The Scribe: Silas

by Francine Rivers

  “He’s still asleep.” Macombo spoke in a hushed voice.

  “The sun is barely up.” Epanetus spoke from farther away. “Why are you here so early?”

  “Silas is leaving.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Mother told me. She said she dreamed he was on a ship and he was sailing away.”

  Silas heard the anguish in the boy’s voice and rose from his bed. “I’m here, Curiatus. I haven’t gone anywhere.” Yet. “It was just a dream.” And it had touched some chord inside him and made him tremble.

  The boy came to him. “When are you going?”

  He looked at Epanetus and Macombo, and down into Curiatus’s distressed eyes. “Soon.”

  “How soon?”

  “In three days,” Epanetus said and looked sternly at Silas. “No sooner than that.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  Epanetus stepped forward. “Is that the way you ask—?”

  Silas raised his hand. “I don’t know where I’m going, Curiatus.”

  “You’ll go where God sends you, and I want to go along! Please, Silas, take me with you! Teach me as you and Paul taught Timothy! Circumcise me if you have to! I want to serve the Lord!”

  Silas felt his throat tighten. The thought of going out alone was what had held him back so long, but should he take this boy with him? “Timothy was older than you when he left his mother and grandmother.”

  “A year makes no difference.”

  “A year made a great deal of difference to John Mark.”

  “I’m old enough to know when God is calling me!”

  Silas smiled ruefully. “And how can one argue with that?” Could he take the word of a passionate boy?

  Curiatus looked crestfallen. “You don’t believe me.”

  David had been anointed as king when he was just a boy. Silas put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I need to pray about it, Curiatus. I can’t say one way or the other until I know what God wants.”

  “He’s told you to go.”

  “Yes, but not where.”

  “He sent disciples out two by two. You went with Paul. You went with Peter. Let me go with you!”

  “And what about your mother, Curiatus. Who will take care of her?”

  “Timothy had a mother. She let him go!”

  There was no use arguing with the boy. “If God has called you to come with me, Curiatus, He will confirm it by telling me.” What would Diana say about giving up her son when she might never see him again?

  Curiatus stepped closer. “I know God will tell you. I know He will.”

  “Can we go back to bed now?” Epanetus spoke drily. “At least until the sun comes up?”

  Silas fasted all day, but had no answer. He fasted a second day and prayed.

  Epanetus found him sitting in the back of the garden. “Curiatus came again. Do you have an answer for him yet?”

  “God’s been silent on the matter.”

  “Maybe that means you can decide either way, though there seems no doubt in Curiatus’s mind what God wants him to do.”

  “John Mark went out too soon.”

  “Timothy was younger and never looked back.”

  “I thought everything was settled.”

  “Ah yes; just pick up your pack of scrolls and walk away.”

  Silas cast him a dark look. Why did the Roman take such perverse pleasure in taunting him?

  Epanetus grinned. “I suppose the decision is even harder when you can’t have one without the other.”

  Silas glared at him, heart pounding. “That’s the answer, then.” He felt a check in his spirit, but ignored it. “If the boy isn’t ready to leave his mother, I dare not take him with me.”

  Epanetus groaned in annoyance. “That’s not what I said. And even if it was, there is a solution! You could—”

  Silas stood abruptly. “I don’t know where God will lead me, or whether I will ever come back this way again.” He stepped past Epanetus and headed for the house. “When I leave, I will go alone.” Why did he feel no relief in saying it?

  “You’re running scared again!” Epanetus called after him.

  Silas kept walking.

  Epanetus shouted this time. “Take Diana with you!”

  Heat poured into Silas’s face. He turned. “Lower your voice.”

  “Ah, that imperious tone. I’ve heard it often from Roman nobles. I wanted you to hear!”

  “I can’t take a woman! Her reputation would be ruined and my testimony meaningless!”

  Epanetus snorted. “I’m not suggesting you make her your concubine. Marry her!”

