Vitus

I. Mad Dogs and Romans

The only thing hotter than this infernal Judean hillside was Captain Vitus’ temper. And the moment the crazy Rabbi called Jesus said something stupid enough to deserve punishment Captain Vitus would be on him faster than a hot wind from Egypt. Jesus was wasting Vitus’ time and costing him a lot of money.

Earlier that summer, the Romans had stomped out a slew of rabble-rousers. Vitus’ crack unit had gained a reputation for busting up Jewish rebels. He was proud to have led the sting operation that captured the notorious criminal Barabbas. On the inside of their armor, his Roman Legionnaires etched a palm branch with little notches for each nut job they imprisoned or dispatched. Barabbas had earned two palm branches after smashing a tenderfoot’s face with a candlestick during his apprehension. Now rumor had it that this new Rabbi was apparently raising an army for himself. A few weeks earlier, the charlatan had convinced a few thousand of these backwater yokels that he had fed them all with only a handful of fish. Now they were ready to make him king. The local Centurions had gathered enough evidence to warrant Vitus’ unit’s involvement. Their orders stated to watch and listen. No intervention unless and only if the situation called for it. Vitus would find a way for the situation to call for it.

Vitus was hoping to kill two birds with one stone. The two-faced Syrian who owed him three months' wages was reportedly hanging out at the temple, as was Jesus. Vitus had planned to go to the temple, listen to Jesus, have one of his men grab the Syrian, accuse him of starting a ruckus and throw him in jail until he paid up. But Jesus had decided to teach out on a hill instead. So while the Syrian, and Vitus’ wages, prepared to slip away, Vitus was stuck sucking up dust while listening to this carpenter turned performance artist. Rome wanted to be sure this quack didn’t start a revolution. Vitus’ brain boiled under his helmet. It was too hot to think, but in truth, Jesus wasn’t making sense. Jesus himself insisted no one would understand him. A riddle spouting revolutionary, Vitus chuckled to himself, “No wonder Rome has conquered the world.”

Almost reading his mind, Vitus’ second in command Mustius, a former shot put champion from Antioch, walked over and muttered to Vitus, “What sort of King would this Jew make?” Vitus didn’t shift his gaze from Jesus. “Today?” he looked at his second in command, “A dead one.”

II. How to Stop a Murderer

Vitus had murder in his sun-baked eyes. Mustius turned to him, “Captain, it is hot as Hades and we’re all unhappy about having to baby-sit this Jesus. Perhaps you should step in the shade.” But Vitus was already moving down the muttering, “Someone is going to die today. Either this Jesus or that son of a whore Syrian or maybe both.”

Vitus barreled through the crowd shouting orders at beggars, cripples, and widows. He removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm without burning himself. He ordered a man loading cloaks onto a donkey to hand one over. The subservient Jew knew what to do and handed Vitus a cloak without a word or even looking up. Vitus covered his armor and headed for the temple double time.

In the market, Vitus took a quick look around. No Roman Standards. Good. If anyone saw him he could get reported to his Centurion or possibly higher. Pilate was willing to do whatever it took to stop insurgents, including discipline slackers severely. Pilate used Jewish literature as a warning to his men, “He who is slack in his work is brother to one who destroys.” Vitus caught himself mouthing the words aloud. Focus. The man Vitus was looking for always wore a ridiculous yellow and purple striped outfit.

Vitus headed toward the foreign goods section of the market. The Syrian imported rugs, along with young boys and girls from the far reaches of the northern Roman Empire for the novelty of their pale skin. The liar deserved every inch of Vitus’ “pugio,” the standard-issue dagger. Vitus worked the blade free with his right hand while navigating the draped silks and other fabrics wilting in the midday sun. Vitus found his target. He had killed many men in battle, but only murdered once. The judge extended Vitus the “gracious” punishment of life in the Legion. He was about to kill again. What irony. Vitus’ blade was barely concealed beneath his robe. The Syrian was making it too easy. One swift motion, one slit throat, one dead Syrian. Just a few more feet, he heard nothing, saw nothing, and felt nothing but murder in his heart. Then he heard the voice of a woman speaking Greek. “Captain Vitus?” The woman was Pilate’s wife.

