Archive for March 20th, 2008

History of the Trial

THE TRIAL OF JESUS

The trial of Jesus leading up to his crucifixion was actually a series of perhaps half a dozen trials, across several locations in Jerusalem, some of which are captured in the tradition of the Via Dolorosa, the Way of Sorrow, a series of locations that pilgrims take through the streets of modern Jerusalem commemorating the last hours before Jesus arrival at Golgotha.

HOUSE OF ANNAS

Jesus was brought before the powerful ex-high priest for a hearing prior to formal arraignment before the son-in-law Caiaphas. Jesus knowing this to be essentially a lower court inquiry blunted Annas‘ questions by answering that what was known about him was “…public record”.

PALACE OF CAIAPHAS

As it was after dark and the gates of the Temple were locked, certain members of the Sanhedrin met in the south west quarter of the city at the palace of the high priest Caiaphas, whose name means “inquisitor”. It was difficult to find a solid charge to stick on Jesus as the witnesses that were found could not agree, and according to Jewish Law, a minimum of two witnesses had to concur on a charge. A number of charges and questions were put to Jesus, but he refused to answer. Since no proven evidence had been introduced, Jesus was not legally obligated to answer, and Caiaphas knew it. If Caiaphas could not introduce a proven charge the case would collapse and Jesus would be more popular with the people while the Sanhedrin would be embarrassed. The high priest devised a plan that would create seventy witnesses. He prefaced his final question with the dreaded “Oath of the Covenant”. A reply of silence would be criminal, a false answer would be damnable. He said,

“I adjure you, by the living God, that you tell us whether are you the Christ, the Son of God.”

Jesus not only answered affirmatively, but added that he was the Son of Man, an Old Testament title for God’s vice-regent on earth, a peer as it were, a divine being.

The high priest, hearing what he believed was blasphemy in his presence, tore his garments. He asked the assembled members of the Sanhedrin, seated in a semicircle around him, for their vote. The vote proceeded from the youngest to the oldest, so the elders might not unduly influence the younger members. The Temple police then beat the prisoner, which was standard operating procedure for the condemned. One problem remained; night trials by the Sanhedrin were illegal except in monetary cases. Therefore, the full council met again the next day, shortly after dawn for a roll call vote. A final complication arose. To avoid hasty convictions, the Jewish law postponed sentencing until the day following the trial. But this was illegal as the next day was the Sabbath, when only acquittals could be returned. However, in this emergency situation, this could be disregarded.

The Jerusalem Talmud tells us that forty years before the destruction of the Temple (A.D. 70) the right to inflict the death penalty had been taken from Israel. As it was now Friday, April 3, 33 A.D., the Sanhedrin had to have the judgment ratified by the Roman provincial ruler, Pontius Pilate, who reserved the jus gladii, the law of the sword.

PILATE’S PRAETORIUM

The Roman prefect’s usual residence was in the Roman capital, Caeserea, on the coast. As it was the time of the Jewish Passover, and the numbers of people in Jerusalem grew, Pilate journeyed to the Jewish capital to keep an eye on things. In front of the governor’s Jerusalem residence, Herod’s Palace, the members of the Sanhedrin gathered. As it was the beginning of the Jewish holiday, they remained outside the Gentile residence so as not to defile themselves. Pilate asked, “What charges do you bring against this man?” If the Sanhedrin were expecting the governor to rubber-stamp their judgment, they were disappointed, for this was the interragatio, the opening formula of a Roman trial. Pilate began to try Jesus himself. Since the Jews could not tell the governor that Jesus was guilty of blasphemy, a religious charge that would make no difference to a Roman, they produced three charges: subverting the nation, forbidding tribute money to Tiberius Caesar, and claims of Messiah.

The first charge was serious, but needed proof, and Jesus had seemed to avoid politics. The second Pilate knew to be a lie, as the Pharisees themselves protested the tax. The third was the gravest. It was maiestas, high treason, the most heinous in Roman law (see earlier historical note on Pontius Pilate). After questioning the accused, Pilate could not get to the truth of the matter, and as it was now after dawn the crowds outside who were aware of the proceedings were getting noisy and ugly. Pilate heard someone mention something about Jesus being from Galilee. This would be to Pilate’s advantage, for Herod Antipas, the ruler of Galilee was in town and Pilate could easily and legally transfer the venue from the forum delicti, the place of offense, to the forum domicilii, the place of residence.

