What Is the Truth?

By Jeremy De Beer

An epic uplifting tale of spiritual discovery that should be experienced by everyone. The ongoing personal moral dilemma suffered by Marcus Pontius Pilatus (aka Pontius Pilate) is actively explored throughout the course of this thought-provoking novel which ultimately functions as a powerful love story for the Ages.

While it would be best categorized as historical fiction with a strong psychological element to non-Christian readers, this novel should be viewed in more spiritually uplifting terms by practicing Christian readers. Pontius Pilate is meant to represent the archetype of every man who has ever been placed in the truly invidious situation where making a righteous decision will inevitably lead to personal disgrace and ruination.

There is a strong possibility that Pilate was not the ignorant self-serving brute often portrayed by Hollywood. His conduct at the trial of Lord Jesus is highly suggestive that he instead possessed a sharp and perceptive intellect akin to that of the disgraced mythical psychiatrist Dr Hannibal Lecter.

Jeremy Peter de Beer was born and raised in Cape Town. He attended UCT Medical School where he initially obtained an MBChB degree (1985) followed over a decade later (2000) by a research Masters degree in Psychiatry and Mental Health. He is married to his soulmate Henriette. He has a keen interest in Biblical Prophecy and believes that we could well be living in the End Times. He is currently semi-retired and attends the Cornerstone Community Church in Vanderbijlpark (which is 75 km south of Johannesburg).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeremy De Beer
• Release date: Mar 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005432805

Book preview

What is the Truth?

Introductory Comments:

Pontius Pilatus is the archetype of everyman. He represents anyone (and everyone) who has ever been placed in the truly invidious situation where making a righteous decision will inevitably lead to personal disgrace and ruination. The vast majority of humankind would also be found to lack the profound moral courage required to actively overrule his or her innate hardwired sense of self-preservation. Only those who are truly moved by the Spirit would be able to act so contrary to their default sin nature. The fact that Pilate ultimately elected to follow his survival instincts when confronted with sustained and overwhelming pressure does not necessarily make him an evil and amoral man. The fact that he vigorously withstood the machinations of his determined adversaries for so long tends to make him a courageous man who regrettably tripped over the final hurdle just short of the victory tape of righteousness.

There is a strong possibility that Pilate was not the ignorant self-serving brute often portrayed by Hollywood. His conduct at the trial of Lord Jesus is highly suggestive that he instead possessed a sharp and perceptive intellect akin to that of the disgraced mythical psychiatrist Dr Hannibal Lecter. Perhaps he was capable of discerning a great deal more about the true nature of the humble carpenter brought before him for judgement than The Word explicitly relates. Maybe he developed a consuming passion for learning the Truth as testified by our Lord and Master. What if the Prefect was accompanied in his Quest for the Truth by a loyal, trusted and honourable centurion as well as his faithful and noble wife – to search for it wherever it lay and to disregard whatever it might cost him? This seemingly fanciful treatise is entirely compatible with the stance adopted by the Ethiopian Church who have canonized both Pilate and his wife Claudia Procula as Christian converts and martyrs.

The nature of Love:

The initial four sections underscore the Divine love of our Lord and Master for mankind whereas the final three sections highlight the earthly love of the early disciples for their Lord and Master. Throughout the course of the dramatic and life-changing events depicted, the earthly love between Pilate and Claudia Procula remained firm for over five decades until the final heart-breaking but triumphant denouement. Our Lord and Master once stated that there was no greater love than that of a person who was prepared to lay down his life for a friend. At the climax, three of the main protagonists most willingly lay down their lives for each other and, thereby, for their Lord and Master.

Dedication

To Henriette

Dramatis Personae

JESUS OF NAZARETH:

Gentle carpenter, wise Rabbi, Master of the disciples and Son of God.

I am the Way, the Truth and the Life.

PONTIUS PILATE:

Prefect of Judaea.

What is the Truth?

CLAUDIA PROCULA:

Wife of Pilate, granddaughter of Augustus and stepdaughter of Tiberius.

CASSIUS LONGINUS:

Centurion.

