The Damascus Way

by Janette Oke

  What now? lingered in every pair of eyes that watched Saul go. What now?

  Jamal remained subdued, as did the entire caravan. Even the beasts seemed affected by the supernatural experience. Despite the long trek and the speed at which they’d traveled, no animal bellowed a complaint for water. There was no shouting by the drovers, no whips, not even orders from the caravan master himself. Instead, the long line of dusty beasts marched into the caravanserai and made camp in near silence.

  Jamal’s first instruction upon arrival was for three guards to escort Helena and Zoe to his inn and see to their accommodations. They were to have the best available, he told them. In an unusually subdued voice, Jamal said he would wait and present himself to his family in the morning. The day, Jamal said, had been already too full.

  Julia had insisted on remaining behind to help see to her father’s needs. By the time the animals had been settled and fed, it was fully dark. In the light of torches Jacob and the other guards erected tents for Jamal and his daughter. A meal was purchased from the finest of the stalls surrounding the caravan. As the attendants laid out the meal upon the carpets of Jamal’s tent, the merchant gestured for Jacob to join them.

  Jacob seated himself upon a cushion facing the tent’s opening, as was befitting a guard. The three of them ate in silence.

  Finally Jamal made use of the copper finger bowl to wash his hands and wipe his mouth. He spoke facing out into the night beyond the tent. “I detect no gloating from either of you.”

  Now that Jacob’s belly was full and the Pharisee was somewhere inside the city walls, he felt like his mind had slowed to one step above slumber.

  Julia replied for them both. “We are all humbled by the Lord’s doings today, Father. Something we would never have contemplated.” Jamal grunted and dragged a damp towel across his face and down his beard. “Even so, I suspect your priests will be much pleased to count another rich man among your company.”

  Jacob countered, “Sire, forgive me. But you are mistaken on several counts.”

  Jamal started to bark. But Julia reached over and touched her father’s arm. “Hear him out, Father, I beg you.”

  Jacob knew he should adopt a more subservient tone. But just then he was too weary to care. “First of all, the relationship you are invited to begin with Jesus is not done through priests. You do not any longer need to enter the Lord’s presence through sacrifices at the Temple or through incense or offerings.”

  “What of those who just left our company? Would they agree with you?”

  “Father,” Julia softly urged. “Wait. Listen.”

  Jamal looked between the two. “You know what he is to say before he opens his mouth?”

  “On this point, yes. I do.”

  Jacob went on, “Your passage into the holy presence has already been arranged. Jesus, the son of the living God, allowed himself to be the one and true sacrifice for all. You move into God’s kingdom when you acknowledge him as Savior. Ask him into your life. Turn from your sin and selfishness, and determine to grow in your faith.”

  Jamal’s words emerged very slowly. “What you have said creates more questions than answers. But I cannot refuse the truth of them. Not after what I witnessed upon Damascus Road. Not when my heart burns within my chest.”

  Jacob heard Julia’s breath catch in her throat. She blinked fiercely, reached over, and took her father’s hand.

  Jamal stared at their two hands intertwined. “Jacob.”

  “Sire.”

  “Close the tent opening, please.”

  Jacob rose and did as he was ordered, signaling to the guard on station beyond the shadows that all was well. When he returned to his seat, the tent was illuminated by a trio of oil lamps.

  Jamal reached beneath the cushion on which he sat and withdrew two packets, both sealed by red wax. He settled one on the carpet between himself and Jacob. “Your reward.”

  “Sire.” Jacob could not help but gape. The frankincense before him represented more wealth than he could have hoped ever to earn in a lifetime of guarding caravans. He knew he should say more. But just then he was too overwhelmed.

  Jamal seemed to understand, for he nodded slowly. He turned to his daughter and placed the second packet on the carpet before her. “I offer you this as your dowry. Along with your permission to marry whomever you choose.”

  “Oh, Papa.” She broke down and wept.

  Jamal stroked his daughter’s hand. “You have not called me that for a long time, daughter.”

