The Master's Quilt (11 page)

“The Galilean was no more the Son of God than
you or I—perhaps less, considering all his heresies. Indeed, if he
were what he claimed to be, then why were his teachings not of God?
If His teachings were true, then God’s must be wrong. At the very
least, absent are those perfections in Him that are evidenced by
the names that comprise the holy name of
JEHOVAH
.

“Had we allowed the man to continue teaching
his falsehoods, we would have, in effect, been saying to the
Romans—indeed to all the world—that the Hebrew God is without any
power but that which his subjects allow him to exercise.

“We would render Him incapable of the
perfection that is worthy of our honor and obedience, demonstrating
to the world that we are not a people to be taken seriously. In
effect, we say to the world: ‘Our religion has no authority behind
it, or power in it.’”

Here he sighed heavily, as if purging himself
of a terrible burden. “It would not have been long before our
nation’s bulwark against the rampant moral pollution infecting the
world would have deteriorated into nothingness. We would be left
unprotected against the madness and decadence of the heathen
population engulfing us. More importantly, not only would the way
to heaven be blocked off for all Jews, but we would also be cut off
from the very God who has delivered us from our captivity in the
past. Who then, would deliver us from our present enslavement?

“Had we followed the teachings of Jesus, we
would be required to love our enemies and accept the domination of
our people.” Caiaphas became incredulous. “Is it not enough that we
are required against our will to support their wretched conquest
and enslavement of the world with the taxes we give like blood to
Caesar? The man would have had us believe it matters not who rules
or governs, saying that it is better to convert the Romans than
have them as enemies. It would not be hard to imagine His being an
agent of the Romans, employed to keep the Jews in submission to
their tyrannical rule, were it not that the Romans, too, feared His
seditious behavior.

“Most assuredly, you men of the priesthood
must realize that the more divided we become, the more the Romans
see an excuse to slaughter us and confiscate our property and
possessions. If we become cut off from our God, so too are our
forefathers—who obeyed God in all His ordinances, who had faith in
His promises, and praised the triumphs of holy living for more than
three hundred and fifty generations—are cutoff.”

Caiaphas paused. The hall was silent, but he
was not quite finished with his audience. “I give you one final
thought to ponder. What will become of our children. . .and our
children’s children. . .and their children, if we do not keep the
hedge in good repair?”

At the far back corner of the hall, deep in
the shadows, a pair of gray-blue eyes watched the proceedings in
fascination. No one in the huge room had seen him. He willed the
shadows to wrap themselves about him and held his breath. He had
come too far to steal away now. No, he must watch the drama below
him play out, knowing full well that if he was caught, he would die
on the spot.

D
oras looked around
the Great Hall.

The Council had steadily warmed up to the
High Priest’s presentation.

If he were going to maintain the support of
those he had so meticulously courted these past few weeks, he would
have to act soon and with decisiveness. He was walking a taut rope.
If he were going to defeat Caiaphas, and block Annas from filling
the void left by his son-in-law’s demise, he would have to be every
bit as strong as David and act with the wisdom of Solomon.
Otherwise, he might end up just like Saul—a crazed madman, bereft
of power, dignity, and his God.

When one risks as much as I am risking, it
is wise to wait for the perfect moment to strike
, he thought
smugly.
After all, David slew Goliath with but one stone.
As
he concentrated on what Caiaphas was saying, his eyes narrowed with
cunning.

“Perhaps the greatest insult Jesus indulged
in was his attack upon the holy Temple of God,” said the High
Priest pointedly, following up his earlier train of thought. “He
ignored the holy Temple as a place of worship, and even went so far
as to accuse the priests, who diligently serve God on a daily
basis, of being a ‘den of thieves.’”

There were rumblings of assent from the
audience.

