The Didymus Contingency (23 page)

This is insane
, Tom thought. It went against all reasonable logic, even for the people of this time period. Even still, Tom’s eyes were locked on the cave entrance, just as everyone else’s were.

A woman in the crowd screamed in terror and ran away. Something inside the cave was moving in the darkness, skulking and shuffling toward the light of day. With each movement, the figure produced a scratching sound as if a limb or dead body were being dragged over stone. It was like a bad horror movie. What happened next was both fully expected and completely unbelievable. Everyone present, minus Jesus, took a quick step back as a hand wrapped in white burial cloth clasped onto the outside rim of the cave entrance.

All at once, the whole crowd gasped. Several people turned and ran, screaming and horrified. Some fell to their knees, legs too weak to support their weight. Others stood silently, watching, waiting for the horror to continue. Jesus turned toward the cave as a man, wrapped in cloth from head to toe, staggered into the afternoon sun.

“Take off his grave clothes and let him go,” Jesus said to no one in particular.

Martha and Mary dashed to their brother and began tearing at the cloth, desperate to see Lazarus living again. Within a minute, they had exposed his head, torso, arms and legs. Lazarus was not only living, but looked to be in perfect health. His skin wasn’t pale and wrinkly, as one would think a dead man’s skin might look. He was full of life, vibrant with blood coursing through veins, pumped by a strong heart. Lazarus was alive!

Tom was bewildered. He staggered backwards and sat atop the flat stone, which had covered the cave entrance. He watched as Mary, Martha, Jesus and Lazarus were happily reunited. There had to be some explanation. This defied all of the rules of reality, of human existence...except one.

Gripped by a frigid suspicion, Tom suddenly saw through what was happening. There was one rule, one constant of humanity that applied to this situation: deception. He and everyone else here had been conned by perhaps the greatest sleight of hand in history. Tom knew now that David Copperfield had nothing on Jesus. He looked at Lazarus, alive and well and of all things laughing. He was in on it, that’s for sure. Tom looked at Martha, tears in her eyes, but she could have known. Tom looked at Mary. He had felt her heart break. Her emotions were real. Tom was sure of it.

Jesus had carefully orchestrated this event with his closest friend, Lazarus. They had conspired against everyone they knew and loved to further Jesus’s campaign and had gone so far as to cause Megan such incredible pain.
Megan
?
Mary!
Tom realized he was transplanting his feelings of past sorrow about Megan to the present situation. But it still applied. Jesus’s crusade had killed one woman he loved and had now injured another.

Mary served Jesus and Lazarus faithfully. Megan went to Africa for him. Mary trusted that Jesus would come and save her brother, and he betrayed that trust. Megan gave her life because she believed in him. And this is how he repays people who believe? Deceit! Lies! Manipulation! Tom couldn’t allow it to continue. Not anymore.

A set of squinty eyes caught Tom’s attention. Tarsus was there, looking at him. He had seen and heard the entire event. Tarsus motioned with his head for Tom to follow, then turned and pushed his way into the crowd.

Tom stood to his feet, resolute. As he took a step to follow Tarsus, David grabbed his arm, “Isn’t this amazing?”

Tom looked at David, his complexion full of anger. David looked in the direction Tom was headed and saw Tarsus disappear into the crowd. “Where are you going?” David asked.

“I have something to take care of,” Tom said, as he yanked his arm away from David and headed after Tarsus.

David had never felt such hatred from Tom. His eyes were cold and lifeless.
Oh no
... David’s mind raced. He remembered the face of the man Tom was following. David had seen him earlier and thought he looked familiar, but couldn’t place the face. But he remembered now—Tarsus, one of the Pharisees. Tom was going to see the Pharisees. Or had he seen them already? What was he planning to do? David’s heart began to race as he considered all the possibilities.

Careful not to be discovered, David followed after Tom. If Tom planned on betraying Jesus, it would be the first inaccuracy David had seen in the Bible thus far. Could something like this have been omitted? David had witnessed a miracle, a life being brought back to the world, but if the Bible were wrong, if the word of God was inaccurate, it would shake his faith beyond repair. Maybe the events after today would be recorded incorrectly? Maybe there were two betrayers among the disciples? Maybe Jesus wouldn’t rise from the dead? David knew the rest of the world was safe from the prospect of a world without Jesus Christ as God, but as for him personally, he wasn’t sure anymore. David knew that the choices Tom made in the next few hours could change everything he believed.