MIRIAM:

Jewish maidservant of Claudia Procula.

CAIAPHAS:

High Priest and son-in-law of Annas.

ANNAS:

Former High Priest and father-in-law of Caiaphas.

HEROD ANTIPAS:

Tetrarch of Galilee.

JOSEPH OF ARIMATHAEA:

Counsellor and member of the Sanhedrin.

NICODEMUS:

Counsellor and member of the Sanhedrin.

SIMON OF CYRENE:

Visitor, cross bearer for Jesus and father of Rufus and Alexander.

PETER:

Lead disciple and likely author of Gospel of St. Mark.

JOHN:

Beloved (youngest) disciple and author of Gospel of St. John.

SAUL OF TARSUS:

Persecutor of the early Christian Church who became the mighty Evangelist Paul.

APOLLOS:

Evangelist.

FELIX:

Procurator of Judaea.

FESTUS:

Procurator of Judaea after Felix.

JULIUS:

Centurion.

TIMOTHY:

Leader of Ephesian assembly.

LUKE:

Personal physician and biographer to Paul.

MAURITIUS GALLAS:

Governor of the Mamertine Prison.

Special Artwork by Van Zuijdam

PILATE

CLAUDIA PROCULA

Table of Contents

Foreword

Dedication

Dramatis Personae

Special Artwork by Van Zuijdam

Part I The Trial

1. Troubled Contemplations

2. Dramatis Personae

3. Initial Manoeuvres

4. Haunting Encounter

5. Transferred Responsibility

6. People’s Choice

7. Disturbing News

8. Desperate Plan

9. Judgement Day

Part II The Verdict

10. Justice Denied

11. Ominous Portents

12. Generous Spirits

13. Miraculous Events

Part III The Witnesses

14. Important Commission

15. Life-Changing Message

16. Insurance Policy

17. Earthly Forgiveness

18. Born Again

19. Insincere Motives

20. Collective Guilt

21. Heavenly Prayer

22. The Accuser

23. Post Mortem

24. Mistaken Arrest

25. Cowardly Arrest

26. Miraculous Wine

27. Bounteous Food

28. Treading Water

29. Life Restored

30. I Am

31. The Rock

32. The Traitor

33. Holy Remembrance

Part IV The Resurrection

34. Risen Master

35. Courageous Woman

36. Future Devastation

37. Unexpected Meeting

Part V The Advocate

38. The Commission

39. Clandestine Representative

40. Holy Fire

41. The Firebrand

42. Restraining Orders

43. Failed Mandate

44. Miraculous Conversion

45. Prodigal Son

46. Gentile Harvest

Part VI The Evangelist

47. Home Recall

48. Celestial Escape

49. New Beginning

50. Intervening Years

51. Anonymous Reunion

52. Ephesus Mission

53. Corinthian Regression

54. Corinth Revisited

55. Ephesian Hostility

56. Rescue Mission

57. Jerusalem Revisited

58. Melitan Miracles

59. New Shepherd

60. Final Mission

Part VII The Martyr

61. Reunited Brothers

62. The Truth

63. Victorious Athlete

Postscript

References

I

The Trial

Chapter 1:

Troubled Contemplations

Pontius Pilatus sat uneasily upon his elaborately gilded prefect’s throne situated within the main judicial hall of Herod’s Palace. He did not relish the prospect of being forced to be one of the lead players in what he viewed not only as a farce but as a blatant abuse of his authority. He had a longstanding contempt of the Jewish religious authorities (especially the self-righteous Pharisees) and what he perceived as their blatantly self-serving legalistic approach to their conduct of religious matters. His visceral dislike of them was based upon his considered opinion that they were not only insufferably arrogant but (more dangerously) were also grossly insubordinate to the Roman authorities.

