Fire and Sword (7 page)

As high priest, Caiaphas knew that he was ultimately responsible for whatever decision might be rendered by the group. He had already dealt with their leader; now it was a matter of reining in the rest of them and putting an end to the nonsense once and for all. He understood politics well, as his own office had come at the price of marrying the daughter of Annas, the previous high priest who now presided over the Sanhedrin.

“What was the nature of their teaching?” Caiaphas asked, his face glowing in the light of the room’s many lamps.

“What else?” said Alexander, looking at Zichri with whom he had already spoken. “They proclaim this dead Jesus and the resurrection of the dead.”

Caiaphas laughed. “I can’t fault them for teaching the resurrection of the dead, as that is one of our cardinal beliefs,” he said. “But as to this Jesus—the criminal we … or rather the Romans executed—is there no end to it? I thought once the leader was gone we would no longer hear about Him.”

“They believe Him raised from the dead,” said Zichri. “And they believe He empowers them from on high.”

“So what are we to do?” asked Alexander.

“I don’t know,” said Caiaphas, perplexed by it all. “Another trial would not be prudent. Not yet anyway.”

“Perhaps they could fall victim to some random violent character,” suggested Zichri.

Caiaphas shot a glance at Zichri. “Come now, my man,” he said. “We are not common murderers! We are priests and guardians of the people’s faith. No, we must deal with this in a legal and thorough manner. Be seated, all of you. We must decide this before tomorrow’s hearing.”

Pellecus had settled into the corner of the room, watching the men who were deciding the fate of Peter and John.
The fools! If they understood what they were really dealing with … Lucifer was correct in asserting that the pride of men was often worse than the pride of angels!

“Quite an assemblage,” came a familiar voice.

It was Lucifer.

“Yes, lord,” said Pellecus, with a curt bow of his head. “Seems they have attracted the attention of the worst of the lot.”

“Quick work,” Lucifer agreed. “Now if they’ll only finish it.”

“They aren’t quite ready for a final determination,” said Pellecus. “They are talking of beating the men and releasing them. Seems Caiaphas is not quite ready to bring murderous charges again.”

“Humans!” sneered Lucifer. “If they had simply murdered Jesus immediately instead of waiting so long, they would not be having this trouble today.”

“Seems so, my lord,” said Pellecus.

Lucifer looked at the men, shaking his head in disbelief. “Very well,” he said finally. “Remain here. Continue to stir up their hatred and determination to end this cult before it gets out of control.”

“I will do as you command,” said Pellecus.

Lucifer looked at Caiaphas. “Perhaps there is yet another murder lurking in his heart. In time.”

He looked at Pellecus. “See to it,” he said and vanished.

After leaving the two men meager food and water, the jailer closed the trap door that led down to the dank cellar-jail that would be their home for the night. In spite of what others might consider an obvious setback, Peter and John were encouraged by the great numbers of people who had become believers in the Lord.

“I heard the jailer say ‘thousands,’” said Peter. “What a glorious crime to be charged with!”

John laughed. “And one of the new believers was the jailer’s sister!” he replied. “Little wonder he was a bit rough with you.”

Peter nodded. “In truth, John, things may get even rougher,” he said. “But I have had my fill of denying the Lord. I now will have the honor of suffering for Him.”

“Quiet down there,” came the increasingly hostile and drunken voice of the jail keeper. “You’ve ruined my family with your talk. Now enough!” The man sniffed. “My poor sister …”

Peter looked at John and winked. “We’ll be praying for you too, my friend,” he shouted toward the jailer.

The sounds of a great crash followed as the man apparently threw his drink at the wall, cursing as he did.

The two disciples laughed.

The angels watching over Peter and John remained alert to any possible intrusions by the enemy. They didn’t really expect anything tonight, as the men were already in custody and faced a hearing the next day. Nevertheless, they were amazed at the men’s joyous spirits.

Darlon, a blond warrior, sat next to John. He was a favorite of Michael and had once been apprenticed to the archangel. He now served at Michael’s request—this time as John’s guardian. The other angel, Merlos, stood next to Peter. He had been with the older apostle since he had denied Jesus many weeks earlier. Merlos was also a warrior and had recently been assigned to protect a group of believers living in Bethany who had been in Jerusalem for the dramatic outpouring of the Holy Spirit at the Pentecost feast. It would be an interesting assignment.

“By what power or in whose name did you do this thing?”

Caiaphas’ words cut into the air in a semi-accusatory tone. He and several of the council had brought Peter and John in for questioning. They had decided that it was better to be prudent than rash—an interrogation of the leaders rather than general arrests.

Peter looked at the men who had condemned his Lord only weeks before.

“Well?” pressed Zichri. “The high priest asked you a question.”

Peter looked at Caiaphas and then the others.

“You are asking us if we performed an act of kindness in Israel?” said Peter. “Yes, we did. But it was nothing in ourselves that caused this man to be healed.”

Caiaphas looked at the others with disturbed countenance. He knew where this was headed.

“Know this,” Peter continued. “It is by the name and power of the man Jesus whom you crucified that this man is healed! And not only that—He brings salvation as well because there is no other name in Heaven given among men by which we might be saved!”

“He speaks blasphemy!” blurted Zichri.

“Hold your tongue,” cautioned Alexander.

Caiaphas turned to his priests and then back again to Peter and John, who were seated in the room, a guard on either side of them. He motioned to someone at the door, who nodded and exited, reemerging moments later with the man who had been healed. The man looked nervous until he saw Peter and John. He smiled at them.

“This is the man who was healed?” Caiaphas asked Peter.

Peter looked at the man and nodded. “The Lord healed this man.”

Caiaphas withdrew with his group to the far side of the room. It was obvious that the man was healed—he had been afflicted since birth. They could not deny that something miraculous had occurred. But perhaps they could now put an end to it. Even miracles have a way of dying down in the hearts of men over time. Caiaphas approached the two men.

“It is apparent that the Lord has indeed healed this man,” he said. “And now we will release you with this warning: stop speaking in the name of this Jesus, or something much worse will befall you!”

Peter could only shake his head. “Is it better to obey God or men?” he asked. “How can we not speak in the name by which we have been commanded to speak?”

“Nevertheless, stop speaking in that name!”

The guards escorted Peter and John out of the high priest’s council room. The men watched in silence as they left. Zichri was not convinced that they had accomplished anything useful. He believed that threats backed up with action was all that would work with these hard-hearted Jews.

“They’ll be back, my lord,” Zichri said, breaking the quiet. “The lash and the cross is all those men understand.”

Caiaphas looked at the priests. “Perhaps,” he agreed, troubled with the prospect of putting down yet another religious obstacle. “But for now they have the favor of the people, and we must move slowly.”

Zichri smiled. “Then we are in a good place,” he said. “The favor of these people is no favor.”

Chronicles of the Host