Miscast Caiaphas

By Kevin Eckstrom

Religion News Service

Caiaphas in long black robes and jewel-encrusted headdress, high priest at the time of the crucifixion, has the aura of a first-century Darth Vader.

Throughout Mel Gibson's gory blockbuster "The Passion of the Christ," the Jewish high priest, Caiaphas, seems keenly interested - and complicit - in the scourging and death of Jesus Christ.

Scholars, however, say Gibson has it all wrong.

Caiaphas is presented as a one-dimensional caricature - a sort of malevolent foil to the suffering Christ.

Such a depiction is too simplistic, they say, and dangerous.

Unfortunately for Caiaphas, it's nothing new. In most depictions, "Caiaphas is, at best, a representative of the lowest side of religion," writes Helen Bond, a New Testament lecturer at the University of Edinburgh, in her book, "Caiaphas: Friend of Rome and Judge of Jesus?"

"At worst, a representative of evil, a symbol of the depths to which humanity can sink when pitted against its God."

But just who was this holy man who handed Jesus over to the Romans for crucifixion? Was he as ruthless, as sinister as the Gospels and Gibson suggest, or was he actually an over-burdened diplomat intent on preserving his people's cherished link to God?

In her book, Bond paints an almost sympathetic view of Caiaphas as a man dedicated to protecting the Jerusalem Temple from both Jesus' messianic rabble-rousing and Roman interference.

"Caiaphas probably genuinely believed that in doing away with Jesus he was acting for the good of the nation," she writes. "What was the life of a deluded peasant when the house of God was at stake?"

Bond and others scholars say if indeed Caiaphas wanted Jesus dead, it wasn't because he claimed to be the Messiah - rather, it was a turf battle sparked by Jesus' infamous demonstration in the Temple.

What little is known of Caiaphas' life comes not from the Bible, but from Flavius Josephus, a first-century historian who chronicled Jewish life for the Romans.

As high priest, Caiaphas would have been an aristocrat who commanded automatic respect. His father-in-law, Ananus, was high priest between 6 and 15 A.D., and Caiaphas was appointed to the post in 18 A.D. by a Roman official.

His 18-year-year reign - he was deposed by Rome in 37 A.D. - was the longest of any high priest from the first century.

His service overlapped with that of Pontius Pilate, the brutal Roman governor who ultimately held the power to execute Jesus.

In 1992, archaeologists made a surprise discovery of an ossuary, or limestone box, that contained the bones of a 60-year-old man and several family members believed to be Joseph Caiaphas himself.

As high priest, Caiaphas would have overseen Temple affairs, especially animal sacrifices. He alone could enter the Temple's Holy of Holies on the most sacred day of the year to beg forgiveness from God for the sins of the people.

"He was the commander-in-chief of a very large corps of priests," said Rabbi Ismar Schorsch, chancellor of New York's Jewish Theological Seminary. In an interview, Bond described him as a sort of "suped-up pope."

It was his position as head of the Sanhedrin - the chief Jewish tribunal - that brought the priest and prophet together after Jesus' uprising in the Temple. It was a fateful encounter for both men.

Though the Gospels differ on its timing, they agree that Jesus entered the Temple and overturned the tables of the money-changers and animal vendors. He lambasted the authorities for turning the sacred site into a "den of robbers."

The Gospel of Matthew says Jewish leaders were "indignant" at Jesus' disruption. Later, after he was arrested, Jesus was brought before the Sanhedrin and questioned about the uprising, his claims to be the Messiah and predictions that the Temple would be destroyed.

Caiaphas, overwhelmed, pronounced Jesus guilty of the ultimate sin. "Why do we need any more witnesses?" he asked in the Gospel of Mark. "You have heard the blasphemy."

(In the Gospel of John, Caiaphas seems more troubled by reports of Jesus' miracles. "If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and then the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation," he said.

"You do not realize that it is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish.")

Both the Jews and Romans were on watch for any signs of trouble during the crowded Passover pilgrimage, and the priests especially would have wanted to maintain calm. Jesus' raucous followers didn't help matters.

Bruce Chilton, executive director of the Institute for Advanced Theology at Bard College, said it was Jesus' organized disturbance, not his claims as the Messiah or his miracles, that raised the ire of Caiaphas.

"For the authorities, this is a riot," said Chilton, an Episcopal priest. "Whatever it is, it has to be put down. And if you can find the instigator, you'd be well-advised to execute him to put down this kind of activity all together."

Other scholars, who say the Gospels are notoriously inaccurate as historical sources, doubt Caiaphas and Jesus ever met, or that Caiaphas sought to have him executed.

"About all Caiaphas would have had to do is ... alert the Temple police force that there is trouble out there, and make sure to keep it quiet," said L. Michael White, director of the Institute for the Study of Antiquity and Christian Origins at the University of Texas at Austin.

"The rest is done by the Roman authorities."

Scholars agree that would-be Messiahs were not uncommon during Jesus' life, but most were quickly dismissed as annoying pests. "I doubt if Jesus had just caused a disturbance up in the north of Galilee that the high priest would have come into play," said the University of Notre Dame's James VanderKam, author of the upcoming book, "From Joshua to Caiaphas: High Priests after the Exile."

"The fact that he did so at the Temple made it different."

Still, a key question remains.

Who was responsible for Jesus' death:

Caiaphas, the prosecutor?

Or Pilate, the executioner?

As a matter of history, crucifixion was a Roman punishment. But in terms of theology, Jews - led by Caiaphas - have been the easiest to blame for rejecting Jesus as the Messiah. "Caiaphas is not hard to demonize," said Schorsch. "When you treat this material polemically, you can do a lot of harm with it."

That's the danger of Gibson's film, argues White, from the University of Texas. The "magnitude of evil" heaped on Caiaphas over time is unjustified, and Gibson's film adds to the burden, he said.

"Gibson was scurrilously irresponsible on his part," White said. "The movie is horrendously anti-Semitic, and the treatment of Caiaphas is not going to make matters any easier."