Centurion: King Herod is sending back the prisoner, Governor Pilate,
and he wants you to know that he is confirming whatever decision you
make.
Pilate: Really? So, not even Herod wants to have anything to
do with his subject…
Centurion: He also wants to inform you that his order of the best
wine from Arabia has come. Today, this afternoon, the eve of the great
Sabbath, he wishes to try it with you…
Pilate: Well, well, I like that…
Centurion: Good wine and pretty women…. You already know the parties
hosted by the palace tetrach…
Pilate: Sure, I know. There’s none in the whole country as brazen
as he is. But let’s admit it, no one ever organizes better parties than
he does! Tell Herod we shall arrive on time at his party… And we’ll
be the last ones to leave!
Centurion: That’s well understood, Governor.
Pilate: Well then, centurion, you may leave.
Centurion: Excuse me, Governor. I have the prisoner downstairs.
What shall I do with him?
Pilate: Oh yes... I forgot about the Nazarene… Make him talk.
I want more information about this group he works with.
Centurion: By scourging?
Pilate: Yes, whatever is necessary to make him talk. Find out
their plans, where they meet, and above all, who are involved. I want
their names, do you understand? Let him spill the beans. Then we’ll
find out their connections in the provinces.
Centurion: Leave everything to me, Governor.
Pilate: Be careful. The Nazarene is a brave little cock.
Centurion: In that case, we’ll shed his feathers to make him talk
better…!
From Herod’s palace, in the high barrio of Jerusalem, the soldiers went
back to Antonia Fortress, bringing the heavily guarded Jesus. Notwithstanding
the beatings received in front of the Galilean king, we gathered again
at the foot of the Roman fortress, demanding freedom for Jesus and for
those who had been arrested during the holidays…
A
Man: Set Jesus free! The man is innocent!
A
Woman: Freedom for Jesus and for the prisoners!
That Friday, in spite of the rain, the Temple’s courtyard teemed with
pilgrims buying animals to be sacrificed at the altar of the priests.
The lambs, arranged in a row, and without protesting, were beheaded
one by one over the altar stone, which was totally drenched in blood.
When the pilgrims heard about the turmoil in front of the Roman quarters,
they left the Temple to join us in protest…
All: Freedom, freedom, freedom!!
In the midst of that uproar, we saw the high priest, Joseph Caiphas,
enter the Antonia Fortress through a private corridor connecting the
Temple to the Roman quarters…
Pilate: An amnesty? Is that what you have come for, your Excellency?…
I had even thought of having all of them hanged, to teach them a lesson!
Caiphas: One does not contradict the other, Governor. In this
regard, our ancestors have this to say: With one hand you discipline,
and with the other, you smooth with oil.
Pilate: I admire your wisdom, illustrious Caiphas. I might end
up naming you as my state counsel. Speak more, I’m listening.
Caiphas: The people are clamoring for the prisoners’ freedom,
Governor. Very well. You may grant a reprieve. It will pacify them.
But some crosses have to be put up, to teach them a lesson.
Pilate: And who is this prisoner you want to set free?
Caiphas: Let the people decide…
Pilate: If I let them, I’m sure they’ll choose the Nazarene.
Caiphas: Unless my men take care of it. Leave this to me, Governor.
Who knows, they might ask for Barabbas. That’s right, set Barabbas free.
What do you think?
Pilate: No, Barabbas is a dangerous man. We had a hard time catching
him!
Caiphas: You may leave the cage open, but the bird’s wings must
be clipped… This way, it cannot fly very far…
Pilate: I see what you mean, your Excellency… It’s not a bad
idea… Say, are you coming tonight to savor the Arab wine of Herod?
Caiphas: But of course… Hopefully, the case of the Nazarene shall
have been resolved… He will have been condemned to death, is that right?
Pilate: But before that, I’d like to stretch out his tongue a
little to make him reveal his collaborators and those involved in this
conspiracy. He’s downstairs, right now, in Hell. Hannibal, the centurion,
is working him over…
The centurion called one of the executioners, and the two pushed Jesus
to the dungeons of the Antonia Fortress. The Roman soldiers called the
place Hell. It was a dark, humid basement, reeking of blood and excrement,
where prisoners were tortured. Above the stone walls could be seen the
iron collars, the shackles, the pliars for pulling out the nails and
gouging the eyes, and the blades for castrating…. In a corner were piled
up poles for crosses and the turnstiles… At the center, was a rack for
twisting arms and joints, as well as the low columns used for flagellating
the prisoners…
The Hell was full during the holidays. A line of Jewish patriots awaited
their turn to be beaten and tortured. A number of zealots and young
sympathizers of the movement had died in that dungeon after receiving
thirty-nine lashes…
Centurion: Hey, you my friend, let’s see how many you can take…
They brought Jesus to one of the those shortened posts used for torture
by lashing. The stone was still dripping with the blood of the previous
victims…
Centurion: Will you talk or not?… I want the names of the conspirators.
