THE WHITE CLOAK
The third judge before
whom Jesus was led was a son of that bloody-minded hog, Herod the Great, by one
of his five wives. He was the true son of his father because he wronged his
brothers as his father had wronged his sons. When his brother Archelaus, his
own half-brother, was accused by his subjects, he managed to have him exiled.
He robbed his other brother Herod of his wife. When he was seventeen years old
he began to reign as Tetrarch over Galilee and over Berea, and to cozy up
himself with Tiberius, offered himself as a secret tale-bearer of the sayings
and doings of his brothers and of the Roman officials in Judea. On a voyage to
Rome he fell in love with Herodias, who was both his niece and his
sister-in-law, since she was the daughter of his brother Aristobulus, and wife
of his brother Herod, and not shrinking from the double incest, he persuaded
her to follow him, together with Salome, the daughter of the adulteress. His
first wife, daughter of Aretas, king of the Nabatei, went back to her father,
who declared war on Antipas and defeated him.
This happened while John
the Baptist was beginning to be talked about among the people. The prophet let
slip some words of condemnation against these two incestuous adulterers, and
this was enough for Herodias to persuade her new husband to have him taken and
shut up in the fortress of Machmrus. Everyone knows how the foul Tetrarch,
inflamed by cruel Salome's lascivious arts, and perhaps meditating a new
incest, was forced to offer her the bearded head of the Prophet of Fire on a
golden platter.
But even after his
decapitation John's shade disturbed Herod, and when he began to hear talk of
Jesus and of His miracles he said to his courtiers, "This is John the Baptist; he is risen from the dead." (Matt. 14:2)
It seems that he kept his
eye on the new prophet, and that at one time he thought of serving Him as he
had his precursor; but either for political or superstitious reasons, deciding
that he would have no more to do with prophets, he saw that the best way was to
force Jesus to leave his Tetrarchy. One day some Pharisees, very probably
acting on Herod's instructions, went to say to Jesus: "Get thee out, and depart hence: for Herod will kill thee."
(Luke 13:31)
"And
he said unto them, Go ye and tell that fox . . . nevertheless I must walk
today, and tomorrow, and the day following; for it cannot be that a prophet
perish out of Jerusalem." (Vs. 32)
And now at Jerusalem near
His death, He appeared before that fox. That traitor and spy, incestuous
adulterer, assassin of John and enemy of the prophets was the most fitting
person to condemn innocence. But Jesus had named him well: he was more fox than
tiger, and he shrank from being a substitute for Pilate. Luke tells us, "When Herod saw Jesus he was exceeding
glad: for he was desirous to see him of a long season, because he had heard
many things of him; and he hoped to have seen some miracle done by him."
(Luke 23:8)
The son of the Idumean
and the Samaritan woman had scorched himself in John's fire, and he received
Jesus as an old tamer of animals, with the marks of the lion's teeth still on
his arm, looks at a new wild animal brought for him to see. But, like all
Oriental barbarians, his mind was obsessed by prodigies, and he imagined Jesus
to be a wandering wizard who could, whenever He wished, repeat some of His
sorcery. Herod hated Him as he had hated John, but he hated Him partly because
he feared Him; the prophets had a power which Herod did not understand and
which intimidated him: perhaps the beheading of John had brought him bad luck.
He too wished Jesus to be killed, but he had no mind to be in any way responsible
for His death.
Seeing that there were no
miracles to be expected, he began to put many questions, to which Jesus made no
answer. He had broken His silence for Annas, for Caiaphas, for Pilate, but He
would not for this crowned rascal! Annas and Caiaphas were His declared enemies,
Pilate was a blind man groping along, thinking that he was saving Him, but this
Herod was a cowardly fox and did not deserve even an insult. The High Priests
and the Scribes, fearing that John's assassin would be too cowardly to kill
Jesus, as in fact he was, had followed their victim there and vehemently accused
him. These furious accusations and the silence of the accused man deepened the
hidden rancor of Antipas, who, together with his soldiers, abused the Man of
divine silences, threw over his shoulders a gorgeous robe, and sent Him again
to Pilate.
Like Pilate, but for
other reasons, he was not willing to condemn the man baptized by John, and who
perhaps was John himself returned from the dead to avenge himself. But when he
sent Him away he made Him a gift which bears unconscious witness to the rank of
the man about to die. The mantle, shining with whiteness, was, so Josephus
says, the garment of the Jewish Kings, and Jesus was accused of wishing to make
Himself King of the Jews. Antipas, the astute, wished to ridicule the
pretensions of Jesus by ironically making him a present of the regal robe; but
when he covered Him with that whiteness, which is the symbol of innocence and
of sovereignty, the ignoble fox sent to Pilate a symbolical message which involuntarily
confirmed the message of Claudia Procula, the accusation of Caiaphas, and what
Christ Himself had said.
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