Perhaps things were finally turning in his direction. The new governor, a man named Festus, had recently arrived and seemed eager to work with the priests. This being the case, Ananias requested, and was granted, permission to have Paul transferred back to Jerusalem to stand trial. Finally, it seemed, they had him.
“The others have arrived,” said Ananias’ aide, Zechariah.
The high priest nodded. “Thank you, Zechariah. Send them in.” Ananias stopped to check out his reflection in the mirror. He stared for a moment at the middle-aged reflection looking back at him, thinking of the business he was about to conduct. “What are you, Ananias?” he spoke to himself. “A priest or a politician? Perhaps there is no difference.” He smiled at his reflection. “At least, not these days.”
“No difference, indeed,” said Rugio, as Ananias left the room. “Not in Israel at least. Right, Nathan?”
Nathan, a warrior angel who served Rugio, nodded in agreement. “I’m afraid the priesthood has fallen into hard times.”
“It will get harder before it lets up,” said Rugio. “Hardest of all for Paul.”
Ananias received the three men he trusted most: Zechariah, Bezial, and John. All of these men were Pharisees who sat on the Sanhedrin. They had the ear and the confidence of the high priest and came today at his request. Ananias bid them all come in and sit down.
“Thank you for coming, my friends,” Ananias began. “I asked you here because there has been a critical change in fortune regarding Paul of Tarsus.”
“He has died?” asked Bezial.
“Not yet, Bezial, but keep praying,” Ananias said. The men laughed.
“I pray constantly for his death,” Bezial affirmed.
“I like Bezial,” said Rugio to Nathan. “He has murder in his heart. He’s the one I can approach with this.”
“Agreed,” said Nathan. “And this is the perfect time.”
Rugio moved next to Bezial and stood behind him. “Now let’s see how things develop. Before we’re done here, Paul will be finished.”
“As you know, Felix has been replaced by the new governor, Porcius Festus,” Ananias continued. “He is here in Jerusalem and has proven quite accommodating. I intend to ask him to bring Paul to Jerusalem for trial.”
“Finally!” John responded. “Do you think he will?”
“Possibly,” Ananias answered. “It seems Rome is quite anxious that the peace be maintained in this troublesome province. Festus is eager to cooperate.”
“Suppose Paul never made it to Jerusalem?” Rugio spoke into Bezial’s mind.
Ananias glanced at the strange look on Bezial’s face. “What is it Bezial? What are you thinking about?”
“What if something happened on the way down? It’s quite a distance…”
“Just thinking,” Bezial said. “How nice it would be if Paul met with an accident on the journey down. That would save us all a lot of trouble.”
The men laughed. Ananias looked at Bezial. “You’re serious?”
“I am.”
“You could arrange it.”
“Give me your permission,” Bezial said. “And I can assure you that Paul will never make it to Jerusalem. Why risk a trial if he can be punished beforehand?”
Ananias looked at the others. “You speak of murder. We can have no part in Paul’s death. It is too obvious.”
“Ananias need not take part in this…”
“I’ll arrange everything,” Bezial said. “He will be ambushed along the way, and it will appear as if a band of marauders took his life.”
“My lord!” came a voice.
“I am in council,” Ananias said. “What is it?”
“A message. From Porcius Festus.”
Ananias smiled at the others. “This is Festus’ answer. And if Bezial is right, it is also Paul’s death sentence!”
The priest took the message from his aide’s hand and unrolled it. As he read, his face turned from upbeat to downcast. He handed the message to the others. It read:
My dear Ananias,
I have been considering your request. As you know, this man Paul is being held at Caesarea, and I myself am going there soon. Let some of your leaders come with me and press charges against the man there, if he has done anything wrong.
P. Festus
Bezial crumpled the message and threw it to the floor. He looked at the others with a disgusted scowl. “How can we get at this man!? It’s as if the angels themselves watch over him!”
Rugio and Nathan were just as dumbfounded at the news. Neither relished having to report this to Lucifer.
“How can we get to this man?” Rugio said to Nathan, mimicking Bezial’s voice perfectly. “It’s as if the angels themselves watch over him!”
Nathan laughed. “And so they do,” he said.
“I long for Eden,” Rugio said.
“I have done nothing wrong against the law of the Jews or against the Temple or against Caesar.”
Paul stood once more in front of Ananias and several other accusers in Caesarea. He was amazed at the tenacity of these men who were bent on destroying him. Even in this circumstance, there was a part of him that ached at seeing Israel so blinded to the truth of the Messiah. These men—the shepherds of Israel—had turned their back on the very One the nation had always anticipated. Now they were determined to stop the work he had begun.
“I am innocent in these charges,” Paul said.
Festus looked at the group of Jews who had arrived in Caesarea a few days earlier. His inclination as a man was to believe Paul. He could tell that these priests, who he found himself liking less and less, were no different from the political instigators who surrounded the emperor in Rome. But as an agent of the emperor, he was bound by duty to act in Rome’s best interests.
“Are you willing to go up to Jerusalem and stand trial before me there on these charges?” Festus asked Paul.
