Pilate's Dilemma

CHAPTER FOUR
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Frontiers of the Empire were established and secure, as Augustus had made them—but would they always remain so? Could there not be an already-weakening force like a rot inside, as Pilate suggested?

Those happy dogs barking outside called Gaius' attention and he made his way to the door. “She has returned.”

“Who has returned?” Sextus and Eros asked in unison—they were “guys” after all. The gong sounded seemingly to answer these dogs, but it called for Vinius Gaius to attend Pilate once again.

“My master’s ‘daughter,’ or so he has called her for sometime. Before this year it was ‘Sharon’; she seems to have made up for some of the loss Pilate feels over his wife’s demise. This is such a remote place. One day Pontius called her ‘daughter’ and she warmed immediately to it. Both help each other lift from loneliness.” Saying only that much, the ponderous servant departed.

“He’s a bit like an elephant,” Eros observed, and he and Sextus both laughed.

However, Gaius returned soon enough, only to tell, “Pilate will be needing my assistance with the fire tonight. She’s undoubtedly in there visiting. You may want to acquaint with her, and this a good chance. You know your way to Pilate’s room.” He smiled before he exited, and left the door open.

Besides busts of famous emperors and gods, his fancy door pull, and a nice selection of clothing, Pilate took only this young woman when leaving Jerusalem—besides that resented-by-many personal fortune. Sharon had been sickly for most of a year, and her brother Hiram, her sole relative, lost hope to again see her well. But then one day a nurse came and told of a remedy treatment, but it would be costly and require an extended time of recuperation. Because of this, her services would be costly and she would require the payment before beginning. Hiram was rather desperate as he happened upon one of Pilate’s staff who was carting away the belongings of the governor past the healing pool where Sharon reclined. Would Pilate help his sister, as a last gesture of good will to offer to Israel, Hiram suggested and wanted to know. When Pilate learned of this request, he instead offered his doctor as one to find her the correct medicines. So the brother had to decide on keeping her and having no assurance of treatment, or be one to let her go off with Pontius Pilate who he must trust. But Pilate needed to know whether she had been sick for a long duration–he didn’t want to take someone on board whose condition would likely worsen rapidly from an acute ailment, possibly to make the others also ill. Hiram kissed her good-bye and cried. He knelt to offer prayer when Pilate abruptly prevented him, saying, “She’s out of your hands now, and your god of Israel’s hands. Soon enough I shall locate the medicine that heals her, or she shall die in Gaul, like me.”

Sextus and Eros could not quite decide who should enter beyond that door first—both were intent on seeing for the first time this Sharon. During their hesitating, they heard a pleasant voice from within Pilate's room. She was cheering him with the report she had of the fine food she’d brought for the house. Sextus led in, and Gaius was there to announce their arrival and form it into an introduction:

“Pilate, my lady... Ennius Sextus and long-time friend in the Department of Vigilance, Dion Eros: mighty in word and blade. Sharon: the nephew of your ‘father’—his only relation.”

“I know,” offered Sharon with her hand resting on Pilate’s shoulder.

Gaius was still bowing and had his hand almost in contact with the arm of Sextus. Eros, he felt, required a bit more “making up” on his part.

“Yes,” she began, “All the house has been expecting you. For this reason I waited until early today to go shop for the fresh provisions. I have wanted your stay eventful and pleasant. I, myself, have returned from being away, so surely you’ll pardon this clutter around? It does appear that Gaius could use my help again with these so-called ‘helpers’ of his. ”

“Oh, those—” Pilate disdained them.

Sextus saw how all this made sense. But he was quite speechless in front of her. She was loving towards his uncle and the “nephew” in him was approving of that. Though plain in her looks, that meant nothing. Previously, back at the room, and in the hall coming here, it may have been that Eros expected more would be seen in a wealthy Procurator’s ‘daughter’, however, with the circumstances of this union—that of her ill health—there was no consideration of her appearance.

Eros wanted something to say and told that tomorrow Sextus, he was sure, would look forward to having talks. Then these two travelers retired to their room, talking more of an uncertain Empire future they thought was on the horizon. Eros saw a panoply of outcomes to face, all pockmarked with insidiousness. He proposed, in his taking “history” to task, that slaves in their revolt less than a hundred years ago nearly destroyed all Rome had, resulting from Spartacus’ defeating of two consular armies before being crushed. Followers of his were so much rabble with no cause save for a lure to rape and plunder, their “by-products” of a new “freedom”. Eros could not overlook that had they a religious belief bolstering them, that Slaves’ Revolt might have had a different end. Chaos churned until it felt confident to outwit their Roman law. In the slaves' battles, Chaos had little to lose.