  Silas thought of Peter bound and helpless, crying out to his wife as Nero’s soldiers tortured her, “Remember the Lord! Remember the Lord!”

  Silas’s throat tightened in anguish. “God forgive you for suggesting it!” His voice broke.

  Epanetus’s face filled with compassion. “Silas, I’ve seen the way you look at her, and the way she looks—”

  “I’d rather kill myself now than see a woman I love tortured and martyred in front of me.”

  “I see,” he said slowly. “But I ask you: all the while you’ve fasted and prayed, were you asking God what He wants you to do next, or pleading with Him to agree with what you’ve already decided?”

  When Silas told Curiatus of his decision, the boy wept. “I’m sorry.” Silas could barely get the words out for the dryness of his throat. “Maybe in a few years . . .”

  “You’ll leave Italy and never return.”

  “It’s best if I go alone.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “You’re not a man, Curiatus.”

  “I’m as much a man as Timothy was when you took him with you.”

  “That was different.”

  “How was it different?”

  Silas begged God for a way to explain, but no words came. Curiatus waited, eyes pleading. Silas spread his hands, unable to say anything more.

  The boy searched his face. “You just don’t want me to go with you. That’s it, isn’t it?”

  Silas couldn’t look into his eyes anymore. Curiatus stood up slowly and walked away, shoulders hunched.

  Silas covered his face.

  Epanetus’s voice rumbled low, indistinct words, but the tone was clear. He comforted the boy. Silas expected his host to come into the triclinium and admonish him. Instead, he was left alone.

  Silas read to the gathering that evening—Peter’s letters to the five provinces. Diana and Curiatus didn’t come. Silas was almost thankful. He said his good-byes to the people and tried not to think about the boy and his mother. He was given a love offering to carry him on his way. His brothers and sisters wept as they laid hands on him and prayed God would bless and protect him wherever he went. He wept, too, but for reasons he did not want to think about too deeply.

  “We will pray for you every day, Silas.”

  He knew they would keep their promise.

  Early the next morning, he rose with the certainty of how he would travel, if not where. He dreamed the Lord beckoned him to a ship. He donned the new tunic Epanetus had given him. He wound the sash and tucked the pouch of denarii into it. He pinned the silver ring and knotted the leather straps that held the case containing his reed pens and knife for making corrections and cutting papyrus. Then he tied on the inkhorn. He took the coat Paul had given him and put it on, then shouldered the pack of scrolls.

  Epanetus waited for him in the courtyard. “Do you have all you need for your journey?”

  “Yes. Thank you. I’ve traveled with far less. You and the others have been more than generous.”

  “It has been an honor having you here, Silas.”

  He clasped Epanetus’s arm. “An honor to me as well.”

  “Are you taking the road north to Rome or going down to the sea?”

  “The sea.”

  Epanetus smiled strangely. “In that case, I’ll walk with you.”

  They left the house and headed down the
winding streets. The agora bustled with people. Urbanus gave a nod as they passed. When they came to the port, Silas looked from young man to young man.

  “Are you looking for someone?” Epanetus said.

  “Curiatus. I had hoped to say good-bye.”

  “They’re over there.”

  Silas turned, and his heart leaped into his throat. Diana and Curiatus walked toward him, each carrying a bundle. He greeted them. “I’m glad to see you. I missed you last night.”

  Diana set her bundle down. “We had to make arrangements.”

  Arrangements?

  Curiatus looked at the docks. “So which ship are we taking?”

  Silas stared. “What?”

  Laughing, Epanetus grasped the boy by the shoulder. “Come with me, my boy. We’ll see which ship has room for extra passengers.”

  Silas looked from them to Diana. “He can’t go with me.”

  “We must.”

  We?

  She looked up at him gravely. “Silas, we prayed all night that the Lord would make it clear to us what we should do. Everyone in the church has been praying for us. You know the heart of my son. So we laid out the situation before the Lord. If you took the road north, you were to go alone. If you came to the port, we were to leave with you.” She smiled, eyes glowing. “And here you are.”

