The Biggest Mistake Of All

Nathan wished he were anything but here. When he had reported for duty that morning he had no idea what he was getting into. Usually he loved being a temple guard. The pay was good, the duty was light, and the prestige was awesome. The hardest thing he had to do was keep his mouth shut about what went on behind the scenes. If the people only knew! Everybody thought the priests and the members of the Sanhedrin were so holy! They were always so dignified in public, and of course when they put on their ceremonial regalia you couldn’t help but be impressed. It was as if God himself were standing in front of you! But they bickered and haggled like housewives at the market over everything from the exchange rate for purchasing kosher lamb to who was going to get next year’s contract for lamp oil! But it didn’t really have anything to do with him, guard duty mostly involved keeping curious Gentiles from straying into the restricted areas or occasionally breaking up a brawl outside the temple.

He should have known that something was brewing, though. Things had been very tense since that Galillean rabbi Yeshua had practically caused a riot out there in the Court of the Gentiles, driving the money-changers and the sellers of sacrificial animals out with a whip and turning over the tables. It had taken all day to clean up the mess; the merchants were demanding compensation and protection, and the priests had called a special meeting.

But Nathan had never expected anything like what he was seeing this morning. When he reported to his sergeant at dawn there was already a crowd waiting outside the high priest’s house, and they had to put one unit to work just keeping the spectators back. The first thing his squad did was to haul a prisoner up from the holding tank beneath the high priest’s house. Nathan hardly recognized the firebrand Yeshua; he was bruised and bloody, the night shift hadn’t treated him gently. But it was definitely the same man.

As the morning wore on Nathan got more and more uneasy. First they dragged the prisoner over to the governor’s palace. Then the sergeant ordered the temple guard to turn the prisoner over to the Romans. And Nathan would have been very happy if they’d been dismissed back to their usual posts back at the temple. But apparently Caiaphas and the others wanted to make sure the Romans took the charges seriously. So there they all still were, back at Pilate’s for the second time that morning. They’d all traipsed over to King Herod’s town house - apparently the governor wanted to palm the problem off on him, but that didn’t work although Nathan couldn’t hear exactly what happened. Whatever it was, though, it hadn’t pleased the council members at all.

And now here they were back again. The crowd had gotten bigger. It looked as though every idler and layabout in Jerusalem had shown up. Although - he looked again around the gathered onlookers - wasn’t that his wife Leah and her brother Joel? She’d get a piece of his mind when he went home that evening, that was for sure. This was no place for a respectable woman! Of course, he had remembered her saying something about going to hear the Galilean preach. What was it... the kingdom of God was coming? He hadn’t paid any attention at the time, of course, there were always crazy preachers running around the countryside prophesying something, and Leah was really religious.

Nathan’s attention snapped back to where the prisoner Yeshua had just been brought out in front of the crowd again. He stood motionless between two soldiers, and Pilate stepped forward to the edge of the balcony. “This man hasn’t violated any Roman law,” he proclaimed in a loud voice. “Let me release him to you as the beneficiary of the usual Passover amnesty.”

“Well,” thought Nathan as the crowd began to mutter, “I could have told him that wouldn’t work. They’ve smelled blood, and they won’t go home until you give it to them.” Someone shouted, “He’s a blasphemer!” And another voice yelled, “Kill the false prophet!” Other voices took up the cry and pretty soon the whole courtyard was chanting, “death to the traitor!”

Pilate conferred with one of his officials and stepped back to the edge of the platform again and raised his hand for silence. The crowd quieted down to hear what he had to say. Again in a loud voice Pilate said, “According to custom, every Passover Rome releases a condemned man out of respect for your traditions and festivals. I have another prisoner here today, a thief and murderer named Barabbas. I will release to you either Yeshua or Barabbas. Which one do you choose?”