The Prisoner in the Third Cell (3 page)

Shock turned to disbelief as John continued.

“I ask you again, you nest of snakes, who told you to turn away from the wrath that is coming on you?”

The religious leaders stopped. No one could speak to them in this way. After a brief moment, one of the leaders pulled his cloak up about him, turned, and whispered something to those nearest him. They, in turn, signaled to the others to make a sudden retreat.

But John was not finished.

“Your tree! An axe has been laid to
your
tree. The wrath of God is upon you. The axe will cut down your tree and destroy its root. The day is not far when all that you are shall be destroyed under the wrath of God.”

With that the delegation, as one, gathered up their outer robes and hurried back toward their carriages, each devising in his heart some form of vengeance to take against John.

Someone in the crowd began to cheer. Someone else clapped. With that, the whole multitude stood and took up the applause. Everywhere men and women felt shackles falling from their souls. At last, someone had dared to challenge the religious system!

Spontaneously, the multitude moved toward John. It seemed that every soul present who had not been baptized wanted very much to do so now. They had all, as one, glimpsed something deeper of John's message, something they had never understood before.

It was a glorious day. Yet no one seemed to have laid hold of the obvious. Conduct like this would get John killed.

And then there was that other very memorable day.

Chapter 7

The door from the other realm opened, like a window, just over the Jordan River. Out from the very center of the being of God the Father came forth His own sacred Spirit, the Holy Spirit, somewhat as a dove might, fluttering out through the open door and coming to rest on one of the spectators who was listening to John speak.

John's eyes scanned the crowed, his fierce gaze catching every face. What was that? A light of unnatural origin, appearing out of nowhere, like a dove flying out of a window and coming to rest on someone out there in the crowd.

John realized he was seeing what no other eye could see. This was the sign of the Messiah. John fell silent. His only thought was, “Where landed the lighted dove?
Who
is out there?”

Murmuring whispers swept across the crowd. Many followed John's searching gaze.

Spontaneously, John roared,

“Behold the Lamb of God!

“I am nothing. This man is everything. Look no more to me; look to
him.
As for me, I am not even worthy to stoop down and unlatch the sandals that are on the feet of this one.”

The Father seemed to agree. Standing in the door between the two realms, He called out.

“This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.”

And as God was pleased, so John was pleased. Nor did it bother John as he watched the multitudes forsake him and begin to follow Jesus. After all, John knew he had come into the world for this very reason.

What John did not know was that the easiest days of his work were now behind him. The harder were yet to come.

Chapter 8

“Tell me of my cousin,” asked John.

“Presently he is in Galilee. He, like you, has twelve disciples; there are also others, perhaps fifty or sixty more, who are always with him. He travels from town to town preaching.”

The voice was that of Nadab, a follower of John's who had been in Galilee and witnessed Jesus' ministry.

“On occasions he speaks to large multitudes of people, but most of the time he speaks in someone's home.”

“What does he speak about?”

“He mostly tells stories. And many of them have a great deal of humor in them.”

Nadab paused. “Teacher, did you know he drinks? I mean, he drinks
wine
! And the twelve, his twelve, they are not like us. They laugh a lot.

“He receives many invitations to banquets. It seems he always accepts. Some say he eats too much and drinks too much or, at least, that his
disciples
do.”

John's interest was intent, but his demeanor betrayed no evidence of his inward thoughts. Not one person present had the slightest idea what he thought of Nadab's report. It was a trait of John's that dated back to his childhood.

Nadab continued. “The people he keeps company with are mostly tax collectors, whores, and . . . well, people like that.”

One of John's other disciples broke in with an observation. “Teacher, we have fasted almost to the point of starvation. We have prayed until our knees were sore. We follow your example in these things. You fast, you spend your life in prayer, you live a life of great restraint and discipline in all things. Your cousin tells stories, talks of lilies and birds, seeds and sheep, goes to banquets where he eats and drinks. He seems, in general, to be enjoying himself enormously. Some have even called him a drunkard and a glutton. Can you understand why some of us are a little confused?”

After a long pause, it became clear that John would not respond. Finally John took a deep breath and stood. “The people are waiting, and I have something important to say to them.”

John walked out into the midst of the gathered multitude and mounted a large stone. It was late afternoon. A cool breeze from the Sea of Galilee was blowing across the field. The sun was setting, and as it did, it bugled enormous golden rays across the sky.

John looked out across the people and called his heart to remember again his life's task: to bring Israel to full repentance, to level mountains, fill in the valleys, and prepare the way for God's final and greatest work upon the earth.

“Our king,” cried John, “has taken unto himself his brother's wife. Herod has brought down the wrath of God upon himself. Nor will his wife Herodias be spared.”

It would be no later than the next morning when Herod the Tetrarch would hear of John's denunciation. And when Herod heard, he went into a rage. But his rage was nothing compared to that of his new wife, for she vowed the darkest possible vengeance upon John the Baptizer. And in that craving for revenge, she screamed to her husband that John be arrested and thrown into a dungeon. Immediately! Nor did that mark the end of her wicked scheme.

Chapter 9

Protheus looked up to see the cause of the noise at the top of the stairs. He could make out the shadow of a prisoner standing between two Roman guards. Slowly, laboriously, the shackled prisoner made his way down the long, narrow stairwell.

Protheus could not help but think to himself, “I always imagined you to be a giant of a man; yet here, in this place, you seem in every way to be so ordinary. You appear . . . almost
vulnerable.
”

The prisoner now came into full view. Protheus searched John's face, but like so many others, he could find not a single clue in this man's demeanor as to what his thoughts were. Was he afraid? anxious? hostile? Protheus was accustomed to being able to read a prisoner's emotions at this particular moment. But today
this
prisoner provided him nothing.

