The Testimonium (19 page)

“Josh!” Isabella said with great concern. “What on earth?”

He could not speak. Somehow he was seated on the floor, although he had no memory of his legs giving out. He opened his mouth two or three times, and then gave up trying to get any words out. He simply pointed a trembling finger at the scroll lying on the tray. Father MacDonald looked through the magnifying glass and read the inscription
.
“
Testimonium Pontii Pilati Procuratoris Iudaeae
,”
he read. “‘The Testimony of Pontius Pilate, Governor of Judea.’”

Isabella paled. Rossini and Apriceno simply stared at each other in shock.

“Holy Christ!” said Father MacDonald. It was not an expletive but a prayer.

I was not pleased when my legionaries brought the Galilean back to me. As I had ordered, they had not killed him, but they had come very close. His back was scored to the bone in places, and they had placed an old purple robe over his shoulders and a crown of poisonous Galilean thorn branches upon his head. The soldiers hate the Jews, of course—this is not a choice posting for a hard-drinking, hard fighting Roman man—and given a chance to humiliate one of them, the men had taken full advantage of it, leaving the Nazarene a bloodied wreck. But, I thought, perhaps I could play Jesus’ pitiful condition to my own advantage. I led him back out onto the porch of the Praetorium and shoved him in front of me, giving the mob a good view. “Ecce homo!” I shouted. Some of the crowd cried out in pity, but the priests once again took up that hateful cry: “Crucify! Crucify!”

I held up my hands for silence. For the life of me I did not know what to do. This man had an enormous following. If I put him to death, would the common people who loved him rise up in open revolt? But if I spared him, the ruling class, whose cooperation is so vital to our government here, would be turned against me, perhaps permanently. What to do?

I thought of something. Raising my hands for silence, I cried out, “People of Jerusalem, you know that it is my custom to release one prisoner to you during your Passover each year. This year, I give you a choice. Shall I release this Jesus of Nazareth, your king?” I laced my voice with sarcasm, trying to throw scorn on the very idea that this wretched figure could ever be considered royalty. “Or shall I release to you the murderer Bar-Abbas?”

Once more the crowd roared. “Bar-Abbas! Bar-Abbas!” they cried.

A half hour had passed. Both scrolls had been deposited, seals intact, inside a rehydration tank, where the ancient papyrus could be rendered supple enough to unroll. Josh sat quietly at a table near the end of the trailer, staring into space. Few words had been spoken, as the magnitude of the find they had made was still soaking in. After setting the controls on each tank to the proper levels, Father MacDonald came and sat across from Josh. Within a few moments, the entire team had taken a seat around the table. Even Dr. Apriceno had left her microscopes behind for the time being.

“I don’t understand,” said Isabella to Josh when she joined the group. “Having a written document from the hand of Pontius Pilate is something of great significance, but why did you nearly pass out when you saw it?”

“Because I think I know what it is,” said Josh. “Don’t you, Professor MacDonald?”

The priest nodded. “It certainly would make sense for it to be there. I cannot imagine any other event from that time, in Judea, that would merit being placed in the Emperor’s most confidential files.”

“What are you talking about?” Isabella demanded. Then it dawned on her. “Do you mean that you think this is—Pilate’s report about . . .”

“The crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth,” said Josh. He quoted a Latin passage: “‘
Atque haec forte potes cognoscere Actuum Pontio Pilatus
.’ Justin Martyr wrote that to the Emperor Antoninus Pius around 140 AD. The traditional translation is: ‘And that these things did happen, you can ascertain from the Acts of Pontius Pilate.’ Apparently it was known to the early church that Pilate made a report to Rome about the events surrounding the death of Jesus, and that his narrative supported their claims about those events.”

“But how can you be so sure that this is that report?” she asked. “Couldn’t it be something else entirely?”

“That is a possibility,” said Father MacDonald. “However, I can’t think of any other event that occurred during Pilate’s ten years as governor that would merit the Emperor’s interest to this degree.”

Josh nodded. “There is also that curious reference by Tertullian,” he said.

Isabella gave him a blank look. “I know who Tertullian was,” she said, “but I don’t remember any reference that would apply here.”

