Pilate addressed the crowd, “Can anyone offer evidence favoring the defendant, Jesus?” A buzzing developed throughout the palace esplanade, which by now had filled with people.
“Louder, Prefect!” someone yelled.
“I said, can anyone offer testimony in defense of Jesus of Nazareth?”
Some hands, it seems, were waved at the edge of the crowd, while others were trying to make their way toward the tribunal in response to Pilate’s invitation. But so many in the multitude supported the prosecution that the few who seemed to venture forward were being jostled or blocked. Whenever a lone voice protested, “He is innocent!” a great chorus responded with the antiphon, “He is guilty!”
This was enough to steer Pilate’s sympathy toward the defenseless accused, though he was growing impatient with Jesus for refusing to say a word. Once more he called out, “Will anyone testify in behalf of Jesus?” The only reply was more growling from the mass assembly and several violent fist fights at the periphery. The mood was getting ugly.
“You see, Prefect, Yeshu Hannosri means trouble wherever he goes, even here at your tribunal,” Rabbi Jonathan argued. “The man is a born troublemaker. You know of the riot he caused in the temple just this past Monday: illegally, without any authority whatever, interrupting people at their worship by driving away their sacrifices! And in overturning the exchange tables with great financial loss to the temple, Yeshu is, in effect, a temple robber…Now, you may not feel concerned over what takes place inside our sanctuary, but this firebrand may one day upset your provincial finances in the same way. We’ve already cited his attitude toward the Roman tribute. But did you know that he lured a tax collector away from his profession? He’s now one of his disciples, a man named Matthew. Yet financial harm is as nothing compared to Yeshu’s role as political agitator. His teachings are inflaming the people throughout all Judea, starting from Galilee and spreading even as far as this city.”
Something in Jonathan’s summation caught Pilate’s attention. “Wait, Rabbi, did you say that Jesus began teaching in Galilee?”
“Yes…”
“What’s his home town?”
“He came from Nazareth, of course, but lately, I understand, he was lodging at Kephar Nahum.”
“Where?”
“A town on the Sea of Tiberias. You probably know it as Capernaum.”
“Both places are in Galilee. Are they not?”
“Yes…”
Pilate thought for several moments, then said, “The defendant, thus, is clearly a Galilean, and, as such, under the authority of the tetrarch Herod Antipas.” Pilate’s eyes brightened as he spoke. “And since Herod is in Jerusalem at this very moment, I think it eminently proper to remand this case to his jurisdiction.”
“But Prefect, surely this isn’t necessary,” Caiaphas objected. “The crimes committed by Yeshu Hannosri took place also in Judea. You would certainly have the legal right—”
“Thank you, noble Pontiff, but I need not be schooled on points of Roman law. Yes, I would have the legal prerogative to try this man in Judea as the forum delicti of his alleged crimes, the place of the offense. But yes, I also have the option of remanding this case to the jurisdiction of the sovereign of the accused, since Galilee is his forum domicilii, the place of residence. And I believe it most appropriate to bind the defendant over to his own tetrarch, particularly because your charges have religious implications within Jewish law which Herod Antipas could adjudicate far better than I.”
Caiaphas and Annas went into brief consultation with Helcias and other chief Sanhedrists, after which Ananias said, “Very well, Prefect, we shall accept adjudication by Herod the Tetrarch, if he is willing.”
Pilate then announced officially, “This court takes no action in the case of Jesus of Nazareth. This tribunal is adjourned.”
While temple heralds instructed the crowd to proceed immediately to the Hasmonean palace, where Antipas was lodging, Pilate stood up from his curule chair, walked off the dais, and entered his palace with a sense of victory. He was enormously pleased with himself. The change of venue rid him of a sticky case involving a probably innocent man whom it would have been wrong to convict, and yet dangerous to acquit, in view of the Sanhedrin’s attitude. It was also a bit of diplomacy toward Herod Antipas, who could not fail to recognize this as an olive branch in their perennial feud. It was like saying, “You stabbed me in the back in the shields affair, Antipas, but that’s history now. In transferring this case, you can see my consideration for the Jews. So quit stirring up the lion on Capri.” Pilate quaffed some wine, then returned to judge the cases awaiting him.
The Hasmonean palace lay due east of the Herodian, about two-thirds of the distance to the temple, and the leaders of the Sanhedrin argued strategy while marching in front of their manacled prisoner en route to seeing Antipas. Several suggested that it might be more difficult to get a conviction from the tetrarch, since his hands were already stained with the Baptizer’s blood and he might not wish to redden them again with that of another so-called prophet. Antipas had not wanted John killed, and might now choose to defend the Nazarene as a fellow Galilean. After all, he had not arrested Yeshu during his three years of teaching in Galilee, though he had threatened to.
But Caiaphas countered confidently, “Antipas has shown much more sensitivity to our laws than Pilate. Undoubtedly he’ll convict Yeshu with the same fine cooperation he showed us in the case of the golden shields.”
Since the tetrarch had few official duties to perform in Jerusalem and was largely on vacation, he and Herodias were entertaining their relatives Philip and Salome at a leisurely breakfast when a courier brought news of the imminent arraignment. While Antipas had learned of Jesus’ arrest, this development caught him off guard and he hastily prepared for the hearing. But he was pleased with the turn of events, since he had wanted to meet Jesus for some months. Even before he had finished grooming himself, a mass of people was pressing against the gates of the Hasmonean palace. Officialdom, the Sanhedrin and its prisoner, and a few representatives of the people were allowed into the atrium of the palace, but much of the throng had to wait outside because of limited space.
While Herodias, Philip, and Salome watched from the wings, Antipas mounted his tetrarch’s throne and ordered the hearing to begin. The priestly plaintiffs produced political charges similar to those raised before Pilate, but this time they did not demur at introducing also the religious issues which had led to Jesus’ conviction before the Sanhedrin.
Antipas listened intently to the accusation, then startled everyone by his unorthodox procedure. Turning to the chief priests, he said, “Thank you, honored Rabbis, for your presentation of the case. Actually I’m quite familiar with the charges against Yeshu Hannosri, but I’ve never yet had the occasion to meet him.” Then, in an almost kindly tone, he addressed the prisoner, “Yeshu, will you step forward?”
For several moments Antipas studied the manacled figure in front of him. Then he said, “I’ve wanted to see you for some time. You’ve been given credit for certain…rather magnificent exploits, especially in our Galilee. I wish I could have witnessed some of them.”
Antipas noticed that the plaintiffs were looking uneasy, even alarmed at his gentle treatment of the prisoner. Jesus himself showed no reaction, but continued gazing into Antipas’s eyes.
“Several times I looked for you in Galilee,” the tetrarch continued. “You probably thought I meant you harm, but I didn’t. I only wanted to see a prophet for myself. If, indeed, that’s what you are. John the Baptizer was supposed to be a prophet, but he didn’t perform any miracles. And yet you can, I understand. Well, I’ve never seen a miracle. Why not show us one now?”