11: Why was Jesus killed?

The inevitable centrepiece of a pilgrimage to the Holy Land is the Via Dolorosa, the Stations of the Cross more so, perhaps, since the film The Passion of the Christ, which has painted a particular picture of Jesus’ last walk and death.

The Via Dolorosa (“Way of Sorrows”) is not quite the route Jesus followed on the way to Calvary, nor are all the stations scriptural. But this matters little. The destination is the basis of our faith Jesus crucifixion and resurrection on Golgotha, on which today stands the mighty church of the Holy Sepulchre.

The Passion account is somewhat puzzling, at least that of the synoptic Gospels. How could all the events of the narrative be squeezed into a timeframe of less than 24 hours: the Last Supper, the agony and arrest in Gethsemane, the hearing in the Sanhedrin, the incarceration, the to and fro leading to Jesus’ condemnation by Pontius Pilate, the scourging, the way of the cross, then the crucifixion and finally death all by 3:00 on Friday afternoon?

The late Fr Bargil Pixner OSB, made a persuasive case that Jesus was in fact arrested on the night of the Tuesday before Passover, which would be congruous with the account in John’s gospel. His book, With Jesus in Jerusalem (published in 1996 by Corazin, Rosh Pina) postulates that Jesus’ Passover meal was scheduled, probably by his half-brother James, according to the Essene religious calendar, which differed from that used by the other Jewish denominations of the time, the Pharisees and Saduccees.

Father Pixner believed that Jesus was executed primarily for political reasons. The supposed blasphemy certainly played a role in the trial, but the primary motive for Jesus’ arrest was the danger he posed to the establishment’s relations with the Roman occupiers. Likewise, many scholars now acknowledge that Judas betrayed Christ not for profit, but because Jesus was not the insurgent Judas (who as a Zealout was the only non-Galilean among the disciples) thought he was. Fr Pixner speculates that Judas did not anticipate that Jesus would receive the death penalty, but hoped that his arrest would spark some seditious fervour in his leader. Judas did not understand that the revolution Jesus spoke of was not of this world.

For the high priests, led by Josephus Caiaphas, Jesus posed the precise danger Judas was clamouring for. Two years earlier (according to Fr Pixner’s timeline), Jesus had caused quite a scene in the temple for the order of which Caiaphas was responsible. Now he was back, performing acts of “scorcery”  on the Sabbath!  and attracting ardent support with his messianic talk.

Caiaphas’ considerable diplomatic skill had kept him on the right side of the thuggish Pontius Pilate. He feared that Jesus the Nazarene, a troublemaker, might upset the fine balance that had kept the Jewish rebels in check, and the Romans happy. John’s gospel provides us with Caiaphas’ rationale in a nutshell: “it is more to your interest that one man should die for the people, than the whole nation be destroyed” (11:50). Translation: “If we don’t get rid of him, we’ll all get it from the Romans.”

And so Jesus’ fate was sealed long before his arrest, even if the high priests did follow all the correct juridical procedures. Of course, a death sentence could be passed only by the Romans. And so Jesus appeared before Pontius Pilate, reputedly a cruel and uncultured character (quite in contrast to the rather sympathetic ditherer in Mel Gibson’s movie). Pilate knew much about self-proclaimed Messiahs. Messianic movements were a dime a dozen at the time, and they always spelled trouble. The Romans were quick to put these pesky Messiahs to death.

Yet, John’s account of the conversation between Pilate and Jesus suggests that the Roman procurator had his doubts (16:34-36), perhaps seeing Jesus not as a political agitator, but as a philosopher. The Gospels tell us that Pilate tried his best not to condemn Jesus. In this, one may suspect a little malicious spite on Pilate’s part towards the high priests there, rather than uncharacteristic compassion for the man Jesus. When he failed, he washed his hands of this whole affair, and condemned the prisoner to the most savage death: “Ibis in crucem”  crucify him. In doing so, Pontius cannot be accused of having oozed compassion. The manner of this type of execution suited the Romans: other aspiring messianic insurgents would be sent a clear message of deterrence, more so since for Jews crucifixion was also the most humiliating form of execution.

And so today pilgrims follow the route of the cross, as they have for five centuries, starting at the place where the Antonia Fortress once stood (today it is the courtyard of a Muslim school), and ending in the kiosk that marks the tomb inside the church of the Holy Sepulchre.

In an exhibition of admirable wisdom, our guide Iyad Qumri ordered our group out of bed at 4:30am. Anyone who has walked the Way of the Cross during the day, especially on a Friday, will recall the chaos as it snakes its way through the Muslim school and the market towards Stations 10 to 14 inside the crowded church of the Holy Sepulchre.

In a way, the chaos can complement the experience, giving the pilgrim a tiny taste of the hustle and bustle around Jesus as he carried his cross to Calvary. But the experience leaves little time for prayerful reflection. By starting before sunrise, we avoided the crowds and had the time for fruitful reflection.

We had a memorable Mass in the Catholic chapel immediately next to the Greek altar which stands above the spot of the crucifixion. Of all the places in the Holy Land, this must be the most haunting, meaningful place to celebrate the Eucharist.