Zealot - The Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth

of Israel; the immaculate turban
     sitting upon his head like a tiara, fronted by a gold plate on which is engraved the
     unutterable name of God; the
urim
and
thummim
, a sort of sacred dice made of wood and bone that the high priest carries in a pouch
     near his breast and through which he reveals the will of God by casting lots—all of
     these symbols of ostentation are meant to represent the high priest’s exclusive access
     to God. They are what make the high priest different; they set him apart from every
     other Jew in the world.
    It is for this reason that only the high priest can enter the Holy of Holies, and
     on only one day a year, Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, when all the sins of Israel
     are wiped clean. On this day, the high priest comes into the presence of God to atone
     for thewhole nation. If he is worthy of God’s blessing, Israel’s sins are forgiven. If he
     is not, a rope tied to his waist ensures that when God strikes him dead, he can be
     dragged out of the Holy of Holies without anyone else defiling the sanctuary.
    Of course, on this day, the high priest does die, though not, it would seem, by the
     hand of God.
    The priestly blessings complete and the
shema
sung (“Hear, O Israel: the Lord is our God, the Lord alone!”), the high priest Jonathan
     steps away from the altar and walks down the ramp into the Temple’s outer courts.
     The moment he arrives at the Court of Gentiles he is swallowed up by a frenzy of exaltation.
     The Temple guards form a barrier of purity around him, protecting the high priest
     from the contaminating hands of the masses. Yet it is easy for the assassin to track
     him. He does not need to follow the blinding glare of his bejeweled vestments. He
     need only listen for the jingle of the bells dangling from the hem of his robe. The
     peculiar melody is the surest sign that the high priest is coming. The high priest
     is near.
    The assassin elbows through the crowd, pushing close enough to Jonathan to reach out
     an invisible hand, to grasp the sacred vestments, to pull him away from the Temple
     guards and hold him in place, just for an instant, long enough to unsheathe a short
     dagger and slide it across his throat. A different sort of sacrifice.
    Before the high priest’s blood spills onto the Temple floor, before the guards can
     react to the broken rhythm of his stride, before anyone in the courtyard knows what
     has happened, the assassin has melted back into the crowd.
    You should not be surprised if he is the first to cry, “Murder!”

Chapter One
A Hole in the Corner
    Who killed Jonathan son of Ananus as he strode across the Temple Mount in the year
     56 C.E .? No doubt there were many in Jerusalem who longed to slay the rapacious high priest,
     and more than a few who would have liked to wipe out the bloated Temple priesthood
     in its entirety. For what must never be forgotten when speaking of first-century Palestine
     is that this land—this hallowed land from which the spirit of God flowed to the rest
     of the world—was occupied territory. Legions of Roman troops were stationed throughout
     Judea. Some six hundred Roman soldiers resided atop the Temple Mount itself, within
     the high stone walls of the Antonia Fortress, which buttressed the northwest corner
     of the Temple wall. The unclean centurion in his red cape and polished cuirass who
     paraded through the Court of Gentiles, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword,
     was a not so subtle reminder, if any were needed, of who really ruled this sacred
     place.
    Roman dominion over Jerusalem began in 63 B.C.E ., when Rome’s master tactician, Pompey Magnus, entered the city with his conquering
     legions and laid siege to the Temple. By then, Jerusalem had long since passed its
     economic and cultural zenith. The Canaanite settlement that King David had recast
     into the seat of hiskingdom, the city he had passed to his wayward son, Solomon, who built the first Temple
     to God—sacked and destroyed by the Babylonians in 586 B.C.E .—the city that had served as the religious, economic, and political capital of the
     Jewish nation for a thousand years, was, by the time Pompey strode through its gates,
     recognized less for its beauty and grandeur than for the religious fervor of its troublesome
     population.
    Situated on the southern plateau of the shaggy Judean mountains, between the twin
     peaks of Mount Scopus and the Mount of Olives, and flanked by the Kidron Valley in
     the