  She required some time to say, “Thank you. Thank you, my papa.”

  Jamal nodded once more and turned back to Jacob. “Your abilities are wasted in guard duties. Here is what I propose. You shall make another trip or two for me, handling the frankincense. By that point, your role may be known and any chance of subterfuge lost.”

  Jacob fought to bring his swirling thoughts into focus. What the merchant was saying was important. Vital. “I agree, sire.”

  “Since my talk with Helena I have become aware of the fact that I will no longer be spending much of my time in Tiberias. I need a trustworthy man to run the business there for me. Of course much of what is now there will be moved back to Damascus, which will be my main location. But I will still need someone there. Someone I can trust who can speak for me. Jacob . . . ?”

  Jacob’s heart surged once more. “Sire, that is beyond – ”

  “So you agree?”

  “Oh yes. That is . . .” Jacob looked across the carpeted expanse to where Julia still struggled to regain her composure.

  Jamal also looked at his daughter. “You wish to wed this man?”

  “We . . . we have not spoken of a union.” Julia flushed, and she bit her lip.

  Jacob felt his own face flame. “How could I speak of it when I had nothing to offer? And what of her betrothal to another?”

  Jamal waved a hand. “The fellow got himself killed by a stray arrow.”

  Jacob felt the breath leave his body.

  “And had you something to offer – would you speak?” asked Jamal.

  “Sir, I feel so humble and – ”

  “Ask.”

  Jacob swallowed hard and leaned forward upon his knees, bowing deeply toward Jamal. He finally found enough air to form words. He settled the bag of frankincense back in front of Jamal as his bride-price and stammered, “Sire, I am asking for your permission to become betrothed to your daughter.” He looked toward Julia. “If she will so honor me, sire.”

  “Well, Julia,” Jamal prompted. “Would you wish to accept this young man’s offer?”

  Her voice caught but did not break. “With all my heart.”

  Jamal lifted his daughter’s hand and kissed it softly. “You have my blessing.” He reached for Jacob’s hand and put them together in front of him.

  Jacob found his own vision blurring. So many dreams, so many vistas opening before him . . .

  Julia laid her other hand over that of Jacob’s. She was openly crying.

  “And now I have a request,” said Jamal. “If I could have your full attention.”

  Julia laughed through her tears and exchanged glances with Jacob.

  “It is not for me. For your mother. You have heard that I have given her the Tiberias home. I am asking that you live there with her. Care for her. I do not want to leave her alone there.”

  Julia looked at Jacob. “Jacob . . . ?”

  “We both would be honored, sire,” he said to Jamal.

  Jamal’s astounded gaze swept between them. “Well – it greatly relieves me to have this agreement.” He turned to Julia. “I had worried about your mother. This is your gift to me. I will rest much easier knowing that you will be there with Helena. Her financial needs I will provide, but she needs someone there who truly loves her as she deserves to be loved.”

  Jamal lifted the bag of frankincense and tossed it back in Jacob’s direction. “Now, take your reward, and may I suggest in the future you offer it more sensibly than what I just witness
ed.”

  The laughter they shared only strengthened the bond already forming.

  Jacob watched Julia turn serious and reach for her father’s hand. “You have sought long and diligently for treasure, Father, and now I wish you to claim the greatest treasure of all. The priceless one. Worth far more than mere frankincense. And it is freely offered to all – rich, poor, young, old, Judean, Greek. . . .”

  Jamal shifted on his cushions. His face too had taken on a serious look as he gazed at the carpet on which he sat.

  Jacob moved slightly, thinking he should leave father and daughter to this moment.

  “Stay,” said Jamal without lifting his eyes.

  He stayed.

  Still Jamal did not raise his face. At length he sighed deeply and shook his head. “Everything has turned upside down for me. And now this . . . this Messiah you talk about will not leave me in peace.”

  “But that is exactly what he longs to give you,” Julia assured him. “Eternal peace.”

