By Jeff Treder
One thing that was going on throughout Jesus’ time on earth was contention with demonic forces. From the flight into Egypt to avoid Herod’s paranoid brutality, to the temptation in the wilderness, to all-night prayer vigils, to casting demons out of people, to Gethsemane and Calvary, the struggle against Satanic evil was a constant in Jesus’ life. It was, after all, the center of his purpose in coming to earth, to free humanity from our bondage to sin. We are used to seeing the great rescue mission from our own point of view, that of the captives being delivered. Sometimes we try to imagine what it might have been like for the Father, watching his beloved Son suffer through humiliation, torture, and grisly death. But what did the whole thing look like from the Satanic point of view? Maybe something like this:
The Satanic High Council knew the prophecies as well as anyone, and so they were on high alert status as the time for Messiah’s appearance drew near. They had covered every plausible contingency, and so it cannot be held against them that their implacable adversary chose a wholly implausible way for Messiah to enter the stage of human history. It was, indeed, the sneakiest and most undignified plan ever concocted, to have him who is supposedly King of kings be born to common peasants in a smelly barn. The whole thing smelled to low hades like a false alarm.
If this chicanery took the High Council by surprise, however, they were quick to take advantage of it and seize the high ground. With their customary vigilance, they had installed one of their own as king in Judea—under the Romans, to be sure, but Rome was under their sway as well. So Herod promptly ordered the slaughter of all male infants. Unfortunately, the peasant parents somehow caught wind of this and spirited the infant Jesus away to Egypt. But the very fact that they were already reduced to such desperate measures must have made it obvious to them that their clever scheme was doomed from the outset.
Some time later, when the peasant couple thought it might be safe again, they snuck back home to their village of Nazareth. This time the High Council was fully aware of their every move, and deliberated carefully what the wisest course would be. It quickly became apparent that the foolish peasants were playing right into their hands, dragging this would-be Messiah off to a dusty hole like Nazareth. It wasn’t even on the map! There were smiles all around the Council.
Years passed, then decades. Events, or the lack of them, had clearly demonstrated the High Council’s wisdom. Yet they were wise enough not to let success lull them into complacency. Their spies in Nazareth filed regular reports, though in truth these were dull enough. Jesus was a sickeningly good boy, cheerful and dutiful and hardworking in the carpentry shop. The spies were bored and disgusted. But the High Council was satisfied. A goody-goody peasant laborer was hardly a threat to Caesar. As Messiah material, definitely a non-starter.
Around thirty years after the baby-born-in-barn fiasco, a humorless rabble-rouser named John started raising a ruckus, calling on the people to repent because the kingdom of God was near at hand and the long-awaited Messiah was about to be revealed. The High Council kept a close eye on this scruffy blowhard, but were not much concerned. Although he attracted quite a following, most of them were no-account riffraff just like him.
But then, right out of the blue, he pointed to Jesus, that ill-bred, uneducated nobody from nowhere, and hailed him as the true Messiah! This time the High Council was right on top of things and quickly sized up the situation: one shabby non-prophet plus one pathetic non-Messiah adds up to zero. As John was baptizing Jesus, however, another bolt from the blue! A voice rang out from the heavens, declaring: “This is my beloved Son!” And out of heights beyond seeing, a white dove circled down and settled on the dripping carpenter from Nazareth.
At the sound of that voice, a wave of panic and dread swept through the Council, but they rallied valiantly and didn’t let it show. Was it possible? If so, it meant that the Unmentionable One was up to something very strange indeed. But as they studied this odd turn of events, they soon realized that nothing really had changed—or if it had, the change was in their favor. Their adversary had tipped his hand and showed it was a loser. The only reason the Council hadn’t foreseen this strategy was that it was such a no-brainer. And now the Unmentionable One was committed to it!
