The Scribe: Silas

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The Scribe: Silas Page 11

by Francine Rivers


  “I’ll go with you,” Timothy said, packed and ready.

  “You will stay here with Luke.” Paul remained adamant despite Timothy’s plea. “We will meet later.” I knew Paul feared for the boy and did not want to put him in danger, and he entrusted him to Luke.

  We left under cover of darkness and headed for Berea. We went straight to the synagogue there. I expected more trouble, but we found the Berean Jews open-minded and open of heart. They listened and then examined the Scriptures to see if what we said was true. The body of Christ grew rapidly in Berea as Jews and prominent Greeks, both men and women, embraced Christ.

  Luke and Timothy arrived, eager to help. On their heels came some of the Thessalonican Jewish leaders, who had taken such offense to our teaching. They intended to destroy the church. “You must head south,” the Berean believers told us.

  Paul did not want to leave. “We cannot abandon these lambs, Silas.”

  I feared for his life. Luke and Timothy joined in my efforts to persuade him, but Paul protested. “It is stubbornness and pride that brings these Thessalonicans after me again. I will not give in to them.”

  “Is that not pride speaking, Paul?” Harsh words, I knew, but sometimes that was the only way to get through to Paul. “Do not give sin an opportunity. If we leave, they will disperse, thinking this flock cannot survive without a shepherd.”

  “Will they?”

  “The seed has taken root in them, Paul. They know the truth and the truth has set them free. The Holy Spirit and the Scriptures will guide them. We must go for their sake as well as yours.”

  The more difficult parting took place at the coast. We had only enough money for two passages to Athens. “You’ve been ill. Luke must go with you.”

  “You know the respect and love I have for Luke, Silas, but I chose you.”

  “The wound on your back continues to fester. You need a physician more than a coworker.”

  “I’ll be fine!”

  “Yes, you will, with the proper care God wants you to have.”

  “But—”

  I lost patience. “Don’t argue! Why must you always argue, even with those who believe as you do! Now, bridle your tongue, and get on that boat!”

  He laughed. I was immediately ashamed at my loss of temper. “There are other lost sheep, Paul. Think of them. And don’t forget God called you to be His chosen instrument to bear His name before the Gentiles and kings and people of Israel. You cannot remain here and let them kill you. Kings, Paul! That’s what the Lord told Ananias! Perhaps one day you’ll speak before Caesar, and God willing, the emperor will listen. You must go now. God wants it so!”

  He wept.

  I embraced him. “You are by far the more persuasive preacher among us.” I did not speak from flattery. When I drew back, I gripped his arms. “Your life must not end here.”

  “What of you and Timothy?”

  “We’ll go back to Berea and live quietly. We will teach and encourage our brothers and sisters and join you later.”

  Paul embraced Timothy. The boy wept.

  “Come, Paul!” Luke said. “We must go!”

  I held firm to Timothy’s shoulder as the two men boarded the ship. “God will watch over him, Timothy. We’ll stay until they leave the harbor. Just in case our good friend decides to jump ship.”

  Timothy gave a broken laugh. “He might. He worries about me.”

  “You must learn to stand without him, Timothy. He is called to spread the Good News. Others are called to remain behind and teach.”

  He looked up at me. “Not yet.”

  “Soon.” God had told me so.

  Life would never be easy for Paul.

  Nor for anyone who traveled with him.

  While we waited for word from Paul and Luke, Timothy and I found work to support ourselves and met with believers each evening. I taught; Timothy encouraged.

  We received frequent letters from Paul and Luke about their progress in Athens. Our friend had not gone into hiding.

  “I spoke in the synagogues, but the Athenian Jews have hearts of stone. I now preach in the public square, where people are more willing to listen.”

  But Athens grieved his spirit.

  “I cannot turn right or left without coming face-to-face with an idol that promotes debauchery and licentious behavior. The people flock to these gods.”

  He met a few Epicurean and Stoic philosophers in the marketplace.

