The Wolf and the Lamb Read Free

asked that of Caiaphas. “Why are you so concerned with this particular rabbi and not any of the half a hundred like him?”
    “I hardly think ‘half a hundred’ describes their number and I am concerned about them, Rabban, but this Yeshua seems to touch people in ways that differ significantly from the others. Oddly, he seems to know the Law and the Prophets and yet presents them in ways that are well beyond the self-serving ramblings of his contemporaries. He is, shall I say, seductive. It is almost as if…”
    The High Priest had not finished the sentence. Gamaliel had waited and then turned away. He did not care to hear the ending. He could guess what it would be. He’d heard it all before—many times. His own examination of the man had convinced him that with some training and a measure of discipline, this Galilean might make a passable scholar. Otherwise, he thought his teaching radical and borderline heretical. Interesting, in an offbeat near-Persian sense, but with all that, he could not see Yeshua as a threat to anyone, much less to the Nation. He deemed the idea absurd.
    He left the High Priest with his rabbinic fixation and made his way homeward. The streets of Jerusalem were becoming congested with early arrivals for the Passover. The influx of men and women from all over the Empire occurred every High Holy day, but Passover always produced the largest crowds. Judging by the numbers already camped on the hills surrounding the city, this particular Passover seemed not only to be attracting many more celebrants than usual, but they were arriving earlier as well. He could not think of any reason why that should be, nor could he have quantified it. But he had the clear impression that the press of humanity was greater than the previous years and had a different feel to it. The air seemed to possess a tension which he could not explain. It reminded him of the malaise he often felt before a violent storm, before the lightning cracked open the sky and caused his heart to skip a beat.
    He’d pointed out to the High Priest that the Prefect had traveled down from Caesarea early. Were they missing something? In his near single-minded attention to his studies and students and Caiaphas’ equally absorbing obsession with vagabond rabbis, had they blocked out the possibility that something momentous, which they should have known or heard about, was about to occur? The High Priest had offered no enlightenment nor had Gamaliel any thoughts on the matter, although it crossed his mind that the Isaiah scroll resting on his desk might be a place to start. He would look into it right after the Passover or perhaps he would task his students to glean that particular field.
    So occupied had his mind been with musings about pending catastrophes and messianic claims, he nearly missed spotting the young man loitering by his doorway. Gamaliel had an instinct for people. He paused to inspect this nondescript individual, who was shifting from one foot to the other, slouched in the shadows provided by the door’s stone archway, seemingly impatient on the one hand and anxious on the other. Outward appearances, Gamaliel knew, could be deceiving. This young man, for example, in spite of his shabby clothing, would be someone’s servant. A servant sent to him to solicit a ruling, a visit, or a loan of a manuscript? He couldn’t be sure. The boy stared at him expectantly. His eyes lit up and he opened and shut his mouth. It seemed that if he didn’t soon speak, the words would come vomiting out of his mouth. Gamaliel took a few steps forward and waited for the greeting and the reason the boy waited for him.
    “Excellency, do I address the Rabban of the Sanhedrin?”
    “You do, and I am not anyone’s ‘Excellency,’ boy.”
    “Sorry. Umm, that is greetings, sir, and…”
    “Yes, yes, speak up. What is it you wish from me?”
    “Not me, sir, my Master bids you to attend on him.”
    So, definitely a member of someone’s household