Naturally the High Council surrounded Jesus with spies from this point on. His first move was totally pointless: He wandered out into the desert—alone, exposed, defenseless. Such a juicy opportunity demanded a maximum counterstroke, and so Satan himself, the All-Wise and Magnificently Exalted Grand Imperial Potentate and Supreme Leader of the High Council, announced that he would handle it in person. For several weeks he toyed with Jesus—the poor dope hadn’t even thought to bring along any food or water! Employing all the cleverest temptations, he twisted him around every finger on both claws. Even though Jesus turned out to be obstinate and ornery beyond belief, Satan was able to report back to the Council that they had definitely sent this ragtag Messiah a message.
Jesus’ next move confirmed this. Undoubtedly shaken by his close brush with catastrophe, he shied away from the cities and made no attempt to recruit supporters among people of power and influence. He gathered around himself a group of mostly illiterate losers just like himself and began teaching them a lot of absurd notions about turning the other cheek and giving away your flea-bitten clothing. The High Council was well satisfied with this. Wisely taking no chances, however, they sent their agents out on thousands of missions with the task of prejudicing the religious leadership against Jesus. This turned out to be even easier than they thought. And, in a brilliant coup, they even managed to infiltrate an agent of their own into his inner circle—and the fools gave this two-timer charge over their money!
Not everything went so easily for the High Council, though. In spite of all the infernal battalions opposing him, Jesus allegedly performed many impressive miracles and was able to attract crowds by the thousands. But the miracles were mostly witnessed only by the worthless rabble, and who cared how many of them he impressed? All in all, the Council was pleased with the success of their strategy of forcing the Unmentionable One’s openly heralded Messiah over into the margins of society, where he could pose no real threat to their establishment.
After a while, however, they grew tired of this one-sided game and decided to end it. They would show, once for all, the folly of their adversary’s strategy, and they would swat his pitiful Messiah like a fly.
So they jerked Judas’s chain and he betrayed Jesus to the Jewish authorities. The upstart carpenter was arrested, roughed up, taunted, and interrogated through the night, and that was just for warmups. In the morning they turned the soldiers loose to whip him with studded thongs until his shoulders and back were shredded and bloody. Then they forced a wreath woven from thorns down onto his head so the thorns dug into his scalp.
They led him before the Roman governor, who wondered why these demented Jews bothered him with such a paltry criminal. Jesus said little in response to the charges beyond mentioning to his captors that legions of heavenly warriors stood ready to rescue him, if once given the word. This shook the High Council momentarily, until they saw that no such thing was happening, and realized he was bluffing!
Then they licked their lips and got down to the real business. Jesus was condemned to be crucified, a method of torture designed to maximize suffering and degradation, reserved for slaves and the vilest criminals. The mob was whipped up into a frenzy of blood lust. The soldiers made Jesus drag his own cross up to Calvary hill, then threw him down on it and started hammering the spikes through his hands and feet.
At this point, something utterly new, utterly mysterious, began to happen. With each blow of the hammer, the High Council’s authority over the earth was shaken, and as it was shaken it began to slip and loosen. The soldier wielding the hammer, of course, knew nothing of this. The Council members themselves might have noticed it—and if they had, they would certainly have declared a major emergency. But by this time they were too entranced and intoxicated with their orgy of vengeance.
Jesus was lifted up on the cross between two condemned thieves. For this spectacle, the Council had summoned all the demonic armies to bear witness, and now thousands upon thousands of them screamed themselves hoarse. Long had they waited and struggled and fought for this day of triumph, and now at last, almost unbelievably, it had come. And so they gazed on his naked, bleeding body, and gloated every time he gasped in agony for breath. Stormy darkness enveloped the land at midday, but the demonic hordes and their triumphant leaders only celebrated more wildly.
Then Jesus whispered to his Father, asking forgiveness for his torturers. The chains of demonic power over the earth were breaking and falling away everywhere, but no one noticed. Finally Jesus cried out, “It is finished!” and yielded up his spirit. A mighty roar of victory rose from the delirious host of hell, and they went on and on celebrating their withered little hearts out.
It was, in fact, several more days before the awful truth dawned on Satan and his gang, that they were actually celebrating Jesus’ victory, which meant their own defeat and destruction and doom. And now it was forever too late to do anything about it.
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