“Is he willing?” Ananias asked. “What difference does it make if he is willing or not? He has been in Caesarea for two years. Pardon, honorable Festus, but a friend of the Jews would not give this man any more choices in the matter.”
“I am a friend of Rome,” Festus said. “And so, Paul, I repeat the question: will you stand trial in Jerusalem?”
“Governor, in as much as you are Rome, I feel that I am standing trial now—under Roman authority. You yourself know that I have committed no crime against any nation. But if I have committed a crime against Rome, I am willing to stand trial—even willing to pay with my life if necessary.”
“You wish to be tried in a Roman court?”
“I will not subject myself to these men whose only ambition is to destroy me for no crime,” Paul said. “Therefore, as a citizen of Rome, I appeal this matter to the emperor. I will appeal to Caesar.”
A loud murmur went up among the priests. They quickly conferred, and Tertullus stepped out from among them. “This man should be released to us immediately,” he said. “This is a Jewish matter—not a Roman affair.”
“He has appealed to Caesar,” Festus said. “It is no longer in my hands. He will go to Caesar.”
Paul’s decision not only created a buzz among the priests, but also among the angels who were present—both those who were supportive and those who were opposed to Paul. Serus turned to Michael and Crispin. They had witnessed the hearing, certain that Paul was on his way to Jerusalem to stand trial. He wondered about the decision of Paul to go to Rome.
“It is his destiny,” said Crispin. “Remember that the Lord Himself told Paul that he must go to Rome. He is merely expediting this.”
“He’ll find a very different spirit in Rome,” Michael said.
On the other side of the room, Rugio and Pellecus smiled at Michael’s assertion.
“Indeed, he’ll find a different spirit in Rome,” Pellecus said. “All he has done is delay his destruction.”
“Perhaps the Most High has other plans for Paul,” said Crispin.
The three holy angels followed
as Paul was escorted out of the room. Pellecus turned to Rugio.
“What if he is correct?” Rugio asked. “Maybe Paul is destined to see the emperor. What if the emperor is taken in by this teaching?”
Pellecus smiled.
“Paul is truly a convincing man,” he said. “If the emperor were an ordinary man, I would say we should be wary.” Pellecus walked to the window and looked over the waters of the blue Mediterranean toward Rome. “But the emperor is no ordinary man. He is a monster.”
Chapter Fourteen
ROMAN DESTINY
Chronicles of the Host
Rome
Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus, called Nero, had become one of Lucifer’s greatest achievements. Not since Herod the Great had the Host witnessed such a paranoid and perverse man. After taking power at the age of 17, Nero spent the first few years of his reign under the influence of Seneca, a noble man who helped him govern fairly and wisely.
But little by little, Lucifer had fanned the lusts that resided in his heart; now, after eight years as emperor, he had secured his throne through intimidation and force. His ambition for Rome knew no boundaries, and he secretly longed for the day when he would rebuild the magnificent city and rename it Neropolis—the city of Nero. It was this vain and profane man to whom Paul appealed his case. We all waited with great anticipation for the day when the might of Rome would meet the man of God…
It felt good to be at sea again. Paul’s previous two years in Caesarea had created a longing to get away from the nation that bore him but rejected him. As the coastline disappeared, Paul looked at Judea for what he guessed was his last time. It was a bittersweet moment for him, knowing that his people continued to live in a darkness as black as the coastline that was now fading in the distance.
Julius, a centurion of the Imperial Regiment, who was in charge of all of the prisoners on board, including Paul, was speaking with the captain. Paul’s companions were not prisoners, but had asked to accompany Paul to Rome. Paul’s party included Luke, his Greek friend, and a man named Aristarchus, a Macedonian from Thessalonica. Julius was drinking from a wine glass and wandered over to where Paul stood with Luke.
“For a Jew you have many Gentile friends,” Julius said. “I thought that was forbidden in your religion.”
“Only in man’s religion,” Paul said. “God has no boundaries in His love for all men—Jew or Gentile.”
“Even Romans?” Julius asked, smiling.
“Of course He loves Romans,” Paul said. “That’s why He is sending me to Rome.”
Julius laughed heartily at Paul’s response. “I’m sure the emperor will be gratified that you are coming to the aid of the empire! But seriously, Paul. You must be careful. The intrigue in Jerusalem is fool’s play compared to the webs of political ambition in Rome. Remember, everything in Rome is personal.”
“Then I am in a good spot,” said Paul. “For I have no personal stake in this!”
“Paul may not have a personal stake in this, but I certainly do,” Lucifer said. The other angels snickered at the comment. They were watching Paul’s ship from a distance. Lucifer had decided that Paul must not reach Rome and called together his three most trusted advisors to help in this final effort.
“The truth is that we all have a personal stake in this,” Lucifer continued. “If Rome is affected by the Church, the entire empire will be marginalized.”
“Yes; Peter has been meddling in Rome for two years now,” noted Pellecus. “If the two of them are working together in Rome, it will be a dangerous combination for us.”
“Paul must not reach Rome,” Lucifer asserted.
“But what if he does?” Kara asked. “We haven’t been able to stop him yet.”
“If Paul makes it to Rome, he has appealed to Caesar,” Lucifer said. “I think he’ll discover that clever words will not impress Nero.”