  He struggled not to cry. “I can’t take you with me, Diana. I can’t.”

  “Because you fear harm would come to me. I know. Epanetus told me.”

  “You don’t know.”

  “My body may be broken, my life taken, but I will never be harmed, Silas. Nor will Curiatus. Besides, don’t the Scriptures say three together are stronger than one alone? The Lord will not give us more than we can bear, and we have heaven to receive us. And He will be with us wherever we go.”

  “Think how it will look to others, Diana, a man traveling with a woman. You know what people will think. How can I teach holy living if we appear to be . . .” He glanced away. “You know what I mean.”

  She nodded. “Living in sin?”

  “Yes. So, it’s settled.”

  Her eyes grew soft. “Yes. Of course it is. We must marry.”

  He blushed. “You should stay here and marry a younger man.”

  “Why would I want to do that when it’s you I love?” She stepped close, reached up, and cupped his face. “Silas, I knew when I first saw you that I wanted to be your wife. And when Curiatus became so determined to have you take him with you, it merely served to confirm what I’ve come to believe: God directed your steps. The Lord brought you here, not just to rest, but to find the family He prepared for you.” Her eyes glistened. “We’ve been waiting such a long time.”

  His heart pounded. “I couldn’t bear to see you hurt.”

  “If you leave us behind, you will break our hearts.”

  “That’s unfair!”

  “Is it? It was the Lord who said a man is not meant to be alone. All these years, you’ve dedicated your life to helping others—Paul, Peter, Timothy, John Mark, the churches you’ve served. And now, God offers you a family of your own, something I know you’ve missed, something I know you want.” She looked up, her heart in her eyes. “It is the Lord who pours down blessings upon those who love Him, Silas. You have taught that. You know it’s true.”

  And like grace, this was a free gift he had only to receive.

  “Diana . . .” He leaned down and kissed her. Her arms came around him, sliding up his back. He stepped closer and took her firmly in his arms. She fit him perfectly.

  “And the Lord gave sight to the blind!” Epanetus said.

  Silas drew back, but he couldn’t take his eyes from Diana’s face flushed with pleasure, her eyes bright with joy. He had never seen anyone more beautiful. He took her hand and smiled at Epanetus. “Indeed, He did.” And I thank You for it, Lord.

  Epanetus stood arms akimbo. “As you told me, Silas—‘You can make many plans, but the Lord’s purpose will prevail.’” He winked at Diana.

  The joyful sound of her laughter made Silas catch his breath. Gratitude rose up inside him like a spring of living water. She loved him! She really loved him! I never thought to have this blessing, Lord. Never, in all my life.

  Curiatus shouted from down the quay and ran toward them. Out of breath, he reached them. He looked at Silas’s hand clasping his mother’s, and his face lit up. He pointed back. “There’s room on that ship.”

  Epanetus clapped the boy on the back. “There’ll be another ship, another day. First we have a wedding to arrange.”

  The wind filled the sails, and the boat surged through the Mediterranean waters. As the bow dipped, a wave splashed up, a salty mist spraying the deck, a welcome coolness in the heat of the afternoon sun.

  Silas talked to several crew members and then came to Diana. He leaned on the rail beside her. She smiled at him. “Where’s Curiatus?”

  “Helping one of the sailors move some cargo.”

  She looked out again, her expression rapt with pleasure. “I’ve never seen such blues and greens.” She had the wonder of a child. She leaned against his shoulder. “I’ve never been more happy, Silas. Wherever it is we’re going, I know God is the wind in the sails.”

  “We sail to Corsica,” he said. “And then on from there to Iberia.”

  She glanced up at him in surprise. “Iberia?”

  He saw no fear in her eyes. “Yes.”

