Final Confrontation (42 page)

“Peter, you cannot do this by the sword,” He said, rebuking him. He then touched Malchius’ ear and healed him, restoring it. “This shall not be overcome with violence.” He turned to the men who were to take Him. “Although, if I wanted, I could command twelve legions of angels to destroy you with great violence!”

Michael and Gabriel stood nearby, watching it all.

“Can’t we do anything?” Michael asked. “Will the Lord simply give up?”

“He knows we are here,” said Gabriel. “But His is a greater mission than that which would involve mere angels.”

The disciples followed the arresting party down the mountain. They were silent and devastated. Only Simon the Zealot managed to say to Peter, “And you thought I would use my sword heatedly?”

Peter didn’t say a word.

“I ask You again, are You the Son of God?”

Jesus looked at the high priest. In the room were several of his high-ranking priests and Pharisees. Jesus was bound at His wrists, and showed signs of bruises and cuts from having been handled roughly on the trip to the home of the high priest. One of the men present, a priest named Ethan, who was a friend to Nicodemus, was concerned about the highly irregular nature of the proceedings.

“I have told you,” said Jesus, panting for breath. “I sat with you in the Temple; I taught in the open. I did nothing in secret. Everything I have said you have heard. What more do you want of Me?”

Jesus’ answer was met with a stinging slap from one of the priests.

“How dare You answer the high priest like that?”

Lucifer, Kara, and Berenius were in the room watching it all with great delight. They were amazed at how quickly things had gone badly for Jesus. The slap echoed loudly.

“Slapping the Most High,” said Kara. “Now that is something unheard of!”

“They hate Him,” said Berenius. “I have been with them a while now. They are jealous of His hold over the people. There will be more than a slap in the face before this is all over.”

“I’m counting on it,” agreed Lucifer. “The religion of all men eventually degrades into law and death. It is how this game will be won.

The chill air of the evening seemed even colder as Peter stomped his feet to warm himself. John actually managed to go into the house with Jesus, but Peter preferred to stay outside. He stood near the gate of the house of the high priest. From time to time, he could hear raised voices coming from within.

“You there,” came a voice. It was the girl who kept the door for the high priest.

“Yes,” said Peter.

“Aren’t you one of the men who came with Jesus?” she asked.

“Of course not!” said Peter, walking away.

“May I have a word with you, Zichri,” said Ethan.

“What, now?” said Zichri, trying to hear the interrogation.

“It is urgent.”

Zichri sighed, moving to the other side of the room. He never trusted Ethan. He found him too agreeable with the populace. Besides, he was a friend of Nicodemus, whose loyalties were going to be investigated as well, once the matter of Jesus was settled. Zichri bowed his head courteously.

“Zichri, I know you have nothing in your heart except for the good of our nation,” Ethan began.

“Of course,” said Zichri, as another slap across the face sounded in the room.

“For the record, I am concerned about the… legality of these proceedings,” Ethan continued. “The nature of this is extraordinary. A trial at night? Clearly a violation of law! There is no legal mandate here. And these proceedings were instigated through the efforts of this fellow, Judas. That clearly violates our rabbinical tradition that every detail of such an arrest be handled by us…”

“Ethan, my friend…”

The men, warming their hands at the fire, whispered among themselves as they looked at Peter. He was sitting there, finally getting warm on this long night. He noticed the men looking at him but said nothing.

“What is He like?” asked a man stirring the coals.

“What is who like?” Peter responded, suspiciously.

“Jesus, your Master.” “He is not my Master!”

“You came in with Him, didn’t you?” asked another man.

“No!” said Peter, standing up. “I am not one of His men!”

“There was no lawful warrant in the hands of the arresting officer,” Ethan pleaded, “only that piece of paper on which he had scratched the name of Jesus. He has not been arraigned before the Sanhedrin; no formal charges have been lodged…”

A few of the priests in the room could hear Ethan talking and had turned their heads to listen. Zichri ushered Ethan out of earshot.

“Even these dubious witnesses cannot agree on their story,” he continued. “One fellow says he overheard Jesus say He was able to destroy the Temple. The other said that He
would
destroy the Temple. The testimony does not agree…”

“Ethan…”

“I order You by the Living God,” boomed the voice of the high priest. “Tell me if You are the Son of God!”

“And that!” said Ethan pointing. “The High Priest is supposedly a protector until the charges have been proven. He is not to prosecute.”

“Are you the Son of God?” Caiaphas demanded.

“Yes,” said Jesus. “It is true. Just as you have said.”

“Blasphemy!” cried Caipaphas, turning to the others in the room. “He is guilty of blasphemy and therefore has condemned Himself to death!”

The other priests agreed with the verdict.

“Wait!” shouted Ethan. “The law provides that we wait one full day before pronouncing judgment! This Man cannot be sentenced lawfully.”

Caiaphas and the others looked at Ethan. Zichri turned to the man and coaxed him along. “Come with me Ethan.”

“These are desperate times, Ethan,” said Caiaphas. “They require extraordinary measures. Zichri will explain all this to you.”

Zichri nodded and took Ethan, still protesting, away from the council.

“And now, what do we do with Him?” asked Achish.

“The law prescribes stoning,” said a priest.

“Yes,” said Caiaphas. “Our law does require that. But Roman law requires that all death sentences be cleared through them.”

He considered for a moment.

“We haven’t much time,” he said finally. “We must settle this before the Sabbath. I don’t want to hold Him any longer than needed in this city. He has too many friends here. Take Him to Pilate. Zichri!”

Zichri came back in without Ethan.

“Ethan understands now why this trial was necessary,” he said. “I explained to him, should Jesus be allowed to live, it was quite possible the Romans would bring an end to us all—including our families.”

“Forget about him,” said Caiaphas. “Take these charges and this blasphemer to Pilate. Tell him we await his instructions.”

“At this hour?”

Zichri took the charges in his hand.

“And tell him we will be grateful for a speedy disposition of the matter.”

Zichri nodded and motioned Ashich to follow him. The guards hustled Jesus outside.

Caiaphas watched as they left. On the floor were drops of blood from the cuts on Jesus’ face made during the questioning.

“Get that filthy mess off my floor,” he ordered a servant. “I will not have the blood of a blasphemer staining my house!”

Peter had moved to the side of the house, near a seldom-used entrance. A man followed him into the alley. He was scrutinizing Peter in the dim light of the early morning sun, just breaking over the horizon.