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decided that assassination was the simplest approach. Yochanan the Baptizer had been trouble enough. Now this Galilean preacher—a nobody, a carpenter’s son—was being spoken of as if He were Yochanan come back to life! In Galilee there were rumblings that Yeshua would make Himself a king! For his part Caiaphas spread the notion that Yeshua was a sorcerer and demon-possessed. He had tried to trap Yeshua with charges of breaking the Sabbath, of promoting immorality, of failing to properly recognize Rome’s authority. When all those attempts at character assassination failed, he issued the formal edict, making any favorable comment on Yeshua cause for excommunication. This threat seemed to have a good effect on the people. To be cast out of the synagogue for speaking favorably about Yeshua meant an end to all commerce. Loss of business. Loss of home and family. “¬I’m building a case against Yeshua,” Caiaphas confided. “Testimony. I sent a summons to Capernaum, to Simon of the sect of the Pharisees. He entertained Yeshua and his talmidim some months ago. Yeshua claimed to have the power to forgive sins. Such details are important. Simon wrote me after the incident. He’s coming to Yerushalayim to add his testimony to the others.” “Well and good.” Antipas sucked his teeth. “Testimony means nothing in the face of what happened yesterday.” The whispers about Yeshua had certainly become more cautious. That is, until this matter about the blind beggar named Peniel. Ultimately Caiaphas favored a permanent solution. A knife across the throat of Yeshua would end his arrogant babble! “Yes. You’re right. So where is Yeshua?” Caiaphas asked. “By now I ¬don’t know,” Eglon admitted. “There’s a rumor he’s going back to the Galil.” If true, this change was satisfactory to Caiaphas for the time being. Everyone living in Jerusalem regarded Galileans as hayseeds and brigands anyway. Let Yeshua get killed out in the countryside. By the time the news reached the capital it would scarcely raise an eyebrow, much less a riot.

Besides, anything happening in the Galil was Antipas’ problem. “Well,” Caiaphas said in a conciliatory tone to Herod Antipas, “the Galil. Your territory. You’ll just have to pursue him there.” Caiaphas sat down, shifting the ritual turban so sunlight streaming in the window did not bounce into his vision off the brass plate forming the headband. Holiness unto Yahweh was lettered across it. Repressing an urge to smile, he gently nudged the headpiece so the shaft of light annoyed Antipas. Squinting, Antipas interposed a fleshy palm. “Already ordered. But Yeshua is not the ¬only problem, as I hear it. What are you going to do about Chief Shepherd Zadok in Beth-lehem? Trouble, that old man. Nothing but trouble. Brings up . . . certain unpleasant memories about my father, Herod the Great. That unfortunate incident with babies in Beth-lehem. Thirty years ago. Damning to the royal family. I hear Zadok spoke out openly in the council in favor of Yeshua. Urged the Sanhedrin to recognize this imposter as Messiah. The Romans will cut all our throats if we ¬don’t nip this sort of thing in the bud.” Stiffly Caiaphas retorted, “Zadok is chief shepherd of the flocks of Israel. A hereditary position. But he’s also a religious official ¬under my authority. We discussed his case in council last night. You may leave him to me.” Antipas grunted and shifted his bulk ponderously in the chair. “And what about the latest supposed healing . . . the blind beggar? We ¬can’t have the common people—the am ha aretz—spouting nonsense about miracles and fulfilled prophecy, can we?” “What do you suggest?” Caiaphas inquired sarcastically, knowing full well what was meant but willing to force the tetrarch to say it. “Why not put out the beggar’s eyes?” Eglon eagerly contributed. “If he’s still blind, that’ll prove Yeshua’s a liar.” Both rulers stared at the