The Gospel According to the Son

45

They took me to the house of Caiaphas, the High Priest, and it was a large house. At the other end of a long hall, a fire had been kindled, and there, followers of the High Priest sat together. I could see that Peter, having stolen after me, now sat among them warming himself by the fire.

The men who held me put a blindfold over my eyes. And as soon as that was done, one of these fellows slapped me on the face. Then several said: "Tell us who struck you. Prophesy!"

Another, whom I could not see, left his spit on my cheek.

Then came the priests and the elders and some of the council of the Sanhedrin. I knew false witnesses would accompany them. Soon, two men told the High Priest that I had said, "I will destroy this Temple, and within three days I will build another." Yet they did not agree on whether I had said I would use my own hands or would rebuild the Temple without hands.

Caiaphas, the High Priest, now ordered my blindfold to be removed. He was a tall man, and his white beard was worthy of a prophet. He stood in the midst of the others and asked gently: "Will you reply to my questions?"

I did not answer. My silence must have seemed insolent, for this High Priest Caiaphas then said: "I adjure you by the Living God to tell us whether you are Christ, the Son of God, our Messiah."

He had adjured me. I could not swear a false oath to the High Priest of my people; no, not even if I was the Son of God and thereby, by half, superior to any priest. So I said, "I am what you say." These words might as well have come from the sky. They seemed far away from me even as I said them.

He did not seem surprised. With deliberation, the High Priest tore his robes and said, "We need no witnesses. All of you have heard this blasphemy."

And in ripping his garment Caiaphas had declared to all that I had no claim to be the Son of the Father; no, I was a son of the Jews. This son had committed so great a sacrilege that he, the High Priest, had had to rend his clothes. By the common bond of our people's blood, I was his offspring. Condemned by him, I was now to be mourned as dead.

The guards beat upon me. These words by Caiaphas had removed all fear that I might yet bear witness against mistreatment. So they felt free to beat my face.

I could still see Peter. He remained on a bench at the other end of the hall, and when a servant came up to him and asked, "Were you not one of those who was with Yeshua of Nazareth in the Temple?" Peter said, "I don't understand what you say."

But, at once, he left her and went out onto the porch, even though the night was cold. There, another maid saw him and said: "This is one of them."

Again he denied me. "Woman," he told her, "I do not know him."

A man came up and said to Peter: "Aren't you one of his people? Your speech has the sound of Galilee."

Peter declared: "I do not know this man of whom you speak."

It was then that the cock crowed. It was night, not morning, but the cock crowed. In that moment, Peter recalled what I had said.

He left the porch. He was weeping. He wept. Peter's sorrow passed over to me, but, suddenly, like the point of a lance. He would spend his life offering amends for this hour when he had denied me thrice before the cock crowed once.

The High Priest Caiaphas departed with the elders of the Sanhedrin. And I was thrown into a small dungeon, where I was kept through the night and, unable to sleep, considered what I might do. No matter that Judas had betrayed me; he had also warned me. And now I needed his counsel. It was he, of all my disciples, who had been the wisest in explaining how our priests went about arranging matters with the Romans. So I knew that in the morning, much would depend on the nature of the agreement entered into between Caiaphas and the Procurator of Judea.

Judas had spoken often of these two men and how they kept peace in Jerusalem. Pontius Pilate allowed his soldiers to commit no insolence against the Great Temple, and Caiaphas tolerated no orthodox burial for those Jews who died in attacks upon Roman soldiers.

Thereby they maintained order. The Romans kept belief, as such pagans would, in their own Roman destiny. Whereas the Jews believed in one God, One, more powerful than all pagan gods and demons. On other matters there was much accord between Caiaphas and Pontius Pilate. As Judas had told it to me, the Roman Procurator received gold in secret from the Temple; this made for much difference in the way he treated Jews. In his first year of governing Judea, Pontius Pilate had committed the mistake of displaying the Roman eagle upon the standards of his garrison in the holy city. That was idolatry, and a demonstration commenced against Pontius Pilate. A great number of Jews gathered outside his residence and refused to leave. They were soon encircled by Pilate's legions and ordered to depart or to die. But none of these Jews would take a step. Pilate had to give way. He removed the Roman eagle from the standards of the legions. The Jews had not only been brave but knowing. They had divined that Pilate did not wish to disturb his superiors in Rome by a war at the beginning of his command as Procurator. Now he had ruled over Judea for more than five years, and peace had been preserved, even if he still conducted his affairs with a daily fear of revolt. Caiaphas had been High Priest for more than ten years. The sum of his agreement with Pontius Pilate was that he also abhorred an uprising. So said Judas, who had seldom been hesitant to show his dissatisfaction with me because I was not willing to lead a revolt. Before the Jews could come to know the brotherhood of man, they must be free of the Romans, Judas had said. That was the only way, he declared to all of us, that the Jews could be free of the shame that kept them apart, some few rich, so many poor, and all subservient to the Romans. Yes, he was furious when I told him that I wished to bring my people to my Father, and that was all I wanted. I had told him this more than once on our journey to Jerusalem, and indeed, I was innocent of any urge to rebel against the eagle of these pagans. But then, I did not feel subservient to the Romans. They might hold us in their grip here on earth but they were as nothing compared to the Kingdom of Heaven.

Could this be cause for hope? That I did not wish to be a leader of a revolt? Already my limbs had begun to brood upon their misery, and the bruises on my face were swollen. This dungeon was blacker than the night.