  “Athenians crave new ideas, and the message of Christ intrigues them. They invited me to speak on the Areopagus before the council. I went, praying the Lord would give me the words to reach the hearts of these people. God answered my prayer when I saw an altar with the inscription, ‘To an Unknown God.’ Jesus is the Unknown God. All but a few thought me a babbler proclaiming a strange deity. They laughed when I told them of Jesus’ resurrection. Yet, a few are saved. You will meet Dionysius when you come. He is a member of the council. Another believer is Damaris, a woman of good reputation. We hold meetings in Dionysius’s house daily. He lives near the Areopagus.”

  The next letter came from Luke.

  “We have moved south to Corinth.”

  He did not say why, but I imagine Paul was driven out of town again, either by the Jews or members of the council.

  “We met two Jews expelled from Italy by Emperor Claudius’s edict. Priscilla and Aquila are tentmakers and have invited Paul to join in their business. I am staying with them as well. Paul is exhausted, but I cannot stop him from working. When he isn’t sewing hides together, he is in the synagogue debating with the Jews and Greeks. He needs help. I am a doctor, not an orator. Come as soon as you can. We have great need of both you and Timothy.”

  I had earned barely enough for my passage, but when the Bereans heard of Paul’s need, they raised funds to pay for Timothy’s passage. Timothy wrote a beautiful statement of faith to encourage them. “If we die with Him, we will also live with Him. If we endure hardship, we will reign with Him. If we deny Him, He will deny us. If we are unfaithful, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny who He is.” I made a copy to give to Paul.

  Later, Paul used these same words to encourage Timothy when he was shepherd to the flock in Ephesus, a place of such evil practices we all thought it the throne of Satan himself.

  Timothy’s words encourage me now.

  We all must face persecution because of the evil that grips this world. Yet, Jesus Christ is Lord! I know this: our future is secure! I know this, too: Christ reigns in our hearts, minds, souls. Our lives are living testimonies of the truth of Jesus Christ, crucified, buried, and raised.

  One day, Jesus will return, and the days of tribulation will be over.

  Come, Lord Jesus. Come soon.

  “Can you not rest awhile, Silas?”

  His heart leaped at the sound of Diana’s voice. He turned and saw her in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

  “Epanetus sent me.” She looked embarrassed. “I don’t know why he thought I might be able to get you to leave this room.”

  “Is Curiatus with you?”

  “He’s in the garden.”

  Silas put the reed pen in its case and rose.

  “Are you in pain?” She came a step closer.

  He held up his hand. “No. I get stiff from sitting so long.”

  “Sitting too long isn’t good for anyone, Silas.”

  The caring in her voice made his heart drum. He sought a way to build walls. “I’m old.”

  “You are no older than my husband would have been had he lived.”

  He looked at her then. There had been no wistfulness in her voice, no sorrow. “How long ago did he die?”

  “Five years.”

  They looked at each other for a long moment, silent. She gave a soft gasp. He felt the heat climb into his face. “I’m sorry,” he said roughly.

  She held his gaze.

  He swallowed hard and avoided her gaze. “We should join the others.”

  It was an easy voyage
to Athens, though I, not being much of a sailor, spent most of it with my head over the gunwales.

  We met Priscilla and Aquila and liked them immediately. They had accepted Christ within hours of meeting Paul in the synagogue. “Paul is very persuasive.” They proved good friends to their mentor.

  Luke returned to writing his history and giving care to those in need, especially Paul, who suffered chronic pain. The beatings had taken a toll on his body, and his vision was impaired. He could no longer write, except in large letters. “I need a secretary now more than ever,” he told me. I was honored to serve in that capacity.

  Timothy quickly found work in Corinth, as did I. We made enough to support ourselves and Paul. This proved a great blessing, for Paul was able to dedicate himself to preaching. We assisted him by instructing those who accepted Christ.

  Letters arrived from Thessalonica, filled with attacks against Paul’s integrity and the message we preached. Several beloved brothers had been killed for their faith in Christ, and their friends and relatives now questioned Paul’s teachings. They had expected the Lord to come before anyone died. A few took advantage of the confusion, and proclaimed Paul a liar who preached only for profit.

