Sons of Encouragement

by Francine Rivers

  “If you want to go out among the Gentiles to preach, Mark, you must do more than speak their language. You must learn to think in Greek. It must become as natural to you as Aramaic and Hebrew.”

  “Can you help me?”

  “From this day forward, we will speak Greek to one another.”

  And so we did, though his mother grimaced every time she heard her son speak the language of uncircumcised, pagan Gentiles.

  “I know; I know,” she said after questioning my wisdom on the matter. “If they understand who Jesus is and accept Him as Savior and Lord, then they will no longer be goyim; they will be Christians.” Sometimes the old prejudices rose to challenge our faith in Jesus’ teaching.

  John Mark joined us. “In the eyes of Caiaphas and the rest, Mother, we are as goyim as the Greeks and Romans.”

  “You were listening at the door.”

  “Your voice carries. The old has passed away, Mother. Christians have no barriers of race, culture, or class between them.”

  “I know this in my head, but sometimes my heart is slow to follow.” She reached up and put her hands on his shoulders. He leaned down to receive her kiss. “Go with my blessing.” She waved her hand at both of us.

  Paul and Barnabas wrote letters from Antioch of Pisidia, where they preached in the synagogues. Some Jews listened and believed; many did not. A few incited the influential religious women and city leaders, and caused a riot. Paul and Barnabas were driven from the town.

  “Everywhere we go, certain Jews follow, determined to stop us from preaching Christ as Messiah in the synagogues. . . .”

  Even when they went on to Iconium and preached to Gentiles, these enemies came to poison minds against the message. As always, Paul dug in his heels. “We will stay here as long as God allows and preach Christ crucified, buried, and arisen.”

  They stayed a long time in Iconium, until Jews and Gentiles banded together in a plot to stone Paul. They escaped to Lystra and then to Derbe. Despite the risks, they continued to preach. They healed a man born a cripple in Lystra, and the Greeks thought they were gods. Paul and Barnabas tried to restrain the crowd from worshiping them, and Jews from Antioch used the opportunity to turn the mob against them.

  “Paul was stoned by the mob,” Barnabas wrote. “The Jews from Antioch dragged his body outside the city gate and dumped him there. We all went out and gathered around him and prayed. When the Lord raised him, our fear and despair lifted. Neither Jew nor Gentile dared touch Paul when we went back into the city. The Lord is glorified! Friends ministered to Paul’s wounds, and then we traveled to Derbe and preached there before returning to Lystra to strengthen believers, appoint elders, and encourage our brothers and sisters to hold firmly to their faith when persecution comes. . . .”

  Another letter arrived from Pamphylia. They preached in Perga and Attalia. Others wrote as well. “Paul and Barnabas returned by ship to Antioch of Syria. . . .”

  The reports encouraged us in Jerusalem.

  But troubles arose. False teaching crept in when disciples moved on. Returning to Antioch, Paul and Barnabas discovered trouble that threatened the faith of Gentiles and Jews alike. They came to Jerusalem to discuss the question already causing dissension between Jewish and Gentile brothers.

  “Some Jewish Christians are teaching circumcision is required of Gentiles for salvation.”

  Every member of the church council in Jerusalem had been born a Jew and followed the Law all his life. All had been circumcised eight days after birth. All had lived under the sacrificial system established by God. Even in the light of Christ crucified and risen, it was difficult to shed the laws by which we had been reared.

  “It is a sign of the covenant!”

  “The old covenant!” Paul argued. “We are saved by grace. If we demand these Gentiles be circumcised, we’re turning back to the Law which we’ve never been able to keep. Christ freed us from the weight of it!”

  None of us on the council could boast Paul’s heritage. Born a Jew, son of the tribe of Benjamin, a Pharisee and celebrated student of Gamaliel, he had lived in strictest obedience to the law of our fathers, his zeal proven in his brutal persecution of us before Jesus confronted him on the road to Damascus. Yet, here Paul stood, debating fiercely against placing the yoke of the Law upon Gentile Christians!

  “It is false teaching, my brothers! The Holy Spirit has already manifested Himself in the faith of these Gentiles. Don’t forget Cornelius!” Everyone looked at Peter, who was nodding thoughtfully.

  Paul and Barnabas reported signs and wonders that had occurred among the Greeks in Lystra, Derbe, and Iconium.

  “Surely these events are proof enough of God’s acceptance of them as His children.” Paul grew passionate. “God accepts them. How can we even consider going back to the Law from which Christ freed us? This cannot be!”

  We asked Paul and Barnabas to withdraw so that we could pray on the matter and discuss it further. His eyes blazed, but he said no more. He told me later he wanted to argue the case further, but knew the Lord was training him in patience. How I laughed over that.

  It was not an easy matter for us to decide. We were all Jews with the law of Moses ingrained in our minds from childhood. But Peter spoke for all of us when he said, “We are all saved the same way, by the undeserved grace of the Lord Jesus.” Still there were other concerns to address, reasons why some direction must be given these new Gentile Christians so that they wouldn’t be easily enticed back into the licentious worship of their culture. I had traveled more widely than most of those on the council and could speak of the issues with personal knowledge. I had seen pagan practices, and so had my father, who had traveled to Asia, Thrace, Macedonia, and Achaia and told me what he saw. We could not just say we are all saved by grace, and not say more!

