It was just about this time that Judas Iscariot took his first decisive
step towards betrayal: he paid a secret visit to the high priest Annas.
He was received very sternly, but this did not disconcert him and he
demanded a prolonged private interview. Left alone with the stern
ascetic old man who eyed him contemptuously from under his bushy
eyebrows, he told him that he, Judas, was a pious man who had become a
disciple of Jesus of Nazareth with the sole aim of exposing the
deceiver and of betraying him into the hands of the law.
“And who is He, this Nazarene?” slightingly inquired Annas, as if he
had heard the name of Jesus for the first time.
Judas for his part pretended to take this strange ignorance of the high
priest at its face value and reported to him at length concerning the
sermons of Jesus, His wonders, His hatred of the Pharisees and the
Temple, the violations of the Law by Him, and His desire to snatch the
power from the hands of the ecclesiastics and to establish His own
kingdom. And so skillfully did he mingle truth with falsehood that
Annas glanced at him more attentively, while he indolently observed:
“Are there so few deceivers and madmen in Judea?”
“No. But He is a dangerous man,” hotly replied Judas. “He violates the
Law. And it is better for one man to perish than for the whole people.”
Annas nodded approvingly.
“But He has, methinks, many disciples.”
“Yes, many.”
“And they probably love Him devotedly?”
“They say that they love Him; that they love Him more than themselves.”
“But if we should want to seize Him, would they not take His part? Will
there be no uprising?”
Judas laughed long and bitterly.
“They? They are cowardly curs who run as soon as a man stoops to pick
up a stone. They!”
“Are they so bad?” coldly inquired Annas.
“And do the bad flee from the good? Do not rather! the good flee before
the bad? Ha! They are good and therefore they will run. They are good
and therefore they will hide themselves. They are good and therefore
they will only appear when Jesus is ready for burial. And they will
bury Him themselves, do thou but put Him to death.”
“But do they not love Him? Thou saidst so.”
“Their Teacher they love always, but more in death than living. As long
as the Teacher lives He is apt to examine the pupils, and woe then unto
the latter. But when the Teacher is dead, they become teachers in their
turn, and woe then unto others! Ha!”
Annas looked searchingly at the traitor, and his shriveled lips
wrinkled slightly: it was a sign that Annas was smiling.
“They have injured thee. I see it.”
“Can anything remain a secret to thy insight, O wise Annas? Thou hast
penetrated the very heart of Judas. Yes, they injured poor Judas. They
said that I had stolen three pieces of silver, as if Judas were not the
most honest man in Israel.”
And for a long time they spoke of Jesus, of His disciples, and of His
pernicious influence on the people of Israel. But the cautious and
cunning high priest Annas did not give his final answer on this
occasion. He had been watching Jesus for a long time and had long since
sealed the fate of the prophet of Galilee in the secret councils of his
relatives and friends, the chiefs and the Sadducees. But he distrusted
Judas who had been reported to him as an evil and double-dealing man.
He did not attach much faith to his frivolous remarks on the cowardice
of the disciples and the people. Annas had entire confidence in his own
might, but he feared bloodshed, he feared to stir up a tumultuous
uprising into which the stiff-necked and volatile people of Jerusalem
could be so easily harangued; he feared finally the sternly repressive
interference of Roman authorities. Fanned by resistance, fructified by
the crimson blood of the people which endows with life all whereon it
falls, the heresy might spread all the more rapidly and engulf Annas
himself, his rule and his friends. And when the Iscariot sought
admission for the second time, Annas was perturbed and refused to
receive him. But a third and a fourth time the Iscariot called,
insistent as the wind that knocks day and night against the closed door
and breathes through the fissures.
“I see that wise Annas has some apprehensions,” said Judas when finally
admitted to the High Priest.
“I am strong enough to fear nothing,” haughtily replied Annas, and the
Iscariot made a servile obeisance. “What wouldst thou?”
“I want to betray unto you the Nazarene.”
“We do not want Him.”
Judas bowed low and lingered humbly, fixing his eye upon the high
priest.
“Go.”
“But I must come again. Is it not so, venerable Annas?”
“Thou wilt not be admitted. Go.”
But again and again Judas of Kerioth knocked at the high priest’s
portal and was once more admitted into the presence of the aged Annas.
Shriveled and angry, oppressed with thought, he regarded the betrayer
in silence and seemed to be counting the hairs on his illshaped head.