HEROD ANTIPAS’ HASMONEAN PALACE

The Sanhedrin could expect a more favorable decision from Herod Antipas since he had aided them before in affair of the votive shields. And Antipas was genuinely pleased to see Jesus, about whom he had heard much. However, Jesus would provide him with no sport. Although he appreciated that Pilate would do him this boon, he could not suffer the unpopularity of putting to death another prophet after killing John the Baptist. So after allowing his troops to give Jesus a gorgeous robe and then mock him, he sent the accused back to Pilate. The gospel writers tell us that after this Antipas showed his gratefulness to Pilate in friendship.

PILATE AGAIN

At this point, the gospel of St. John tells us, Pilate took the initiative and suggested flogging Jesus as an object lesson and releasing him. This practice of fustigatio was to serve as a warning against further wrong doing. This did not satisfy the Sanhedrin, who were beginning to see Pilate equivocate and suspected an actual release. It was at this point that they pulled out their trump card, the ace up the sleeve.

“If you release this man you are no friend of Caesar, everyone who makes himself out to be a king opposes Caesar.”

This was the key that would link the religious and the political. Pilate’s status as amici Caesaris was in danger. His political career would be over, if not his life as well. He had already been warned once by the emperor himself. Pilate then passed sentence against this “king of the Jews”: constructive treason - implied maiestas.

Bill Petro, your friendly neighborhood historian
www.billpetro.com

from Paul L. Maier’s In the Fullness of Time

History of Maundy Thursday

MAUNDY THURSDAY

Amid the bustle of Palm Sunday, Good Friday, and Easter, Maundy Thursday is easy to overlook. Few calendars label it, and some churches don’t observe it at all, though it may be the oldest of the Holy Week observances. It’s worth asking why, and how, generations of Christians have revered this day.

The Middle English word “Maundy” comes from the Latin mandatum, meaning “command.” The reference is John 13:34:

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.”

Jesus spoke those words at the Last Supper, which took place the Thursday before Easter.

Later tradition, however, suggests the term comes either from the Saxon word mand, which afterwards became maund, a name for a basket, and subsequently for any gift or offering contained in the basket… or from the French word maund, from Old French mendier, which in turn comes from Latin mendicare, meaning “to beg.” In both of these cases they converge in the English tradition, dating back to King John in 1210, of the crown giving gifts to the poor on this date in a container called a “maund” or “maundy purse.”

In the Roman Catholic tradition, Maundy Thursday Evening marks the beginning of Easter Triduum. A triduum is a space of three days usually accompanying a church festival or holy days that are devoted to special prayer and observance. Maundy Thursday is followed by Good Friday, Holy Saturday and concludes with evening prayers on Easter Sunday.

Protestant churches that do observe Maundy Thursday may offer a dramatic re-enactment of the Last Supper or another special Communion service. Foot-washing services and adapted Passover Seders are also fairly popular, especially in Anglican, Lutheran, and other liturgical Protestant churches. Not surprisingly, Protestants generally stick close to Biblical texts when constructing a special service. Catholic and Orthodox traditions add a few other elements to the observance.

During medieval times, Maundy Thursday was sometimes called Shere Thursday, shere meaning “pure” or “guilt-free.” (”Shere” also had something to do with shearing, as it was customary for medieval men to cut their hair and beards on this day.) Medieval Christians believed they could achieve purity by performing penance throughout Lent. The Catholic church recognized the achievement by formally reconciling penitents and, in some areas, giving them a green branch. New converts who had prepared their hearts, and memorized their creed, during Lent were taken through baptism at the Thursday service.

Because of the Maundy Thursday connection with baptism, it has long been a Catholic custom to consecrate the year’s supply of holy oils for baptism, anointing the sick, and Confirmation on this day. Orthodox clergy take time during the liturgy to prepare the “Amnos,” the Communion elements that will be given to the sick throughout the year.

A few European countries have added cultural observances to the list of church traditions. In England, the monarch distributes small purses of Maundy Money to elderly residents of the town selected for each year’s service. The practice dates back to 1210, when King John gave garments, knives, food, and other gifts to poor men on Maundy Thursday in accordance with Christ’s mandate to love others. Germans, who call the day Gründonnerstag (”Green Thursday”), eat green vegetables, especially spinach. The association with green may come from the gift of green branches to penitents or from a confusion of the old German words meaning “green” (grun) and “to weep” (greinen), connected to the English word “to groan.”

Bill Petro, your friendly neighborhood historian
www.billpetro.com