Josh explained, “In one of his writings, dated to about 180 AD, Tertullian says that Tiberius proposed to the Senate that Jesus of Nazareth be recognized as a god, and that a statue of him be added to the Roman pantheon. Most scholars have dismissed the story due to lack of any earlier reference to such an event, but it could have its roots in Tiberius having read and been impressed by Pilate’s report about Jesus.”

She nodded. “This is a discovery of enormous significance,” she said. “I need to call Dr. Guioccini and let him know about it. I imagine that the Antiquities Bureau is going to want to make the call on how we deal with this find.”

“I think that I will need to report this to the Vatican as well,” said MacDonald.

“What about our press release?” asked Josh. “Aren’t we supposed to do some sort of press conference tomorrow?”

“I imagine that, from this point forward, those decisions may be made well above our pay grade,” said Dr. Apriceno.

“I think that this should be a conference call,” said Isabella. “I want all of you available to answer questions and give opinions.” She patched her laptop into the lab’s main computer and dialed in the number. A moment later Dr. Guioccini answered, and when she told him what she wanted, his face appeared on the jumbo monitor a few seconds later.

“All right, Isabella,” he said. “I know you would not waste my time with something unimportant, so tell me—what have you found? I’ve already seen the pictures you sent of the sword, and received your email about the scrolls that were destroyed by rats. I’m guessing you have opened the locked compartment?”

“That is correct. Within the last hour or so. The compartment contained two undamaged scrolls, both still sealed with the signet of Tiberius Caesar,” explained Isabella.

“Marvelous!” the lead archeologist beamed. “But there is more—the look on your face makes that very clear. So continue!”

Isabella swallowed. “Both scrolls have a written title that appears to match the handwriting on the Tiberius letter, scrawled on the outside of each roll just above the seal. One is called ‘The Last Will and Testament of Caesar Augustus.’”

“Bravissimo, Isabella!” exclaimed Guioccini. “That is an incredible find! This is a great day for archeology, for Roman history, for all of Italy!” He paused, studying her face through the satellite uplink. “There is more still?” he finally asked.

“Yes, sir,” she said. “The second scroll is also labeled. The title recorded on it reads ‘The Testimony of Pontius Pilate, Governor of Judea.’”

The lead archeologist of Italy’s Bureau of Antiquities paled. “You are quite certain of this?” he finally asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Is there any possibility, in your professional opinion, that this chamber was tampered with between the time of Tiberius and today?” he asked.

“I don’t see any way, sir!” she said. “We have followed proper procedure from start to finish, and everything in the chamber was buried under centuries of stone dust. The only thing that has breached that chamber since the first century were those cursed rats!”

He thought for a long time. Finally, he spoke. “Have all the artifacts been removed from the chamber?”

“Yes, sir. The reliquary was the last item to be removed,” said Isabella.

“Very well. Secure all the artifacts in the mobile lab, inform the guards to keep an extra careful watch, and make sure that two of you stay on-site for the evening. I am going to call every member of the Bureau’s governing board and we will be on Capri tomorrow morning to see the finds in person. Father MacDonald, I want you to inform the Vatican of this discovery and tell His Holiness that he may send an emissary of his choosing to attend the meeting as well. After we have viewed the site and the artifacts, we will need to have a sit-down meeting to discuss how to proceed, and how and when to release this information to the public. Dr. Rossini, can your house accommodate a meeting of about fifteen people?”

“Yes, sir,” said Giuseppe, “although it will be somewhat cozy.”

“Excellent! I am pleased to have such an excellent team working on this incredible discovery. I do not need to remind any of you just how important this find is. The other artifacts were amazing, but this has the potential to be earth-shaking! Absolute confidentiality is needed. I imagine one of our first orders of business will be to remove all the artifacts you have found from the island to our new research facility for further study. Until then, keep up the security, continue to catalog and analyze the damaged scrolls, and I will see all of you in the morning.” He leaned forward to touch a button on his monitor, and the screen went blank on their end. The five archeologists looked at each other.

“Well,” said Josh. “Who is good at jigsaw puzzles?”