Judas also was silent, as if, for his part, counting the hairs in the
silvery thin beard of the high priest.
“Well, thou art here again?” haughtily ejaculated the irritated high
priest, as though spuing the words on his visitor’s head.
“I want to betray unto you the Nazarene.”
They both lapsed into silence, scanning intently one another’s
features, the Iscariot gazing calmly, but a feeling of subdued
malevolence, dry and cold like the morning frost in the winter time,
was beginning to gnaw at the heart of Annas.
“And what askest thou for thy Jesus?”
“And what will ye give?”
With a feeling of quiet elation Annas insultingly retorted:
“You are a band of rascals, all of you. Thirty pieces of silver, that
is all we will give for Him.”
And his heart was filled with delighted gratification as he observed
how Judas’ whole body was set agog by this announcement. The Iscariot
turned and scurried about, agile and swift, as if he had not two but a
dozen legs.
“For Jesus? Thirty pieces of silver?” cried Judas in a tone of wild
amazement that rejoiced the heart of Annas. “For Jesus of Nazareth? You
would buy Jesus for thirty pieces of silver? And you think that Jesus
can be sold unto you for thirty pieces of silver?”
Judas swiftly turned to the wall and laughed into its smooth and whited
face, waving wildly arms.
“Hearest thou? Thirty pieces of silver! For Jesus!”
With quiet enjoyment Annas indifferently replied: “If thou wilt not
have it, go. We shall find some man who will sell more cheaply.”
And like sellers of old raiment who shout and swear and scold, fighting
over the price of some worthless garment, they commenced their
monstrous and frenzied haggling.
Thrilled with a strange ecstasy Judas ran about twisting his limbs and
shouting, and enumerating on the fingers of his hand the merits of Him
whom he was betraying.
“And that He is good and heals the sick, is that nothing? Is that worth
nothing in your estimation? Hey? No? Tell me like an honest man?”
“If thou,” interposed the high priest whose cold disfavor was rapidly
fanned into violent wrath by the taunting words of Judas,—but the later
interrupted him unabashed.
“And that He is youthful and beautiful like the narcissus of Sharon,
like the lily of the valley? Hey? Is that nothing? Perhaps you will say
that He is aged and worthless?”
“If thou,” still strove to cry Annas, but his senile voice was drowned
in the storm of Judas’ protests.
“Thirty pieces of silver! That makes hardly an obolus for a drop of
blood. Less than half an obolus for a tear. Quarter an obolus for a
groan. And the cries of pain! and convulsions! What is the stopping of
His heart? And the closing of His eyes? Is that all for naught?”
screamed the Iscariot towering over the high priest, encircling him
with the frenzied whirlwind of his gestures and words.
“For all! For all!” replied the breathless high priest.
“And how much will you earn on the deal? Hey? Would you rob poor Judas?
Tear the piece of bread out of his children’s mouths? I shall go out
into the market place and shout: ‘Annas has robbed poor Judas. Help!’”
Wearied and dizzy, Annas in futile frenzy stamped the floor with his
soft slipper and waved him away: “Begone! Begone!”
But Judas suddenly made a humble obeisance and spread out his arms:
“And if so, why art thou angry with poor Judas who is seeking the good
of his children? Thou too hast children, fine, handsome young men.”
“We shall get another.... We shall get another.... Begone!”
“And did I say that I would not give in? Do I not believe thee that
another may come and give up Jesus unto you for fifteen oboli? For two
oboli? For one obolus?”
Then with another low obeisance, and with ingratiating words, Judas
submissively agreed to accept the money offered him. With a trembling
and wrinkled hand Annas, now silent and flushed with excitement, gave
him the money. He sat with averted face and in silence, biting his lips
and waited until Judas had tested every silver coin between his teeth.
Now and then Annas looked around and then, as quickly turned his glance
to the ceiling and again bit his lips.
“There are so many false coins about now,” calmly explained Judas.
“This is money offered up by pious people for the Temple,” remarked
Annas looking around hastily and still more quickly turning to Judas
the back of his bald head which was now crimson with anger.
“But can pious people distinguish false coins from the genuine? Only
rogues can do this.”
