Perhaps Sherlock Holmes is not the most expected starting place for discussing a book about Judas Iscariot, but the book owes much to Holmes' methods. In light of this fact, I thought it best to present an overview of these methods here, as if recorded by his faithful chronicler, John Watson. This is the second of four such articles. In the first, Holmes is seen presenting his thoughts on the gospels themselves (If you haven't yet read the first blog, you may do so here). In this article and in the final two, Holmes will discuss three of the major players in my novel, The Doomed Disciple: Joseph of Arimathea, Simon the Leper, and finally, Judas Iscariot himself.
I hope you enjoy these fictional memoirs as these fictional characters discuss the reality of Biblical claims, using very real methods to test their validity. For your enjoyment:
A Case of Identity: Joseph of Arimathaea
It was on another hot day not long after our conversation with Mrs. Hudson that Holmes and I found ourselves again trapped by one of the most difficult and recurring problems of his career: boredom. Though I have notes on some hundreds of cases, the cruel fact remains that the lack of steady employ was a bane to Holmes's existence which reared its ugly head time and time again. The great crescendos which my readers are so used to experiencing were often mingled with dreary lows—sometimes days or weeks on end—where no case of interest would appear, and Holmes would inevitably turn to the distraction of oblivion.
This day was one of those, and as I saw my companion's eye draw steadily toward his needle case, our former conversation in Mrs. Hudson's parlor flashed before my mind, and I attempted to divert his concentration away from his seven-percent solution and toward some better solution. Whenever Holmes reached this level of boredom, there was but one subject on which he had any interest in conversation, and that was the topic of mystery. I had none to give, but if I could turn his thoughts toward a different type of mystery, perhaps I could stave off his seven-percent solution for a time.
“Holmes,” I asked, as his hand reached for the needle case, “what can you tell me of Joseph of Arimathaea?”
He paused, glancing at me with a most curious expression. “Practically nothing,” he said finally, before turning his attention back to his solution.
It was clear that I must try more tantalizing bait. “Nothing? You?” I asked. “Why, you can tell a stranger's entire story from the wear on his hat, but you can glean nothing from four different accounts of this man? For once, it is not your ability which astounds me, but your lack of it.”
I was sure that Holmes's pride would not allow him to drop the subject now. He had been reclining on the faded green settee in our sitting room, but he now sat up, placing his feet on the floor and folding his arms. “There is no mystery here, Watson; I know exactly what you are doing.”
“I'm serious, Holmes!” said I. “I am curious to know how far we can stretch your powers of reasoning. Here is a man who we know practically nothing about, as you have so graciously said, and yet, I think, if we apply your reasoning to what scant facts we have, we may discover some new information.”
Holmes shrugged. “It is a pointless exercise, Watson; even if we made some inference regarding the little information which has been given to us, we have no possible means of proving it.”
My companion was right, of course. “Still, we can establish some few facts,” I began. “If the gospel accounts are of factual events, we can—”
“If?” Holmes asked, cutting me off. “Watson, the gospel accounts can be considered accurate historically beyond a reasonable doubt. There is more evidence for the existence of Jesus of Nazareth than there is for Alexander the Great! Even secular sources like Tacitus or Pliny the Younger corroborate the existence of Jesus, and if his existence is fact, logic dictates that the gospel accounts must be considered accurate, as I have already explained. No other explanation suitably fits the facts, and we cannot twist the facts to fit our theories. If one had the inclination, he could corroborate almost all the claims of the gospels exclusively from hostile sources. If you still find the fact of his existence to be incredible, then it seems my methods mean nothing to you, whatever.”
Holmes was usually a genial companion, but the boredom effected him far more than it did me, and there were times when his moods made him more difficult than he ought to be. I pressed on. “I only meant to say, Holmes, that because the gospel accounts are factual, we can rely upon the fact that the individuals mentioned are genuine people, and have motives and intents which can be studied with the same consideration as any person alive today. So, what do we know about this man, and what does it tell us about him? We are told that he was rich, lived about halfway between Jerusalem and the Mediterranean Sea, if I recall, and that he was a member of the Sanhedrin council.”
“He was from Arimathaea, Watson,” Holmes corrected me. “We do not know if he lived there at the time of the events. He was in Jerusalem at that time.”