“Is there a man here today who doesn’t
believe that the holy Temple was built under the direction of God
himself? I think not. We in the priesthood understand all too well
that the house of God is a place of refuge—a haven where men can
hide from the turbulence of persecution and sin.
All
men may
come and be blessed, clothe their naked souls, feed their hungry
bodies, and learn the wisdom of Almighty God.”

“In short, my brothers, the holy Temple is
the focus of our entire relationship with our God. It is the cement
that binds Jews together. It is the grandest of all the grand gifts
from our Father. Yet, the Nazarene scoffed at the Temple. And with
a pettiness common to those who would seek to usurp rightful
authority to gain favor for their own personal beliefs and
doctrines, He insisted that the Temple would be destroyed—almost as
if He would be glad to see such an occurrence and raised up by
Himself in three days.”

Caiaphas smiled. The looks he saw on the
faces before him made it clear that he had not lost his skills of
persuasion.
I am like the great Leviathan of the ocean
, he
thought. I
have no fear of my enemies; they are impotent against
me.

His moment of private, prideful exaltation
was cut short, however, as the memory of his dream intruded into
his thoughts. Suddenly his mouth was as dry as the sand of the
Negev. In the space of a heartbeat, it was as if a blistering
summer wind swept through his spirit, like a Syrian
sirocco
sweeping in off the desert, scalding his soul.

He gasped as a quiet, firm Voice inside him
said, “Remember Job. . .and be not deceived.” He scrutinized the
faces staring at him expectantly and realized that no one but
himself had heard the rebuke. Flustered, he gathered the bulk of
his priestly apparel about him, like a shepherd gathering together
his flock, and regained his composure.

Until this moment he had directed his
statements to the Council in general. Now, it was time to reach
down deep into the hearts of the Pharisees and, like Gideon, strike
a decisive and conclusive blow in the heart of the enemy camp where
Doras had found succor and encouragement.

The Pharisees, being primarily merchants and
tradesmen in the business community, had no formal education in the
interpretation of the Scripture. They relied heavily upon
professional scholars, the scribes, for their information regarding
legal tradition. This led to an attitude of excessive rigidity and
intolerance especially where the practical application of the Law
was concerned. To the Pharisees, the orthodoxy of the Sadducees was
a cumbersome weight inhibiting spiritual growth. Consequently, the
emphasis of their teaching was the ethical rather than the
theological aspects of the Scriptures.

He intended to pluck at that ethical cord by
appealing to that side of their personalities which led them to
champion human equality. At the same time he intended to portray
Jesus as a man who would have eliminated their oral
tradition—destroying the “hedge” against unbelief—and as one who
viewed them as “vipers,” unfit for salvation.

“Who among you would deny the fact that
should the Temple be removed or forsaken by the Jews our nation
would be destroyed utterly, disappearing in the blink of an
historical eye?” he asked as he lifted both arms and spread them
wide. The resplendent colors of his robe shimmered in the subdued,
dusty light of the hall.

Annas’ eyes darted back and forth between
Simon, Caiaphas, and Doras.

Caiaphas saw the looks and realized that his
father-in-law was fascinated by his unorthodox approach. Even
though Annas’ face remained stolid, his mind was no doubt racing as
he tried to unravel the mystery his son-in-law had set before the
Council.

“We have endured hardship and slavery our
entire lives,” continued Caiaphas, “but we have never been alone,
without God as our guide. I ask you, if there were no Temple, what
then of the priesthood? How would our people know that which is
right in the sight of God? It is only our religious tradition that
separates us from the idolatrous worship of the unrighteous.

“Is there one among you who would advocate
returning to the idolatry of the time of Noah? No, I think not,” he
answered and shook his head balefully, inwardly, congratulating
himself. As a silkworm weaves silk from ingesting dead and decaying
mulberry leaves, he too had constructed his own silken net of
rhetoric from the mulch of information he had gathered on the
Galilean. And now it was time to draw tight his finely woven web of
logic and reason around the minds and hearts of the Council.

