Stephanus - Chapter 1 - The Council

 
Under the dark cover of night, he slipped out of his spartan quarters in the lower city near the Kidron Valley on Jerusalem’s east side. Hooded and cautious, he hurried toward the southeast, where the Essene Quarter housed the palace of the High Priest.

“Halt! Who goes there?” a sentry’s gruff voice cut through the silence.

“A nobody,” he replied softly.

“Well, nobody, step into the light of my torch so I can get a better look at you!” the sentry ordered.

As the visitor stepped forward, he lowered his hood. The sentry squinted, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “What’s a Sicarii doing in the Essene Quarter? Up to no good, I wager?”

“I hope I can be of some good,” the visitor responded.

The sentry barked a laugh, soon joined by two guards who appeared, their hands resting on their weapons, ready for trouble. “And how could you be of any good to us?” the sentry sneered. “We’ve seen you around, and your family’s reputation doesn’t exactly inspire trust.”

The two guards brandished their swords, their stance menacing. “Please, let me speak before you beat me!” the visitor pleaded.

“Alright, get on with it before my comrades lose patience,” the sentry growled.

“Y-yes, of course,” the visitor stammered. “I know your master is displeased with the one called Y’shua. I believe the entire Sanhedrin shares this view. I can help you with that problem.”

The guards exchanged glances. “You’d better come with us,” they said, gesturing sharply. To the sentry, they added, “We’re taking him to the great hall.” Turning back to the visitor, they warned, “And if you know what’s good for you, no sudden moves.”

The visitor nodded mutely, and they set off northwest toward the temple grounds. Oh, my goodness, he thought, they’re taking me to the Hall of Hewn Stone.

To his shock, the guards led him into a gathering of the Greater Sanhedrin—Pharisees, Sadducees, elders, and scribes, nearly the entire council assembled in the vast chamber. Thrust unceremoniously into the center of the half-circle, he faced the supreme tribunal of the Jews.

Nervously, he pulled his hood back over his head. A council member spoke first. “Your father is Simon, correct?”

“Yes,” came his quiet reply.

“And you are from Kerioth, in Judea, is that right?”

“Yes,” he whispered, barely audible in the cavernous hall.

Another member leaned forward. “Why have you come before us, Sicarii? You have no representation here—there are no Essenes on this council!”

Outbursts erupted from the council. “Murderer!” “Assassin!” “Why is this subversive in our presence, defiling our sacred proceedings?” Their outrage filled the chamber.

High Priest Caiaphas struck his staff against the hewn stone, silencing the room. “Enough!” he bellowed. “This man is Judas Iscariot, part of Y’shua’s inner circle. He has met privately with a member of our Lesser Sanhedrin in Qumran.” Caiaphas fixed his gaze on Judas. “You claim you can lead us to Y’shua. Is that true?”

Judas hesitated. “You ask much. Y’shua has many followers.”

“Can you, or can you not?” Caiaphas’s voice echoed sharply.

“Yes, I believe I can, given the opportunity,” Judas replied, his voice low.

What have I gotten myself into? he thought, unease creeping in.

Caiaphas pressed on. “What is your price?”

“Fifty silver pieces,” Judas blurted.

“Fifty?” a council member scoffed. “Too much! This traitor isn’t worth it!” Others echoed the sentiment, their voices rising.

Caiaphas raised a hand. “This assassin may not be worth fifty pieces, but is ridding ourselves of Y’shua worth it?”

The council erupted again, many arguing against the deal. One member stood, his voice cutting through the din. “Does anyone have a better idea? For three years, we’ve wrestled with Y’shua. He’s always two steps ahead, outsmarting us. His followers grow, ignoring our authority. If he continues, he’ll gain more power, and the Romans may see him as a threat. Will they tighten their grip on our people? Y’shua is too dangerous to let this social revolt persist. Who of us have forgotten his triumphant entrance through the Golden Gate of Mercy in the Eastren Wall of the Temple Mount! We must seize this chance, even if it means dealing with this scoundrel.”

“Scoundrel?” Judas bristled inwardly but kept his composure. “Gentlemen, I offer a simple business arrangement for my services, for an agreed-upon sum,” he said evenly.

“Not fifty silver pieces,” Caiaphas declared, as shouts of agreement rose. “Throw this beggar out!”

As the guards moved toward him, Judas panicked. “Wait!” he shouted. “I’ll take less. How about forty pieces?”

“You have no power to bargain here!” a council member snapped. “You cannot negotiate with the Sanhedrin!”

Annas, the former High Priest, who had been silent, finally spoke. “With the council’s approval, we offer thirty pieces of silver.”

“Agreed,” Judas said without hesitation.

“What exactly do we get for thirty pieces?” a skeptic demanded.

“I’m part of Y’shua’s inner circle,” Judas explained. “I can get close to him without suspicion. I know his habits, where he gathers with his disciples. I’ll lead you to him when the time is right.”

"When the time is right?" echoed a council member, "What does that mean?"

"it means you will not have to deal with a large nunber of diciples." Judas Iscariot assured them.

Doubts lingered. “You’d betray him for money? How can we trust you?” another asked.

Judas straightened. “I believe Y’shua has become too radical. Recently, he lost followers when he spoke of being the bread of life, saying, ‘If you eat my flesh and drink my blood, you shall have eternal life.’ Many left, unable to accept it. I struggled too.”

“Why did you stay?” a council member pressed.

“I only appeared to stay,” Judas corrected. “As an apostle, leaving would’ve drawn attention. But in my heart, I’d already departed, like the others. I cannot accept his teachings about eating his body and drinking his blood. It’s too strange.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over the council.