avoid that temptation, while showing Rome’s wrath at murderous insurgents like Bar-Abbas. On that occasion too, Pilate sensed, he would be judged by a fellow judge. Herod Antipas had just arrived in Jerusalem for the Pesach, as the Jews called their Passover, and he would hardly miss the opportunity of evaluating Pilate’s performance at the Bar-Abbas trial.
Late that night, Caiaphas’s servant Malchus appeared at the palace to deliver this note:
Joseph Caiaphas, High Priest, to Pontius
Pilatus, praefectus Iudaeae, Peace!
Were it not a matter of utmost urgency, involving the security of the state, I would not disturb you at this hour. Yeshu Hannosri, a deceiver and false prophet who has broken our Law on repeated occasions and whose heresy has been condemned by the Great Sanhedrin, is in Jerusalem for the Pesach. You must have noticed his great following, which could break out into seditious rioting at any moment. So dangerous is the situation that, although the Sanhedrin has issued warrants for his arrest, we have not dared apprehend him because of the people. Our decision now is to arrest Yeshu at night, when he will not be surrounded by supporters. A close adherent of his has defected and will inform us of his nocturnal whereabouts so that our temple guard may arrest him.