Fire and Sword

by D. Brian Shafer

  “What did Paul say to that?” asked Pellecus.

  “He brought the man back to life,” Kara begrudgingly admitted. “Don’t you see what I am up against in Ephesus? This man won’t stop here. He plans to continue this plunder. He plans to go to Rome itself.”

  He turned to Pellecus. “Then you’ll see what a threat he is. A threat that cannot be stopped. I’m only grateful that he is finally leaving Ephesus.”

  “True, Kara,” came the familiar voice of Lucifer. “It seems we cannot stop Paul. But perhaps he can stop himself.”

  “What does that mean?” Kara asked.

  Lucifer smiled. “He’s returning.”

  “What? To Ephesus?” asked Kara.

  “No, Kara,” said Lucifer, smiling even more. “Jerusalem!”

  Kara glanced at Pellecus. “Interesting,” he said. “Jerusalem is your domain, Pellecus. Now you’ll have a chance to instruct us in handling Paul.”

  “Paul, this is Agabus,” said Luke.

  The old man greeted Paul. “I heard you were in Caesarea,” he said. “And I have heard from the Spirit of God concerning you.”

  Luke, who had rejoined the group before they left Ephesus, looked at the others in the room. Paul had been prophesied over several times since they left Ephesus. Most of the messages centered on his return to Jerusalem. The old man excused himself and took Paul’s belt and picked up the sandals that were near the door.

  “I must tell you what the Spirit has revealed to me,” Agabus said. “But first I will show you.”

  Agabus took Paul’s belt and tied his own hands and feet with it. Everyone wondered what the man was doing. After securing himself with the belt, he turned to Paul, and, with tears in his eyes, spoke: “Just as you see me here, so will the owner of this belt and these sandals be taken by the Jews in Jerusalem and delivered into the hands of the Gentiles.”

  Paul looked at the others.

  “Paul, you must not go to Jerusalem,” Luke said. “That is all we have heard since we arrived here. We can leave tonight.”

  Some of the other men nodded in agreement and started getting Paul’s things together so he might leave. Paul shook his head and grabbed Luke’s arm. He made them put down the things. Agabus untied himself.

  “What are you all doing?” he asked. “Do you think I fear the Jews more than the Lord? If by serving the Lord I end up bound by the Jews as this man says, so be it. I am going to Jerusalem.”

  Paul took his belt back and looked at it. “The Lord’s will be done.”

  Paul’s Cell, Rome, A.D. 67

  “‘The Lord’s will be done.’ I recall how ashamed I was in trying to argue against your going on to Jerusalem that day.”

  Paul looked up at his friend.

  “Luke, my brother,” Paul said. “You were speaking out of your love for me. Not for lack of faith. But I knew that God’s will was for me to return to Jerusalem.” He motioned with his hands. “And, as you see, the result is that we did make it to Rome. Of course, not exactly the accommodations I had hoped for, but …”

  Luke smiled. The dank cell that now housed Paul was a far cry from the many opulent rooms Paul had seen in his service to God. And now—as a condemned prisoner—Paul was quite content with this final home. Better by far to die and gain Christ, Paul had often said. A tear came to Luke’s eye as he realized that this gain would happen sooner rather than later.

  “You’re sad, my brother,” Paul said. “What is wrong?”

  “I’ll miss you, my friend,” Luke said.

  “And I you,” answered Paul. “But our parting will be brief. Life is a breath, Luke. And then we shall both be in the presence of the Lord forever. Don’t weep for me. Save your tears for our countrymen who have hardened their hearts to the truth.”

  Luke sat down next to Paul.

  “As I recall, we had a warm welcome from the brothers when we arrived,” Paul continued. “James was there and some of the others. It was good to see them all again and breathe the air of the holy city once more.”

  He took a sip of water. “But then …” Paul raised his arm and showed a scar under his forearm. “I received this in Jerusalem after the Jews incited a near riot. Remember that?”

  “I remember,” said Luke, seeing it all once more in his eyes. “The Romans finally had to restore order. Took you with them to their garrison.”

