by Tim LaHaye
Mark chuckled. “So do I. I pray I will be able to read my own handwriting tomorrow.”
“There is not much more,” Peter said, “so let me finish. I will tell what happened right up to when Jesus sent us to follow you to your home, for you yourself were eyewitness to the rest. You must write that, and then I will peruse it.”
“Very well. If you are sure you are up to continuing.”
“Two days later Passover began and the Feast of Unleavened Bread. The Lord told us that He knew the chief priests and the scribes were devising how they might take Him by trickery and put Him to death, but they knew better than to do it during the feast, lest there be an uproar of the people.
“Now, Mark, let me tell you of something which occurred a few days before that, on the previous Saturday. We were in Bethany at the house of Simon, a leper Jesus had healed. He was treating us to a generous meal as an expression of his gratitude. Jesus’ friends, Lazarus and his sisters—Mary and Martha—were there from their nearby home, the women helping serve.
“As Jesus sat at the table, Mary brought an alabaster flask of very costly oil of spikenard. She broke the flask and poured it on His head. Sadly, there were some among us who were indignant and agreed with Judas Iscariot when he said, ‘Why was this fragrant oil wasted? It might have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor.’ Others also criticized her sharply.
“But Jesus said, ‘Let her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a good work for Me. For you have the poor with you always, and whenever you wish you may do them good; but Me you do not have always. She has done what she could. She has come beforehand to anoint My body for burial. Assuredly, I say to you, wherever this gospel is preached in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be told as a memorial to her.’”
“I have heard you tell that story when you preach,” Mark said.
“Yes, and I often remind my hearers that at the time I did not know what Jesus meant about His burial.
“We learned later that this was the very night when Judas went to the chief priests and offered to betray Jesus to them for thirty pieces of silver. And when they heard it they were glad and promised the money.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Mark spent the next few years preaching, teaching, discipling, and traveling from Rome to various cities throughout Asia Minor and even Egypt, laboring with both Peter and Paul. All the while he carefully penned his gospel of Jesus Christ, according to the personal memories of Peter, of course, and Peter carefully studied the documents, clarifying, adjusting, correcting.
Mark then primarily traveled with Paul for a few years, because Peter expressed a deep loneliness for his wife, and Paul urged him to send for her.
“Your children are grown, and others are running the fishing business, are they not?”
“They are.”
“Then are you not free to have her with you? I know her to be devout and industrious, and she will be of great help to you.”
Peter was soon a new man, invigorated and seeming more youthful than he had in years. It was plain that Esther admired and respected him, besides sharing his passion for the spread of the gospel. He preached, Mark knew, for the Lord and for the hearts and souls of the listeners, but he seemed more animated with Esther in the audience. Peter exulted that she also offered helpful suggestions, which might have threatened him coming from anyone else.
Peter commended Mark to the believers in the city of Colossi, and for a few years Mark served as their pastor and bishop. It was during this time that word came to him concerning Paul’s arrest in Jerusalem and his imprisonment in Caesarea. Fellow Jews had accused him of defiling the temple by including Gentile Christians, and to rally Rome to their side, they revealed that he refused to recognize Roman deities. The news spread that Paul was appealing to Rome that, because of his citizenship there, he should be allowed to defend himself before the emperor.
Peter and Esther were abroad, ministering to churches throughout the world and establishing new ones, and Mark felt compelled to replace himself at the church in Colossi. He did not know where God would lead him next, but he wanted to be ready, especially if he could somehow aid Paul. The man had proved a tireless, effective, and brilliant apologist for Christianity, and even despite his many trials and imprisonments, he continued to write to believers and argue for the faith.
As Mark finished his work in Colossi and tried to shepherd in the new leadership before his departure, he waited anxiously, sometimes for weeks at a time, for news of his beloved compatriots. One evening an aide delivered a scroll. “Master,” the young woman said, “a messenger brought this from Antioch.”
An old acquaintance of Mark’s and a protégé of Barnabas, young Ignatius, had recently been installed as the new head of the church there.
The woman took her leave and Mark sat to read.
My dear brother, John Mark:
It is with a heavy heart that I greet you in the matchless name of Jesus the Christ, in whom we have been bestowed all things in the heavenlies. I have just been brought awful news, and it falls to me to bear it on to you. Your beloved cousin, Joses, whom we all came to know as Barnabas for his most generous spirit, has met his end.
The worst of it is that his death occurred in his hometown, Salamis on Cyprus, while he was there holding forth the truth of the gospel of salvation through Jesus Christ. Local Jews took offense and stoned him to death. The best of it is that your loved one fulfilled the highest calling a servant of God can attain. He was martyred for the cause of the gospel, an achievement we should all strive to achieve.
I regret to say that though I know you would want to make the sojourn here for his memorial, the body has already been disposed of, and according to tradition we felt it only right to have already officially honored him.