At present this was a world in transition favoring the likes of Eros. Though his start was a slave, soon enough he’d been delivered into that newer race of "freedmen" which took reins away from the older crew of aristocrats. All government entities were happy to rely upon them; it took no share away from their proceeds of corruption. Indeed, a certain ‘savageness’ would influence and improve the established idyll of madness; emperors became dependent upon his kind—not for any philosophy, but for continuance of order. For without quiet, no one can hear. The older, coarse view one Senator expressed: “Rome incarnates as an idea, it is its own ‘faith’. Authority and proper behavior bespeak the catechism where those of a conquered nation might well refuse to meld with Rome’s structure and walk the one step down from ‘alienation’ to ‘annihilation.’" Bland and impartial… someone had to die. 'The Way’ fits the bill. In the conversation Eros put forward: "If they have no purpose of their own, they become Rome’s purpose and desire to be entertained!” And so talked Sextus and Eros back and forth—they had remarkable agreement on this general status of the Empire. When the topic shifted to defenses along borders, Eros made comment that aligned with Pontius Pilate’s earlier spoken concerns. And Sextus was ‘coming around’:

“I agree!" Sextus pounded a fist so on their table. He contended, “For the provences, it's so simple to just yield. Hasn’t Africa and all others to the northern seas co-signed legitimacy to Rome’s law as the establisher of true unity? Now they experience protection and status. Rome has become—and would continue to be, save us!—hope mankind has for developing the supreme state where prosperity would make envious all barbarians. Let their impatient, unassisted wait outside for a crack in the walls succeed only after the longest of time! Bury this crazy doctrine taught by a Nazarene hailing equality within humanity and none showing an allegiance greater than to their god! We should eliminate this fallacy before it takes root and allows Chaos, with promise, to mimic a bloom of love and respect!”

“Excellent speech,” purred Sextus in hushed satisfaction.

Vinius Gaius had returned to ask if there was more they needed for the first night. Eros asked him to step in; he was quite sure of enjoying listening to what the aide would say:

“Go on, please, as before... ‘That Nazarene was arrested by the Temple guards and then brought to our esteemed Governor—’”

“I was there, Eros, Sextus. That is right. But my Lord: a deputation of several Jewish priests had come first, and Caiaphas was leader. That one told my master in no uncertain terms that Jesus with his claim of being the Messiah would see a substantial number follow, and these should not be thought of as ‘provincials’. They were folks from everywhere expecting eventual revolt. But not, provided...”

“Un...” began Sextus; “less...” urged Eros.

“He was to meet the fate of execution before the Passover feast.”

"Pontius Pilate had been given an ultimatum?" Sextus asked, scarcely able to believe it.

"Af first, Pontius discounted what they'd told—it caused a laugh to come from him because of those elders. He told how, whenever, possible, he had tried to cooperate with them, within Jewish law. This request, though, he thought ludicrous. The Procurator reminded of the Roman authority that was his, and where in a capital offense the penalty must relate to a Roman law. Any condemnation must clearly tie to one of those laws. ‘Why, what has he done?’ Pilate asked. They presented him with the charge: blasphemy against their Jehovah. Pilate next asked, ‘And which one of Rome's gods is Jehovah?’"

With this, Vinius Gaius began to digress and express his own 'belief cocktail' that he personally had grown comfortable with, but Eros pulled him short.

"Stay, please keep the account to the events themselves."

‘Please,’ Gaius was hearing Eros say. Ah, a sign of politeness may be his apology for his evilness against me today!

"How did Pontus Pilate get answered back?" Sextus asked.

