FATE OF THE ENEMIES OF JESUS.
According to the calculation we adopt, the death of Jesus happened in
the year 33 of our era.[1] It could not, at all events, be either
before the year 29, the preaching of John and Jesus having commenced
in the year 28,[2] or after the year 35, since in the year 36, and
probably before the passover, Pilate and Kaïapha both lost their
offices.[3] The death of Jesus appears, moreover, to have had no
connection whatever with these two removals.[4] In his retirement,
Pilate probably never dreamt for a moment of the forgotten episode,
which was to transmit his pitiful renown to the most distant
posterity. As to Kaïapha, he was succeeded by Jonathan, his
brother-in-law, son of the same Hanan who had played the principal
part in the trial of Jesus. The Sadducean family of Hanan retained the
pontificate a long time, and more powerful than ever, continued to
wage against the disciples and the family of Jesus, the implacable war
which they had commenced against the Founder. Christianity, which owed
to him the definitive act of its foundation, owed to him also its
first martyrs. Hanan passed for one of the happiest men of his
age.[5] He who was truly guilty of the death of Jesus ended his life
full of honors and respect, never having doubted for an instant that
he had rendered a great service to the nation. His sons continued to
reign around the temple, kept down with difficulty by the
procurators,[6] ofttimes dispensing with the consent of the latter in
order to gratify their haughty and violent instincts.
[Footnote 1: The year 33 corresponds well with one of the data of the
problem, namely, that the 14th of Nisan was a Friday. If we reject the
year 33, in order to find a year which fulfils the above condition, we
must at least go back to the year 29, or go forward to the year 36.]
[Footnote 2: Luke iii. 1.]
[Footnote 3: Jos., _Ant._, XVIII. iv. 2 and 3.]
[Footnote 4: The contrary assertion of Tertullian and Eusebius arises
from a worthless apocryphal writing (See Philo, _Cod. Apocr., N.T._,
p. 813, and following.) The suicide of Pilate (Eusebius, _H.E._, ii.
7; _Chron._ ad annl. Caii) appears also to be derived from legendary
records.]
[Footnote 5: Jos., _Ant._, XX. ix. 1.]
[Footnote 6: Jos., _l.c._]
Antipas and Herodias soon disappeared also from the political scene.
Herod Agrippa having been raised to the dignity of king by Caligula,
the jealous Herodias swore that she also would be queen. Pressed
incessantly by this ambitious woman, who treated him as a coward,
because he suffered a superior in his family, Antipas overcame his
natural indolence, and went to Rome to solicit the title which his
nephew had just obtained (the year 39 of our era). But the affair
turned out in the worst possible manner. Injured in the eyes of the
emperor by Herod Agrippa, Antipas was removed, and dragged out the
rest of his life in exile at Lyons and in Spain. Herodias followed him
in his misfortunes.[1] A hundred years, at least, were to elapse
before the name of their obscure subject, now become deified, should
appear in these remote countries to brand upon their tombs the murder
of John the Baptist.
[Footnote 1: Jos., _Ant._, XVIII. vii. 1, 2; _B.J._, II. ix. 6.]
As to the wretched Judas of Kerioth, terrible legends were current
about his death. It was maintained that he had bought a field in the
neighborhood of Jerusalem with the price of his perfidy. There was,
indeed, on the south of Mount Zion, a place named _Hakeldama_ (the
field of blood[1]). It was supposed that this was the property
acquired by the traitor.[2] According to one tradition,[3] he killed
himself. According to another, he had a fall in his field, in
consequence of which his bowels gushed out.[4] According to others, he
died of a kind of dropsy, accompanied by repulsive circumstances,
which were regarded as a punishment from heaven.[5] The desire of
showing in Judas the accomplishment of the menaces which the Psalmist
pronounces against the perfidious friend[6] may have given rise to
these legends. Perhaps, in the retirement of his field of Hakeldama,
Judas led a quiet and obscure life; while his former friends conquered
the world, and spread his infamy abroad. Perhaps, also, the terrible
hatred which was concentrated on his head, drove him to violent acts,
in which were seen the finger of heaven.
[Footnote 1: St. Jerome, _De situ et nom. loc. hebr._ at the word
_Acheldama_. Eusebius (_ibid._) says to the north. But the Itineraries
confirm the reading of St. Jerome. The tradition which styles the
necropolis situated at the foot of the valley of Hinnom _Haceldama_,
dates back, at least, to the time of Constantine.]
[Footnote 2: _Acts_ i. 18, 19. Matthew, or rather his interpolator,
has here given a less satisfactory turn to the tradition, in order to
connect with it the circumstance of a cemetery for strangers, which
was found near there.]
[Footnote 3: Matt. xxvii. 5.]
[Footnote 4: _Acts_, _l.c._; Papias, in Oecumenius, _Enarr. in Act.
Apost._, ii., and in Fr. Münter, _Fragm. Patrum Græc._ (Hafniæ, 1788),
fasc. i. p. 17, and following; Theophylactus, in Matt. xxvii. 5.]
[Footnote 5: Papias, in Münter, _l.c._; Theophylactus, _l.c._]
[Footnote 6: Psalms lxix. and cix.]
The time of the great Christian revenge was, moreover, far distant.
The new sect had no part whatever in the catastrophe which Judaism was
soon to undergo. The synagogue did not understand till much later to
what it exposed itself in practising laws of intolerance. The empire
was certainly still further from suspecting that its future destroyer
was born. During nearly three hundred years it pursued its path
without suspecting that at its side principles were growing destined
to subject the world to a complete transformation. At once theocratic
and democratic, the idea thrown by Jesus into the world was, together
with the invasion of the Germans, the most active cause of the
dissolution of the empire of the Cæsars. On the one hand, the right of
all men to participate in the kingdom of God was proclaimed. On the
other, religion was henceforth separated in principle from the state.
The rights of conscience, withdrawn from political law, resulted in
the constitution of a new power--the "spiritual power." This power has
more than once belied its origin. For ages the bishops have been
princes, and the Pope has been a king. The pretended empire of souls
has shown itself at various times as a frightful tyranny, employing
the rack and the stake in order to maintain itself. But the day will
come when the separation will bear its fruits, when the domain of
things spiritual will cease to be called a "power," that it may be
called a "liberty." Sprung from the conscience of a man of the people,
formed in the presence of the people, beloved and admired first by the
people, Christianity was impressed with an original character which
will never be effaced. It was the first triumph of revolution, the
victory of the popular idea, the advent of the simple in heart, the
inauguration of the beautiful as understood by the people. Jesus thus,
in the aristocratic societies of antiquity, opened the breach through
which all will pass.
The civil power, in fact, although innocent of the death of Jesus (it
only countersigned the sentence, and even in spite of itself), ought
to bear a great share of the responsibility. In presiding at the scene
of Calvary, the state gave itself a serious blow. A legend full of
all kinds of disrespect prevailed, and became universally known--a
legend in which the constituted authorities played a hateful part, in
which it was the accused that was right, and in which the judges and
the guards were leagued against the truth. Seditious in the highest
degree, the history of the Passion, spread by a thousand popular
images, displayed the Roman eagles as sanctioning the most iniquitous
of executions, soldiers executing it, and a prefect commanding it.
What a blow for all established powers! They have never entirely
recovered from it. How can they assume infallibility in respect to
poor men, when they have on their conscience the great mistake of
Gethsemane?[1]
[Footnote 1: This popular sentiment existed in Brittany in the time of
my childhood. The gendarme was there regarded, like the Jew elsewhere,
with a kind of pious aversion, for it was he who arrested Jesus!]