Herod refused to try me and ordered guards to return me to Pontius Pilate. It was then, as we recrossed the bridge where the populace jeered, it was then I attempted to think of home. Something like an actual wall blocked me. All the emptiness of life, the savageness of the wilderness, the enmity of mankind, came into being. I prayed but prayer was useless. A man held my arm or I would have fallen: his sword hit my side.
ÿ
Peter’s
Iyyar 25
Pilate resented a jeering mob and tried to establish order.
He commanded men to assume positions in the Babbatha yard. Calling several priests, he said, shouting at them:
“You have brought this man before me. You say he perverts the people. I find no fault in him. I will punish him and release him.”
He sat on his tribunal chair, his wife beside him. Raising his hand he resumed:
“I will free a man. Who will it be? Barabbas? Do you want Barabbas free or Christ? Choose your man.”
“Barabbas...Barabbas,” the priests shouted, and the crowd repeated his name, a man known for his crimes.