"Petronius' Worst Week Ever"
Knox, 17 April, 2011 © Scott McAndless
Exodus 12:24-28, Zechariah 9:9-17, Psalm 81:1-10, Luke 19:29-40
This morning’s Knox Players video was a little bit different, as I am sure you noticed. Usually these videos are based on a passage or a story from the Bible. But today’s sketch was based on an historical event that took place about 7 years after the crucifixion of Jesus. And it really did happen (more or less) like that. The Roman Emperor was named Caligula and he did order a man named Petronius to place an image of himself in the temple of the Lord in Jerusalem.
The Jews were outraged at this affront to their religion and they resisted. They didn’t take up arms but they stood in front of Petronius and literally invited him to do this over their dead bodies, baring their necks and inviting him – even begging him – to slaughter them in order to get to the temple. But Petronius was a decent man and he would not slaughter them all so he took the statue away. Now this was an extremely brave thing for him to do because the penalty for failing to do what the Emperor had ordered him to do was death. And when Caligula heard about it, he did indeed order Petronius’ death.
Petronius didn’t die though because Caligula was assassinated soon afterwards and news of Caligula’s death managed to get to Jerusalem before the letter containing the warrant for Petronius’ death. Has anyone ever been so happy about the failures of the postal system as Petronius?
But there is a reason why I bring up this historical story of Petronius here today on this Sunday before Easter. Did you know that there was one early Christian who was such a fan of Petronius that he included him in a gospel that he wrote? This gospel is known as the Gospel of Peter (though no one today thinks that it was actually written by Peter). It was very popular in the early church. But ultimately the Gospel was not put in the Bible and it eventually disappeared. The book was completely lost until about a hundred years ago when a large fragment was dug up in the Egyptian desert.
Now all the gospels mention Roman soldiers being present during the final week of Jesus’ life. But only this long-lost Gospel of Peter gives the name of one of them: a centurion named Petronius. It says that he was the officer assigned by Pilate to guard Jesus’ tomb. And that makes me wonder: did the writer of this Gospel mean to say that this Petronius was the same roman official who, seven years later, would put his life on the line for the sake of the Jewish temple? I expect that he did. After all, Petronius must have been pretty famous after what he did. The earliest readers of this gospel must have made the association.
Now, the Gospel of Peter was written many years after the events and it was not written by someone who was there. As I say, nobody thinks it was written by Peter. So I don’t suppose that the author actually knew the real names of the soldiers who were there. But I think that what he was doing as he wrote was holding out an intriguing possibility – the mere idea that maybe the Roman hero who saved the nation in 40 ad might have done it because of what he had learned from observing somebody else who was willing to put his life on the line for the sake of the Jewish nation some seven or so years earlier.
That is the intriguing possibility that I mean to explore today and in the coming week. Let’s work under the assumption – whether realistic or not – that Petronius was there.
Men of the third legion, second cohort, first century, Ave Caesar! I am your new commanding officer. My name is Gaius Petronius, but you may call me Sir! Do I hear a “yes, Sir!”? I can’t hear you... At ease, men.
Now I know that most of you are new to the Province of Judea. Some of you just got off the boat from fair Italia. So I want to tell you a few things about this hell hole that you’ve landed yourselves in. Judea is, without a doubt, the worst place that you will serve during your entire military careers. You will hate every day of service in this province. You will beg me to transfer you someplace else – anyplace else.
What is wrong with Judea? It is not the countryside. It can be beautiful, though it is very dry and water rations will be tight. No, it is not the land, it is the people. They hate you. They think that you don’t belong here. But you are soldiers of Rome and Rome goes wherever it bloody wants.
The Judeans are also crazy, absolutely nuts! They don’t have gods like the civilized people of the world do. In fact, you won’t find a single statue to a single god in the entire province – not even to the emperor! Can you imagine that? All we do for these ungrateful barbarians and they won’t even bow down and worship the emperor! No, they worship this God that you can’t even see. I know, it’s hard to believe in this day and age, but there you have it.
So day in and day out, these Judeans will stare sullenly at you, will only do what you tell them to do when you threaten them and do whatever they can get away with to make your lives miserable. That’s most of the time. But not this week. This week is special. This is the beginning of what they call Passover week in Jerusalem – one of the interminable festivals that these people celebrate. I don’t know too much about it but apparently they say that a long time ago this invisible God of theirs saved them from being slaves in another country – where was it, Optio? That’s right, it was Egypt.