Protheus turned to one of the soldiers behind him.

“Cell three.”

The soldier opened the iron-gated door; just beyond the grating, the cell dropped off into a pit some twelve feet deep. One of the soldiers was about to tie a rope around one of the bars and let himself down into the pit. Protheus interrupted.

“One moment. I will chain the prisoner.” With that, Protheus turned to the two Roman guards and motioned for them to unshackle the prisoner. He then walked over to the cell door and let himself down into the rat-infested pit.

The place was dark, wet, and everything else that a dungeon was supposed to be. Protheus called up to the guards. “Step back from the prisoner.

“John, let yourself down here by that rope.” John slipped the rope between his hands and lowered himself into the infernal pit.

“These chains fastened to the wall—I must clamp them to your feet and hands. The chains are long enough to allow you some movement. They are ordered from Herod. I am sorry to do this. You will remain in this prison until he decides what to do with you.”

For several moments Protheus labored at the task of bolting the iron manacles around John's wrists and ankles. When finished, he stepped back.

“Three of your disciples have asked to see you. They will be allowed to come next week. I understand they are bringing you some food.”

Protheus grabbed the rope and was about to pull himself up. He paused, turned, and looked at John full on. “I have heard you speak in the wilderness. I regret . . .”

“It is all right,” replied John. “The guilt is not yours.”

With that Protheus pulled himself up to the floor above, closed the cell door, and addressed all the soldiers on duty.

“Listen to me. Within whatever bounds that damnable cell affords, you make this man comfortable; supply him with food and water and whatever else he needs. Meet his needs to the limits of the restrictions Herod has placed upon him. One more thing. I have clearly posted John's name on the wall beside his cell door. I want every man in this room to remember who it is in that pit.”

A voice called out from the first cell. “What did you say? Have they brought John the Baptist to this place?”

Protheus sighed. He and every other man in the room knew what was coming next.

Chapter 10

“Herod did it, didn't he? That damnable monster.

“John, is that you? Do you remember me? I was with you when you were but a child. Oh, I was a man of greatness then. Look at me now!

“Herod took my home; he took my money. Without a trial, without even a hearing! Then he threw me in this hellhole. Now Herod is the one who is rich! Rich on
my
wealth, and I am but a wretch. I swear a curse upon you, Herod . . . you monster . . . wicked man.

“I served him twenty years. Faithfully. No man has ever lived who has been so unjustly treated as I. It is unfair what he did, I tell you. Now look what that heinous man has done; the ogre has gone out and brought a prophet of God to this cursed place.

“I tell you, every problem, every pain, every sorrow in Judea finds its origin in Herod. There is no justice on this earth, no mercy . . . no pity. It is all his fault. All of it.

“John, can you hear me? Mark my word, you will rot here like the rest of us. Out there in your desert, you said one thing that is true. There is no end to the wickedness of the human heart. And Herod is the worst of all. I would be a happy, prosperous man today if it were not for that cold-blooded Herod, and the others . . . the others . . .
those
wicked men who conspired against me with him to take everything I had.”

“Parnach, control your tongue,” shouted one of the guards.

There was a pause. The prisoner in the first cell grew quiet. Unfortunately, though, his shouts had awakened the prisoner in the cell next to him.

Chapter 11

A thin, bony man moved up to the door of his cell and looked wildly into the eyes of the captain of the guards.

“John? Here? Are you telling me John is here in the prison of Machaerus? Are you telling me, Protheus, that he has been thrown into cell
three
, of all places?”

“Yes, Hannel, Herod has arrested John and had him brought here.”

“Has God no pity? Has God no feelings?” asked Hannel in a cold, thin voice.

“Does devotion mean nothing to Him?
I
once trusted in God, just as John does. Are you really here, John? Do you remember me? I lived a devout and holy life before God. You remember, don't you, John? Well, look at what it has brought me. And you, see what devotion to God has brought
you
? Is this to be the end for men who have loved God and obeyed Him? What kind of a God is it that will allow such things as we now suffer? God, You have thrown one of Your very own servants into a slimy hole!”

Hannel thrust one arm through the bars of his cell, clenched his fist, raised his face, and spat curses at God. He then ended his ravings with one last pronouncement. “Never again will I serve a God who treats men this way. When I needed Him, where was He? John, where is
your
God when you need Him the most?”

Not a single sound rose from the third cell. Whatever John might be thinking, he was keeping his own counsel. Protheus, on the other hand, could not help but wonder: “The prisoner in the first cell blames everything on men. The prisoner in the second cell blames everything on God. I wonder whom the prisoner in the third cell will blame. Man? God?

“Or perhaps his cousin?”

Chapter 12

The scene is a village in Galilee called Nain. It is early evening. The streets of the town are packed with people waiting to bring their sick to Jesus.

Some of the infirm are blind, some crippled; one is deaf; another, frothing at the mouth, is held in restraint by his family. An anxious mother holds her small, fevered baby in her arms. Another mother cradles a crippled child in her lap. All manner of people are there, wracked by every disease known to man. All have one thing in common. They are seeking Jesus, hoping to receive healing or liberation at his hands.

The focal point of this crowd is a house located on one of the smaller streets of the village. In every direction the streets leading to this house are jammed with people. Walk through the courtyard and you will see that it, too, is filled.

There is pathos and anxiety everywhere. Perhaps the thing that makes the waiting ones most anxious is to hear a cry of joy coming from within the house and then, a moment later, watch someone depart, praising God for healing.

At this moment, three roughly dressed, leather-skinned men appear at the courtyard gate. One of the disciples of Jesus recognizes these men. He rushes into the house. Just as he is about to tell his master the news of the arrival of these men, a cripple rises on his feet, raises his hands to heaven, and cries out to God in praise for being cured.