  James spoke for compromise.

  While the council discussed the issues, I acted as secretary and made a list of the most important points on which we agreed. We needed to reassure the Gentile Christians of salvation through the grace of our Lord Jesus and encourage them to abstain from eating food offered to idols, engaging in sexual immorality, eating meat from strangled animals, and consuming blood—all things they may have practiced while worshiping false gods. They all agreed that James and I should draft the letter.

  “Someone must carry it north to Antioch so that none there can say that Paul or Barnabas have written it.”

  James was needed in Jerusalem. Judas (also called Barsabbas) volunteered, and then suggested me as his companion.

  Peter agreed. “Since the letter will be written by your hand, Silas, you should go and testify to it. Then there will be no question of its origin.”

  Oh, how my heart beat with excitement. And dread. It had been over ten years since I had ventured outside the boundaries of Judea.

  It was time I did.

  As I prepared for the journey with Judas, Paul, and Barnabas, John Mark came to see me. His Greek was greatly improved, as was his confidence, and he believed strongly that the Lord was calling him back to Syria and Pamphylia. He asked me to speak to Paul on his behalf, which I agreed to do.

  I did not expect so firm a refusal from a man who argued so passionately for grace!

  “Let him stay in Jerusalem and serve! He was called once before and turned his back on the Lord.”

  “Called, Paul, but not fully prepared.”

  “We haven’t time to coddle him, Silas.”

  “He doesn’t ask it of you.”

  “And how long would it be before he missed his mother again?”

  His sarcasm grated. “He had reasons other than missing his family, Paul.”

  “None that convince me he is trustworthy.”

  I left the matter then, determined to take it up again the next day when he’d had time to think more on the matter. Barnabas tried to warn me.

  “It is a sin to hold a grudge, Barnabas.” We are so swift to see the faults in others, failing to see the same fault in ourselves.

&
nbsp; “It’s his determination to spread the message of Christ that presses him on like no other man I know. Paul cannot understand other men who are not so driven as he.”

  Ignoring his wise advice, I tried again. I thought to go to the heart of the matter.

  “You spoke eloquently of grace, Paul. Can you offer none to John Mark?”

  “I forgave him.”

  His tone rankled. “How kind of you.”

  How easily we forget that harsh words serve only to fan anger into flame.

  Paul looked at me, eyes dark, cheeks flushed. “He deserted us in Perga! I can forgive him, but I cannot afford to forget his cowardice.”

  “John Mark is no coward!”

  “I would have more respect for him if he spoke for himself!”

  All I had done was make matters worse.

  Immediately upon our arrival in Antioch of Syria, I read the letter to the congregation. The Gentile Christians were relieved by the instructions of the Jerusalem council, while some Jewish Christians protested. When the seed of pride takes root, it is hard to dig out. Judas and I stayed to teach Christ’s message of grace to all who had faith in His crucifixion, burial, and resurrection. A few Jews left, rather than hear more. We continued to encourage those who had not been deceived by men’s pride in their own good works. We hoped to strengthen their faith so that they could stand firmly against the persecution we knew would come.

  Often, I heard Paul preach. He was a great orator who presented the message with proof from Scripture. He could switch from Greek to Aramaic with ease. He never surrendered when debated, but used his considerable intellect to win converts—or rouse an angry mob! No question confounded him.

  I began to understand John Mark’s difficulty. A man with Paul’s dramatic conversion experience, intellectual powers, and education could make the most earnest Christian feel ill equipped to serve beside him. If not for the advantages given me in my youth, I too might have been intimidated. I was not afraid of Paul, but his impassioned character and his confidence that he was always right annoyed me on numerous occasions. That he was right gained my respect if not affection. Brotherly affection developed through longer acquaintance.

  A letter came from Jerusalem.

  Paul watched me read the scroll. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong.” I rolled it again, wondering why I felt such deep disappointment to be called home. “Judas and I are called back to Jerusalem.”

  “Once matters are settled there, come back to Antioch.”

  His command surprised me. We had said little to each other since our argument over John Mark. While we respected each other, shared faith in Jesus, there remained a barrier between us that neither of us had made great efforts to tear down.

  “You are a fine teacher, Silas.”

  I raised my brows at the compliment and inclined my head. “As are you, Paul.” I did not flatter him. “I’ve never heard a man argue the case for Christ so thoroughly. If faith came through reason, the whole world would accept Jesus as Lord.”

  “We must do as Jesus commanded! We must go out into all the nations and make disciples!”

  “And so you and Barnabas shall.” I smiled faintly. “And others.” I meant John Mark.

  “You are well equipped to do the work, Silas. The council has twelve members, and they can draw from others who knew Jesus personally and walked with Him during those three years He preached. Let the council cast lots for another to replace you.”

  A man likes to think himself indispensable. “I would not presume—”

  “Is it presumption to ask God’s will in the matter? I could see it in your face when you read that letter you’re holding. You prefer teaching to administration.”

  “I know more of administration than I do of teaching.”

