Triumph Of Jesus (part 7)

The procession had wound through the city.  The crowds had cheered the triumphator and his army, while mocking the defeated foes.  Finally they reached Capitoline hill.  It is here that the exalted general and his armies would pay homage to the one from whom they received the power to conquer, and where those conquered would face the image of mighty Jupiter, realizing that the great god of Rome had overcome their pithy deities. 

The defeated army was forced to part, to give way to their king and to his bedraggled generals.  They were marched through the midst of their men, bound in heavy chains.  Then they were forced to trudge through the midst of the army that had broken the spirits of their fighting men and hastened their demise.  Finally, they were presented to the triumphator, who dragged them, by their chains, up the steps of Jupiter’s temple, where he would force them to participate in a sacrifice in honor of Rome’s supreme deity before employing them as gruesome examples of the eternal might of Rome. 

It was reported, quite comically I might add, that the king had attempted to infiltrate the ranks of Rome’s army, promising some of Rome’s soldiers all of the splendor and treasures that his kingdom had to offer, if only they would turn their backs on Rome, leave their posts, fight for him, and encourage others to do the same.  Comical, for what king could offer something that glorious Rome could not provide?  Surprisingly and tragically, some had been won over to his side.  Traitors!  They too had been identified and captured.  Infamy would come upon them and their fates would not be dissimilar to the one that wooed them.  I’m sure they wished that they had not joined his side. 

They had renounced the marks that had been placed on their bodies, identifying them as members of the Roman legion.  As part of their disavowal of Rome, they had scraped those various marks from off of their skin.  This new mark, they were told, the one that showed that they had left the side of Rome, would cause them to be honored by their new people and their gods.  They had genuflected before gods that were doomed to fall.  They had even consented to worshiping that king as if he was a god in the mold of blessed Caesar.  How absurd.  Now, that same mark, an anti-mark really, was one of ignominy.  It branded them as traitorous rebels.  Many have attempted to mount campaigns of propaganda against Rome, against its emperor, and against its gods.  All had failed.  All will fail!  Futility indeed. 

The white bulls were offered in sacrifice.  Then, the king and his generals were brought forward, with the generals forced to take a knee.  The very dagger that had been used to slit the throats of the sacrificial bulls was placed in the hands of the triumphator.  With one swift motion, each of the generals, in turn, was dispatched from this mortal existence---their immortal souls sent to wander the underworlds in punishment for their crimes against the empire of the son of god.  Then the king himself, who had attempted to stand against the power of almighty Caesar, was forced to kneel before the altar of Jupiter.  He was forced to bend his knees, acknowledging the being who is supreme over all.  Having done this, the triumphator, having had one of the fasces placed in his hand, drew back, swung the axe, and decapitated the now permanently fallen king. 

Triumph Of Jesus (part 6)

Today and today only, he bore the titles ultimately reserved for Caesar.  Along with the crowds, I read the embroidered titles and hailed him as the greatest of all kings and greatest of lords.  When I read them I thought of Caesar, for the triumphator merely bears the title and the power in proxy.  Though he is the greatest of Rome’s generals, and though he has achieved an exalted position, at any moment Caesar could demand him to turn over his army and he would have no choice but to acquiesce.  He will, however, get to keep the crown, the robes, and the baton for the remainder of his life, though I’m sure that if the Caesar asked him to return them for any reason, he would gladly do so. 

He’s a man of humility, and that is part of the reason that he is being so celebrated.  His popular support is so great and his army so loyal that he could have, at any time, easily marched on Rome and overthrown Caesar himself, but he has chosen not to do this.  It probably never even crossed his mind to grasp at Caesar’s throne, which is yet another reason to hail him.  Listen to me going on and on.  It’s almost like I’m worshiping him as if it were he that was the son of god, rather than the Caesar himself.    