  I had never seen Paul so hurt by accusations. How he grieved! I was more angry than Paul. Who taught with more risk to their lives than Paul? No one!

  Tears streamed down his cheeks. “Such is the work of Satan!”

  I felt defeated. All our work! All our prayers! The converts forgot all the sound teaching and listened to lies!

  “We must go back and confront these false teachers before they turn our brothers and sisters away from Christ!”

  I felt like flotsam, moving back and forth on the tide. If Paul wanted to go, I would go. If Paul wanted to stay, I would stay. I had come on this journey to stand beside him no matter the risk. If left to myself, I might have gotten on the first ship sailing for Caesarea!

  We made it as far as Athens and had to wait. Paul fell ill again. I cared for him as best I could, but he needed a doctor. “I’m sending for Luke.”

  “No!” Paul lay pale, but vehement as ever in his opinions. “I will be all right in a few days. Luke is needed where he is. God can heal me, if He wills. And if not, then this is a burden I must carry.”

  As soon as Paul was well enough, we set out again, only to be attacked near the port and stripped of our passage money. Damaris helped us, but one thing after another happened to keep us from going north. “Perhaps it is the Lord keeping us here, Paul,” I pointed out.

  Paul, still not fully well, grew impatient. “It is Satan who delays us! We can’t wait any longer! Someone must go to Thessalonica and tell our brothers and sisters the truth before their faith is murdered by lies.”

  Timothy said he would go. We laid hands on him, blessed him, and sent him off, eager to defend Paul and explain more fully Jesus’ promise to return. I admit I feared the young man’s natural reserve might keep him from being effective. Paul worried he might be killed. We both prayed unceasingly.

  It was not an easy time for us.

  Paul’s health grew worse, and he fell into a deep depression. “I’m afraid all we’ve worked so hard to accomplish is lost.”

  We could do nothing but pray and trust in the Lord. The waiting proved a greater test of our faith than floggings and imprisonment!

  But God was faithful!

  Timothy returned zealous and with good reports. Rejoicing, we three returned to Corinth, renewed in faith and strength. Our good spirits dampened again though when, after a few weeks, the Corinthian Jews refused to believe a word Paul or I said. No matter how much proof we showed from the Scriptures, they hardened their hearts against Jesus. The last time Paul entered the synagogue, the gathering storm burst forth and some who despised Paul insulted and blasphemed Jesus to his face.

  “Your blood is upon your own heads!” Paul cried out and left the synagogue. He stood outside, shaking his robes in protest. “I shake the dust of this place from me!” He raised his arm. “You and you and you.” He pointed to specific men. “I am innocent. Let your blood be on your own heads, for you have rejected the Lord God. From now on, I will go preach to the Gentiles!”

  The neighborhood remained in an uproar that day and for days following.

  Paul might say he consigned them to God’s wrath, but in truth the man refused to give up hope. I laugh now, for he moved in with Titius Justus, a Gentile believer. Titius lived right next door to the synagogue!

  Not a day went by that the Jews did not see Paul receiving visitors. Crispus, one of their leaders, came to reason with Paul. Away from the sway and jealousy of the others, he received Christ. Soon, Crispus brought his entire family to hear about Jesus. Our enemies ground their teeth and muttered at those who came. Jews and Gentiles under one roof, breaking bread together? The Christ of God for all men? The hard-hearted refused to believe.

  Paul received constant threats, and, as his friends, so did Timothy and I and others. But the attacks were far worse upon him. He became afraid. I am convinced that his fear rose from exhaustion. He worked constantly, from before dawn to long after dark. Even a man of his amazing stamina needs to rest. I certainly did. But Paul felt compelled to preach, compelled to answer every question with proof, compelled to pour himself out like a liquid offering. When he was not preaching, he studied the scrolls we carried, preparing for the next battle. He dictated letters far into the night.

  A tired man is more easily shaken.