  Jamal seemed not to even hear the words. “First my daughter, then Helena. Now has come the news of my wife and sons here in Damascus. . . .” He shifted and sighed, then again looked at Julia and Jacob.

  “I could not understand it at all when I first heard it. Still cannot. But this I know. This great power I have witnessed today could come from nowhere else but a mighty being. The whole experience spoke to me. That everything you have been telling me is truth.” He paused a long moment. “The – what should I call it? – tranquility I see on your faces is a treasure indeed. A treasure that far exceeds what you carry in that bag.”

  Julia leaned toward Jamal, clinging to his hand. “Will you pray for that peace we have found, Father?”

  CHAPTER

  FORTY

  Damascus

  The sun over the eastern plains revealed a verdant landscape in spite of winter’s cold. The merchant’s tent remained silent, and there was yet no sign of Julia, so Jacob breakfasted alone. He made a quick circuit around the caravan’s enclosure, surveying the beasts, speaking with the drovers, and assuring himself that all was in order. His heart continued to exult with a refrain of many voices. Julia was to be his betrothed, Jamal had offered him the kind of future in which he would thrive, and the merchant had prayed with them.

  When he heard movement inside Jamal’s tent, he placed himself by the opening, reported on the caravan, and asked permission to visit a synagogue for morning prayers. He felt a need to join with others in the familiar liturgy of thanksgiving. Jamal came to the door and responded that he would be traveling with his daughter to his Damascus home and would be gone for the day. Jacob bowed and departed, praying as he passed through the second set of gates that Julia and her mother would indeed be granted the reception for which they hoped and prayed.

  Damascus could not have contrasted more sharply with Jerusalem, the only other great city Jacob had known. Jerusalem crowned a vast hilltop and possessed not a single straight avenue. Jacob knew people who had spent their entire lives within Jerusalem’s walls, and yet still became lost when visiting a different section. Its lanes wound about, climbed hills and descended steep slopes. The inner city contained a second wall, far older than the first, weaving through the most ancient sectors and causing the city’s lanes to do the same.

  Damascus was perhaps as old as Jerusalem, yet it rested upon a vast flat. The Lebanon Hills rose to the north and west, forming a half-moon barrier that protected the city from most storms. These same hills also created two rivers that spilled in waterfalls down the neighboring cliffs, and poured like broad avenues – one through the city’s heart and the other at its northern edge.

  To the south stretched the vast deserts of Golan and Perea, wastelands extending all the way to Arabia. Yet to the east and north lay lush fields, rich farmlands fed by the same rivers that gave Damascus its life. The Romans had refashioned most of the city’s main avenues so they ran straight and true, north to south and east to west. Jacob had no difficulty finding his way.

  Nor was it hard to find fellow Judeans. Jacob had heard that as many as twenty thousand Judeans lived within the city’s walls. He walked down the central avenue, a street called Straight, and immediately came upon a group of men carrying prayer shawls. He asked them for directions to the baths, which he suspected was their destination as well. Most observant Judeans would make a stop by the baths before morning prayers, as immersion was a component of spiritual cleanliness. For Jacob there was far more here than merely cleaning off the road’s dust. He knew that the act of immersion was considered a symbol of change. Of elevating oneself from the earthly to the heavenly realms. Jacob wanted to mark all that had happened with such an act, and to complete the action with prayer.

  Afterwards Jacob followed the men to the synagogue with a borrowed prayer shawl. He had heard them speaking as they dressed and knew the place of worship was dominated by followers of the Way. Apparently the news he had heard in Judea was true, that a large number of believers had found safety in Damascus.

  The synagogue was a low structure set back from Straight Street within a waist-high wall. The building’s interior had recently been lime washed. Yet no amount of light, nor even Jacob’s joyful mood, could brighten the somber gathering.

  He quickly realized that the voices around him were speaking of those residing just opposite the synagogue. They had just arrived with a caravan last night, he heard. The Pharisee’s name muttered about him sounded like news of a plague. Saul of Tarsus. Dreaded hunter of the followers of Jesus. Here in Damascus.