Their God said that they didn’t have to be slaves in Egypt during a Passover week a long time ago – set them free, I guess. So you know what happens every Passover week now? Every bloody Judean in the whole bloody country comes to Jerusalem for the whole week. There are people everywhere! And they spend the whole week talking about how they shouldn’t be slaves to Rome either.
And when people get talking like that, it doesn’t take much for some fool to come along and push them over the edge – to get them talking about how this annoying God of theirs wants them to chase us Romans right out of “their” land. In short, this city becomes a tinder box during this week. All it takes is a spark – some idiot coming along preaching revolution – and you will have a very bad situation on your hands.
Now, our loyal governor, Pontius Pilate, (Ave Caesar) knows all of this very well. And so for several years now he has ordered extra troops to occupy the city during this week. This year, you are those troops! Your job, first and foremost, is to be disciplined, orderly and absolutely menacing. You are to make these people – who only seem to understand brute force – see that they will be in a world of hurt if they so much as breath wrong in your presence. You are Rome’s best. Your armour will shine. You will move in perfect step. You will respond with immediate brutality to the slightest provocation. You will make these people fear you and even admire you in spite of themselves.
Now, soldiers of the third legion, second cohort, first century, attention! You will proceed to march in an orderly fashion through the West Gate of the city to occupy it. Right turn. By the right quick march! Unus, duae, tres, quattuor.
S o Petronius is leading his soldiers into the West Gate of Jerusalem. He knows, of course, that the Jews don’t much like him or his troops but he also knows how impressive they look when they are on the march. He is expecting to attract a lot of attention – that the people will come out, if not to cheer exactly, at least to gawk. After all, who can resist a parade?
But Petronius finds that the streets of Jerusalem are surprisingly quiet for a city in the middle of a festival. Petronius turns to his Optio – his second in command. “Where are all the people?” Petronius asks. The Optio doesn’t say anything but just raises his eyes to look out across the city to the far side of the temple mount where you can just see the road that leads down from the Mount of Olives to the east gate. Petronius follows his gaze and his eyes widen in surprise. The hillside is alive with people. And they are waving palm branches and cloaks and obviously making a great deal of noise.
“What the bloody Hades is that all about,” Petronius cannot stop himself from saying. Petronius’ eyesight is pretty good and he can just make out what is at the centre of the mob. It appears to be a man – just one man – riding on a colt. That’s it! Imagine that. How could people possibly find one guy on a colt more exciting than an entire century of men in shining helmets with the brooms on them and everything. But clearly they do.
Maybe it is the sheer contrast between the two processions. On the one hand you have the pomp and circumstance of well trained soldiers and the unmistakable menace of the sharp spears and swords. On the other you have a simply dressed man on a beast that no one would ever use in a military attack. The two processions are so different that the man on the colt shows up the military procession for what it is – a display of nothing but the power of violence and greed that has no beauty or hope to it.
That is part of it, but, of course, Petronius doesn’t know that there is also an ancient prophecy, well known among the Jews, that there will be a new kind of king someday who will come to his people riding on a colt and who will establish a kingdom of peace and of freedom where all the people can live in prosperity instead of all the wealth going to a few. That is the real contrast, of course: the kingdom of God against the Empire of Caesar.
Petronius may not understand all of the symbolism in what he sees, but he understands enough to know that he can’t allow this kind of thing to go on much longer. But he is also wise enough to know that it is not the time for a direct confrontation that would only enflame the passions that he has already seen at work in the mob. So he sends a runner to the local authorities – the High Priest and his council of Pharisees and Saducees. They are tedious people, but at least they have learned to respect the Romans and what they can do with a legion of armed men. They will do what he asks, they will find some way to get the mob to calm down before something really bad happens.
That having been taken care of, Petronius leads his men on until they deploy at the very foot of the temple mount. They won’t enter the actual temple grounds. That is part of the deal that has been worked out between the governor and the local council. But they will certainly be watching. Their orders are clear. If anyone causes a disturbance in the temple during the Passover festival they will find that person, they will deal with him swiftly and brutally as only the Romans can.
After a while some Pharisees come by to report that they have confronted the man on the colt as they were ordered. They say that his name is Jesus, a Galilean in town for the festival like so many others. They told this Jesus the situation – that he had to tell his followers to be quiet or else there would be trouble. But they didn’t know what to say to his reply. “I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.”
“Ah,” thinks Petronius. This one is not just your run-of-the-mill preacher. He’s a deep thinker, he is. We’ll have to keep an eye on this Jesus from Galilee.