In your grief you may take comfort in knowing that—largely due to the ministry of your cousin—I have inherited here some of the finest young students and servants of Christ I could wish for. As they boldly carry the torch he bore for his lifetime, his influence will be felt here and abroad for as long as men and women remember his name.
Be assured that the prayers and condolences and best wishes of all the believers here attend you during this time of mourning on the one hand for the loss of your loved one, and rejoicing on the other for his life, his service, and his new home with the One with whom he so longed to reunite.
The beloved apostle John, who visited here briefly a fortnight ago, sends his greetings and sympathy as well.
With deep affection and love in Christ, the Messiah, I remain your friend,
Ignatius
Bishop of Antioch
Soon word came from Paul himself requesting that Mark meet him in Rome. The message—surprising in that it came from the apostle while en route to Italy in chains—informed Mark that the invitation came not only with the approval and blessing of Peter, but also with the news that Peter and Esther would be returning to Rome.
Mark, you and Peter have both been wonderful friends and great comrades in the work, and now I fear I have need of you more than ever. I pray that my appeal to Rome will result in my freedom and the ability to again minister to the saints there. But should it result in a sentence for me, you and Peter and his wife will be all the more critical to the work of the gospel in Rome.
Who else but Paul could be transported from Jerusalem to Caesarea and all the way to Rome, using all manner of contrivance, in chains, shipwrecked, nearly deserted, and bound for a hearing that might result in his death, and yet have such influence on his guards that they allowed him to correspond with his friends all over the world?
Mark officially installed the new leadership in Colossi and made his way to Rome even before Peter and Esther arrived. When the couple joined him, finding modest lodging through local believers, they worked together closely, planning for Paul’s arrival and intending to support him in whatever way they could—short of exposing the church to further harassment from Rome.<
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One morning a messenger arrived at a church where Mark had just finished teaching and told him Peter had beckoned. Mark hurried to Peter’s abode, where Esther met him with a smile and a cup. Peter’s face bore a mixture of bemusement and amusement. “Only Paul,” was all he could say, handing Mark a scroll from the prisoner’s own hand.
“It begins with his customary greetings and other details, which you can read later. Start here, where he tells of the voyage.”
When it was decided that we should sail to Italy, I was delivered with other prisoners to Julius, a centurion of the Augustan Regiment. We put out to sea, meaning to sail along the coasts of Asia. When we landed at Sidon, Julius treated me kindly and allowed me to visit friends there and receive care.
When we had put to sea from there, we sailed under the shelter of Cyprus, because the winds were contrary. And when we had sailed over the sea which is off Cilicia and Pamphylia, we came to Myra, a city of Lycia. There Julius found an Alexandrian ship sailing to Italy. With us the ship totaled 276 passengers.
Sailing was now dangerous because of the season, so I advised Julius that I perceived the voyage would end with disaster and much loss, not only of the cargo and ship, but also our lives.
But Julius was persuaded by the helmsman and the owner of the ship that the harbor was not suitable to winter in, and most on board agreed we should set sail from there for Phoenix, a harbor of Crete opening toward the southwest and northwest, and try to winter there. A soft south wind blew, so, supposing that they had obtained their desire, they put out to sea and sailed close by Crete. But not long after, a terrible east wind arose, and the ship was caught.
Unable to head into the wind, they ran under the shelter of an island called Clauda. When in the driving storm they had pulled the dinghy skiff on board and secured it, they used cables to undergird the ship. Fearing they should run aground, they lowered the sails and so were driven by the wind. And because we were exceedingly tempest-tossed, the next day they threw overboard anything they could do without.
Neither sun nor stars appeared for many days, and no small tempest beat on us, so we gave up all hope that we would be saved. But after long abstinence from food, I stood in the midst of them and said, “Men, you should have listened to me and not sailed from Crete. But now I urge you to take heart, for there will be no loss of life among you, but only of the ship. For there stood by me this night an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I serve, saying, ‘Do not be afraid, Paul; you must be brought before Caesar; and indeed God has granted you all those who sail with you.’ Therefore take heart, men, for I believe God that it will be just as it was told me. However, we must run aground on a certain island.”
Now when the fourteenth night had come, as we were driven up and down in the Adriatic Sea, about midnight the sailors sensed that they were drawing near land. And they took soundings and found the depth to be twenty fathoms; and when they had gone a little farther, they took soundings again and found it to be fifteen fathoms. Then, fearing lest we should run aground on the rocks, they dropped four anchors from the stern and prayed for day to come.
I noticed that the sailors had let down the skiff into the sea under pretense of putting out anchors from the prow, so I told Julius and his soldiers, “Unless these men stay in the ship, you cannot be saved.” So the soldiers cut the ropes of the skiff and let it fall off.
