As this memory played through Demas’s mind, the pain faded. There were two brief moments of vague pressure against his legs. His body slumped down the center beam of the cross, but he felt no discomfort. He heard the ropes around his wrists creak as they stretched under his full weight. He was aware of the nails driven through his hands, yet he felt no pain. There was only a sense of weightlessness. Demas looked about with an expression of joy and called out in Hebrew. Adas frowned in confusion at the statement, but it was sealed in his memory. Adas and his men stared in astonishment at how peacefully Demas accepted death.
Jamin cried out when he saw his brother was dead. An unbearable loneliness pressed upon him like a great weight. He dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands. Overcome with grief, Jamin failed to notice how calmly Demas died. He only knew his brother was dead. John the Baptist was dead. Yeshua of Nazareth was dead. Jamin couldn’t understand how their lives could end so disastrously, leaving him alone in a world of unending misery.
Chapter 5
Pontius Pilate, the fifth Roman prefect appointed to the Judean province, scanned the city from a window in Herod’s Palace. He watched with relief as the activity of life, once again, was ordinary. The sun, which had regained its familiar brilliance, was edging toward the west. The Roman sighed with sorrow and satisfaction. He regretted sending Yeshua to his death, but he had satisfied the Jewish Sanhedrin.
Pontius despised the complicated Jewish religion. He had caused riots by displaying the Roman standards overlooking Solomon’s Temple, and inside Herod’s Palace. Pilate had raided the Temple treasury to pay for improvements to the aqueduct system that brought water to Herod’s Palace, which brought the province to the brink of revolt. The governor turned his Roman soldiers loose on the protesters who were massacred. Every offensive act stirred up protests, costing Emperor Tiberius resources and manpower. Finally, Tiberius issued an ultimatum—one more riot and Pilate would be exiled.
Pontius was pleased with the frustration his last order caused the Sanhedrin. The crimes were posted over the heads of every crucified criminal as a lesson to would-be offenders. Instead of posting blasphemy as the crime, Pontius ordered an inscription proclaiming Yeshua “King of the Jews.” Yet, it wasn’t only to exert his authority; it was because of Yeshua’s response when the governor asked him, “What is truth?”
Yeshua answered, “I am the Truth.” For a moment, Pontius believed him.
Every Passover, a convicted criminal would be released to the people. Pontius offered Yeshua, but the crowd wanted Barabbas, a depraved man, who had instigated a revolt causing many deaths. Pontius chaffed at releasing Barabbas. The riot he had led was the “final straw” for Emperor Tiberius. However, Pontius gave into the demands of the crowd, freed Barabbas, and sentenced Yeshua to death by crucifixion. The crowd quickly dispersed. Pontius was left alone with regret, which gave over to gnawing anxiety when the impossible darkness lasted for hours. During the earthquake, Pontius feared he had made a terrible mistake. When the shaking stopped, and the sun shone once again, he dismissed his panic as momentary hysteria.
A voice pulled him back to the present. “Your Excellency,” said his personal attendant, “there is a council member from the Sanhedrin who wishes to speak with you.”
Pontius waved a hand of dismissal, but changed his mind. “Take him into my library.”
The man’s name was Joseph, from the town of Arimathea. Pilate gestured at a chair. “Please, sit down. Joseph of Arimathea, one of the richest men in Judea. I’ve heard you own every tin mine in the province. What can I do for you?”
“Governor Pilate, I ask for the body of the man named Yeshua who has been crucified. I wish to bury him according to our customs.”
“If you are willing to bury him, why didn’t you defend him?”
Joseph did not care to satisfy Pilate’s curiosity. “My actions are irrelevant to my request. Will you release his body to me for burial?”
“Perhaps you should wait until he is dead.”
“He is already dead.”
“So quickly?” Pontius curled a lip. “I doubt that.” He called for his servant. “Bring the centurion in charge of the Nazarene’s crucifixion.” Pilate studied Joseph. “Why do you pay him this honor? Your own people demanded his execution.”
“I did not side with my brethren on this matter. I saw the miracles Yeshua did. No one could do these things unless he was from God.”
“If so, why would God let him die like a slave?”
“I don’t have all the answers. Yet that does not stop him from being God’s servant. It is not for us to question the actions of God.”
“I have heard some say that this Yeshua was your long foretold Messiah. Haven’t you had countless men claim the same thing?”
Joseph explained how the age-old prophesies concerning the Messiah had occurred this day. Many of these events were out of human control, especially for Yeshua. There were many more prophecies Joseph described in detail, thinking Pilate’s lack of interruption was a sign of interest. In reality, Pilate was thinking how he might discuss these issues with Herod, hoping to bond with the ruler. One always needed allies, especially when in disfavor with the emperor.
When Adas appeared in the doorway, the governor shook his head impatiently. “Whoever he was, it is done and I washed my hands of it. Centurion, tell me the condition of the crucified Nazarene.”
“Your Excellency, the man called out, ‘It is finished,’ and immediately died. Then the earth shook. He has been dead for some time.”
“How would you know what the Nazarene said? Surely, he spoke in Hebrew.”
“I am fluent in Hebrew, Your Excellency.”
“Leave us.” Pilate gestured impatiently. “Return to your post.”
“Your Excellency,” said Joseph, “When Yeshua died, the earth shook. I am told that when the earth shook, the veil which separates the people from the Most Holy Place in the Temple ripped apart from the top, where no man can reach.”
“Isn’t the veil as thick as a man’s fist? How did it rip?”
“By the hand of God.”
Pontius gave Joseph a surly glare. “Take the body. Do with it as you please.”
Joseph expressed his gratitude and left. Hurrying out of the palace, he found Nicodemus, his fellow councilman. Together, laden with oils and spices, they went to Golgotha. They greeted John and the women who had been huddled on the ground.
“Come on,” Adas said to his men. “We’ll wait over there,” he tilted his head over his shoulder, “and let them take care of their dead.”
The soldiers moved off, but kept watch. John spoke to Joseph and Nicodemus as he glanced at Adas. Joseph looked at Adas and nodded. Adas acknowledged the gesture.
Joseph turned his attention to the mother of Yeshua. “My dear woman, with your permission, I will prepare your Son for burial. I own an unused tomb in the garden. May I bury him there?” Mary thanked him.
John and the two councilmen took Yeshua down, wrapped his body in strips of linen, and spices, and carried him to the garden nearby. It required all three of them to roll the stone to seal the tomb. Mary Magdalene followed behind to see the tomb’s location. She and the other women planned to anoint the body with oils after the Sabbath. Moving the heavy stone would be a problem, but they prayed that God would provide help.
Mary Magdalene thanked Nicodemus and Joseph, and returned to Yeshua’s mother. Mary helped the grieving woman to her feet. She moved