*   *   *   *   *

The busy streets of Jerusalem provided David with a series of excellent hiding spots as he chased after Tom and Tarsus, who were now headed for the upper city. David was happy to see that the upper city was busy as well. He moved from building to building, staying in the shadows and acting as inconspicuous as possible. Tom had no idea he was being followed.

David watched as Tom and Tarsus entered an extravagant building, which David recognized as one of the Pharisee meeting places. It was bright white and smooth with columns on either side of the thick, solid oak door. This was truly the Beverly Hills of ancient Israel. David scanned the front of the building and noticed a walkway around the second floor, which he thought must look down upon an open atrium. He knew this would be his only chance to find out what was going on behind that door.

After leaning out from his hiding place behind a well-groomed donkey, David searched the road for prying eyes and found none. The streets this far into the upper city were almost always quiet save for the occasional heated debate. But right now, the streets were empty, which suited David’s plans perfectly. He bolted across the road and hid behind a Roman-made statue of Julius Caesar, meant to remind even the rich who was in charge of their lives. Behind the statue, a tall wall decorated with an elaborate and colorful mosaic of Moses studying the law rose to about four feet below the second floor walkway. David grabbed hold of Caesar’s solid forearm, planted a foot on the figure’s backside and heaved himself up, praying the statue would hold his weight. Should he tip it over and be caught, it would surely cost him his life. David leaned over with both hands and grabbed the top of the wall, his feet firmly planted on the statue’s buttocks.

Just then, the front door of the building swung open and two voices spilled out into the street. Two servants exited and headed toward the lower city, both grumbling about their masters. One of the servants laughed and looked back toward the building. He stopped and grabbed the other man’s arm. David had been spotted!

David stared at the men as he hung between the statue and the wall. They looked at him, studied his face, his clothes. David didn’t know what to do. His mind raced and no feasible solution came to mind. He did the only thing he could think to do. To David’s surprise, the two servants returned his smile, nodded to him in approval and then they turned and left without a word. David sighed, thanking God that these men had as much contempt for their masters as he did.

With a burst of energy gained by the adrenaline that surged through his body as he was caught in the act, David pushed off the statue and pulled himself up onto the wall. From there it was a quick jump and heave over the walkway’s railing. David lay on his belly and slid across the floor to an open window from which he could hear voices. He poked his head around the corner and looked into the wide-open room. There were ten Pharisees sitting around Tom, who had the center stage. David recognized several of the Pharisees: Silas, Simeon, Gamaliel and Tarsus—all had confronted Jesus at one time or another over the past years. And the man Tom was standing in front of...that was Caiaphas, the high priest. David knew this was no ordinary meeting.

Tom felt as uncomfortable with these men as he did at LightTech black tie events where he was required to shmooze with investors. It was true that Tom made as much money in a year as most men in a lifetime, but he preferred to live like the average guy. These were the kind of men who loved their money and had no qualms over showing it. But they were a means to an end. Tom was sure they could help discredit Jesus. Tom remained silent as Tarsus finished up his tale of Lazarus being brought back from the dead.

“He did what?” Caiaphas asked.

“Raised him from the dead!” Tarsus replied insistently.

Caiaphas looked at Tom. “And you witnessed this as well?”

“Yes,” said Tom, though he did not believe Jesus had really brought Lazarus from the dead. But that’s what Jesus wanted people to believe, so that’s what he’d get.

“How?” Caiaphas asked.

“He had the stone removed from the grave by some of his disciples. He simply yelled the man’s name and commanded him to come out,” Tarsus explained.

Caiaphas leaned back and addressed Tom again. “And you, his...disciple... Why have you come to tell us this?”

“It is true that I am called a disciple of Jesus. But he gave me the title against my will. I do not believe what he teaches. I do not believe he is God or what he does is from God. Truly, I am not his disciple.”

Caiaphas was very pleased with Tom’s answer. “I see...and would you work to prove such things to be false? Would you work to undo what Jesus has done?”

“That’s why I’m here,” Tom replied.

