“If what Paul expects happens, I—I would rather not be there. And I would feel safer if you were not there, darling.”
“Paul will be safe,” he reassured her. “The priests hate him, but Jerusalem is still under Rome, and the soldiers are obliged to protect Roman citizens.”
“Roman citizenship did not save you from being beaten in Pisidian Antioch,” she reminded him. “Or in Philippi.”
“But only because Paul did not claim his right, and I felt I should share the troubles of the others.”
“Paul owes much to you, Luke,” Thecla said. “You gave up your career as a physician to go with him.”
He drew her closer to him. “But if Paul had not converted you in Tarsus, you would never have come with Glaucus to Jerusalem and I would never have found you and fallen in love with you.”
She put her arm about his waist beneath his cloak. “I wonder if that may have been part of God’s plan too. Our life and our happiness together, Luke, could be only a preparation for something greater, something more important than either of us.”
“Eternity?”
“No. Something in life, but I don’t know exactly what.”
“Being with you has made me a better physician,” he said, “and a better man. I have gained a new understanding of what life can really mean for two people who love each other.”
“God has been good to both of us in giving us each other,” she agreed. “I should not be selfish and want to hold you if it is His will that you go to Jerusalem with Paul.”
As they came along the street in the shadows of dusk, Luke saw an odd figure trudging toward Philip’s house. The matted gray hair and beard and the long robe and staff looked familiar, but only when they came close enough to see the man’s face did recognition come to Luke. Then he seized the old man by the shoulders and embraced him. “Agabus!” he cried. “What brings you here?”
The old prophet peered at him in the dusk. “I have come from the mountains of Judea, Luke of Antioch,” he said, “with a message for him who was once called Saul of Tarsus.”
“Paul should be inside the house. It is almost time for the evening meal.”
The house was already crowded, for Paul was to speak that evening, but at the sight of the old prophet a hush fell over them. Agabus was known in Caesarea and respected for his ability to prophesy. The old man walked up to Paul and silently removed the apostle’s belt. Then, sitting on the floor, he looped the belt around his own wrists and ankles and drew the loop taut with his teeth. “This is what the Holy Spirit says,” he pronounced solemnly, “‘The Jews at Jerusalem will bind the man who owns this belt and turn him over to the heathen.’”
For a moment there was no sound as the old prophet sat there with his hands and feet bound, then as Luke stooped to help him loosen the belt, Thecla cried, “It is a sign, Paul! You must not go to Jerusalem.” Others took up the cry, and some of the women began to weep. But Paul held up his hand for silence, and when they had quieted enough for him to be heard, he opened his arms in that familiar gesture of his. “What do you mean by weeping and breaking my heart?” he asked, smiling. “Why, I am ready not only to be bound at Jerusalem, but to die for the sake of our Lord Jesus. Besides,” he continued, “Agabus did not say I would be killed. And this would not be the first time I have been given into the custody of the heathen and lived to tell the story. Come, let us sing and rejoice that so many old friends are all here together, praising God and Jesus Christ.”
When Paul and the party left a few days later for Jerusalem, Thecla did not go with them. And in truth, Luke was not unhappy that she had stayed behind in Caesarea where she would be safe with the family of Philip, for the prophecy of Agabus had increased his uneasiness about the results of their visit to the Holy City. When they arrived at Jerusalem, Luke went directly to the home of Mary, the mother of Mark, to inquire about Peter and Mark. They were absent, he learned, visiting some of the churches in the cities of Decapolis beyond the Sea of Galilee and in Galilee itself, but Mary insisted that Luke remain at her house while in Jerusalem.
Paul was staying at the home of his sister, who had been living in Jerusalem now for several years, with her son Joseph, who was apprenticed to a money-changer in the temple. The day after their arrival Paul, Luke, and the others visited the patriarch James and the elders of the Christian Church in Jerusalem, and that same day Paul addressed the congregation in the former synagogue, which served them as a church. He had been welcomed warmly by the church leaders, and the congregation listened with interest as he gave an account of his work during the past several years, since his last visit to Jerusalem while Luke had been in Antioch with Thecla and the baby, Apollos Lucanus. As Paul told of his work and the thriving churches he had established, Luke thought he seemed more like himself than at any time since the tragedy at Ephesus.
It was an impressive list of accomplishments that the apostle gave. Churches had been established and nourished until they were strong, thousands had been brought to know the Way of Jesus, and a far-flung organization of congregations had been linked together and with the Church at Jerusalem throughout the eastern end of the Mediterranean. And as a tangible evidence of the reverence these churches gave to Paul and the mother church in Jerusalem, he had brought substantial sums of money which they had sent to relieve some of the famine and suffering which gripped the city.
Paul finished his account of the sums given by the various churches and put down the tablet upon which they had been written. He looked over the congregation before him. “Our brothers and sisters in Galatia and Asia, in Macedonia and Greece,” he said, “ask nothing in return for these gifts which they make out of love for Jesus and for you here who first were given the opportunity to come together to worship Him as a congregation. But let me beg that you return that love with good measure; as our Lord Jesus said, ‘Practice giving to others and they will give to you; good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, people will pour into your lap. For the measure you use with others, they in turn will use with you.’”
