The trial was not a trial. There were no witnesses.
Temple officials conferred.
Roman authority was not involved.
A judge or priest condemned me to death.
Such authority had been denied forty years ago by the Romans. Being aware of this added to my resentment; I tried to speak out but was silenced. From the courtyard I was marched to the paved square called Babbatha; troops lined the square, spectators gathered. The sun’s warmth lessened my pain. One of the guards, secretly, gave me bread. I saw Judas with Pontius Pilate; Pilate was accompanied by councilors, guards. I felt I had been hurled into a wholly alien world—enemy world.
Pilate, stepping forward in his robe, asked Caiaphas the nature of my crime. I will remember that scarlet robe.
Caiaphas, annoyed, said:
“If he were not a malefactor we would not bring him before you.” Pilate understood the evasion. He responded:
“Take him, judge him according to your law.”
A priest declared: