Fifth Gospel(135)

Caiaphas looked around him and Cassius could only guess that his look was a warning to those who might dare to say a good thing.

‘I will speak!’ said a man. ‘My name is Nicodemus. I am an elder of the Temple. I told the priests, why do you contend with this man? He shows many wondrous signs, which no man has shown before. I have told them to leave him alone and to contrive not any evil against him! But their minds are set, for they held a meeting secretly, desiring that those who would speak on his behalf might not be present. They have also threatened any man that might come forward to defend him with excommunication and they have paid most of the ragamuffins who are now in this square to speak out against him and to intimidate the rest!’

‘Is this true?’ Pontius Pilate frowned. ‘Have you paid these people?’

Caiaphas drew a half smile from his face, ‘Why should we do such a thing, Governor?’

‘Liar!’ Nicodemus said.

‘Have you threatened the people?’ Pilate asked again.

‘Excommunication is a well-known punishment for those who defend blasphemers and those who profane the name of God! This man Nicodemus and takes his part because he is a disciple of Jesus and cannot be trusted, governor.’

‘Has the governor become his disciple also?’ Nicodemus said, ‘For I hear him speak on Jesus’ behalf?’

Caiaphas near snarled, ‘Shut up!’

Nicodemus countered, ‘You do not like Jesus because he speaks the truth!’

Caiaphas pushed forward, ‘Shut up again! If Jesus speaks the truth, then may you receive his truth, and his portion!’

Nicodemus retorted, ‘Amen, Amen! May I receive his truth and I know you will make sure that I receive his portion!’

Emboldened by Nicodemus other Jews came now from the forum and pushed forward into the square to speak out on behalf of Jesus. A great dispute then arose among the supporters and detractors – enough to deafen the ear.

In the midst of this an attendant came to the Pavement to whisper something into Pilate’s ear. After that Pilate went to the praetorium and Gaius Cassius wondered if Claudia Procula had sent for him. When he returned he took Cassius aside and said to him, ‘Glance your eye about and tell me, you know the Sicarri, do you recognise any among the crowds? Are these the men the priests have paid to brew this foment?’

Cassius looked at the sea of faces, each melting into the other. He could not tell who was who. They all looked alike to him, a rabble. But to admit it would be the same as buying a place on a long boat to a sedentary position in Rome. He wiped away the sweat from his brow. He had not heard anything from his spies about Sicarri, only that one of the man’s own disciples had betrayed him.

‘No,’ he said, ‘there is no love lost between the Sicarri and the priests and so in my estimation these are not the men they would have harnessed for their purpose.’

‘Who is here, then?’ Pilate’s tone was full of annoyance.

He gave Pilate his best assessment. ‘It is likely these are Jews from the city, men already known to the priests.’

‘And those who love Jesus?’ Pilate rasped.

‘They are not from Jerusalem itself, but from other places. The priests have made certain that most could not find a place in this square. ’

‘I see.’ Pontius pondered it, while the world fell into a clamour.

Pontius finally raised an arm and there was silence. He paused, looking at the crowds.

‘According to custom,’ he shouted, ‘Rome entitles the people to a privilege during the feast – the deliverance of one prisoner. I have a man in my dungeon, a murderer, a member of the Sicarri, the son of Abbas, one of those responsible for the massacre of your own citizens in these very streets some years ago. We caught this Bar Abbas only two days ago, planning another insurrection with two others, one called Gesmas and another, Dismas. These men are all sentenced to die, murderers and dissenters and thieves. Remember, this man Bar Abbas was responsible for the blood that ran in these streets, the blood of your kin, and after that he deserted even his own dying brothers to seek his own safety. I will let you choose to release one man this day, either this murderous coward, or the man called Jesus of Nazareth, whom you yourself have called the Christ, a man whom you have seen heal and preach and console the people.’

The crowd seemed paralysed with uncertainty; a small group of his supporters called out, ‘Free Jesus! Free him!’

But Caiaphas shrieked his odium over the noise in the court, ‘No! Free Bar Abbas! Free Bar Abbas!’

A few people caught the contagion and more followed.

‘Bar Abbas!’ they cried with lustful passion, raising their fists. ‘Bar Abbas!’