"Caiaphas the high priest began with a bow and a smile—I know, I was standing there and saw it. He said, "All the same, the revolt will surely come if you fail to act as we ask, and in time, Caesar will learn of your part in this.'" Gaius made his own comment, "Let me tell you, the high priest's voice was so persuasive, it was difficult to think of questions one might ask to get him to refute his remark. It was his contention it was 'better for one man to die an ignoble death than to have a nation go through many executions.' I could see my master was very unsettled by this talk—I had not before seen him this disturbed. So the charged man was brought in. Strong as a guard, he was, but stooped some now for those beatings. A strange expression he had; it was as if nothing anyone said mattered much. My master told him the Jew's charge in the 'Roman' way. But it came down to Pilate's asking the man, 'Are you a king?'"

Sextus popped up, "No one has ever asked me, 'Are you a king?'"

"That's because you're not Jewish," Eros jokingly explained.

"Could be in with 'the Way'," needled Gaius. Gaius remembered Jesus' reply from the trial: "You have said it." Gaius related this then went silent.

"'You have said it'?" repeated Eros.

Gaius nodded.

"You have said it," Sextus blindly repeated.

Gaius explained to both, "In the trial before Pontius Pilate, he didn't answer 'yes' but replied with those very words, and probably meant 'You are answering this for me.'"

It was Sextus' comment, "If he thought the charge unfounded, then he was also telling the judge, "You may as well give answers for me too." And for this he got crucified, and his mother was there watching it take place?"

"Yes, for that, or at least as best I can tell. Know something else? He smelled like a king. He'd been anointed just a couple of days before by a woman at someone's house, and from this event he still smelled 'regal'. Now you see why Pilate has searched since for 'truth'. But who can tell him 'truth' with definiteness as concerns Jesus of Nazareth except for that dead man himself?"

“Frankly,” added Gaius, as his last comment, AI was thinking at the time ‘this fellow from the country doesn’t understand the basest Latin. But then I remembered they called him ‘the Nazarene.’ We have troops through there all the time. Wagons break down. Who do they go to for fixing them? The town carpenter. This Jesus learned Latin for sure, and he must have learned Greek for trading and buying. Frankly, it makes no sense to me. I try to comfort Pontius, but—”

“Well, Gaius,” Eros picked up where Gaius was about to leave off, “the Nazarene won. Your Pilate got coerced by the Jews into doing as Jesus wanted them all to do, and you crucified him.”

Eros sat down on his stool and looked as tired as any man can. From that stool seat and in the darkness outside he saw there was much ahead for he and Sextus to do, and he felt unprepared for it. But the truth or the truths of the matter were these: “His predictions declared that he would die in a way that only Romans administer it—crucifixion; we Romans crowned him as ‘king’ amidst much mockery—that was short-sighted; the Jews jeered him in front of his mother at the cross—that’s gained him women’s sympathy; you made him walk outside the city—we Romans yielded to the superstitions that the Jews have; and now we in The Department look at him as a man who can possibly steal all the peace and assurance to continue Rome as it is—he hung there passively between two thieves. It was quite a day, that day.”

Sextus said, "And I've had enough for today. Can we all say 'goodnight'?"

Eros had moved to his bed and lay there with hands folded, not unlike in prayer. Gaius was willing to continue and though he hadn't taken the liberty to sit, with Sextus at bed that made two stools free. He moved them to a corner, motioned for Eros who got up and came over. on his way he saw through the window that dark streaks were making their final thrust to push people away from their out of doors tasks to indoor recreation. He knew mosquitos to be the foot soldiers of shadows attacking. Here, Eros felt altogether kindly to Gaius and the opportunity was still presenting to learn more. Who would know what tomorrow would bring, and tonight was still available for their discussion.

“Now, six years after an execution, the memory of a Jewish criminal has your master beside himself, and the potential of a problem to the Empire has brought me all this way. I guess Sextus is finished; I had thought that we’d heard all you had to tell us, however Gaius, pour us some wine.”

Sextus called over his last question, “At what time do they rise around here?”

“And is someone looking in on our horses?” added Eros.

“I wish to meet again and talk with Sharon at length,” announced the nephew.

Surprisingly, Gaius had no general time he could say.

Eros asked, “Then maybe Gaius can answer this question: How long is Pilate to live?”

“Longer than I, I hope,” was the short answer that bore no cuteness or sarcasm.

Eros looked at Gaius who was now very close. “Would you like to hold my knife to my neck?”

“No. Not really,” Gaius gave reply.

“Then if you don’t need fun, then you might as well retire.”

“Thank you, my lord.” He left.

“How long did he say Pilate should last?” Sextus called over.