  Paul had begun making plans soon after he arrived in Rome. “Peter is here,” Paul had said, restless in confinement, “and so are you. We will have a church established in Rome and the work will go on. If Caesar hears my case and dismisses the charges against me, I will go to Spain. I must go, Silas! No one has gone there yet. We must reach everyone.”

  We.

  Even under house arrest, Paul had continued the work God had given him. He had continued to dream and plan.

  “We have brothers and sisters of strong faith to carry on here, Silas! But there are others who have yet to hear the Good News of Jesus Christ. Someday I will go, God willing, and if not I, the Lord will send someone else who can preach and teach. . . .”

  Silas clasped his hands loosely on the rail. The sky was an expanse of blue and white.

  Up there perhaps was a crowd of witnesses watching him, praying for him, cheering him on. Paul, Peter, all the friends he had known and loved.

  And Jesus watched, too. Go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.

  Epanetus and the others would pray. “Yes, Lord.” Spain first, and then on from there, God willing. He and Diana would keep on going as long as body and breath allowed.

  Curiatus shouted, and Silas looked up. The boy climbed the mast.

  Diana laughed. “He’s seeing what’s ahead.”

  When body and breath failed Silas, another would be ready to carry on.

  The Word of Truth would be spoken. The Light would continue to shine.

  And God would lead His flock through the gates of heaven.

  Seek and Find

  Dear Reader,

  You have just finished reading the story of Silas, scribe to the early church and traveling companion of Paul and Peter, as told by Francine Rivers. As always, it is Francine’s desire for you, the reader, to delve into God’s Word for yourself to find out the real story—to discover what God has to say to us today and to find applications that will change our lives to suit His purposes for eternity.

  Though we are told little in Scripture about Silas’s personal life, we do find evidence of a very committed man. He was a prominent church leader and a gifted prophet who chose to set aside what the world would view as a very promising career. He willingly became a scribe, or secretary, recording the letters of the apostles Paul and Peter.

  It is interesting to note that while three of the Gospels record the story of the rich young ruler, only the Gospel of Luke refers to him as a rich religious leader. The account of the two follower
s of Jesus on the road to Emmaus is also found only in the Gospel of Luke. Silas was a religious leader and a travel companion of Luke. So the conjectures in this story—equating Silas with both the rich young ruler and the companion of Cleopas on the road to Emmaus—certainly aren’t impossible.

  Whatever the specifics of his life, we do know that Silas shed his earthly trappings of position and power in order to walk with the Lord. His life echoes that of another writer, the Author and Finisher of our faith, the Living Word, Jesus. May God bless you and help you to discover His call on your life. May you discover a heart of obedience beating within you.

  Peggy Lynch

  Chosen

  SEEK GOD’S WORD FOR TRUTH

  Read the following passage:

  When they arrived in Jerusalem, Barnabas and Paul were welcomed by the whole church, including the apostles and elders. They reported everything God had done through them. But then some of the believers who belonged to the sect of the Pharisees stood up and insisted, “The Gentile converts must be circumcised and required to follow the law of Moses.”

  So the apostles and elders met together to resolve this issue. Peter stood and addressed them as follows: “God knows people’s hearts, and he confirmed that he accepts Gentiles. He made no distinction between us and them, for he cleansed their hearts through faith. We believe that we are all saved the same way, by the undeserved grace of the Lord Jesus.”

  James stood and said, “My judgment is that we should not make it difficult for the Gentiles who are turning to God. Instead, we should write and tell them to abstain from eating food offered to idols, from sexual immorality, from eating the meat of strangled animals, and from consuming blood.”

  Then the apostles and elders together with the whole church in Jerusalem chose delegates, and they sent them to Antioch of Syria with Paul and Barnabas to report on this decision. The men chosen were two of the church leaders—Judas (also called Barsabbas) and Silas.

  The messengers went at once to Antioch, where they called a general meeting of the believers and delivered the letter. And there was great joy throughout the church that day as they read this encouraging message.