“But it was during a feast,” I countered. “All Jewish men of age were expected to be in Jerusalem.”
“You see?” Holmes said, shrugging again. “There is no possible way to establish any facts other than the ones stated.”
I crossed the room to one of Holmes's bookcases and withdrew a worn new testament which had carried me through my long recovery following the battle of Maiwand. “Matthew gives us no details about his life other than the fact that he was a rich man of Arimathaea.”
“None, Watson?” Holmes asked. “None at all?”
“I don't believe so,” I said, scanning the short account for any additional details. “Not about the man personally.”
“It does not give you his profession?”
“No.”
Holmes grunted. “Hmm, I was certain that it said he had carved his own tomb.”
“I thought that was just a figure of speech,” I admitted.
Holmes laughed. “And who is dismissing facts now, eh Watson? Either he is a successful stone-cutter, or he is a wealthy man with the peculiar hobby of grave-digging.”
“Well, it could simply be a figure of speech, meaning that the grave was not inherited, but that he purchased it or instigated its construction. I would hardly imagine that a wealthy man would dig his own tomb.”
Holmes shrugged as I returned to my chair.
Holmes fell into silence again, and his disinterest forced me to continue my search for more details. “Mark says that he was an 'honorable councilor,' and boldly went to Pilate to ask for Jesus's body.” I thumbed through several pages more before finding the next mention of this mysterious personage. “Luke agrees by saying he was a 'good and just councilor,' and that he had dissented with the verdict. I suppose that would be the Jewish Sanhedrin council?”
“Yes, Watson,” Holmes said patiently. “The Sanhedrin was the primary means of interpreting Jewish Law, but they were forced to compete with both Herod Antipas and Pontius Pilate for political authority. It was always a delicate balance and often a dangerous one.”
“Yes,” said I, “and this is the climate in which Joseph of Arimathaea found himself: caught between Rome, Herod, and his fellow council members, and he chooses to cast a dissenting opinion, even at the risk of political suicide.”
“Quite so,” Holmes agreed. I observed with great relief a faint spark of interest in his features as we continued. “Yet John states that Joseph was only a disciple in secret. He was only bold at the end, when he had nothing left to lose.”
“What do you mean, Holmes?” I asked.
“If Joseph was only a disciple in secret, then he couldn't have been very bold in the beginning, could he?”
“He could have been a man who preferred privacy,” I countered. “Many such men exist today, who prefer not to reveal their true feelings on every subject, especially regarding matters of political controversy.”
“It would appear that Joseph was such a man,” Holmes agreed, “but at the end, when he realizes the plight his master is trapped within, he lays all his cards on the table, so to speak. Unfortunately, he is too late, and his opinion fails to sway the vote in his master's favor. Jesus is condemned by the council despite Joseph's efforts, and Herod and Pilate quickly crumble under the political pressure.”
“There has been no greater miscarriage of justice before or since!” said I, my blood rising at the thought of such undeserved cruelty.
Holmes shrugged calmly. “Perhaps not, but you are drifting from your topic, Watson. I thought you wished to know about Joseph of Arimathaea. Or did you only wish to distract me from my distractions?” He smiled knowingly.
I stammered out some hasty reply, denying such accusations, and Holmes laughed.
“Watson, you are like Nathanael;” he said, “you have no guile. I admire your honesty, my dear Watson, but in my profession, one must become adept at all methods of communication, even dishonest ones. Now, why would this Joseph suddenly grow a spine after his master's condemnation? Would that not have rather cowed him instead?”
“It seems more likely,” I admitted. “The twelve were certainly effected in such a way.”
“And yet Joseph responds differently. Do you know why that is, Watson?”
I admitted that I did not.
“Because the twelve—or the eleven, I should say—were terrified of losing everything. Joseph had already lost everything. He had kept his beliefs a secret, and when Jesus was finally brought before the council, Joseph knew that his master was doomed if he could not sway the council. I would imagine that he used every impassioned argument he could grasp, but by allying himself so firmly with the man his fellows hated so passionately, Joseph only succeeded in committing political suicide. After failing so publicly, and losing all credibility with his peers, he decides to make one final attempt to give his master a bit of dignity.”