"Give me a couple of minutes and I'll tell you." Eros went out for a pee and found a few people still strangely milling around and for no apparent reason. He checked on the horses; they had feed and their manes and tails had been brushed adequately. Returning, Eros went straight to his bed and advised Sextus:

"You will, no doubt, gain your inheritance, however, I'd ask, 'How much truth is enough truth?' I, of course, am concerned with 'How long you will be allowed to enjoy it?' A suspicion in me crouches like a lion." Eros sipped wine as he stretched out farther. "Give me time to 'chat' with her, too, please. Or did you want it to be just-between-brother-and-sister talk?"

Sextus chuckled. And that was the last thing Eros heard from him, although Eros had talked bout a boyhood experience thinking Sextus was listening.

It was still evening and moonlight glimmered through their shutters. Sextus deserved his snores now, and Eros offered him to the night.

Eros lay there, looking up and talking very slowly as if his voice would lull him to sleep. "When a king gets anointed in the Jewish religion, what does it mean? Was it always that way, the same now as hundreds of years ago? Will the followers of Jesus now claim that as an anointing just as they now claim he was raised from the dead? If any did, then truly Caiaphas' charge had some merit. Can we find anyone who witnessed this woman anointing him, and can they remember what was said? Would such words contain prophecy against the strength of the Empire?"

"What's that? Who are you talking with?" Sextus managed to murmur.

"You, now, I guess, Sextus. I was only trying to think out loud."

"I hope that leads to your snoring silently."

"I was just saying out loud what I know about the life these Jesus followers are said to be trying to achieve, the basics. Sometimes if I say the words aloud I get better ideas about what all means."

When I talk to Pontius Pilate again I want to be ready with things I might say and have idea, too, of what his answers will be. Planning makes for better questioning—Department Rule 18.”

“So he’s part of your investigation and you didn't come just to provide me company?”

Eros hopped right over that without answering and told, “Jesus preached to the humble and poor. He informed that all mankind is equal in his father’s sight, and that giving loyalty to god is far more important than giving it to any human master on earth here .”

At this point, it was apparent to Eros that Sextus had fallen asleep again. So he was talking only to himself: “Most of humanity lives wretched lives in their fear of authority—that’s your point, Sextus—and people, wishing to avoid all pain, finally succumb to death’s finality. The fear of their death subjects them to it all. But take away fear of death and the rest becomes inconsequential. Those of “the Way’ are told that this death is not something to be dreaded but an eternity of happiness and the old clinging to life and fearing authority won’t count for much. Happiness comes when they obey this Jesus-bar-Joseph. They make good-enough citizens and Rome is hesitant to take action against them. They have general enthusiasm about the ‘here and now’ and this brought how they relate by obedience with god. From what agents tell, this Jesus sect was all but wiped out in Palestine, but now it’s spreading north and on to Asia Minor–only among Jews still.”

* * *

“Wake up and listen.” This was not Eros in some half-asleep mumbling; he was at the door, sword in hand. A light showed beneath. From somewhere not too distant came the noise: a long, muttering and rumbling chant, as though dozens were repeating some formula and beating their feet in time. It was a rough provincial dialect that made the words incomprehensible to Eros at first. Sextus roused himself and similarly geared up. Eros pulled open the door and the chant was clear, “Crucify... crucify... crucify him! Crucify... crucify... crucify him!”

Were there crucifixions here? Eros doubted it; more like the craziness of Pilate’s had found a home in them all. “We’ve got our swords, but I don’t think we’ll use them.” Eros stepped out into the corridor lit farther down by oil lamps set in niches along the walls. Thick, tarry smoke drifted in from the courtyard just beyond. As the two made their way there, the building rang with another “Crucify him!” Eros was first to figure it out.

“So that’s it. Your quite-mad uncle acts out the story again.” The courtyard, they saw, was packed tight with humanity, and the smell of unwashed bodies merged with the stench of torches.

Sextus asked him, “Could this be a religious service?”

All was silent as Eros and Sextus pushed their way through them in the archway, and then an old man at the front raised his arms and then all–men, women and children–threw their heads back and shouted in unison, “Crucify... crucify... crucify the man!”

Sextus had an explanation, “They must have scheduled this for before our arrival—we came early, you know.” But these words were drowned by Pilate who managed a strength to tell them.