  “When we delight in the Lord, He gives us the desire of our hearts. The Scriptures tell us that. And your desire is to go out into the world and preach. Can you deny that?”

  “We each have our place in the body of Christ, Paul. I must serve where I’m needed.”

  He started to say more and then pressed his lips together. With a shake of his head, he spread his hands and walked away.

  Judas and I returned to Jerusalem and the council. I spoke with John Mark and saw his disappointment. “I will go to Antioch and speak to Paul myself. Perhaps after we talk, he will see I’ve lost my timidity.”

  I thought that a wise idea. The young man was Barnabas’s cousin, and Barnabas would encourage Paul to give him a second chance. As for my desire to return to Antioch, I left it to the Lord. I knew there were others who could travel with Paul, men wiser than I in how to deal with his strong personality. But I wanted to go. He challenged my faith. One could not be complacent in his company.

  Not long after John Mark left Jerusalem, a letter came from Antioch addressed to Peter and James.

  “Silas, Paul asks that you be released from the council so that you can travel with him throughout Syria and Cilicia. He wants to visit the churches he started and see how they’re doing.”

  The request surprised me. “What of Barnabas? Has he fallen ill?”

  “He and John Mark have gone to Cyprus.”

  I could imagine what had happened between Paul and Barnabas. Paul had not relented, and Barnabas could not crush the spirit of his cousin. Nor should he.

  Peter looked at me. “Did Paul speak with you about this while you were in Antioch?”

  “Yes.” I could feel the others staring. “I told Paul I would serve wherever I’m needed.”

  James studied my face. “You have been praying about this for some time, haven’t you?”

  “Unceasingly.”

  The council members discussed the matter. Some did not want me to leave Jerusalem. My administrative abilities had been of use in the church. But I knew Paul was right. Others could take my place—men of strong character and faith who stood firm despite persecution.

  “You’ve traveled far more than any man here, Silas. You would be a good companion to Paul. Do you feel the Lord calling you to this work?”

  “Yes.” I had asked the Lord to give me clear opportunity if that was His will, and Paul’s letter and the council’s response eliminated my doubts.

  Other questions would have to wait until I met Paul in Antioch.

  We prayed and cast lots. Barsabbas was chosen to take my place. He was an honest, hardworking man who had proven his love of Jesus and the church on many occasions.

  I left the next morning for Antioch.

  Paul’s greeting was cool. “You sent him, didn’t you?”

  I didn’t have to ask whom he meant. His face said it all. Would his anger run so deep we would be unable to work together?

  “John Mark told me he intended to speak to you. He thought once you talked with him, you would see he is no longer as timid as he was. I take it things did not go well between you.”

  “Well enough for others, but I didn’t want him on this trip.”

  By others, he meant Barnabas.

  “Why not?”

  “I have no way of knowing how long we will be gone, Silas. A year at the least, probably longer. I’m not convinced of his dedication.”

  “And Barnabas disagreed.”

  “It was the first time I’ve seen him angry. He insisted Mark go with us. I refused to take the risk.”

  I smiled faintly. “How do you know I’ll have the courage to stay the course?”

  A muscle worked near his right eye. “The night I broke down your door, had you beaten, and smashed everything we could lay hands on, you didn’t curse me—not once—nor did you cry out against what I was doing.” He met my gaze. “I intended to kill you, but your manner stayed my hand.”

  “God stayed your hand.”

  “I wish He had stayed my hand on other occasions.”

  I knew he meant his part in the stoning of Stephen. “Our past is the burden we left at the cross.” I told him what I had done so there would be no secrets between
us.

  “At least . . . you never committed murder.”

  I could not help but smile. “I can see clearly you’re an ambitious man, Paul, but let’s not compete over who is the greater sinner!”

  He looked surprised and then paled. “No! We all have sinned and fallen short of God’s glorious standard. This is the truth men need to know so that they will understand their need of our Savior, Jesus Christ.”

  His anguished declaration told me that the training of a Pharisee continued to test his faith. He had great regret. But didn’t we all feel remorse over things of the past—our blindness, the wasted days and years we did not live for Christ? We must remind one another: by grace we are saved, not by works. “There is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus.” Paul would need to be reminded of his own words—often. “God saved us by His grace when we believed. And we can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God.” God had chosen this man to bear testimony, and his violent, self-righteous past was proof of God’s ability to change a man into a new creation and set him upon a new course.

  His eyes grew bright with tears. “We’ve been washed in His blood.”

  “And clothed in His righteousness.”

  “Amen!” We said in unison. We laughed with the joy of free men joined in common purpose.

  Paul grasped my arms. “We will do well together, my friend.”

  Yes, we would, though neither of us knew yet how difficult our days together would be.

  FOUR

  Before we began our travels, Paul and I discussed our strategy. “The Greeks know nothing of the Scriptures,” he said, “so we must speak to them in ways they will understand.”

  My father had said the same thing in several ways. “My father insisted I have training in logic and Greek poetry.” I had to know how to think like the Greeks in order to best them in trade.

  We would not burden the fledgling congregations with our support. I had some resources on which we could depend, but Paul insisted he would work for a living.