The Stranger of Galilee

Chapter 7 - Objections and Obligations

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Up and down, up and down, up and down... What time was it? Ah, high noon at last. About eight, possibly nine more hours until Lucius' shift would end. Up and down the length of the prison he walked, again, and again - Hortensia caught his eye, but he ignored her. That unrealistic, red-eyed face had always bothered him more than attracted him, unlike the other soldiers. They loved her!
               Like most of his brothers, Lucius had never married. He had heard tales of the Greeks being surrounded with more maidens than they could possibly desire, each one beautiful, fair, perpetually young and eager to marry. If it was true, those Greek men were lucky men indeed. The only women Lucius ever encountered were Hebrews, who he had spent his entire life being taught were inferior. Foolish. Ugly inside and out. But then there was Procula...
No, Lucius told himself, turning for another length of the prison cells. She is married, and far too frustrating for a man such as I. She is given to emotion, and cynicism, and has on more than one occasion insulted my loyalty to Rome...
               Lucius' thoughts trailed off when he saw two eunuchs and a strikingly attractive woman saunter past his windowsill. Abandoning his millionth length of the prison, he dashed to peer out of it, the cool air a sweet relief from the stench of iron and criminals. He spotted Procula in the marketplace, and his heart (once weak from fatigue and hunger) revived. As emotional and stubborn as Lucius found her to be, she was also charming. And as he watched her greet Hebrews at random while she walked through the street, trading with the sellers and smiling at the locals, he also realised that she was kind.
               'Did you see a handsome maiden, soldier?' one of the criminals mocked from his cell. Lucius sighed and left the windowsill.
'What business is it of yours?'
               The man shrugged, chuckling to himself. Lucius began to march again when another Hebrew voice beckoned to him, this time from a crowded cell on the left.
'Excuse me, soldier, but when will we be released? It is the day of our Passover -'
'That means nothing to a Roman, Mephibosheth. Do not waste your breath seeking grace from him.' an older, apparently more pessimistic man sitting beside the other said. Lucius stopped and narrowed his eyes at him.
'Does not the governor release a prisoner of your choosing every year for the Passover, old man? And does he not allow his Hebrew servants a few hours away from their duties? Does he not suffer thousands of pilgrims to enter Jerusalem to visit your temple each year?'
'He does.' the man replied, looking up at Lucius from the ground. 'Does he not also arrest those who practise true godliness, and serve the living Lord without hypocrisy?'
               Lucius looked down at the man's shackles, confused.
'What do you mean? You are free to worship your God -'
'Are we?' the prisoner asked. 'Do you think binding men and women for trying to prevent the Son of God's death freedom?'
               Lucius stepped back from the bars, shocked. Looking around at the dozen or so men and women in that cell, he heard the old, bearded Jew go on, 'When they took Jesus, the night before last, I and these faithful people sought to stop them. For our 'blasphemy', we were cast out from Jesus' trial. Then, in the marketplace yesterday, we tried again to minister to the chief priests and tell them not to do such a wicked thing to a pure man, but we were arrested for 'disrupting the peace of Jerusalem'. Your fellow soldiers brought us here, where we had to listen to everyone outside cry 'Crucify him'! So tell me, soldier, are we 'free' to worship our God, now that you have slain him?'
               Stunned to silence, Lucius could only stand there as the cell filled with Jesus followers, of all ages and families, agreed with the old man.
'You speak as though Jesus was God himself - not only his Son.' Lucius marvelled. 'How can that be?'
'The Son is equal with the Father, soldier.' the younger man - Mephibosheth - said. 'The two are one.'
               Lucius frowned.
'You ought to be much more afraid than you are right now, young man.' the older one addressed Lucius again, his tone chilling. 'You have been complicit in the murder of the Lord. As Jesus once said, 'There is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; and hid, that shall not be known.' You will meet with your Maker in death one day, soldier. What will you say to him then, when all your sins are revealed?'
'But, but he is dead.' Lucius said, a panic rising in the pit of his belly. 'Your Jesus - your God, - is dead.'
'Do not be deceived, soldier! Jesus' spirit can never be threatened by death, nor corruption, and as for his flesh... It will walk again on this earth.'
               Lucius shook his head and tried to laugh.
'You Jews are truly mad! How could a dead body rise to life again?'
'Doubt you the power of the living God?' the old man asked, his whiskered lips twitching upwards. 'Martha, tell the soldier of your brother.'
               A woman sitting opposite the old man cleared her throat and looked directly up at Lucius. Why did his heart flutter at the sight of her? She was pretty, perhaps, for a Hebrew, but a criminal nonetheless. He tried to stand broadly when she spoke:
'My brother is Lazarus of Bethany. He was fortunate enough to evade capture with us. Two days ago, he was four days dead, but now, -'
'He lives.' Lucius finished for her. He snorted. 'I have heard men, Jewish and Roman, speak of him - though I am certain it is nonsense. Resurrection is impossible!'
'That is why it is called a 'miracle'.' Martha said, smiling patiently.
'Believe her, soldier.' a Jew beside her said. 'I heard Jesus say 'Lazarus, come forth', and the man walked straight out of his tomb. That miracle alone made the Sanhedrin hunt Jesus like a dog! Lazarus too! But Lazarus has already died a follower of Jesus once, and he would happily do so again.'
               Now Lucius had heard enough. As ludicrous as the idea of resurrection was, it (frustratingly) fit the story. The Jewish elders had bribed Judas Iscariot to betray Jesus for a great sum of money, and now Lucius knew why - even if he could not believe it. Jesus had performed the miracles of God, was the story.
               Without another word Lucius stalked away from the cell and back towards the desk. He kicked smiling Hortensia's chair over, making her head burst into a pile of straw on the stony ground. How could those prisoners preach such lunacy to him? Resurrections! Miracles! Only when Lucius saw the proof before his very eyes would he ever believe such nonsense!