As the Prefect of Judaea, he had often experienced their petty and vindictive objections to his decrees. Who were they (as his not-so-loyal subjects) to object to his decision to tastefully display gold-coated shields in honour of Caesar in Jerusalem? How dare they have the audacity of writing to Caesar Tiberius himself to demand their removal? And why did Caesar not only accede to their petty demands but also severely rebuke him for conducting an act of homage to his King? This lamentable episode represented a dark stain upon his troubled prefecture. Caesar does not forget or forgive failure of any kind. Would he consequently be cursed to remain stationed in this backward province that he considered thoroughly unworthy of Roman occupation?

Although he felt somewhat obliged to acquire a perfunctory understanding of their system of worship, he could not adequately comprehend how they could venerate a single all-powerful God when he was accustomed to paying tributes to a whole pantheon of gods. Admittedly, their behaviour was often far from exemplary. They were inclined to internecine conflict and seemingly showed a callous disregard for the welfare of men. They really could not in any way be considered as role-models. Perhaps it was hardly surprising that sexual perversion and promiscuity were so rife in the Roman Empire. This was something that deeply offended Pilate’s sensitivities which were surprisingly cultured for his time.

Homer once said that the ways of the gods were totally different to the ways of men. He had always felt that this comment was more than somewhat disingenuous. Whatever their faults (hypocrisy being one of the most obvious), at least the vast majority of the Jews eschewed this type of behaviour. At least they had that in their favour. This sense of (sexual) morality also reflected very well upon the character and integrity of their single all-powerful God. It was just a great pity that their religious authorities were so thoroughly detestable. Maybe their God deserved better priests. He shook his head upon reflecting this seemingly irrational contradiction and allowed a wry smile to briefly soften his stern face.

Maybe he was open to learning more about this foreign religion where the pursuit of justice and the forgiveness of one’s enemies were supposedly integral features. Far from being considered as virtuous, the latter precept (no matter how potentially noble) would generally be frowned upon within Roman society and seen as a display of weakness. After all, Roman Law was generally strong on punishment and weak on mercy. As the Prefect of Judaea, he had tended to apply this well-established principle in his dealings with the Jewish people. This admittedly somewhat heavy-handed approach to judicial affairs had (not surprisingly) engendered a strong element of animosity from his not-so-loyal subjects. This was a major cause for concern as he was under strict instructions to maintain the Pax Romana at all costs. After all, military intervention was expensive and therefore not in the best interest of the Empire. The unfortunate episode involving the gold-coated shields had already cost him much favour with Caesar. Surely another adverse event in this backward province would lead to a summons to Rome and inevitable disgrace – maybe even death. This was an option to be avoided at all costs.

Yet today, he was expected to deliver a judgement that would serve to appease the sensitivities of the hypocritical Jewish religious authorities. Pilate had taken it upon himself to discreetly follow the career of Jesus of Nazareth once his growing popularity amongst the common people had been brought to his attention. After all, he could not permit any of his subjects (including a presumptuous carpenter hailing from a distinctly unfashionable town) to foment unrest within an already volatile population that were seemingly always within an inch of insurrection. However, all the eye-witness reports that he had previously received from his spies, suggested that this man was uncommonly wise and had preached the virtue of tolerance towards one’s fellow man (including presumably Romans). Indeed, he had notably advised his followers to loyally pay their taxes to Caesar. This was (in Pilate’s somewhat jaundiced eyes) an extremely commendable action – one worthy of reward.

Indeed, Pilate had been curious to personally attend one of his meetings but had (on the grounds of security) refrained from doing so. Arriving with an entourage of guards might have provoked a riot which would have represented an adverse event. He had even briefly considered the possibility of disguising himself as a Jewish peasant in an attempt to mingle amongst the generally peaceful and attentive crowd. However, he wondered (with some trepidation) what the response of these people would have been had his true identity been unveiled. After all, he was far from being the most popular person in Judaea. In addition, his ruthlessly ambitious Roman peers (whose political sensitivities also needed to be pacified) would have strongly disapproved of such covert behaviour. It would have been deemed as being most unbecoming of a Prefect. It was always possible that one of them might have opportunistically reported him to his superiors in order to further damage his reputation. This, too, would have represented an adverse event.