  Paul grinned. “They meant to flog me until they discovered I was a Roman citizen. That put the fear of God in them!”

  “True,” said Luke. “The only thing Romans respect is Rome. But what you did to the Sanhedrin. That is worth remembering.”

  Paul smiled and agreed. “There is no easier mind to divide than a closed mind.”

  Jerusalem, A.D. 58

  Jerusalem hummed as usual with the busyness of a city in a constant state of agitation. It seemed to Paul that there were more Romans patrolling these days than when he last visited. It was obvious that the recent tensions between the Gentile occupiers and the Jewish zealots had brought reprisals. And as always, the Temple was at the heart of the conflict.

  As Paul walked the steps of the Temple Mount, several religious spirits began scurrying about, pointing him out to the other angels who were ever present at such a place of spiritual significance. One angel in particular, Benzib, an agent of Pellecus, was particularly alert to Paul’s arrival.

  “Lord Pellecus! Paul is here. At the Temple!”

  “I can see that, Benzib,” Pellecus said. “He certainly causes quite a stir among the Host. But don’t worry, my friend. I have a feeling this will be Paul’s last visit to this place. In fact, I’m quite sure of it.”

  He pointed to a group of men. “You see those Jews?”

  “Those men near the column? Yes.”

  “They are Ephesians. And their hatred for Paul is almost as vicious as our own.”

  He looked at Benzib, “You know what to do.”

  Benzib smiled and vanished.

  So many people were drifting in and out of the Temple that the Jews who had made pilgrimage were waiting in the Court of Gentiles before they could make sacrifice.

  One Jew in particular, an Ephesian by the name of Alexander, was amazed at the number of people who were coming in and out of the area. They had arrived in Jerusalem just the day before and were anxious to make sacrifice.

  “As if we don’t see enough of these Gentiles in Ephesus,” Alexander growled. “But at least they aren’t worshiping their goddess in this place.”

  “There’s a reason this is called the Court of Gentiles,” said one of the Ephesians with him.

  “Let’s move on from here,” Alexander said. “It still feels strange.”

  Benzib sidled up next to Alexander. “Wait…”

  “Just a moment,” Alexander said, stopping the group. They looked at him expectantly. Finally one of them spoke up. “What are we waiting for?”

  “I don’t know. Something…”

  “There. Look! It’s Paul. Your enemy…”

  Alexander glanced to his right and saw Paul with some other men who had accompanied him to the Temple. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Paul? Here? And in the company of that Greek? He discreetly pointed Paul out to the others.

  “The Lord has delivered Paul into your hands…”

  “Don’t you see, my brothers? God Himself has brought him here for judgment! Don’t let him leave here!”

  The Jews walked quickly to where Paul stood and seized him by the arm. Paul immediately recognized Alexander from a previous conflict in Ephesus. Crowds of Jews and curious onlookers began gathering around the men. Temple soldiers stood at the ready should violence break out.

  “Good people of Israel!” Alexander began. “I don’t know if you remember this man. He used to be known as Saul of Tarsus. He was once a learned man. A Pharisee zealous for the things of God…” A few of the people in the crowd recognized Paul.

  Benzib and his agents moved in and out of the people, stirring up religious passion within them.
Pellecus watched from a distance as the fruit of his idea developed. Other angels gathered as well—both holy and unholy. Serus, Paul’s guardian, remained ever vigilant but bound by the rules of engagement, which forbade his interfering with the freedom that men have.

  “I see your master’s poison is at work once more,” Serus called out to Benzib.

  “The poison this Temple foments was already in the hearts of these religious fools,” Benzib said. “Pellecus merely expedited the resident poison.”

  “It won’t work,” Serus said. “Paul knows how to defend himself.”

  “Not this time, angel,” said Pellecus. “Paul is in the heart of the beast. And this beast has as many words as he!”

  “Men of Israel! This man is the same who teaches against our nation and our law to people all over the world! He is a traitor to our fathers and a renegade. But worst of all he has brought this man—a Greek—into this holy place!”