As I continued to watch, and as I continued to be enveloped in a sense of amazement at the sight before me, I heard the voice of the heralds.  They were traveling through the crowds reminding all on-lookers that the celebration would not end at the conclusion of the ‘triumph,’ but that the Caesar expected all the citizens of Rome to carry the festivities into the night, doing so with joyous feasting.  The heralds walked the crowds, speaking of the great exploits of the soldiers, of their service to Rome, and of their felicity to that which was symbolized by the eagle emblazoned upon their banners, saying ‘Open your homes to the fighting men of Rome!  Invite them to your banquets!  Let them eat their fill!  In service to Rome, they have taken their lives in their hands to conquer generals and all manner of powerful people!  They faced down charging horses so that all, free men and slaves, might continue to enjoy the benefits of all that Rome has to offer!  You owe them your hospitality and your very lives!  Honor them!’  I certainly hoped that I would have the honor of hosting one of these brave warriors. 

Behind the triumphator and his army came those that he had conquered.  Foolishly, they had attempted to do battle with Rome’s greatest general.  Not unexpectedly, they had failed; and now, they were going to suffer the end of all that attempted to stand against the glorious Roman empire, its Caesar, and its legions.  I saw the king of the conquered peoples.  I saw the greatest of his generals.  Poor fools.  They did not realize the futility in which they were engaged.  They did not realize that their doom had been sealed when Caesar sent out his armies under the command of this particular triumphator.  Examples were going to be made of these men, and that example was going to be published far and wide as a warning against those that might attempt the same.  The king and his generals, so used to riding at the front of their army in all of their regal splendor, had been forced to come last in the procession, stripped of all semblances of power and bearing the scorn and insults of the crowd.  For them, shame was heaped upon shame. 

Triumph Of Jesus (part 5)

I could spend all day describing the triumphator alone, but of course, no man does what he has done by himself.  An army is required to conquer, and his is a fine one.  So yes, the army of Rome followed him triumphantly, as would be appropriate, and they were certainly decked out in all of their military splendor for this occasion.  Some walked and some rode horses---fine steeds indeed.  Rome has the finest horses, of that there is no doubt.  The spoils from this war must have been great, as it looked like they were all wearing brand new uniforms and brand new armor.  Normally, one would expect to see evidences of battle, especially some spatterings of blood, but there were none to be seen.  They looked sharp.  Crisp and clean.  That certainly said something about the way that Caesar felt about this man and his accomplishments on behalf of glorious Rome. 

Getting back to the triumphator, I could see that he was carrying the ivory baton.  You don’t see this every time either.  Yet more evidence about the nature of Caesar’s feelings toward this general, as if the fact of the adoption wasn’t enough to communicate such things.  He held the baton aloft like a sword, as if he is charging in to battle right now, with army in tow.  I wonder if he lead his army into battle or if he called out the execution of battle plans from the safety of the rear.  Something tells me that this general was out front, risking himself bravely for his king, his gods, and his fellow countrymen. 

Between him and his army came his bodyguards.  He had a group of them.  I’ve never seen that many, though I’m told that if this was a ‘triumph’ for the Caesar, that he would have that many, if not more.  A general has never had that many bodyguards.  I suppose being the newly adopted son of Caesar affords one such luxuries.  Perhaps they are necessities?  After all, Caesar does have his enemies---there’s always rumblings among the people.  One hears things.  Each of the bodyguards is carrying a ‘fasces.’  Ah, the symbol of Rome and its power. 

Has there ever been a kingdom more glorious than Rome?  Has there ever been an empire so powerful?  When Rome strikes, nations fall.  Sure, other empires may have been larger geographically, but none has ever been united in the manner of Rome, with its roads, its aqueducts, and especially its religion.  Combined with the wonderful system of Roman justice and the ever-present military to help preserve the occasional outbreak of revolution (though why anybody would want to revolt against Rome, I have no idea), Caesar’s rule is iron-clad.  Rarely does Caesar have to execute his power on a grand scale, but when he does, it can indeed be furious, like the falling of the wrath of all-powerful Jupiter himself. 