Maybe he should have sought a private (and confidential) audience with the carpenter? Surely a humble artisan (no matter how wise and popular) would have been honoured to meet the Prefect? No matter, they were soon destined to meet – under extremely adverse circumstances for the carpenter. Uncharacteristically for him, Pilate already felt strangely and strongly convicted to show him mercy. They had never met – but Pilate already sensed that there was something indefinably special about the character of this man. This irrational (to him) realisation made Pilate increasingly uncomfortable. After all, the Jewish religious authorities had labelled this carpenter as the King of the Jews. Yet, by all accounts, he did not conduct himself remotely like a king. If anything, he went out of his way to humbly serve his adoring followers. He, yet again, shook his head in disbelief at the audacity and arrogance of the Pharisees. Surely this gentle man (over whose life Pilate now had complete authority) was worth a hundred of these sanctimonious hypocrites.

Chapter 2:

Dramatis Personae

Pilate’s uneasy contemplations were abruptly terminated by the cacophonous blast of an off-pitch trumpet announcing the imminent arrival of the prisoner and his accusers. It was seemingly an ill-feted start to a day of infamy. Would these proceedings (and their inevitable outcome) characterise him for eternity? Was this truly his earthly destiny – inextricably bound with that of a carpenter?

He could hear a growing commotion arising from the precinct of the courtyard located adjacent to the main judicial hall in which he was seated. Clearly audible were the high-pitched intonations of Caiaphas, the High Priest and arch-hypocrite. Pilate held him in special contempt as the anointed leader of this voracious pack of wolves who were inexorably closing in upon their hapless (and in his eyes innocent) victim. Cassius Longinus, the centurion in charge of the guards bustled into main judicial hall and slowly approached Pilate with an obviously perplexed look on his face. Realizing that something was already amiss, the Prefect (in equal measures of frustration and agitation) raised his eyebrows and briefly gazed upwards at the ceiling. He instinctively knew that the Roman gods were either totally disinterested or (more likely) totally impotent to assist him in his travails.

The clearly embarrassed and deeply apologetic centurion (whom Pilate had long held in the highest regard due to his exemplary combat record) stated that the Jewish religious authorities were refusing to enter the main judicial hall, as they did not wish to be ceremonially defiled and thereby prevented from eating their main Passover meal. The Prefect felt a surge of anger arising from deep within him. He scowled and gritted his teeth. This refusal to meet him within the main judicial hall (where his seat of authority was located) represented the ultimate personal insult and act of insubordination. The thought of crucifying Caiaphas rather than the humble (and in his eyes most likely innocent) carpenter from Nazareth briefly crossed his mind. Now that would teach these pesky Jews not be defy him and thereby the might of Rome. As satisfying a prospect as this represented, he immediately realized (with some regret) that this precipitant action would most likely spark a major insurrection from his already not-too-loyal subjects, whose primary allegiance was clearly directed to their religious authorities. He briefly wondered how the Roman priests serving their various deities would be able to handle such obvious political power. But then the realization struck him that this would never happen as the multitude of Roman gods did not come close to exerting the same effect upon the Roman people as the single all-powerful God did upon the Jewish people. He found this thought rather perplexing.

Pilate ruefully shook his head and slowly arose from his Prefect’s throne. He knew all-too-well that Caiaphas (with this seemingly petty religious-based objection) had cleverly outmanoeuvred him and would thereby derive the not-inconsiderable psychological advantage of forcing the presiding judge to meet the accusers on relatively neutral ground. This situation was outrageous and totally unacceptable in his eyes. Nonetheless, he had to job to perform and was expected to fulfil it to the best of his ability – even if this included bowing to popularist pressure in order to maintain the uneasy Pax Romana. Failure to do this would result in an inevitable summons to Rome with dire consequences. He therefore felt obliged to swallow his pride and accede to the demands of the Jewish religious authorities. It seemingly represented the path of least resistance.