  The crowd murmured a low rumble. By now, it seemed as if the entire city was aroused and rushing to the Temple to see what was happening. Alexander continued his rant, and soon everyone was talking and becoming increasingly agitated. The custodians of the Temple became concerned and ordered Paul to be removed from the complex. When he was seized and taken out, they shut the gates.

  Alexander had created such a riotous feeling among the people that their words were increasingly violent. Someone suggested that Paul be taken out and stoned, and the crowd made its way to the stoning field. The crowd stopped just long enough to begin beating Paul with rods.

  “Stop this at once!” came an order.

  The arrival of a detachment of Romans along with their commander stopped the crowd’s activity. The commander walked to Paul and demanded his release.

  “This man is a blasphemer and, according to our law, is to be taken out and stoned,” Alexander said. “He also brought a Greek into the Temple. Something that is abominable in our eyes.” The crowd roared in approval. The commander looked the crowd over and then spoke.

  “I am well acquainted with your disposition toward Gentiles,” he said. “Being one myself. And you—you are not Judean.”

  “No, I am Ephesian,” Alexander said. “A Jew from that region. And this man was in Ephesus stirring up all sorts of trouble there. He even caused a riot in the theater.”

  “Is that true?” the commander asked Paul.

  Before Paul could answer, the crowd began shouting again. The commander was exasperated with trying to get a straight story and ordered that Paul be bound and taken away from that place. The Romans escorted Paul to the barracks, closing ranks around him to protect him. When they reached the steps, Paul turned to the commander.

  “May I speak to the people?” he asked.

  The commander stepped aside and allowed Paul to speak. He held up his hands for the people to be quiet. They continued their noisy demonstration until Paul spoke to them in Aramaic—and they suddenly became quiet. The commander smiled at the man’s wisdom to speak in the native tongue and not a “Gentile” language.

  “People of Israel. Let me tell you my story. First of all, you know me; that I am a Jew. Yes, I was born in Tarsus. But I was brought up in this holy city. I was a student of the great Gamaliel and trained in the Law. I was as zealous for the traditions of our fathers and the law as you are today.”

  As he spoke, some of the Pharisees and Sadducees, members of the Sanhedrin, entered the area. Paul saw them arrive.

  “Those men—they who are of the high priest’s council—they can attest to the fact that I was a prosecutor of the Way. I cast many of the believers in Jesus of Nazareth into prison—both men and women. Some I even saw killed. Not satisfied with the bloodletting here, I even obtained letters that would allow me to go as far as Damascus to arrest and bring back these people as prisoners.

  “But as I neared Damascus, a bright light appeared, and I fell to the ground. I heard a voice, brothers. And as clearly as I am speaking to you, the voice said, ‘Saul! Why are you persecuting Me?’ I was not sure what to do. The men with me stood speechless. I called out, ‘Who are You … Lord?’ And the answer came back: ‘I am Jesus of Nazareth who you are persecuting.’”

  The crowd rumbled a bit upon the mention of Jesus. The Pharisees looked at each other. The commander surveyed the situation, making sure that Paul was safe. A few who had seen Jesus taken by a mob years earlier, called out. But for the most part, the people listened.

  “And so He told me to get up, make my way to Damascus, and receive further instruction there. My companions took me by the hand because I was blinded. When we arrived in Damascus, we were met by a man named Ananias. This man prayed for me, and I received my sight. I could actually see him standing before me. He was a devout man, well respected by the Jews in that region.

  “He told me that God had called me to learn of the Righteous One—and to be a witness of all I learned. And so I was baptized into His name and became a follower. I spent some time here in Jerusalem—praying at the Temple. As I prayed, I fell into a trance, and the Lord told me to leave this place. He told me that Jerusalem would not receive my message and that I was to take it to the Gentiles…”

  Upon the word Gentiles, the crowd erupted.

  “Kill that man!”

  “Rid the world of him!”

  “This man is not fit to live!”

  The commander ordered Paul taken into the barracks for his own safety. Clearly this man had done something to arouse such passion among the people. Granted, Jerusalem was always a place of unsettled feelings, but he had not seen nor heard such anger since the man Jesus was tried when he was a young centurion. He gave Paul a drink and questioned him.