III. It’s All Greek to Me

Though he only saw her out of the corner of his eye Vitus turned away and ran as if Cerberus the hellhound was at his heels. “She is the only woman who could have recognized me,” he thought as he ran. The only woman who would possibly address him so matter of fact in the public was Pilate’s wife Claudia Procles. She knew him and had taken a liking to him. She was most interested in the stories he had to tell of Jesus. She might think it was someone else and either way, he needed to get back on duty double time. Vitus ran south from the Temple, through the Probatica gate. He had intended to cut through town to the east and then make his way back south to where Jesus was. As he frantically looked over his shoulder for pursuers, Vitus ran into two lines of soldiers accompanying Governor Pilate.

“Halt!” a soldier shouted in Greek. Vitus stopped but did not look up. The soldier called the company to stand guard. Captain Vitus knew what they were thinking, this could easily be another assassination attempt. “Look at me you coward,” but Vitus did not obey. He stood stock-still without lifting his eyes from the ground. First Pilate’s wife, now Pilate. The soldier closed the few feet that separated them. Time stood still. Vitus watched an insect make its way across a rock the soldier was about to step on. The shadow of the man’s foot eclipsed the sun and all hope for the poor witless creature. Vitus, like the bug, couldn’t move or escape.

Vitus thought back twenty years when he stood in front of his sister’s home in Rome, a dead man at his feet. Vitus had paid a visit to his sister with the intention of encouraging her Syrian-born husband to stop hitting her. The monster had beaten his sister nightly because of a two-week affair she had while he was on a business trip in Crete. The husband told her the month of beatings was payment for what she had done. Vitus confronted his brother-in-law with the simple logic of debits and credits. His sister had created a debt by being unfaithful, a month of beatings paid double for the length of the affair. Since his brother-in-law had incurred his own debt of two weeks because of the extra beatings, Vitus took the two weeks out of him at once. A few minutes later Vitus had beaten his brother-in-law to death with an ebony walking stick.

The sound of the soldier stepping on the unsuspecting insect brought Vitus back to the present. In a flash, Vitus hatched a plan. He grasped his dagger and launched an uppercut hilt first so forceful the impact of the blunt handle still nearly took the soldier’s nose off. Before gravity even took an effect on the blood cloud exploding into the air Vitus began to run back towards the temple. He may not be able to murder the Syrian who owed him, but there was a slim chance he could get the soldiers on his tail to do it.

IV. The Quick and The Dead

Vitus didn’t look but he figured five to ten members of Pilate’s personal guard were chasing him. He knew the protocol. Ten men would have immediately formed up around Pilate when Vitus made his move. The other ten would be in pursuit. The question was the soldier whose face Vitus had caved in. Two to four guardsmen might be tending to their fallen comrade. No matter, Captain Vitus’ peers in the Roman Army would not cease their pursuit. Thankfully, his pursuers were dressed in full armor. Vitus was faster, but they were in good shape and they would never give up the chase.

Before he knew it, Vitus was back in the Temple. He heard shouting behind him and felt something zing by his ear. In the garment district, he lost his pursuers for a precious few moments among the rainbow maze of fabrics wafting in a searing breeze. Then behind a line of dark purple robes was the Syrian who owed him the money! This time Vitus was not discreet. He leapt over a cart of dates, figs, and pomegranates; taking the poor vendor, his food, and a small hen with him onto the Syrian’s back. The sex trafficking Syrian hit the ground with the hen clawing his shoulder. Vitus only had seconds to work his plan.

Vitus whipped off the robe he had been wearing to cover his uniform, yanked the Syrian to his feet, shoved the robe in his pomegranate-stained hands, and had his knife to the man’s throat before he could blink. Those nearby saw Vitus’ uniform and quickly went back to what they were doing. Vitus dragged the Syrian into a nearby alley, slapped him like a woman and said, “Put this robe on and your debt is clear with me!” The Syrian heard the Roman soldiers shouting for a man in a black and white robe, “Why Vitus?” but before the Captain’s name had cleared the Syrian’s lips, Vitus smacked him to the ground once again.

A few moments later, the Roman guard looking for the man who had assaulted their commander found a dead body in an alley and lauded a nearby date, fig, and pomegranate vendor for stopping the man and fighting him in an ugly duel to the death. Vitus didn’t see his plan unfold. He ran swiftly back towards his men and the Rabbi Jesus, wiping blood and pomegranate juice off his hands onto a small piece of the torn robe now covering a dead Syrian.

