improbable journey to take in those days, but remember that nothing is impossible for God.” The vicar gave Ned a warm smile. “Never be afraid to ask questions, my son.”
“C’mon, Ned,” Dad hailed from the gateway. “We mustn’t bother the kind vicar any longer. So nice to have met you, Father Walters. We look forward to seeing you tomorrow!”
Father Walters walked back into the church.
Ned paused, still examining the stone. He had more questions yet. He knew from school that the Romans did not invade Britain until well after Jesus’s death. If Jesus had traveled to Britain any time during his life, he would have encountered primitive Celts and pagan druids.
Back then, no one would have made such a journey—all the way from the Holy Land to Britain, and back again—just for a holiday. What might have drawn young Jesus so far from his home, to travel among people who would have been so strange to him? And what is going on with this cross? If it was made in the tenth century as the vicar said, why is there a plaque marking it as a headstone for a priest who died in 1881?
Ned turned to rejoin his parents. Yes, Dad is right. The vicar’s story really is quite insensible.
But that boy in the cross puzzled him. He contemplated the carving again. The boy has his arms spread, just like Jesus on the Cross, but he does not seem to be suffering. He wants something. He yearns for it. What can it be? Ned thought about how he and his friends at school often conspired together. That’s it! The carving reminded him of how they liked to share secrets. What secret is this carved Jesus trying to tell me? I can ask the vicar to tell me more tomorrow.
Chapter 1
What to Do About Jesus?
Jerusalem, A.D. 8, during the reign of Augustus, first emperor of Rome
Caiaphas
C aiaphas strode across the court of priests in the highest level of the temple, forbidden to all but clerics. The courtyard of priests was where they ritually slaughtered, washed, and cooked the lambs and other sacrificial offerings on the Sabbaths and holy days. Among the structures rising above was the House of God that housed the Holy of Holies, reserved to the high priest himself; and the less sacred but still awe-inspiring Hekal , the worship hall for all the clerics.
Caiaphas descended a broad stairway to the classrooms. Laymen were only permitted to gaze upon the temple structures above when they came to hand up their sacrificial offerings, but the classrooms were open to all the Israelite men.
Like the other Sadducee priests, Caiaphas wore a simple ephod as an apron over his white cloak, the hem of which was bordered with a blue fringe. For the task at hand, this would be a sufficient display of his authority. No need to call undue attention to himself. His mission did not require him to display his role as one of the Sanhedrin, the governors of the temple.
Annas, the high priest and Caiaphas’s father-in-law, had tasked him with investigating another false prophet. The people’s hunger for deliverance from their Roman overlords was creating an environment in which such charlatans flourished, and lately they seemed to be popping up more than ever. Such thinking could be dangerous. Romans were ready to pounce at any hint of insurrection.
Usually, Annas sent a junior priest to chase a blasphemer away, but this time he had chosen to send Caiaphas. This would make sense if someone were spewing especially dangerous teachings, but how dangerous could this one be? This had to be some kind of a bad joke . This was merely a boy of twelve.
Still, Caiaphas would deal with the situation. A few strokes of the whip would correct the boy’s impudence before he could do any real damage.
Caiaphas turned into the room used for teaching, stood in the back, and listened. He was soon amazed. Learned doctors, men who should know better, were listening with rapt attention.
The boy was not much to look at, a little tall and thin for his age, but not malnourished. He
“C’mon, Ned,” Dad hailed from the gateway. “We mustn’t bother the kind vicar any longer. So nice to have met you, Father Walters. We look forward to seeing you tomorrow!”
Father Walters walked back into the church.
Ned paused, still examining the stone. He had more questions yet. He knew from school that the Romans did not invade Britain until well after Jesus’s death. If Jesus had traveled to Britain any time during his life, he would have encountered primitive Celts and pagan druids.
Back then, no one would have made such a journey—all the way from the Holy Land to Britain, and back again—just for a holiday. What might have drawn young Jesus so far from his home, to travel among people who would have been so strange to him? And what is going on with this cross? If it was made in the tenth century as the vicar said, why is there a plaque marking it as a headstone for a priest who died in 1881?
Ned turned to rejoin his parents. Yes, Dad is right. The vicar’s story really is quite insensible.
But that boy in the cross puzzled him. He contemplated the carving again. The boy has his arms spread, just like Jesus on the Cross, but he does not seem to be suffering. He wants something. He yearns for it. What can it be? Ned thought about how he and his friends at school often conspired together. That’s it! The carving reminded him of how they liked to share secrets. What secret is this carved Jesus trying to tell me? I can ask the vicar to tell me more tomorrow.
Chapter 1
What to Do About Jesus?
Jerusalem, A.D. 8, during the reign of Augustus, first emperor of Rome
Caiaphas
C aiaphas strode across the court of priests in the highest level of the temple, forbidden to all but clerics. The courtyard of priests was where they ritually slaughtered, washed, and cooked the lambs and other sacrificial offerings on the Sabbaths and holy days. Among the structures rising above was the House of God that housed the Holy of Holies, reserved to the high priest himself; and the less sacred but still awe-inspiring Hekal , the worship hall for all the clerics.
Caiaphas descended a broad stairway to the classrooms. Laymen were only permitted to gaze upon the temple structures above when they came to hand up their sacrificial offerings, but the classrooms were open to all the Israelite men.
Like the other Sadducee priests, Caiaphas wore a simple ephod as an apron over his white cloak, the hem of which was bordered with a blue fringe. For the task at hand, this would be a sufficient display of his authority. No need to call undue attention to himself. His mission did not require him to display his role as one of the Sanhedrin, the governors of the temple.
Annas, the high priest and Caiaphas’s father-in-law, had tasked him with investigating another false prophet. The people’s hunger for deliverance from their Roman overlords was creating an environment in which such charlatans flourished, and lately they seemed to be popping up more than ever. Such thinking could be dangerous. Romans were ready to pounce at any hint of insurrection.
Usually, Annas sent a junior priest to chase a blasphemer away, but this time he had chosen to send Caiaphas. This would make sense if someone were spewing especially dangerous teachings, but how dangerous could this one be? This had to be some kind of a bad joke . This was merely a boy of twelve.
Still, Caiaphas would deal with the situation. A few strokes of the whip would correct the boy’s impudence before he could do any real damage.
Caiaphas turned into the room used for teaching, stood in the back, and listened. He was soon amazed. Learned doctors, men who should know better, were listening with rapt attention.
The boy was not much to look at, a little tall and thin for his age, but not malnourished. He
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