  “You know I have no love for this rabble,” the commander said. “I could care less about their religion. But what is it you have done? These people want you dead.”

  Paul wiped his mouth, bloodied from the beating he had endured. “I have done nothing but speak the truth,” he said. “Nothing.”

  “You Jews are always innocent,” the commander said. “Perhaps the lash will help your memory. Centurion! Stretch this man out.”

  The centurion with them ordered Paul tied to a wooden platform. A soldier came out with a whip of many strands. The ends of the leather straps had bits of glass and rock woven into the fabric—a deadly instrument to rip the flesh. He struck the platform once to give an indication of what Paul was about to experience. Paul looked at the centurion. “You would flog a Roman citizen who hasn’t even had benefit of trial? I have been found guilty of nothing.”

  The centurion waved the man with the whip off. “You are a Roman?”

  “Yes,” said Paul.

  The centurion left the room and came back a moment later with the commander. The commander, looking a little nervous, came to Paul. “You’re a Roman?”

  “Yes,” said Paul.

  “But you are a Jew. How is it that you are also a Roman citizen?” asked the commander. “It cost me a great deal to purchase my citizenship.”

  “Yes, but I was born a citizen,” said Paul. “I didn’t have to purchase my rights as a Roman.”

  The commander looked at the centurion with an uncomfortable expression. He ordered Paul untied. “There will be no more questions of this man,” he said. “Send a message to the Sanhedrin. Tell them they must convene immediately.”

  He helped Paul to his feet and offered him a cup of wine. Paul took it and thanked the man. The centurion gave Paul his clothes. The commander winked at Paul. “After all, this is a Jewish affair,” he said. “Let the Jews handle it.”

  The convening of the Sanhedrin was something that Pellecus had been anticipating for some time. Finally, Paul would receive his due. Whereas inflaming the Gentiles had failed to stop Paul in Ephesus, Pellecus firmly believed that the key to stopping Paul was the Jews—particularly the hard-line Jews in Jerusalem. Now—with charges brought against Paul in the Sanhedrin—this day promised to be a good one.

  Pellecus stood with Lucifer a
nd Kara inside the meeting hall. The Sanhedrin, comprised of the leading Pharisees and Sadducees, met in the Hall of Hewn Stones in the Temple complex. Pellecus couldn’t help but sneer at the pompous manner in which these men carried out their duties.

  “The pride of these men is astonishing,” Pellecus said.

  “Thank you,” said Lucifer. “It has been my greatest success with humans.”

  They laughed.

  “Pride will always negate the Lord’s work in these creatures,” Lucifer continued. “Worst of all is religious pride. What a travesty to attempt to worship one’s creator with one’s own method.”

  “I only hope this will be the last time these men meet to discuss Paul,” Kara said, as the men began finding their seats in the assembly. “I’m done with Paul.”

  “Don’t worry, Kara,” said Pellecus. “This is not Ephesus. These aren’t drunken merchants seeking to save their paltry businesses. These are men of religion. A far deadlier game is being played here. This time Paul will not be playing well.”

  “They can’t destroy him here,” said Kara. “His Roman escort is just outside.”

  “Of course, they won’t destroy him here,” said Pellecus. “At least not in body. But these are the most learned men in the land. They are caretakers of this sacred knowledge they worship. Paul will clearly be at a disadvantage today. He’ll find that his tongue will finally fail him.”

  “I hope you’re right, Pellecus,” said Lucifer. “For I have yet to see Paul’s tongue be anything but crafty.”

  A hush filled the room as Paul entered the chamber. The Sanhedrin had taken their places—the Pharisees on one side, the Sadducees on the other. Paul took his place as the accused. He recalled, with a sense of honor, other trials that had taken place in this room. Jesus Himself had been charged here. As had Stephen. Now it was his turn. He was in august company and prayed he would have the strength to do them justice.

  “How do you answer the charges against you?” the prosecutor asked.

  “I stood in your place once,” Paul began. “And I was witness to another man’s trial. A man who was filled with the Lord’s Spirit and whose integrity you could not resist. Do you remember Stephen? Now I stand accused of serving the same Christ he served.”