As day was about to dawn, I said, “Today is the fourteenth day you have waited and continued without food. Therefore I urge you to take nourishment.” I took bread and gave thanks to God in the presence of them all; and when I had broken it I began to eat. Then they were all encouraged, and also took food themselves.
When it was day, they did not recognize the land, but they observed a bay with a beach, onto which they planned to run the ship if possible. They let go the anchors and left them in the sea, meanwhile loosing the rudder ropes; and they hoisted the mainsail to the wind and made for shore. But striking a place where two seas met, they ran the ship aground; and the prow stuck fast and remained immovable, but the stern was being broken up by the violence of the waves.
I knew the soldiers planned to kill us prisoners, lest any of us should swim away and escape. But Julius, wanting to save me, commanded that those who could swim should jump overboard first and get to land, and the rest should float on boards and parts of the ship. And so it was that we all escaped safely to land.
We found that the island was called Malta, and the people there showed us unusual kindness. They kindled a fire and made us all welcome, despite the cold rain. When I gathered a bundle of sticks and laid them on the fire, a viper came out because of the heat and fastened onto my hand. When the people saw it they said, “No doubt this man is a murderer, whom, though he has escaped the sea, yet justice does not allow to live.”
But I shook off the creature into the fire and suffered no harm. I’m sure they expected that I would swell up or suddenly fall dead. But after they saw no harm come to me, they changed their minds and said I was a god.
In that region sat the estate of the leading citizen of the island, Publius, who received us and entertained us courteously for three days. It happened that his father lay sick of a fever and dysentery. I went in to him and prayed and laid hands on him and healed him. When word of this spread, the rest of those on the island who had diseases also came and were healed.
They also honored us in many ways; and when we departed, they provided such things as were necessary. After three months we sailed in an Alexandrian ship which had wintered at the island. And landing at Syracuse on Sicily, we stayed three days.
From there we circled round and reached Rhegium on the southern tip of Italy. And after one day the south wind blew; and the next day we came to Puteoli, the great port where we witnessed the offloading of the Egyptian grain fleets. Here we also found brethren and have been invited to stay with them seven days. I shall send this missive to you from here, informing you that I expect to arrive in Rome soon after this finds you.
Julius, who has become a friend, has informed me that while the other prisoners will be delivered to the captain of the guard, he has arranged for me to stay in private quarters with only the guard who has been with me on the trip. My hope is that they will let me rent the space and be allowed to come and go freely, but that will depend on the success of my defense.
“So he’s close by,” Mark said.
“Or he will be soon. We must see if we can welcome him, but you understand the danger.”
“That we will be identified as fellow believers? I will proudly associate with him.”
“You know what they are calling us now, Mark.”
“Of course. The Nazarene sect. And that we are.”
MARK MADE IT his mission to discover the whereabouts of Julius, and through him was able to greet the apostle in his private chambers. Peter and Esther came later, and the guard assigned to Paul paid them no mind.
Paul looked older and more haggard, no surprise after all he had endured. But he was clearly regarded as little threat to the empire, at least for now. While he awaited the court date for his defense before Caesar, he plotted with Mark and Peter how he could call the leaders of the Jews together. “If you could somehow summon them, I have much to discuss with them.”
It took Mark three days, but he was able to deliver the invitation to the Jewish leaders, and he was there when they came together in Paul’s small dwelling. Paul thanked them for coming and said, “Men and brethren, though I have done nothing against our race or the customs of our fathers, yet I have been sent here, delivered as a prisoner from Jerusalem into the hands of the Romans. When they examined me they wanted to let me go, because they found no cause for putting me to death. But when the Jews spoke against me, I was compelled to appeal to Caesar. I am accusing my race of nothing; I merely desire to be acquitted.
“For this reason therefore I have called for you, to see you and speak with you, because for the hope of Israel—the coming of Jesus as the
Messiah and the resurrection of the dead—I am bound with these chains.”
Mark recognized that everyone in the room understood the obvious: that the Nazarenes were lumped with the Jews in the eyes of the Romans. Both groups were considered seditious, lazy, rebellious, and pagan, as neither bowed to Caesar or the Roman gods. It seemed, however, that as long as they didn’t become rabble-rousers, they would be largely ignored. Only when they turned on one another and exposed one another to authorities did persecution result. Paul was, in essence, pleading his case to his Jewish counterparts so he would not suffer in Rome what he had in Jerusalem.
The leaders of the Roman Jews said, “We neither received letters from Judea concerning you, nor have any of the brethren who came reported or spoken any evil of you. But we desire to hear from you what you think; for concerning this sect of yours, we know that it is spoken against everywhere.”
Mark knew Paul had to find it as hard as he did to believe that Jewish leaders in Rome would not be more aware of the Christians among them. But Paul thanked them for their interest and curiosity and offered to answer whatever questions they or their colleagues had. And they settled on another date when even more could be present.