“Yes!” I said, suddenly recalling something from a history book on Rome which I had read some years ago. “Rome did not allow crucified victims the right of burial.”
“Correct, Watson,” Holmes said proudly. “But burial was integral to the Jewish culture. Joseph could not allow such an indignity upon his master, and it would seem that with his position and his hope in a Messiah stripped from him, Pilate's fury meant little to him. However, Pilate's guilt over his cowardly response to the mob's demands make him almost eager to agree to Joseph's request and thereby relieve his guilt in some degree, and Joseph gains legal right to do what he wishes with the body of Jesus.”
We sat in silence for a time, both thinking over how Joseph must have felt after such a trying day. At least, I was thinking of such things. “A grisly business, Watson,” Holmes commented after a time. “Especially for a rich man.”
“You mean begging Pilate for the body?” I asked. “I suppose a rich man would not be one to beg.”
“No, no,” Holmes replied. “I mean the business of pulling a corpse from a cross.”
My face paled at this terrible thought. “I hadn't thought about the practicality of it.”
“I thought not, Watson,” Holmes said. “But such matters must be considered. Crosses were often left upright—at least, the vertical portion. That means that to remove a body from a cross, one must climb up the back to remove the nails. He likely used a cloth to wrap the body and to enable the corpse to act as a counter-balance for himself, but one can imagine the difficulty of working loose those large nails with such little leverage. I would imagine the wrists and ankles of the condemned would have taken significantly more damage before they were finally worked free.”
“Holmes, please! The thought is too horrible,” I said.
“Come now, Watson, you're a medical man,” Holmes chided me.
“Yes, but to speak of our Lord in such a way...”
Holmes shrugged. “You may speak however you please, thanks to almost two thousand years of reverence, but the fact remains that these matters must have been considered on Friday afternoon, and their haste to get his body down before the sun set would not have lent their movements any tenderness. The blood would have still been fresh at that time, as you well know. By the time they had the body wrapped, Joseph and Nicodemus must have both been covered in blood.”
“Yes,” I said quietly.
“For a medical man or a soldier, like yourself, Watson, this would be trying enough, but for men of social stature, like Joseph of Arimathaea and Nicodemus, this would have been quite a trial. The grisly work would have been intensified by the social shame of retrieving a body from a cross. It is likely that they were forced to miss Passover as a result, since, as you recall, the council had not yet partaken.”
“It does seem that Joseph truly lost everything,” I said. “I have never thought about it in such a way.”
“Did he lose everything, Watson?” Holmes asked. “Or did he gain everything?”
“A bit of both, I suppose. He is certainly remembered as a great man. Legend even says that he is the one who brought the Grail to England.”
Holmes looked up sharply. “Yes,” he said carefully. “I have heard that rumor before. That is another mystery that is likely lost entirely to the realm of speculation.” He sighed, staring out the window in thought for a moment before turning to me with a careless expression. “Are there any other historical characters upon which you wish to test your powers of deduction?”
I thought it best to take advantage of this sudden change in mood. “I... I can't say,” I admitted. “Have you anyone in mind?”
Holmes grinned. “A certain Pharisee by the name of Simon,” he said. “A most complex and interesting character, and a critical one who is so often overlooked.”
“Indeed?” I said. “You have captured my interest, Holmes.”
“Excellent!” he replied. “And there is a rich sea of details from which we shall gather our inferences with the net of reason. Come, Watson, we shall become fishers of facts.”
For more information on these people or my novels, check out these links:
The Doomed Disciple, by Paul Campbell
Grayscale by Paul Campbell
The Complete Annotated Sherlock Holmes, by William S. Baring-Gould
Jesus through Middle Eastern Eyes, by Kenneth E. Bailey
Cold-Case Christianity, by J. Warner Wallace
Much thanks to J. Warner Wallace's research for this article. Like Sherlock Holmes, Wallace is a retired cold-case homicide detective, and became a Christian by applying his investigative skills to test the gospel accounts. Unsurprisingly, they check every box for reliable eyewitness testimony. He has many blogs, youtube videos, podcasts, and several books about this very subject, and I highly recommend his research to any armchair detectives like myself. To learn more about J. Warner Wallace, visit www.coldcasechristianity.com
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