The Caiaphas Code

AD 33, Jerusalem

Loud rumblings echoed from the riots in the streets outside the stately palace, forcing Caiaphas, the Jewish high priest, to his feet. From his opulent courtyard balcony he stared at the people in the street down below.
“What’s happening down there?” he asked one of his elders who went by the name Nicodemus.
“We might have another protest on our hands, High Priest. It seems they’re accusing the Roman State of using temple funds to build the aqueduct. Hundreds are heading to Pilate to complain as we speak.”
“That must not happen! We need to stop them before they can get anywhere near him.”
“I’ll take care of it, High Priest,” the head of his guard jumped to command behind him.
Nicodemus paused, nervously tugging at his gray beard. “We might have a bigger problem on our hands.”
“Bigger than a rebellion?” Caiaphas sneered.
Nicodemus stopped, forcing Caiaphas to turn and face him.
“There’s a man from Galilee… a Jew. The priests reported that he turned over the collection tables in the temple.”
“Yes, I heard. It seems he’s causing quite a stir amongst the people.”
“Yes, well, it’s gotten worse. The people are turning away from the temple and choosing to follow him instead. He’s performing miracles all over Jerusalem.”
“Sorcery is what I call it,” a second elder, who stood to the high priest’s right added. “He’s put a spell on the people. They’re mesmerized by his wonders.”
Caiaphas turned and walked back into his house. “And? He’s not the first to trick people into seeing things. They’ll be back in our temple soon enough.”
“I’m not so sure. He’s different, High Priest. The people seem to be clinging to his every word. They like him and much of what he says is like that of a prophet. From what I hear he speaks words of wisdom,” Nicodemus replied.
“Careful, Nicodemus. Need I remind you where your loyalties lie?”
Nicodemus ignored the insinuation and continued his report without arguing. “The people are refusing to pay their temple taxes since they’re not attending our sermons anymore.”
Caiaphas stopped dead in his tracks. The last report had got his attention.
“How many people are we talking about?”
“Hundreds, High Priest, gaining more with each passing day,” a second elder answered.
“Well we can’t let that happen, can we? If he continues turning the people away from the temple the treasury will run dry and we will lose all of this.” Caiaphas gestured to the luxurious surroundings in his home. “Not to mention Pilate will have us all flogged,” he continued, and then paused in front of his copper basin signaling to one of his servants to run water over his hands.
“Assemble the chief priests and the other elders immediately,” he instructed both elders.

When darkness had fallen and a small group of his chief priests had gathered behind closed doors in his palace, the riots had all but quieted down in the village streets.
“What do you know of this man who threatens to destroy our temple?” Caiaphas asked them. “Have any of you witnessed his sacrilege against the house of God?”
No one answered him. The high priest paused briefly in front of each of the eight members, hoping his stern eyes would encourage them to speak up, but still no one spoke.
“We need to stop him,” Caiaphas continued. “We cannot have him go around tricking the Romans and calling himself the Messiah, king of the Jews. I will not have this man challenge my authority and corrupt the people against this house with his blasphemy, especially during Passover.”
Low murmurs erupted among the priests as the gravity of their leader’s last statement suddenly dawned on them and one of them commented in panic.
“We’re expecting thousands for Passover, High Priest. If they all follow this man we’d have no one to charge at the mikvehs.” (The chief priest was referring to the ritual immersion baths required by Jewish law upon entering the temple.)
Caiaphas knew all too well this surcharge yielded the most profit, especially during a sizable annual event like Passover. The threat of lost income angered him and when the rest of the group slowly caught on to what might come from it, it set about an uproar amongst the group of riled men.
“We need to remove him before he destroys everything we stand for,” the high priest guided his holy order.
“Remove him? What do you mean?” Nicodemus, who had been observing quietly, questioned his leader.
“You heard me. He needs to be executed. It’s the only way,” Caiaphas responded.
“Crucifixion, High Priest! He’s not a murderous thief. Surely you do not have the authority to sentence an innocent man to death for mere intimidation. None of us has even witnessed his supposed blasphemy. There has to be another way,” Nicodemus challenged his superior.
Caiaphas turned and faced his elder. “I have ruled this supreme house for eighteen years because I stay true to our cause. I would suggest you do the same. Bring him to me and find three witnesses who will testify to his treason and blasphemy. I will present their testimonies to Pilate and he will no doubt support my cause. Now leave me in peace and find me my witnesses. We have to be quick about this before the Passover starts.”
Several members of the Sanhedrin agreed with their supreme leader, except for Nicodemus who silently turned and walked towards the exit.
“Nicodemus,” Caiaphas called after his elder, “You know nothing at all! You do not realize that it is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish.”

Before the light of the new day, a man by the name of Judas, who was reportedly one of the man’s closest friends, was paid thirty pieces of silver to lead the Roman soldiers to the wanted man. Arrested and thrown into the dungeon prison chambers beneath Caiaphas’ home, the man from Galilee silently awaited his accusers.
“We have done as you asked, High Priest. The man has been captured,” Nicodemus reported.
“And the witnesses?”
“None of their accounts correspond, High Priest. We’re going to have to let him go.”
“That’s not going to happen, Nicodemus. Have you tried rewarding them?”
Nicodemus shifted his weight uncomfortably.
“That would be deceitful, High Priest.”
He paused, realizing he’d need to approach his superior from a different angle if he were to be successful at setting the innocent man free. “If the people find out you falsified testimony they would not look kindly upon your actions, High Priest. It is best for this house to set the man free.”
But Nicodemus’ words did not penetrate the hardened heart of his high priest and Caiaphas continued.
“Then we will trick him into confessing that he is the Messiah in front of us all so we can stand witness ourselves. Assemble the Sanhedrin at once. Before the sun sets, if it’s the last thing I do, this man will be brought before Pilate and crucified for all the people to witness.”