They spent the balance of the afternoon laying out the hundreds of fragments they had brought out from the chamber the day before. It was tedious and frustrating work, with moments of exhilaration when they found two pieces that actually matched. But none of them could keep from stealing over to the rehydration tank every little while to look at the two sealed scrolls. What lay inside those ancient rolls of papyrus? What impact would it have? Being in the presence of so much historical suspense sucked much of the air out of the room; the jokes and jibes that had been a part of their banter up to this moment were banished. Finally, about six in the evening, Giuseppe had had enough.

“This is ridiculous!” he said. “I have tried to piece the same pair of scraps together six times! None of us are focused on our work, so I suggest we have supper and retire.”

“Don’t forget that more than one of us needs to stay up here tonight,” said Isabella. “A little break for supper is fine, but I don’t want the site unattended for more than a couple of hours, even with the security guards here.”

Josh spoke up. “Would you like me to stay up here with you?” he asked.

She considered it a moment. She could see Giuseppe winking at her out of the corner of her eye, but dash it all! She enjoyed the young American’s company, and also trusted him to be professional. “That is all right with me,” she finally said. “But first some supper and a bit of time to clean up!”

They walked down the hill together as the shadows began to lengthen. Their conversation was less ebullient and humorous than the night before, but all of them were gripped with excitement at the thought of viewing a first-hand written account of the most pivotal event in history. Josh asked MacDonald how long before they could begin to unroll and read the scrolls.

“I imagine that if we break the seals within forty-eight hours of placing them in the tank, the scrolls will start to unroll a bit within the next day or so. It can be a long and tedious process. We usually are able to expose no more than about ten or fifteen centimeters of the scroll at a time. The Pilate scroll appears to be perhaps two meters in length. One thing I have learned about papyrus scrolls is that no two are alike. Some unroll fairly easily once rehydrated; others are very, very stubborn. I would say that it might be anywhere from two to ten days before we should be able to read the entire contents of each scroll from beginning to end.”

“Can you imagine the reaction when we reveal this find to the world?” asked Giuseppe.

“I think the reaction will depend, to a great extent, on the contents,” said Josh.

“What do you mean?” asked Isabella.

“Within intellectual circles throughout the West, there is a great hostility to Christianity in modern thought,” replied the young American. “If this document is what we think it is, and the account confirms the New Testament narrative, there will be a large segment of the intelligentsia in Europe and the United States who will denounce it as a fraud and do their best to debunk it.”

“Don’t forget the Islamic world,” said Father MacDonald. “It is an article of faith for them that the ‘Prophet Isa,’ as they call our Lord, was ‘neither crucified nor killed, but it only had the appearance of it,’ according to the Quran. If this narrative calls that into question, there will be opposition from them too.”

“And, of course,” said Giuseppe, “if this account disputes any of the claims of the New Testament, many Christians will clamor that it must be faked as well.”

“You may be right,” said Joshua.

They ate a quick supper at Rossini’s house, ordering out from Mrs. Bustamante’s excellent menu, and everyone took advantage of real toilet facilities to clean up, wash off, and shave. After a brief confab and an agreement that all of them would be on-site by seven AM, Joshua and Isabella walked up the Via Tiberio back to the ancient ruin where they had met and spend so much time together over the course of the week. As they walked together, Isabella asked a question that she had been turning over in her mind ever since the earlier conversation between the team on the way down to supper.

“Josh,” she said. “What will you do—if this is the account of Jesus’ trial, and it contradicts the narrative your entire faith is based on?”

“I have been thinking about that ever since I read that inscription,” he said. “I’ll say this first—I really don’t expect it to contradict the Gospel accounts. Why would Justin Martyr appeal to Pilate’s report if it didn’t back up what he was saying? It would be too risky to do so if the report contained information that was harmful to the Christian cause. But, if the
Testimonium
should contradict what is in the Scriptures, I would analyze its contents very carefully. I would see if Pilate was speaking from his convictions as a Roman or from first-hand testimony. If everything stood rock solid against my beliefs, I would, well—I’m not sure. I would take a long hard look at my beliefs, but I am not sure that I would abandon them altogether.”