Sometimes a single image is enough to change the way we see things forever. While most Christian imagery is familiar, repetitive, and perhaps even heartwarming, there are some images that can make us look again to understand Jesus’ story and scriptures in a completely new light. One such image is featured in Jerusalem outside the supposed ruins of the High Priest Caiaphas’ house. Upon visiting there over ten years ago, I am still haunted by the memory of one piece of art. Our guide pointed out a mosaic on the outside of the building. It showed Jesus, bound by rope at his hands and shoulders.

We noticed the tiny reference to Psalm 88 in the corner, and listened as he told us the significance of this mosaic. What came next has stuck with me, and each year on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, I remember this image that unlocked the scriptures to reveal more of Jesus’ story that previously remained untold.

We remember the scripture describing Jesus’ arrest in the garden. We remember Jesus standing for questioning before Caiaphas. While this takes place we see Peter denying Jesus three times before the cock crows. And then we hear no more, until Matthew’s Gospel gives us this…

“When morning came, all the chief priests and the elders of the people conferred together against Jesus in order to bring about his death. They bound him, led him away, and handed him over to Pilate the governor.” (Matthew 27:1-2)

When morning came. But what happened during the night? We’re so swept up in the story from the time of Jesus’ arrest until his trial, he’s passed back and forth between Caiaphas and Pilate, and then off to the crucifixion he goes. We know the death happened on a Friday but didn’t even notice when a new day began. So what happened that night?

While in Israel, we visited Caiaphas’ house. The High Priest had very large quarters, and it was thought that the trial was held in one of these sizeable rooms. As we entered the massive space, I looked up at the ceiling. Every surface was covered in stained glass windows and glittering tiled mosaics that sparkled in the sunlight. It was stunningly beautiful. Beautiful, and yet hauntingly tragic. Another mosaic depicted Jesus bound at the hands by rope, centered between the Sanhedrin, awaiting the verdict of the trial. Never before seeing Jesus bound by rope, I wondered why.

That’s when it hit us. They had to put Jesus somewhere that night. You can guarantee the members of the Sanhedrin weren’t going to lose a precious moment of sleep over who they assumed to be some common criminal. And so we learned of The Pit.

Underneath the house we were led to the dungeon, where holes in the stone showed evidence of how prisoners would’ve been bound by their hands and feet. But even this was not enough for someone as dangerous as Jesus. Instead we were shown a small hole, no more than three feet in diameter, leading down to the pit.

The pit consisted of a small area, perhaps 15×15 feet square, maybe 20 feet deep. No windows. No doors. No lights. The only way in or out was for a prisoner to be lowered by rope, tied around their shoulders and chest, lowering them in through the hole in the roof. Lowering them into the cold, empty darkness of the pit. Alone. Forgotten. This is where it is believed Jesus spent his last night before his death.

Outside in the courtyard, Peter was keeping watch, but also denying Christ three times before dawn. Above in the many luxurious rooms, Caiaphas and others slept soundly, not worrying a moment that they were about to condemn an innocent man to death. But there in the dark, no food, water, or earthly comfort, Jesus spent his last few hours alone. I suspect this night had to hurt more than the lashes and beatings that would come in the morning.

Since seeing those mosaics and the evidence of dungeons below, I can no longer see or hear the scriptures the same way. Remembering the mosaic reference to Psalm 88, we hear the words of the Psalmist that gave description to this image, and wonder if Jesus recited these words during that last dark night.

“O LORD, God of my salvation, when at night, I cry in your presence, let my prayer come before you; incline your ear to my cry. For my soul is full of troubles, and my life draws near to Sheol. I am counted among those who go down to the Pit; I am like those who have no help, like those forsaken among the dead, like the slain that lie in the grave, like those whom you remember no more, for they are cut off from your land.

You have put me in the depths of the Pit, in the regions dark and deep. Your wrath lies heavy upon me, and you overwhelm me with all your waves. You have caused my companions to shun me; you have made me a thing of horror to them. I am shut in so that I cannot escape; my eye grows dim through sorrow.

Every day I call on you, O LORD; I spread out my hands to you. Do you work wonders for the dead? Do the Shades rise up to praise you? Is your steadfast love declared in the grave, or your faithfulness in Abaddon? Are your wonders known in the darkness, or your saving help in the land of forgetfulness? But I, O LORD, cry out to you; in the morning my prayer comes before you. O LORD, why do you cast me off? Why do you hide your face from me? Wretched and close to death from my youth up, I suffer terrors; I am desperate. Your wrath has swept over me; your dread assaults destroy me. They surround me like a flood all day long; from all sides they close in on me. You have caused friend and neighbor to shun me; my companions are in darkness.” Psalm 88