“Can you confirm some items for us then?” Caiaphas asked, eager to get on with the questioning.

“Certainly,” Tom replied.

“Does Jesus claim to be one and the same as God the Father?”

“Yes.”

“Does he claim to heal the sick and lame with power bestowed upon him by the Father, even on the Sabbath?”

“Yes.”

“Does he speak openly against us, the teachers of the divine law of Moses?”

“Yes.”

“You see! It’s as I told you. Jesus does such things while claiming to be God the Father!” Tarsus said.

David heard every word. He turned away from the window full of rage. He knew if he didn’t leave now he would confront the men and perhaps even be killed for his insolence. David had heard enough. Tom was betraying Jesus. He was betraying David. He was making a lie out of the Bible. David knew now that there were two turncoats in the disciple’s ranks, and Tom was one of them. David climbed back down to the street and walked away, looking at the ground, full of confusion and questions.

The Pharisees grew more excited. “If we let him go on like this everyone will believe in him!” Silas shouted. “The Romans won’t stand for it!”

“I agree,” Simeon said. “They’ll destroy the temple and take our nation from us. We must demand that Jesus stop at once.”

Tom’s eyes bounced from one Pharisee to the next as they eagerly agreed. He stopped on the face of Caiaphas, who cracked a smile, as though he had just had the most wonderful thought. “Do you not realize what an opportunity this presents, for all of us? The death of one man can be the catalyst for something much greater. He will be silenced, permanently, and our nation will become a strong body again as a result,” Caiaphas said.

“With us at its head!” agreed Tarsus happily.

The room was all nods and smiles. “We must be careful in our actions. Only a conviction of crimes punishable by death will serve our cause. Killing him outright will enrage the masses,” Silas said.

Tarsus raised and clenched his fist dramatically, “Then we must turn the masses against him!”

Caiaphas turned to Tom again. “Can we count on your help?”

Tom felt sick to his stomach. This isn’t what he came here to accomplish. “You...you plan to kill him?”

“Of course,” Caiaphas replied.

Tom was terrified. He had handed his friend over to men who would kill him, and yet, if he refused to help now, they might kill him just for knowing. Tom struggled to find words and found only one. “No.”

Caiaphas blinked. “What did you say?”

“No…” Tom said nervously. “I came here to prove Jesus was a fake, a simple street magician, not to plot his death.”

Caiaphas shook his head quickly as though clearing his mind. “You have given testimony to his crimes yourself. You must understand that he—”

“Hasn’t done anything so bad as to deserve a death sentence,” Tom interrupted.

The faces of the Pharisees surrounding Tom grew grim, but Tom forged on, strengthened by the weight of his own guilt. “He’s broken some of your stupid moral laws. He’s said some things that go against what you’ve been taught, but you’re talking about a man who has been my friend regardless of our differences. I will not help you kill him.”

“Blasphemer!” Caiaphas screamed as he stood to his feet, holding a whip in his hand.

Tom eyed the whip.
Where the hell did that come from?
Does he keep one handy for moments just like this?
Before Tom could react physically, he was cracked across the face with the tip of the whip. It tore open his cheek.

Tom held his face in pain and looked back toward the thick closed door. Tarsus stood in his way.

Every Pharisee in the room was on their feet, waiting for the other to make a move. Tom decided it was in his best interest if he acted first. Tom screamed and charged Tarsus. The air burst from Tarsus’s lungs as Tom heaved his shoulder into the man’s stomach and picked him up. Tom continued forward with a stunned Tarsus in his arms and slammed into the front door, breaking it down. The two men careened into the street, Tarsus absorbing most of the impact.

Tom got to his feet quickly and jumped over the immobilized Tarsus, who was arching his back in pain. Caiaphas whipped Tom across the back, opening a bloody gash. Tom fell to his knees as the remaining nine Pharisees encircled him.

This kind of situation wasn’t completely foreign to Tom. He’d been in his fair share of brawls over the years, but never were the odds this grim. Ten on one. Tom knew his only recourse was to run, but he was surrounded. He took in each of his adversaries. Several were old for the times, perhaps close to fifty and Tom imagined that few of them had any experience fighting. Most people in Jerusalem were too afraid of the Pharisees to fight back. But Tom wasn’t most people.