Jesus: I won’t say anything.
Centurion: Then we’ll have to soften your tongue a little… Remove
his robe. Tie him.
The executioner stripped Jesus almost naked and pushed him on to the
post. His hands and feet were tied to an iron collar that was nailed
to the base, such that his whole body, with his head bowed down, formed
an arch over the stone… Then, the whip was lowered from the wall. It
was a whip with eight leather strips, each with a small iron ball at
one end, the size of an almond. These little balls had small hooks to
tear the flesh of one’s back…
Centurion: Talk! Where are these Galileans who made trouble during
the holidays?… Who are your supporters here in the capital? Speak up,
you wretch!…
The executioner pressed the wooden handle and the lashes just awaited
the orders of the centurion…
Centurion: Begin.
The whip was raised in the air and landed violently on Jesus’ naked
back.
Centurion: Now, do you recall their names?… Not yet?… Whom
are you working for?… Who pays you?…
C’mon, talk!… I command you to talk!…
The blood began to flow on his back. The little iron balls stuck to
his flesh tearing and breaking it open….
Centurion: Now confess! Who are with you?… Where are your friends
hiding…?
The executioner’s whip continuously landed on the bent body of Jesus.
In front of him, the centurion grabbed him by the hair, then lifted
his face…
Centurion: Talk, you Jewish dog!… I command you!… Who are your companions?
Where do they meet?… Now, give it to him on the legs!
The executioner moved to the side and landed the whip on the back of
his legs, on his calves, on the heels of his feet… Jesus’ arched body
collapsed on the post, as he began to suffocate...
Centurion: Confess! Who else are with you?… Damn it, beat him harder,
till he talks!!
The Roman governor went down the courtyard and ordered the gates facing
the patio opened, so that all of us who were shoving each other in front
of the fortress could hear him… Then we noticed that a group of the
family members and servants of the priests of the Temple and the magistrates
of the Sanhedrin had sneaked into the first rows…. Pontius Pilate, seated
on a Tribunal chair, demanded silence….
Pilate: Citizens, we are here on holidays. Rome is magnanimous
and listens to the voice of the people. You are demanding freedom for
the prisoners. Well then, that will be granted!
When the governor said that, all of us looked at each other with relief.
Mary, Jesus’ mother, who was beside me, gave a stunned smile, as if
she could not believe what she heard… Pontius Pilate, well-shaven and
wrapped in a purple robe, continued….
Pilate: I
am granting amnesty to a prisoner, whom you yourselves will elect. Now
you’ve heard it: Whom do you want me to release? Paid
Group: Release Barabbas! Release Barabbas!
People: Release Jesus! Release Jesus!
Everything went fast and was confusing… Those in the first row were
frenetically clamoring for Barabbas. We, at the back, the great majority,
shouted for Jesus… The governor raised his hands asking for silence…
Pilate: Silence!… I cannot hear you with such an uproar… Soldiers,
control the mob… I repeat, whom do you want me to release?
The soldiers were pushing us backward with their shields and they were
threatening us, as the group hired by the priests and the magistrates
continued screaming, while being protected by the Roman troops…
Pilate: Very well. If the people want Barabbas, then Barabbas
is free.
Two soldiers took up the zealot leader from the dungeon and set him
free amid the multitude. Barabbas rubbed his skinned wrists, and without
stopping to talk to anyone, slipped away, passing through the streets
of Barrio Ephraim. Behind him were some soldiers who were secretly following
him. Their mission was to arrest him when the holidays were over.
Meanwhile, in Hell…
Centurion: Who works with you? What are their names…?
The leather whip spurted blood on the walls of the prison cell. The
small iron balls sunk deeper each time, into the broken tissues, becoming
embedded in the ribs… Jesus’ back was a mass of bloody flesh…
Centurion: Speak up, damn!… I command you to speak up!…
Executioner: This man can’t talk anymore. He’s almost dead.
Centurion: How many lashings did you give him?
Executioner: About thirty-nine already.
Centurion: Make it exact, then.
Executioner: What if he dies…?
Centurion: It doesn’t matter anymore… Anyway, for the last time,
talk! Tell me the names of your companions!
But Jesus did not say anything. When the centurion lifted his face,
his eyes were expressionless. Jesus had passed out.
Centurion: Untie this hunk of raw flesh and throw him some place.
Damn these people who won’t talk.
He was so beaten he no longer looked like a man.
He was scourged, wounded, and humiliated,
but no word came from his mouth.
He was maltreated by people without pity,
beaten to no end by the unjust,
yet he bore the pain for our sake.
Like a silent lamb to be sacrificed,
like a sheep, mute before those who shear him,
neither did he open his lips nor utter a word.