“No. No. Please do not ask me to do this. I have found no fault in him.”

Sextus shrugged and commented, “Even Jesus did not plead for his life with that much intensity!”

Pilate stood on a stone platform at the end of the courtyard with hands stretched out in supplication. He was dressed in a robe from the Governor’s Judean years. It could no longer be said to be “grand attire”. Through the smoke Eros saw it to be badly crumpled. The golden laurel crown was dull, his staff of office tarnished, giving the effect of his being a pathetically poor actor trying to appease a rabble. Behind was Vinius Gaius, mockery of a centurion at best with his sagging flesh that bulged all around the breast-plate he wore.

Sextus’ eyes widened. Between the crowd and his uncle there were brought two dummies that were lifted up and made to stand. They were roughly sewn together and stuffed with straw or sawdust. Their backs had stripes from some kind of blood to simulate whipping marks. The restraining thongs seem to cut into the wrists and the heads of the two were bent forward as though they stared hopelessly at the ground.

Pontius Pilate asked the crowd,“Who shall I release to you?” Again he stretched his hands out. “It is your right to ask for the life of one criminal at your festival, so who shall it be? The robber, Barabbas, who has killed, pillaged and brought shame upon you, or this man in whom I see no fault? Let me release this fellow who has wronged no one!”

His words were drowned out by shouts for “Barabbas!” The flaxen-haired Gauls screamed and shook their fists in mock fury. Pilate watched them in the wavering light for a few moments, then lowered his hands. That being a cue, two from the crowd stepped forward to one stuffed figure and, untying its wrists, they hoisted “him” onto their shoulders while the crowd shouted conniving approval. Clearly this wasn’t a mob but a well-drilled crowd of estate hangers-on who got paid with a life of idleness so they might ritualize their patron’s crazy whim!

“And what of that man, your king? The King of the Jews!” There was a final call to “Crucify him!” but this had taken on a subdued nature; the earlier climax of this ‘entertainment’ for them was the calling to release the bandit Barabbas. Already women were gathering up their children and starting to file away. The actors, having so arranged for their keep here, now could retire to bed. Sextus looked around for Sharon, to see whether she had taken part in this. But, no, the damsel was not required to attend these nightmarish dramas that Vinius Gaius staged always at his master's request.

“Then I am innocent of the blood of this just man,” Pontius Pilate continued. The yard was half empty when Gaius lifted a bowl of water and held it out to ‘the Governor’. It was at this point in the re-enactment that Eros, quite on his own, gave loose a shout, "Leave that alone!" Next, he stepped forward, the torch glowing light upon his face.

“You are not innocent, Governor. Your hands can never be made clean by water!”

His left hand grasped the remaining dummy, and the sword in his right slashed and hacked it. Sawdust gushed out from the cloth tears and the thing began to shrink. Sextus, as before when Eros had threatened Gaius by his point, remained still in his inaction.

“The man is dead. He died on a cross in Judea and his followers succeeded in creating a legend by stealing the body you allowed a rich man to have. He never rose from the dead, and you have nothing to fear from him.” Eros stepped closer and with moderate voice said,“But, my lord,” he continued, “there still is a curse on you. You convene them here to help fight it, but have you really an expectation that someday this crowd will call for release of ‘Jesus’ instead? I give you that the Nazarene was a poor deluded fool and you did not realize the danger within those, his teachings; but now, because you gave to him the death he asked for, these words greatly spread. This is a disease that, with no stop, shall eat into the body of the Empire unless it is destroyed by us!" Eros threw the sack down. He motioned for Sextus to come join them.

“Well, Procurator, you sent for your nephew and here he is. How must he earn the inheritance?”

Pilate stared down at the heap of crumpled cloth on the ground. In this drama that Eros, now, was staging, Pilate could, in the excitement, answer what earlier he had prevented himself from expressing. “I want to know who the man really was. After his death and when the body disappeared, I thought like you: that his followers had made off with it from the tomb so a legend would start and they be empowered. I began inquiries, and with results in I was no longer sure.” Not many stood around for this.

“The Emperor recalled me from Jerusalem before I could discover anything, but it did seem to me that the man might be what he claimed. Even in his boyhood, he was supposed to have had considerable power. And during the later wandering and preaching about, there were a dozen stories of healing and miracle working. Only one thing appeared to show that he was a charlatan, and I never had time to check on it.” This may be “the truth” Eros asked about.