“Before I conclude, I offer one final point.
Scripture tells us that there can be but one God. The Nazarene’s
contention that He, too, was God, that He was the Son of the Most
High God, not only is incompatible with reason, but with our
religion as well. God’s Holy Word tells us unequivocally that He is
the One Living God: ‘I am the Lord your God, which have brought you
out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. . .The Lord
your God is one God; there can be no other.’”

“Whenever Israel has turned away from her
God, the people have suffered. As long as we have kept His
commandments and have not given ourselves over to idolatrous
worship, we have not succumbed to the pollutions of the world. God,
through the mouth of Moses and now, I might humbly add, through my
mouth as High Priest, has warned us what would happen if we did not
abide under the protection of the Law: utter desolation. Who among
you would deny that the history of our people has borne witness to
the words that Moses spoke so long ago?”

Silence filled the great hall, punctuating
his point.

“In summary, let me remind you that as priest
of the Most High God I am charged by God Himself with the upholding
of the holy ordinances of our blessed religion. God gave the Law to
us that Israel might secure salvation and escape the penalty of
spiritual death reserved for those who forsake Him, the One who
created all. I could not stand by idly while an imposter sought to
pervert all that is good, pure, and righteous before God, having
only the authority of John the Baptist, who himself could give no
authority, save the One who sent him to baptize.

“It was I who stood between our God and our
people, being made responsible for the protection of our blessed
doctrines and the preservation of our government. If I have erred,
it is for God to judge. Not man. If Jesus was who He claimed to be,
then I accomplished God’s holy purpose and cannot be held
accountable for His death.”

The recitation was finished. The meeting had
been called to order in mid-afternoon, but by now the sun had set
and candles had been lit in the great hall by the scribes in order
that they might continue recording all that transpired. Three of
these specially educated men were present. One was seated on the
right of where Caiaphas had positioned himself, and it was his
responsibility to record the arguments upon which acquittal was
grounded, as well as those judges who voted for the same. On the
left sat the scribe who was responsible for recording those
arguments in favor of condemnation and the judges who supported
such a position. The third scribe sat in the center of the hall,
keeping an account of the entire proceeding, with his record
serving as a check and balance for the other two. In case of
dispute or a contention of error, his record overrode the
independent records of the other two.

Caiaphas had presented his argument well, and
it was to his credit that the silence among the members of the
Council was not broken for several minutes.

Doras had not taken his eyes off of Caiaphas
during the whole time he had been speaking. He had, near the very
end of the speech, begun to waver in his certainty that tonight
would be his opportunity to outfox the fox. However, to his great
relief he realized with a flash of insight that the High Priest had
indeed shown his weak spot. He smiled to himself, the glint his
brown eyes like the sparkle of light reflecting off the cold steel
of an assassin’s dagger, and then stood to his feet. The light in
the great hall gave his skin a gray pallor, so that at first glance
he appeared to be but a specter of a man.

He clapped his hands together in a cadenced
fashion and the sudden sound reverberated off the polished marble
walls. The act of defiance was a parody of applause, and it sliced
through the silence, stunning the members of the Council.

“I commend you, Joseph,” he said insincerely,
making his way to the front of the hall. “It seems you have
regained the ability to humble your audience with your words. One
might even liken the ability to that of the cobra—the snake that
flattens its neck into a hood-like form when disturbed or
threatened, thus distracting its intended prey before striking with
its lethal venom.”

He knew he had their attention; he had
managed, by virtue of precise timing and execution, to appropriate
the momentum of Caiaphas’ climax and divert command of the audience
into his hands.

The left scribe began to record his words
after a moment of phlegmatic inertness.

“In spite of your eloquence, I for one am not
convinced.” He paused upon reaching the speaker’s position, then
turned to face the Council, keeping his back to Caiaphas.
“Especially since you neglected to mention the issue of the
validity
of Jesus’ arraignment before you on the evening of
His arrest,” he added, implying that Caiaphas had neglected to deal
with the salient issue of legality.