It was not said as a rebuke, although Paul had ample reason to rebuke some elements of this church which had sent out the false prophets to create discord among the new churches on the questions of circumcision and diet. Rather it was a plea for tolerance, something of a new role for Paul. Then he took another tablet from a sheaf which was on the pulpit before him. “I have one other thing to read to you,” he said then. “It is a part of a letter which I have written to the church at Corinth, but I would speak it to all who follow in the Way of Jesus, wherever they may be, for we sometimes forget what He taught us about love for each other.” Then he read in his deep, moving voice:
If I could speak the languages of men and of angels, too,
And have no love,
I am only a rattling pan or a clashing cymbal.
If I should have the gift of prophecy,
And know all secret truths, and knowledge in its every form,
And have such perfect faith that I could move mountains,
But have no love, I am nothing.
If I should dole out everything I have for charity,
And give my body up to torture in mere boasting pride,
But have no love, I get from it no good at all.
Love is so patient and so kind;
Love never boils with jealousy;
It never boasts, is never puffed with pride;
It does not act with rudeness or insist upon its rights;
It never gets provoked, it never harbors evil thoughts;
Is never glad when wrong is done,
But always glad when truth prevails;
It bears up under anything,
It exercises faith in everything,
It keeps up hope in everything,
It gives up power to endure in anything.
And so these three, faith, hope
and love endure,
But the greatest of them is love.
Paul gathered up his tablets and scrolls and descended from the pulpit. Looking around him at the congregation, Luke could see that Paul’s appeal for tolerance and understanding had been well received. Remembering his former truculence with Peter, Luke realized again what a tremendous change had come over the dynamic apostle in the months since he had heard him speak in the lecture hall at Ephesus before the riot of the silversmiths.
James, the patriarch, now rose to speak, evidently very much pleased with Paul’s more reasonable attitude and the approval manifested by the congregation. “You see, Brother Paul,” he said, “how many thousand believers there are among the Jews, all of them zealous champions of the law. They had been repeatedly told about you that you continuously teach the Jews who live among the heathen to turn their backs on Moses, and that you continue to tell them to stop circumcising their children and to stop observing their cherished customs. Now you must do just what we tell you. We have here four men who are under a vow. Take them along with you, purify yourself with them, and bear the expense with them of having their heads shaved. Then everybody will know that none of the things they have been told about you are so, but that you yourself are living as a constant observer of the law. As for the heathen who have become believers, we have sent them our resolution that they must avoid anything which is contaminated by idols, the tasting of blood, the meat of strangled animals, and sexual immorality.”
Luke waited for Paul’s answer, as did the congregation. He could understand something of the struggle which must be going on in the apostle’s mind. Paul had always prided himself upon being a Jew and on his strict upbringing in accordance with the law, and had, in fact, always kept the laws, even when he had gone out as apostle to the Gentiles. And yet if he went through the ritual purification of the temple for the seven days, while paying the expenses of four others, as James suggested, the Judaizers among the congregation might well noise it abroad that Paul was espousing the Jewish laws for Gentiles as a prerequisite to being accepted by the Church. That, of course, would be playing directly into the hands of those who had fought him so bitterly here in Jerusalem. And yet Luke could see that James had chosen the simplest and most sensible way by which to avoid criticism here in Jerusalem that Paul had broken the laws of Moses and thus was liable to death according to Jewish law.
Paul hesitated only a moment. “I will do as you ask, James,” he said quietly, “for I have always been zealous of the law and have shown the proper reverence for it.”
It was decided then that Paul and the four men should go to the temple the next day to begin the ritual period of purification. Luke could see that James and the elders were pleased at this solution to the problem of Paul’s presence in Jerusalem. And even Paul was satisfied, for that evening he seemed in better spirits than he had at any time since coming to the Holy City.
VI
As Luke went about giving his services to the sick, he could see just how much Jerusalem had changed in the period of almost ten years since he had visited the city. Even now, at the season of Pentecost, when pilgrims usually flocked here from all parts of the world, Jerusalem was quite evidently a dying city. Everywhere he went there were disease, famine, and misery. More than anywhere else, the grim face of want was apparent in the drawn faces of the children, their bodies swollen from lack of proper food, and the beggars who crawled in the dust of the streets, no longer able even to stand erect. Yet even in these drawn faces hate showed for the Roman conquerors, and in the hills, particularly of Galilee, where there had long been open rebellion, bandits openly defied the Romans. A seething undercurrent of discontent was apparent everywhere, and a premonition of disaster which seemed as certain as the setting of the sun beyond the mountains to the west.
