I Appeal To Caesar!

“What is wrong with your leader? Is he blind?” several

ask.

The embarrassed soldiers, unsure of themselves, answer in simple honesty: “We think he has seen a vision, that God has been talking to him.” Actually, this answer in their part of the world is acceptable; any curious person would probably reply, “Yes, these things happen. We hope he gets well soon!” The weary team, at last, traverses the Main Gate; the road before and after them is now filled to overflowing with sojourners of every description. This astounding volume of people has come from the entire known world, by innumerable bypasses and using every conveyance possible. Many arrive with donkeys laden with merchandise of every kind: earthen jars, precious metals dug up in distant countries, woven garments, loads of incense and spices, washed sheepskins, and colored cloths from the shores of Tyre and Sidon. Rich and noble men ride in the comfort of their palanquins, while their personal slaves lift and labor with the supporting poles and other slaves herald their arrival before and at the sides, keeping the road clear for passage. Most impressive, perhaps, are the Arab Bedouins with their bundled tents and their household possessions piled high between the humps of their camels. In contrast, the Caiaphas ambassadors make their humble entrance. No one meets them, of course, and easily they are swallowed up by the traffic of the caravan center.