It’s Not Just a Story

Daily Thoughts – September 6^th  

One other place we visited in Jerusalem was the Palace of Caiaphas, the Church of St. Peter sits on the location today, but excavations have revealed the house of Caiaphas.  Caiaphas was the High Priest during the times of Jesus, and there are historical records from Josephus and others which identify that this is highly likely the location he would have resided. The Palace would have sat near the top of the hill adjacent to the temple mount and above the Mount of Olives.  There is a stone pathway leading directly up the hill from the Mount of Olives to the House of Caiaphas.  These stones were uncovered in early excavations, and provide a pathway that Jesus and the disciples most certainly descended as they left the last supper in the Upper Room on way to the Garden of Gethsemane near the Mount of Olives.  Likewise, those that arrested Jesus would have walked him along this path, shackled and beaten, on way back to the House of Caiaphas on the night that He was betrayed.

It’s Not Just a Story

“Those who had arrested Jesus took him to Caiaphas the high priest, where the teachers of the law and the elders had assembled” – Matthew 26:57 (in context)

On this night Judas betrayed Jesus, and turned Him over to be elders and soldiers.  They bound him, and led him back up the hill to the House of Caiaphas to begin the proceedings which would lead to His crucifixion.  As the chief priest, Caiaphas would have to see Jesus before He was sent to the Roman Pontiff – Pontius Pilot.  According to historical records, Caiaphas was High Priest from 26 AD to 37 AD.  As the High Priest of the Sanhedrin, it is safe to say that he was completely familiar with the prophetic messages from Isaiah 53, including – “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth.” Isaiah 53:7  So why, then, didn’t Caiaphas immediately connect the dots. 

It is so easy for us to sit here 2000 (+/-) years later and see how it is all connected, but he, as the High Priest, could not see it.  Perhaps the Lord blinded him from the truth so that the Lord’s will could be completed.  Perhaps Caiaphas’ ego got in the way, and he couldn’t imagine that the Son of God would be in the form of this poverished, humble servant.  Perhaps Caiaphas wasn’t looking for the fulfillment, and simply wanted to be done with another counterfeit Messiah, led by the indictment of the Pharisees who had co-ordinated the whole thing.  We don’t know.  But what we do know, based on scripture, is that Caiaphas beat Jesus, treated him like a criminal, and kept him in the dungeon until the morning hours where they transported him to Pontius Pilot.  In doing so, he fulfilled prophecies written down 700 years prior.  This in and of itself is a topic for another blog, but let me share with you the emotional roller coaster Lisa and I felt during our visit.

In our trek following the footsteps of Jesus, this is one of those areas where you know, without a doubt, that you are standing and walking where our Savior walked (or was dragged).  The steps leading up the hill have been excavated as the only passage leading to and from the location of Caiaphas house.  As we ascended the hill from the Garden of Gethsemane in the Mount of Olives, we went down through the Kidron Valley and then up these steps. 

I remember removing my shoes, walking barefoot along these steps, touching every stone along the way.  My Savior had place his foot, likely sandaled, but perhaps barefoot, on these very stones.  His DNA, the oils from His flesh, the cells of His skin had been in this exact spot, where now my feet are placed.  Knowing that the smoothness of the stones had been eroded over the last 2000 years, I realized that I wasn’t actually touching His flesh particles, but the thought that I was walking in the exact same spot was overwhelming. 

My heart pounded in my chest, I was biting my lip to hold back the emotions.  Then the realization that Jesus had walked these steps on His very last night on the earth became convicting to me.  I knelt in prayer as the others in our group moved forward.  I asked that God fill me with His spirit, so that I could move forward in this life to share this with others.  Let the spirit of my Savior, which walked this very path, fill me, so that others may feel the same overwhelming love for His sacrifice.  At this moment in 2001, my recommitment to my Savior became very real in my life. 

I write because I need to tell the stories.  I write because God gifted me so I could share His word.  I write because there just might be someone out there that has never considered the reality of my Savior.  The bible is not a book of stories.  It is a historical record of events that took place, and for those that doubt it’s authenticity, all I can say is that I know without a doubt that it is real.


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