This is a continuation of Part 1 - see part one here

On the other side of the portal they all felt the same thing, a surge passed through their bodies and a sudden light-headedness that led to a great sense of dislocation before they found themselves in the unfamiliar darkness of a distant evening.

All looked around bemused and confused, not at all sure where or even when they were.

‘Right are we all here?’ the same young woman said. ‘It is Thursday evening and, even as we speak, Christ is having supper with his disciples. We have set up somewhat away from the city and we are in a place that people rarely even pass through so the chances of discovery are next to zero. We took the liberty of sending some of our staff ahead. They have set up camp for the night for us. You are free to speak openly here as we shouldn’t be disturbed. Try and get a good night’s sleep for tomorrow we head to Jerusalem and will present ourselves before Pontius Pilate as he judges Christ and Barabbas.’

‘You will be shown to your tents, but be warned it’s a bit rough and ready and smelly, there’s no such thing as five stars here and you wouldn’t want anything that’s not authentic. Just before you go, we will give you some papers with some useful phrases and pronunciation guides on them so you can follow what happens. Be warned, we will collect them and burn them in the morning and if even one is missing we will not head into Jerusalem. We cannot risk contaminating the timeline.’

Each one of them shuffled off in the direction they were led and took a piece of paper with words printed on them; a remarkable piece of modernity in such an isolated backwater. Each paper comprised of three columns – the first in English, the second in Hebrew and the third in Latin, in the latter two cases in brackets was contained the rough equivalent of how to pronounce each word using the anglicised alphabet and sounds.

Some paid more attention than others, some tried to go to sleep while others were too excited. It’s highly likely that few got much sleep in this alien yet somehow familiar place that marked the centre of history. Some tried to visualise what Christ was doing. Was he still with his disciples in Gethsemane? Had Judas kissed him yet? Those who knew their history or Bible a bit better pondered as to whether he was being presented to Annas, the former high priest, Caiaphas, the current high priest and the Sanhedrin yet? Was the stage set for Pontius Pilate?

Morning dawned and it was a bright beautiful morning that other than the obvious sense of impending history was nothing extraordinary. A gentle breeze was blowing across the arid landscape that was dotted with scrub and the occasional cluster of trees. Birds soared and wheeled in the sky chirping out their morning songs for all to hear and celebrate.

Breakfast was simple and hearty, comprising mainly of flatbreads, fruit and nuts. Clean water was provided and they all ate and drank assuming that their hosts had taken the necessary measures to protect them against the risk of illness or disease. Thus far the programme had seemed to counter every possible problem and so they assumed this would be no different.

‘We will now collect the language papers please,’ the same girl announced when she called everybody to attention. ‘Remember my warning. Don’t try to hide them or keep them as souvenirs. If you really want one we have plenty back home.’

Each paper of course had been numbered, all two hundred of them and they were meticulously checked off a list with a pencil mark and then when they were all collected together everything, including the pencil, was put on a fire and watched until utterly consumed by the flames.

‘Now we are ready. Take some water in some skins and some food. Your cloaks have deep pockets on the inside. It’s not ideal, but it’s only for a few hours. Remember that from the moment we leave the camp we are to say nothing to anybody. If in the presence of a stranger don’t even think about whispering to each other. Tensions are high in Jerusalem right now and even a whisper could look conspiratorial. There are whole groups of armed men looking for the disciples who have pretty much gone to ground. Be very careful. It will take us about an hour to get there at a brisk pace. When we get about halfway we will break up into smaller groups. A staff member will lead each group of about twenty and we will meet again before Pilate.’

There were some among the crowd who knew that their very gait might give them away. Nobody knew how differently people walked in those days and, because of improved diet and health, they were likely to be taller than local people if nothing else. Maybe this was why the competition had been open to so many winners; the sheer force of numbers will disguise their presence and make them look less out of place.

And so they proceeded to Jerusalem and it was not long before they started encountering people. So the decision was made to break the larger group up sooner than planned. Little of the Hebrew was understood but the word Yeshua seemed to come up at least every sentence or two among the people they met. Some voices were fearful and others more matter of fact, like the spreading gossip as though it were fact.

Now in smaller clusters, they entered the city and found that it was bustling and dusty and the stink was overpowering. The smell of animals and unwashed bodies filled the air and more than one of them contemplated what life must have been like without modern wash facilities. The Romans had gone a long way in introducing such things, but it was largely the reserve of the Romans themselves and had not really penetrated into the lives of the regular Judeans.

They milled around with little sense of time, other than the rising sun which was just getting hotter and hotter, almost by the minute, until at some predetermined point the group leaders herded them into a square. Soon among familiar, even if short-lived, acquaintances they drew themselves together, but unlike when they were on the other side of the portal they waited in silent anticipation.

It was about to happen; the pivotal moment in human history.

A rather unremarkable man, slightly overweight, and even a bit effeminate suddenly appeared on a raised area on a colonnade between two pillars. He was dressed all in white with a purple sash that denoted his authority and the fact that he was surrounded by legionaries only added to his sense of being. In himself he was nothing and only the decorations of office made him into something. Even then, he’d have died almost anonymously had he not been a major instigator in one of the most infamous episodes in history.

Pilate.

‘So I bring before you a choice,’ he declared somewhat grandiosely in an alien tongue to the suspiciously quiet crowd. ‘As governor of Judea, I have the right to free one of the prisoners that I will present to you. Yeshua or Barabbas.’

The crowd showed little understanding of what was being said, but their faces lit up with understanding when they heard the two names.

‘So first let us consider Barabbas, a murderer and a thief. A well-known criminal, deserving of death,’ he continued in his strange language. The crowd only knew he was talking about Barabbas because his name was mentioned.

A fierce looking man was brought out with a black beard that ran almost halfway down his neck. He had a black eye and some angry welts on his arms. One of his nostrils looked half blocked by a coagulated lump of dry almost brown blood. He clearly had been subjected to special treatment by the Romans.

He stood there pathetic and broken, expecting no other fate than death.

‘Next I bring before you Yeshua,’ he proclaimed.

Another shambling figure, already half-dead, was dragged before the waiting crowd. His back was so torn and shredded that it was just a mass of reddened flesh with no skin untouched. Both eyes were blackened and his nose puffy and swollen. Lash marks were clearly visible across his chest. Blood from his wounds ran down his torso and to his legs and was dripping on the ground.

Then he lifted his head and looked at the crowd. Unlike Barabbas, his body may have been broken, but his spirit wasn’t. Nobody could look at those eyes for more than a second without an overwhelming sense of fear and condemnation and so as eyes looked away they were drawn to the crown that had been wrought out of thorns each longer than a man’s finger. It had been pressed onto his head and where it had penetrated the skin, blood freely flowed creating a crimson curtain that covered much of his face and caught in his matted beard.

‘Yeshua, has broken the law. He claims to be King and God; a blasphemy to your religion and an insult to Caesar. Your Elders claim that he is a threat to us and our very way of life.’

Pilate hesitated as though remembering something.

‘But he is not violent nor has he committed any crime against Roman law, other than his ridiculous claim against Caesar.’

‘So you can choose who shall live and who shall die. I urge you to choose carefully.’ Pilate looked somewhat shaken almost as though events were overtaking him. The silence was earth shaking and not what he had expected. He thought he’d get a rabble, an angry mob, baying for blood, not this.