  Several hundred men filled the main chamber. Women’s voices could be heard from beyond the cloth screens running down the eastern wall. The gathering quieted for the service, which followed the same pattern as in Judea: a song and then a Scripture reading from the Torah scrolls, followed by a prayer from the Psalms. Some men departed to begin their day, but most remained. Jacob stayed where he was, repeating silently the Psalms that resonated with the emotions filling his heart. How precious, O God, is your constant love. You let us drink from the river of your goodness. You are the source of all life.

  Eventually the voices of concern and fear around him again intruded on his thoughts and prayers. He heard men whispering that perhaps they should take their families and flee. But where would they go? If Saul chased the followers all the way north to Damascus, what was to keep him from traveling on to Sidon, or Philadelphia, or even Babylon?

  His mind rang with another passage from the Psalms, God is present in the company of the righteous, and he knew what he was being called to do.

  Following formal prayers in a synagogue service, it was customary for the lectern to be opened to anyone who felt moved by the Spirit to come forward, so long as the elders leading the service approved. Many of the congregation now remained hidden beneath their prayer shawls, their eyes clenched shut and their beards trembling with the intensity of their prayers. Jacob slipped from his seat and moved forward. He bowed to the three elders seated before the dais and waited. The senior man inspected him, then nodded.

  Jacob stepped up on the dais and stood behind the lectern, facing the congregation. He began, “I have never spoken in a synagogue before, but my name is Jacob, of the tribe of Benjamin. I live in Tiberias. I was orphaned by raiders on Damascus Road, rescued and raised by a Roman centurion. He is now a God-fearer and a follower of the Way. As am I.”

  A few heads had turned his way. Some who whispered worriedly with each other in the back glanced at him. But not many. This too was customary. Any could speak, but no one was required to listen. Jacob knew such a synagogue gathering would often silence a speaker like him through the shame of ignoring him. If the speaker raised his voice, those who chose not to hear would pray louder, or raise the volume of their conversation, or leave.

  Jacob went on, “I am a senior guard in the service of Jamal, merchant of Tiberias and Damascus. It was with our caravan that Saul of Tarsus traveled here.”

  The silence was so sudden, the chan
ge so swift, the entire place might as well have been turned to stone. Every eye was fastened on him as Jacob continued, “The worst disaster of my entire life happened upon the Damascus Road when I lost my beloved parents. And now the finest moment has occurred upon the very same road. As the caravan approached Damascus, a light appeared from heaven. A light too bright for me to describe. It shone on Saul of Tarsus.” A murmur of voices began again, and Jacob said loudly, “And Jesus appeared to him. I know this because Saul told me.”

  A voice cried over the growing din, “Can this be?”

  “Shah! Let the man speak.”

  Jacob gripped the dais more tightly. “Saul was blinded by the appearance of the risen Lord.”

  “It is as I heard!” another voice called. “Saul and his group are residing in the priest’s home just across the avenue. The Pharisee remains blind even now!”

  The senior elder at the front confirmed, “The Pharisee will not eat nor drink. All night he has prayed. He prays still. He says he waits for God to tell him what to do.”

  Jacob lifted his voice. “One of the reasons I am here in Damascus was that I was sent by the elder of the Joppa synagogue to warn you of Saul’s arrival. On my way here, I arrived in Tiberias to learn that Saul was demanding space within the next caravan departing for your city. Jamal the merchant had been preparing this caravan for days. So the man I was sent to warn you about came with me in the same caravan. God’s hand was in all this. Of this I am certain.”

  “The Pharisee has sworn to drag the followers of Jesus back to Jerusalem in chains!” The shout was echoed by many others in the congregation, and the clamor of voices again filled the room.

  Jacob raised his arms for silence, and the group settled down to listen once more. “That was before,” Jacob told them. “I am certain of this. The man Saul has met Jesus. In person. He has heard the Lord speak to him. As the elder has reported, Saul is waiting to hear further from God.”