The large offering which Paul had brought to James and the elders helped relieve some of the suffering among the Christians and the Jews, with whom they freely shared their good fortune, but it was pitifully inadequate to remedy the need of a large city of starving people. Depending almost entirely upon the sufferings and the business which pilgrims brought, Jerusalem could not live when those pilgrims no longer flocked to the city, anxious to give part of their wealth to the Temple of Jehovah and the priests. It was easy to see why the Jews blamed Paul for their troubles and why his name was the most hated one upon their lips, more despised even than the Romans. And while James and the leaders of the Church were praying that Paul’s visit might be accomplished without a riot, Luke was certain that the fanatic Judaizers who had fought Paul for so many years were still busy trying to discredit him and might even have joined forces with the agents of the Sanhedrin to deliver Paul into their hands, hoping he would be arrested and perhaps executed upon the order of the high priest and his associates.
As the days passed with no untoward event, however, Luke began to hope that they would be able to finish the week required for the purification of those Paul was sponsoring in the temple and get safely back to Caesarea without event. But on the sixth day, in the afternoon, the storm broke. Luke was walking from his surgery to the home of Mark’s mother when he heard a tumultuous shouting from the direction of the temple. Minor riots were not uncommon in Jerusalem in these days of inflamed tempers, but the thunder of voices continued, and with a sudden conviction of disaster Luke hurried across the Vale of Kedron toward the temple, from which the smoke of the day’s sacrifices rose in the still afternoon air. Soon he began to encounter Jews hurrying in all directions toward the scene of the disturbance. When one of them bumped into him in the narrow street, Luke asked, “Can you tell me what has happened?”
“A man has blasphemed against Jehovah and the temple,” the Jew panted. “The crowd is going to drag him away to stone him.”
“How did he blaspheme?” Luke asked. Blasphemy was a term used loosely by the Jews to denote almost any infringement of their religious laws.
“He is said to have taken a Gentile into the holy place where only Jews may enter.”
Luke stopped. It could not be Paul, he decided, for Paul would never break the strict law that forbade taking Gentiles into the holy part of the temple. And the four he was sponsoring were all Jews, so there could be no conflict there.
Ahead of him Luke saw a man staggering down the street, with blood streaming from several cuts about his head. When he came nearer he recognized him as a Greek named Trophimus, one of the presbyters of the church at Ephesus who had come with them, bringing gifts from the congregation to Jerusalem. The Ephesian stumbled and fell into the street. He would have been trampled by the crowd surging toward the temple had not Luke seized him under the arms and dragged him to the safety of an abandoned shop.
Trophimus opened his eyes. When he recognized Luke he pushed himself up on his elbows. “Get to Paul, Luke,” he begged. “They will kill him.”
Luke took the wounded man by the shoulders and eased him back upon the floor. “Where is Paul?” he asked. “And what happened?”
“I was with Paul on the lower level of the temple,” Trophimus gasped, “where the money-changers sit and the scrolls and animals are sold for sacrifice. Some Jews had been following us, and suddenly they seized both Paul and me and dragged us up the steps. Then they started beating us and shouting that Paul had blasphemed against the temple by taking me to the upper level.”
“It was a plot, then?”
“Yes. As soon as they started beating us I heard others taking up the cry all around the temple. They were trying to enrage the crowd against Paul.”
Alone, Luke knew he could do nothing to help Paul; in fact, he would not be able even to reach him through the press of the crowd which would already be surging around the temple. Only one power could save the apostle now, outside of direct intervention by God: that was the Roman garrison. They were constantly on guard against disturbances in this city of easily inflamed passions, and if he could reach them, th
ere was a chance of saving Paul.
Leaving Trophimus in the shop, Luke set out as fast as he could run through the streets toward the Antonia. The Jews would not dare stone Paul to death inside the city, he knew, for that in itself would be breaking their laws. He must reach the Roman guard and get help before the mob could drag Paul from the city to the place outside the gates where Stephen had been stoned.
Up the steeply climbing streets toward the towering walls of the Antonia Luke ran, his heart pounding with the unaccustomed effort and his fears for Paul. At the gate a sentry barred his way, but he gasped, “I am Luke of Antioch, son of Theophilus, who is chief magistrate at Rome. Take me to the captain of the guard.”
The name of Theophilus was enough to impress the sentry, and he called to the officer who sat in the guard post beside the gate. Luke gasped out his story to the captain, who recognized its significance immediately. “I will tell Claudius Lysias, the colonel,” he said. “Wait here.”
The colonel came at once, concern written upon his face. A riot in Jerusalem could mean the lives of the garrison, either at the hands of the inflamed Jews or on order of the emperor for letting it happen. The disturbances which had wrecked the career of Pontius Pilate were still fresh in the minds of the Roman officers.
Luke repeated his story quickly, but before he had finished, Claudius Lysias was snapping orders to his captains. A few minutes later a strong force of soldiers trotted out the gate with the colonel and two captains at their head, spears at the ready to push their way through the crowds. Winded as he was, Luke could barely keep up, but he stayed close to the soldiers, determined to be present when they found Paul.
By the time the Roman party descended to the Vale of Kedron from the eminence upon which the fortress of Antonia stood, a howling mob of Jews was pouring through the defile, moving toward the city gate, outside of which was the traditional place of execution. The soldiers plowed through the mass of angry men, leaving bruised shins and cracked heads in their wake. By staying between the last pair of legionnaires Luke managed to reach the center of the riot with them.
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