We have all heard tales of the fury of Rome’s legions when unleashed---the ‘gates of hell’ I believe it is called.  I would never want to experience it, that’s for sure.  Pity those who do.  Once the full force of Rome’s military might is marshaled, battles tend to come to an end very quickly.  This triumphator, I’m told, had done this very thing.  He probably could have refrained from doing so, but then the war would have dragged on and on, and more would have died needlessly.  He had an enemy to defeat.  He knew that if he could bring down or capture just one general in particular, then Rome’s victory would come quickly.  Owing to that, his strategy was to bring it all to a grand conclusion, at a single time and place, and that is just what he did.  He risked a great deal by this, but the enemy was defeated and many were spared. A plan executed flawlessly!  So not only does it seem that he has very much earned this adoption by Caesar, but he has earned the titles that he bears on this day, which were embroidered on his tunic. 

Triumph Of Jesus (part 4)

I saw the special gates, only used for these ‘triumphs,’ opened to reveal the ‘vir triumphalis,’ as he used to be called.  Now they refer to him as the ‘triumphator.’  I wonder why that has changed.  I’ll bet a previous Caesar used it, maybe Augustus, and didn’t want anybody else to ever have that same name.  Will Rome ever have another one like him?  Oh, we could only hope.  Either way, if I was down among the people, I would have simply referred to him as the ‘man of triumph,’ as we normally do, but since I’m being asked to write a report for the Emperor, and since it was a possibility that it was going to be sent around to a number of cities that he plans to visit soon, along with the general that is being celebrated, that calls for the use of proper terminology.  So I thought that I might as well start thinking along those lines, so ‘triumphator’ it is. 

The gates were opened and I saw him.  The triumphator was riding in a brilliant white chariot, being pulled by a team of the most beautiful white horses that I had ever seen.  The chariot had writing on the side.  I could just make out what it read: ‘A faithful son of Rome.  A true leader of men.’  I was able to have a bit more background information than usual, and I was told that he was personally chosen by Caesar to lead this campaign, and that he was hand-selected to bring and impose Rome’s glorious justice upon the peoples of the enemy against which Rome was forced to go to war.  Truly, they will benefit from the ‘pax Romana,’ and will come to understand just what it means to experience ‘pax et securitas.’ 

His face was painted red, like Jupiter.  It made his face look like it was on fire.  They had done something with his eyes.  It was almost like they were glowing.  It was very impressive.  Naturally, he was wearing the laurel wreath crown.  Not surprisingly, given the extra special nature of this parituclar ‘triumph’ and triumphator, he was wearing the ‘corona triumphalis.’  For those that may be unfamiliar with this, that doesn’t happen with every ‘triumph.’  The corona triumphalis is a gold coronet that is fashioned in the shape of a laurel wreath, with dangling gold ribbons. 

I noticed that there was another inscription on the chariot.  I asked about that and was told that the triumphator asked to be able to write another name on the chariot---the special name given to him by his father.  The writing was a bit odd.  I couldn’t make out the language in which it was written, and nobody else around me was able to read that particular language either.  I made a notation to ask about it, so perhaps I’ll be able to learn what it said at a later time.  Written above that, however, was his proper Roman name.  Everybody could read that name.  Apparently, Caesar has adopted him as his very own son and he is going to function as Caesar’s mouthpiece and royal emissary.  Truly incredible!   

As one would also expect, the triumphator was dressed splendidly.  Not only was he wearing the customary ‘tunica palmata,’ which is the tunic embroidered with palm leaves, but he also wore the ‘toga picta,’ which is the painted toga.  As is the custom, the toga was the royal purple and it had a border of embroidered gold.  The gold reflected brilliantly in the light, and it must have been catching a reflection, because the gold, from time to time, looked almost red.  Because the toga is the traditional dress of the ruler of Rome, it was an excellent reminder that this particular man has been chosen as Caesar’s royal emissary.  It’s difficult to get my mind around this.  From now on, he is going to speak for Caesar.  His words are to be taken as Caesar’s words.