Eros had confidence he might help both Pontius Pilate and Sextus. “Go on, man. What was this thing? Tell me what might discredit him."

Sextus was not prohibiting Eros in any way. But Pilate broke their conversation off, as though too tired to continue. Eros grasped his shoulder and would not be stopped.

“What was it you could not check on? What must we find out that somehow will satisfy you entirely?”

“It was those years between.” The old man swayed on the platform and now Eros' grip is what held him up. “We knew of the Nazarene’s childhood. We know when he appeared from the wilderness and began his preaching. But in between...” Pilate’s voice was no louder than the occasionally whipping wind in the flame from the torches that lit the scene. “That 18 years... from age 12 to 30 we know nothing about him. I’ve had Sharon write letters to her brother and to the names he could give us of ones he knew in Jerusalem. But always this was fruitless. Oh when? Oh when–”

* * *

Weeks later:

“To Naevius Macro, Prefect of the Praetorian Guard and the Department of Vigilance; From steadfast servant, Dion Eros: Greetings. Ennius Sextus and I left the home of Pontius Pilate yesterday. Nothing more can we learn there. We have been asked to escort a young woman living at his home to Jerusalem after her being several years away. This has now become our principal destination of travel, and it is our hope to find a ship at Marseilles that takes us directly to the east. Because of the situation, I hold opinion that we have not time for even calling first at Rome. Thus, please receive this first report to you. Once the cult that teaches eternal life, human equality and obedience to god leaves the Jewish pavilion and begins its spread to national groups around, we will of necessity be acting most quickly.

The letters I have received from Rome indicate that the reign of Tiberius is to end soon. When this happens, with Caligula taking that place, you will become the most powerful man in the Empire. And so it is my request that you deal a portion of your strength to stopping this enterprise called ‘the Way’.

We have had discussions concerning danger the Empire faces. I am of the opinion that civil suppression is no solution. These adherents will accept their martyrdom as an avenue to enter a blissful heaven. So they are quite insane. They would go to the cross even cheerfully as testimony to those less secure in belief. Bringing discredit and ridicule upon adherents is, in my opinion, our best—yea, only—chance to stop this disease of the mind before it secures a wide foothold. The time is right, Naevius Macro, for us to do this now. But obtaining ennui requires getting the statements of those who are most aware of the man’s background and personal history—I speak of the known Jesus-bar-Joseph. Reports the past Procurator has filed with me show the man’s final years to be as we are aware, that he was deluded—a wandering preacher, in fact, thinking himself god. It can be said for him that he took precautions not to let disciples share the impending ignominy, nor that he allowed them to be subject to arrest in and around his death. Yet now, bandied-about talk of his being made alive again, and his being in another spiritual existence, has given all adherents a willingness to suffer death rather than ‘dislocate’ from him. Although aspects of their teaching remain unclear and could be investigated, my recommendation is that we find witnesses or knowledgeable people in Palestine who can tell me accurately to intervening “silent years.” I contend we’ll find the embarrassing details of it that mockery then can use to dispel and diminish claims and fealty of those, his adherents.

His early life is clear enough. He was the precocious son of poor but respectable parents, living at Nazareth till he reached 12 years of age. It is then that begins a long, unaccounted-for period of years that only become public when he is baptized in the wilderness by John the Baptist, whom Herod subsequently had slain. It is this partition of middle years that interests me and, I sincerely hope, also gives concern to you. We know people to conceal their pasts when something is potentially discrediting. Of this ‘messiah’s’ undisclosed past we know nothing; he neither mentions those years, nor do followers of his who may know something. But people in Nazareth and some in Jerusalem must surely have information to be learned.

I am, therefore, en route to Judea with a hope that by direct talks with those who remember him, we shall learn what he, apparently, always chose to hide. When we discolor his memory and the admiration many have for this pitiable pretender, we free them from dedication to his memory. I harbor no doubt of my being able to provide you, Naevius Macro, with our evidence gathered, signed and witnessed, so as to begin a campaign next of ridicule and general contempt that can be served upon this fellow. He shall not fight back, shall he!

And concerning other discrepancies of the story, there are the nails...”

* * *