V. When the Man Comes Around

The Syrian was dead. The earth was rid of one more of his worthless kind. Vitus hadn’t gotten his money back but no one would think to accuse him of the altercation with Pilate’s guards. The Syrian had already paid for that misdeed, with his life. Perhaps Pilate’s wife would think she saw him at the Temple today, but his men would vouch he had been on duty all day. Now Vitus was white as snow thanks to the spilled blood of that Syrian child-trafficking pig.

He could finally slow down. He could see the field where Jesus was teaching. Topping the last hill he saw Jesus, in the middle of a crowd twice as large as the one Vitus left an hour earlier. The Rabbi paused, looked Vitus right in the eyes, and said, “Now let me tell you another story….”. It was this Rabbi’s fault he had to go to such extreme measures. In his newfound innocence, Vitus was back on duty and ready to show this Jewish storyteller what crossing the Romans earned. Vitus was not one to back down, and with blood still on his hands and his adrenaline pumping, he didn’t look away. Jesus didn’t break eye contact either as he began to tell the story of a servant who owed a King an enormous sum of money.

Captain Vitus moved through the crowd one step at a time, never looking away from Jesus. It looked like a gladiatorial stand-off. As Jesus spoke of a man who owed much and was forgiven, Vitus thought, “He is talking about me. He knows. Somehow he knows.” At thirty paces, Vitus unsheathed his dagger. Two of Jesus’ men stepped forward. Vitus recognized one as the roughneck fisherman Jesus called by his gang name, Peter. The other was a former tax collector named Matthew.

Years later, one of Vitus’ descendants, a Bishop in Rome, read the remainder of the parable Jesus told that day written down by Matthew.

"But when that servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred denarii. He grabbed him and began to choke him. 'Pay back what you owe me!' he demanded. His fellow servant fell to his knees and begged him, 'Be patient with me, and I will pay you back.' But he refused. Instead, he went off and had the man thrown into prison until he could pay the debt. When the other servants saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed and went and told their master everything that had happened.”

“Then the master called the servant in. 'You wicked servant,' he said, 'I canceled all that debt of yours because you begged me to. Shouldn't you have had mercy on your fellow servant just as I had on you?' In anger, his master turned him over to the jailers to be tortured, until he should pay back all he owed. This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother from your heart."

As Jesus reached the conclusion of the story Vitus was within arms reach of Matthew and Peter and only a couple of paces in front of Jesus. The crowd fell silent. Vitus men were behind him. Jesus would break contact with Vitus’ glare. “How does he know about the Syrian?” Vitus said, “Look away Jew,” but Jesus did not. “By Pilate and Caesar, I said look away!” Jesus did not. Vitus’ men charged. Peter and Matthew were taken down, but not without a fight. Peter kicked one soldier in the teeth as they took him to the ground. Although outnumbered, Captain Vitus’ men were better trained and equipped than Jesus’ posse. The fight was over quickly. Vitus brought Jesus to the ground and put his dagger to the Rabbi’s throat.

Vitus knocked Jesus’ head against the ground, “Stop looking at me Jesus or I will kill you!” As he put his dagger to the Rabbi’s throat, Vitus felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Mustius. “This would be murder Captain, this man has done nothing wrong.” Vitus exploded, “I am a murderer!” and slammed the Rabbi’s head against the ground again. For a moment all was quiet except a desert wind winding through a nearby olive tree. Then Jesus spoke, “Yes Captain, you are a murderer.” Confused, Vitus suddenly felt lightheaded. Jesus continued, “You don’t have to do this Vitus.” Vitus broke into a sweat and began to tear up, he couldn’t believe himself. With his next breath he began to sob. “Forgive me,” he whispered as his tears, saliva and snot dripped onto Jesus’ beard. “You are forgiven Vitus.” Vitus let loose the dagger and collapsed. He clutched Jesus as a child would a father. “What?” Vitus said, choking back tears. Jesus wrapped his arms around Vitus as the two men lay face to face on the ground. “I forgive you Vitus. For everything.” There in Jesus' arms Vitus wept.

The End