As Pilate strode out to the spacious balcony overlooking the courtyard, he was quick to notice that the lean and hungry weasel-like High Priest was located at the vanguard of his entourage (which included the still highly influential former High Priest Annas, his father-in-law and his five brothers-in-law). The Prefect had to admit to himself that Caiaphas possessed a regal demeanour dressed in the splendour of his priestly robes. Indeed, he even felt somewhat outclassed by his opponent for the day. This relative lack of confidence was an ill omen and was something that he would have to actively combat. After all, his hard-fought career was potentially at stake. He could not and would not permit this powerful political rival to further outmanoeuvre him. He knew all-too-well from previous (and far from pleasant) experiences that these Jewish priests and scholars could be extremely erudite in their legalistic arguments. Their religious training seemingly equipped them well for such courtroom confrontations. They could always be relied upon to counter any of his comments. He had previously learned this at considerable personal cost.

Once Pilate was comfortably ensconced upon the balcony, the prisoner was escorted by two fully armed guards to a position on his left side. Although these fighting men were also tasked with protecting their charge from the anger of a clearly volatile mob, their presence seemed a gross overreaction as the carpenter was not (in the Prefect’s eyes) deemed to be a violent or dangerous man. He had apparently not resisted arrest and had willingly gone into custody. Upon his entry, the priests hurled voluble insults at him and those closest to him even spat in his direction. Pilate glared at them, showing obvious contempt for their thoroughly uncouth and uncalled for behaviour. Only the Roman plebeians would have reacted in such a barbaric way. He was genuinely surprised and somewhat unsettled by the intensity of their response. It was obviously going to be an extremely difficult and unpleasant day in court. He disliked disorderly conduct which deeply offended his sense of order and discipline. He knew all-too-well the destructive capabilities of an ill-disciplined mob. He could readily sense the mob mentality amongst the accusers. He wondered whether he should order a greater military presence within and around the Herod’s Palace. However, he deemed this action as ill-advised as it would likely serve only to further inflame an already volatile situation.

Despite an obvious element of facial disfiguration, courtesy of the earlier interrogation conducted by the Jewish religious authorities, Pilate could instantly recognise that the carpenter possessed an honest face. Even a kindly face. He looked strangely (almost surrealistically) at ease for someone who was facing the very real prospect of a cruelly prolonged and agonizing death. There was something admirable and even distinctly likeable about this man. Pilate allowed himself to ponder the underlying reason why these religious bigots hated him so much and precisely what he had done to harm them. No doubt, he would soon learn the answers to these musings. There was no reason to delay the court proceedings – although he was feeling increasingly unsettled at the prospect of having to judge this extraordinary man.

Chapter 3:

Initial Manoeuvres

With equal elements of curiosity and trepidation, Pilate ordered Caiaphas to succinctly present his argument as to why he considered Jesus of Nazareth to be guilty of a capital offense against Caesar. True to form, the chief hypocrite preceded his address with an ostentatious and totally disingenuous display of respect to the Prefect. Pilate could not help feeling offended by the excessive and totally insincere bowing and genuflexion performed in his honour. He instantly realized that this was Caiaphas’ rather transparent strategy of ingratiating himself to the presiding judge and thereby substantially raising his expectations of a favourable outcome. Pilate wondered what other manipulative tricks these Jewish religious authorities would employ in order to metaphorically twist his arm. He could feel his ire rising but realised that this was one occasion when he absolutely needed to control his notorious temper. This represented yet another not inconsiderable weight pressing harshly upon his already wearying mind.

After what seemed like an eternity, Caiaphas eventually completed his obviously well-prepared and insultingly insincere utterances and fell silent. Pilate somehow managed to refrain from rolling his eyes which would have betrayed his growing sense of irritation with the ingratiating antics adopted by the High Priest. He fully realized that he would need to adopt an imperious attitude in order to avoid being yet further outmanoeuvred in his exchanges with the Jewish religious authorities. Adopting the stern and authoritative look readily expected from a Roman judge and speaking with a stentorian voice, he commenced proceedings by enquiring as to the nature of the charges they were bringing against the prisoner. Pilate was acutely interested in discovering the true reason for these usually self-sufficient people feeling the dire need to escalate this seemingly clear-cut religious case to the jurisdiction of the Roman authorities. He sensed that they would (at