Judas did not take home the money received from the high priest, but
going beyond the city he buried it beneath a stone. And he returned
with slow, heavy and cautious steps, like a wounded animal creeping to
its lair after a cruel and mortal combat. But Judas had no lair of his
own to which he might creep, though there was a house and in that house
he saw Jesus. Tired, emaciated, worn out with his incessant war against
the Pharisees who daily surrounded Him in the Temple like a wall of
white, shining, learned foreheads, He was seated, leaning against the
wall and was apparently fast asleep. Through the open window entered
the restless echoes of the city, behind the wall was heard the knocking
of Peter who was making a new table for the common meal and sang a
Galilean ditty as he worked. He heard nothing and slept soundly and
firmly, and this was He who had been bought for thirty pieces of
silver.
Advancing noiselessly, Judas with the gentle care of a mother fearing
to awaken her ailing babe, with the amazement of a dumb brute that has
crept from its lair and lingers in fascination before some pretty white
flower, Judas touched His soft hair and precipitately withdrew his
hand. He touched it again and as noiselessly crept out.
“Lord!” he exclaimed. “Lord!”
And going to a deserted spot he wept there a long time, writhing,
twisting his limbs, scratching his breast with his nails and biting his
shoulders. Suddenly he ceased to weep, to moan and to gnash his teeth
and lapsed into deep thought, turning his moist face to one side in the
attitude of listening. And thus he stood for a long time, immobile,
determined and a stranger to all like his very fate.
With a calm love and tender solicitude Judas surrounded the doomed
Jesus during these last days of His brief life. Coy and timorous like a
maiden in her first love, strangely intuitive and keen of perception,
he divined the slightest unexpressed wish of Jesus, penetrated into the
hidden depths of His feelings, His fleeting instants of yearning, His
heavy moments of weariness. And no matter where the foot of Jesus
stepped it rested on something soft, no matter where He turned His
glance it met something pleasant. Formerly Judas had held in disfavor
Mary Magdalene and the other women who were near Jesus, playing rude
jokes at their expense and causing them much annoyance. Now he became
their friend, their ludicrous and awkward confederate. With a profound
interest he discussed with them the little intimate and beloved traits
of Jesus, quizzing them insistently for a long time concerning one and
the same thing. With a great show of secrecy he thrust coins into their
hands, and they bought ointments, the precious and fragrant myrrh so
beloved of Jesus, and anointed His feet. Haggling desperately he bought
expensive wine for Jesus and then growled when Peter drank it all with
the indifference of a man to whom only quantity matters. In that rocky
country surrounding Jerusalem and almost bare of trees and flowers, he
managed to obtain fresh spring flowers and green herbs, and offered
them to Jesus through the mediation of these same women. For the first
time in his life he fetched in his arms little children, finding them
somewhere in the neighboring homesteads or in the highways, and
forcedly caressed them to keep them from weeping. And it frequently
happened that there crawled on the knees of Jesus, while he sat in deep
thought, a tiny, curly haired little fellow with a soiled little nose,
and insistently sought His caress. And while the two rejoiced in one
another, Judas sternly walked a short distance off with the air of a
jailer who has admitted a butterfly into the cell of his prisoner and
then with a show of asperity grumbles about the disorder.
In the evenings, when darkness and fear stood guard at the door, the
Iscariot artfully contrived to bring into the conversation Galilee, a
land unknown to him but dear to Jesus, with its peaceful lakes and
green shores. And he worried the clumsy Peter until stifled memories
awoke in his heart and before his eyes and ears appeared vivid pictures
and sounds of the beautiful life of Galilee. Avidly attentive and with
mouth half-opened like a child’s, with the twinkling of anticipated
laughter in His eyes, Jesus listened to Peter’s impetuous, ringing and
merry speech, and at times He so loudly laughed at his conceits that
the disciple had to stop his recital for minutes at a time. But better
even than Peter’s was the speech of John. There was nothing ludicrous,
nothing unexpectedly grotesque in his words, but his descriptions were
so thoughtful, unusual and beautiful that tears appeared in the eyes of
Jesus, and Judas nudged Mary Magdalene, whispering triumphantly into
her ears: “How he speaks! Listen!”
“I am listening.”
“But listen still better. You women never listen well.”
And when they all dispersed to seek their bedsides, Jesus kissed John
with a tender gratitude and cordially patted the shoulder of Peter.
Without envy, with a contemptuous indulgence, Judas witnessed these
caresses. What signified all these tales, these kisses, these sighs,
compared with that knowledge which he had, he, Judas of Kerioth,
redhaired, repulsive Judas, born amid the rocks.