  “I’m afraid,” he confessed to me one night. “It’s one thing for people to attack me, but my friends . . .” His eyes filled with tears. “I’m afraid of what my enemies will do next, Silas, who they might harm because of what I say.” I knew he feared for Timothy, and not without cause. But Timothy was as on fire for Christ as he. The young man had given his life as a living sacrifice for the Lord.

  “You must do whatever the Lord tells you to do, Paul. If the Lord says speak, you already know you have Timothy’s blessing. And mine as well.”

  Titius Justus wondered if Paul should press on. “He has good reason to be afraid, Silas.” Titius told me Paul received threats every time he left the house. The day before, the Judaizers had cornered Paul in the marketplace, and said they would kill him if he continued. When I confronted Paul about this, he said it was true.

  “Perhaps we should move on again. We have planted the seeds. God will water and make them grow.”

  Paul smiled bleakly. “It will be the same anywhere I go, Silas. You know that as well as I.”

  Trouble followed Paul in the same way trouble had followed Jesus.

  How many times had I seen the Good News greeted with anger and scorn? Most people don’t want to hear the truth, let alone embrace it. To accept Christ’s gift means admitting that everything on which we based our lives before has gained us nothing. It means surrendering to a power greater than ourselves. Few want to surrender to anything but their lusts. We cling to our vanity and go on striving to find our own way when there is only one way.

  I praised God every time I saw truth dawn in someone’s eyes, the veil of Satan’s lies dissolved, a heart of stone beating with new life. The new believer stood on a mountaintop looking out at the vast hope laid wide open before them, an eternal, lifelong journey with the Lord. They became a living, breathing temple in which God dwelled. The rebirth was a miracle as great as Jesus’ feeding thousands on a few loaves of bread and fish, because it was evidence He lived; His promises continued to be fulfilled daily.

  But fear sets in so easily.

  We decided to be cautious. We thought it wise, but, in truth, Paul was silenced, and so was I. We had forgotten we must step out in faith, not sit and wait for it to grow in shadows.

  By the grace of God, Jesus spoke to Paul in a vision. “Don’t be afraid! Speak out!” Jesus said many people in the city already belonged to Him. All we had to do was go out and find them!

  We obeyed. With such great encouragement, how could we not?
/>   We set out, faith renewed, zeal restored.

  For eighteen months.

  And then a new governor came to Achaia, and everything changed again.

  Soon after Gallio took office, the Jews rose up against Paul, took him to the judgment seat and accused him of teaching men to worship God in ways contrary to Roman law. But Gallio was not like Pontius Pilate, easily swayed by a mob. Paul did not even say a word in his own defense before Gallio ended the session.

  “Since this is merely a question of words and names and your Jewish law, take care of it yourselves. I refuse to judge such matters.” With a jerk of his head, guards moved and drove the Jews away from the judgment seat.

  Greeks grabbed hold of Sosthenes, the leader of the synagogue, and began beating him. Gallio continued to conduct business and ignore the fracas. A Gentile punched Sosthenes, knocked him down, and kicked him right there before the judgment seat.

  Paul tried to push through. “Stop!” Unwittingly, he used Aramaic.

  I cried out in Greek and then Latin. They withdrew, leaving Sosthenes half conscious and bleeding on the stone pavement. The rabbi’s friends were nowhere to be seen. He shrank back from us in fear, though we only wanted to help him.

  “Let us help you!”

  “Why do you do this for me?” Sosthenes rasped. “You, of all people . . .”

  “Because Jesus would do it,” Paul said, straining to help lift him.

  Sosthenes stumbled, but we kept him from falling. He wept all the way to Priscilla and Aquila’s. Luke dressed his wounds. We sent word to the synagogue, but none came for him. They would not enter the house of a Gentile.

  When Sosthenes became feverish, we took turns caring for him. We told him about Jesus. “He made the blind see, and the deaf hear. He raised a widow’s son and called a friend from the tomb in which he had lain for four days.”

  I told him of Jesus’ trial before Pontius Pilate, of how He died on the cross on Passover, and three days later, arose. I told him of my life in Jerusalem and Caesarea and how it changed on the road to Emmaus. Paul told him of seeing Jesus on the road to Damascus.

 

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