The Stranger of Galilee

Chapter 4 - Right, or Rome?

He had spotted her - and was still looking!
               Claudia could not breathe in or out. She had been caught, and so close to the end of her journey...
               Her brown covering had managed to get her this far from the palace undetected (though that all seemed a blurry, frantic haze to her now), but not twenty paces from the top of the hill, when she raised her eyes to see how much further the walk would be, they met those of a Roman soldier. And they latched on. He was staring straight at her uplifted face, painfully aware of who she was.
No, Claudia thought, trembling. Please, God, do not let him arrest me now! Not after all I have been through this day already. Please do not let me meet my end on this hill.
               But as desperate as Claudia was to simply gather her skirts and flee, something stopped her. Her eyes could not split from the nameless, familiar soldier's. Why? Why did they keep crossing paths? Why him? And why did he only stare, when he should have marched her straight back down the hill and back into the governor's captivity?
               For another few seconds the shocked trance between the soldier and the governor's wife held. But then another soldier approached the staring one, tugged on his arm and told him to make haste, so the gazing guard looked at his brother, instantly breaking the spell. Claudia used the opportunity to quickly bow her head once more and hurry along, hoping to be covered by the crowds. She dared not glance back at the soldier again. And somehow, she made it to the top of the hill without being arrested, nor recognised again.

'Salvation is of the Lord! He alone can save!'
'Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and will not be destroyed!'
'He made my son whole!'
'He banished devils from my house!'
'I but touched the hem of his garment and was made whole in an instant! He verily is the Lord God of Israel!'
'He but spoke and I could walk again!'
'Only a fool could deny his deity in the presence of so great a cloud of witnesses!'
               Voices: male, female, Jewish, Gentile, young, old, had been ringing out like tuneless, rhythmless bells from the start of the hill to the end. Jesus was shivering before his cross now, waiting to be tied to it, while the voices of his children filled the wind and travelled for miles around!
               Claudia's heart was warmed by the sound of the brazen believers, though she resented not being able to call out with them of how Jesus had changed her life too.
I have foreseen this very moment, and because of this man I believe in the LORD God of Israel! Claudia longed to shout, but she forced herself to refrain. She could not let herself be caught now. However, the temptation became stronger and stronger when opposers began to argue with the worshipping crowd: Jewish elders and priests shouting,
'Jesus has made claims he has no right to! He has misled the simple, tricked the foolish, and blasphemed the holy things of God! He must not be allowed to condemn a single man more!'
               Sadly, the more Claudia bridled her tongue, the more she began to stop being angry with the elders and priests. In fact, their constant railing began to make her doubt Jesus' deity, and so easily. What if they were right? What if Jesus was only a smooth-talking magician after all, whose charisma was leading people away from a truly righteous life? What if he was nothing more than a liar? A trickster? A dream-sending, smooth-tongued charmer?
               The validity of Claudia's visions ought to have reassured her, but she was a proud woman and would not abandon her life for a far less glamorous one without good reason.
And yet, here I stand on Calvary's hill, Claudia thought, almost smiling. Today I have disobeyed my husband, fled from Roman guards, cried in solitude and walked alone to see this Jesus. To deny that he is God would be to deny my own sanity!

The same man whom Claudia pondered had now been stripped of his scarlet robe, and while some soldiers were preparing long, thick nails - for what use, Claudia could not bear to imagine, - others spat, mocked, and some even cast lots for his blood-soaked vesture. But her eyes remained on Jesus.
              His body writhed in pain but did not struggle. Never once did he try to escape. Nor did he attempt to justify himself. He only lifted his trembling hands up to the sky, ready for the cross, as though he was willing to die!
               Two more men had been sentenced to crucifixion too that day, it seemed. Thieves, if Claudia had overheard correctly. Ironic to the point of infuriating, they did not take their punishment willingly. Those thieves beat against the soldiers around them, swearing and screaming long after their wrists and feet had been bound to their crosses. Claudia looked up at them. She may have been raised a Roman, seeing Roman sights and thinking Roman thoughts, but she still hated the exhibition of death: deserved though it was in this case. These men were about to have the life drained from them in broad daylight, before an entire audience, without mercy - how could anyone enjoy such a sight? How could anyone - her husband, no less - order it!? And of course, knowing that Pilate had ordered the crucifixion of the Son of God just as he had the death of those two thieves... Claudia knew she would never be able to look him in the eye again.