Lucifer looked at the skies. “What was it Jesus said? ‘When evening comes, you say, “It will be fair weather, for the sky is red,” and in the morning, “Today it will be stormy, for the sky is red and overcast.” You know how to interpret the appearance of the sky, but you cannot interpret the signs of the times.’”
“Meaning?”
“It’s a long way from here to Rome,” Lucifer said. “And I have my own interpretation of the weather.” He looked at Rugio. “We once devastated Job with a storm. We have wreaked havoc with nature. Surely we can cause the disappearance of one tiny vessel?”
Rugio nodded his head in agreement.
“When the time is right, Rugio,” Lucifer said. “When the time is right.”
After many days hugging the coast of Asia, Paul and the other prisoners were transferred to an Alexandrian ship bound for Italy. The centurion believed that this ship might make better time as the winds had been fighting them the whole trip. But the ship faced the same winds and had difficulty holding its course. The captain and crew had a decision to make: stay here in Fair Haven or push on and winter in Phoenix, on the island of Crete. An impromptu meeting took place on the deck.
“I am losing money,” said Gaius, the ship’s owner. “I hired you to take this cargo to Italy. The closer we are to Rome when we winter, the better.”
The captain looked at his crew.
“You also hired me to get everyone on board there safely,” said the captain, whose name was Lucus. “I’ll make the final decision.”
“Then decide,” Gaius said. “I’m nervous enough with these prisoners on board.”
“You’re being paid for their passage,” the centurion said. “I’ll see to them.”
As the men pored over the charts of the known trade routes, Paul stood back watching them. Luke slid next to him. “Now we’re cargo,” Luke said, eliciting a smile from the ever-pensive apostle.
“And quite valuable,” Paul added. “They are discussing whether or not to push on to a different harbor on Crete.”
“Well, this harbor certainly isn’t suitable,” Luke said. “We have to winter somewhere.”
Paul nodded in agreement. Luke wandered to another part of the ship, leaving Paul to his thoughts. Paul watched some birds, amused at their persistence in following the little ship this far from land. If only the Church maintained that sort of determination in pursuing the things of God!
“Paul.”
Paul looked around and saw that Luke was on the other side of the ship. Nobody else was around.
“Paul.”
“Yes, Lord,” Paul said, recognizing that the Spirit of God was speaking to him.
“You must listen to Me…”
“My friends, may I say something?” Paul asked. “I have something to tell you about your plans.”
“You? You’re a prisoner,” said one sailor.
“This is business,” said Gaius. “Not theology.”
The centurion looked into Paul’s eyes. “Lucus, this man is honorable, prisoner though he may be. I have seen him over these past two years; I would hear him out, Gaius.”
Gaius sighed and motioned Paul over. “Go ahead, prisoner.”
“If you push on to the other side of Crete our voyage is going to be disastrous and bring great loss to ship and cargo, and to our own lives also.”
The crew grumbled at the foreboding words. Some of them cursed Paul for inviting misfortune upon their journey. Others scoffed at the notion that this priest could know anything about such things. A sailor looked at the sky.
“It looks like clear weather to me,” he said.
“Paul, what makes you say such a thing?” the centurion asked.
“The Lord told me that this would happen.” It took just a couple of seconds before some of the men burst out in laughter. After several minutes of catcalling and revelry at Paul’s expense, the centurion spoke to Paul. “Thank you, Paul. I’m sure your God means well, but He is, after all, a land god. These men know the sea. Lucus! What do you say?”
“The wind seems fair,” the captain answered. “The weather is good.”
/> “I agree,” said the centurion. “We push on to Phoenix!”
Paul shook his head. He walked over to Luke. “I warned them,” he said.
Luke looked at the blue sky. “I heard you. But I have to tell you, Paul. For once, I hope you heard wrong.”
Paul smiled at his friend. “Me too.”
Chronicles of the Host
Storm at Sea
Rugio, along with the thousands of angels under his command, quickly summoned the winds and rain and created havoc in the sea. We, Paul’s protectors, wanted to act, but as this had been prophesied, we were not allowed to interfere. The little ship was tossed violently back and forth for several days. The assault by Rugio was relentless, and we were amazed that the ship held together with so many spirits attempting to tear it apart. Relief finally came in the form of a word delivered to Paul by the angel who had been with him all along…
The men had given up hope of controlling their ship. Their only goal was staying alive. They had even thrown away the precious cargo that the owner had so meticulously seen carried on board piece by piece in Alexandria. Paul had long ago determined that to die and be with the Lord was an advantage, so he was prepared when the time came. More than prepared. In fact, death was by now preferable to the incessant battering that the ship was enduring.
“Paul! Paul!”
Paul looked up, his eyes bleary from the wind and rain. A man stood there. Tall and imposing. The figure startled Paul.
“Do not be afraid, Paul. You must stand trial before Caesar; and God has graciously given you the lives of all who sail with you.”
As quickly as he appeared and spoke, the messenger disappeared. Paul rubbed his eyes and looked again—but the figure was gone. Paul looked up into the swirling blackness and gave thanks to God. They were going to make it after all!
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