Empire's End (21 page)

I knew immediately I should not, in the future, anticipate wherever I went the sort of welcome I received at Judas' home. Surely such warmth was not what God had been warning me about daily in the wilderness, predicting persecution and hardship. For not only was I greeted with affectionate embraces and smiles and even adulation from Judas and Ananias about how healthy I appeared, but the same came from a dozen others of the brothers and sisters I so fondly recalled.

“Wherever God called you was good for you!” Ananias said. “You must tell us about it!”

“Yes! Yes!” the others chorused, but Judas quieted them.

“This is not all of us,” he said, taking my bag and expressing surprise
that it was all I had brought. “This evening more will join us, including many unbelievers.”

“Unbelievers!” I said, unable to hide my excitement.

Judas pointed to Ananias. “This one has been listening to the Lord again.”

“It's true,” Ananias said. “God told me the time has been accomplished that you are to fulfill His call upon you when He met you on the road.”

“I have so much to tell you,” I said.

I spent much of the afternoon regaling them with the story of all that had transpired since Ananias and the owners of the home on the wall lowered me to freedom in the basket.

“That couple will be here tonight,” Judas said, “along with others from their gathering.”

I told of Theo, the ride, the enclave, and the family who took me in—even their relationship to the martyr Stephen. But I did not tell that the widow and I had fallen in love.

I recounted much of what God had taught me and of the precious times in the wilderness. They gasped and wept with me at the account of the betrayal and the massacre, and when I told of the kidnapping of Taryn and Corydon, I shared my vow to track down General Balbus, not that I had any indication from the Lord what I was to do then.

As time drew near for the evening meal, we discussed what I should talk about when the greater group assembled later. I told them I would need time alone with the Lord and that He would guide me, but I had but one message: my own story and how it proved Jesus was the Son of God, the Messiah, the Savior, who died to take away the sins of the world.

Ananias and Judas laid hands on me, and most everyone prayed. Then Ananias pronounced a blessing.

Though more than a month had passed since the deaths of so many
of my friends, when I was allowed privacy, grief washed over me anew from retelling the awfulness of that day. I pulled from my bag the precious note from Taryn and through my tears prayed God would allow me to set aside my longing, at least for that evening, for the sake of His glory so I could point my listeners to Him. Mostly I thanked Him for the privilege of speaking in His name.

After a quiet supper we sang hymns and prayed for those who were coming, and after dark they began to appear, singly, in pairs, and in small groups. Old acquaintances tenderly hailed me and cordially introduced me to curious newcomers.

When my hosts were satisfied that all they expected had arrived, Judas introduced me by simply saying that he had a guest who had traveled a long distance because he had something important to say.

As had been my custom when I presented addresses on behalf of the Sanhedrin, I had run through my remarks many times in my mind. It had been years since I'd been nervous before speaking. I had always mastered my topic and knew exactly what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it.

The last time I'd been in Damascus I had spoken with such passion and fervor that I didn't have the time or inclination to worry about my presentation. Now, especially with unbelievers as part of my audience, I began wishing I had written out my address. But God had told me He would give me utterance, even if I were called before kings and princes.

Still, as Judas was introducing me, I could not calm my heart or slow my breathing. “His name is Paul, and he has a most interesting story.”

I smiled and tried to appear at ease, but I was certain I was fooling no one.

“Paul is a much different person today from who he was just a few years ago.”

I nodded as I began to rise, but the hem of my tunic caught under one sandal.

“I will let him tell you all about it.”

As I stood, my tunic popped from under my foot and I had to hop to keep my balance. Those around me thrust out their hands, either to steady me or to keep me from falling on them, and I laughed at myself. I was embarrassed, but as soon as I faced the thirty or so gathered there, I felt as peaceful and at ease as if I were speaking to the Lord Himself. It struck me that this was a divine assignment, that it had nothing whatever to do with me and everything to do with Jesus. I had one task, to lift up His name.

I would tell my own story, because it was the most direct way to describe who Jesus was and how He could miraculously change a person.

“About three years ago,” I said, “I was third in line to the high priest at the Temple in Jerusalem.” As I told of having studied under Gamaliel, being a Pharisee of Pharisees, a Roman citizen, and eventually a zealot for God who saw believers in Jesus and followers of The Way as enemies of the one true religion of Israel, something else was going on in my head at the same time.

It had always fascinated me that a person could concentrate so diligently on his speech while thinking of something else entirely, but I didn't expect it to happen when I was preaching. Yet as I was establishing my unique credentials to make the point of what kind of a man God had chosen to bring the message of Christ to both Jew and Gentile, I noticed someone in the room who was clearly out of place.

I knew all the believers, of course—at least I recognized their faces. For one thing, they were Jews I had fellowshipped with in gatherings of followers of The Way after I had been converted. The other guests were strangers—I assumed friends or neighbors, perhaps even fellow attendees of the synagogues of these believers in Jesus. All the while I was speaking,
I carefully kept them in mind and worked to couch my phrases and arguments to best persuade them.

In the back by the wall, directly in the center of the room, sat a man perhaps five years my senior with large, pleasant, gray eyes looking me directly in the face, frequently smiling and nodding at my every point. I wracked my brain to recall how he had been introduced. Joseph, I thought Ananias had said. And I believed he said the man was from Cyprus. Joseph of Cyprus.

What I hadn't noticed until now, however, was that he was a Levite, for I could tell by his attire. What was a Cypriot Levite doing here? He couldn't have been a threat, as Ananias knew him by name.

Every time I looked at him, he raised a brow or appeared even more interested than he had the moment before. I found myself speaking as if to him alone.

My story was dramatic, and I had a flare for eliciting emotion in an audience, so I was careful not to exaggerate my tale. The details had to speak for themselves. I was not the hero of this saga. I reached the point where the young, passionate Stephen had had the gall to challenge the revered Sanhedrin council to their faces about their hypocrisy.

“Imagine their outrage!” I said. “And if
they
weren't insulted, I was insulted for them. How dare he? Who did he think he was, in our house of worship, not even a guest but himself charged with blasphemy, adding more to his offense?”

I took my listeners with me out of the great chamber as I led the venerated men of God against the impudent upstart, stirring them, appealing to their pride, holding their cloaks to make it easy for them to do the right thing.

“But the righteous death of that insurrectionist was not enough for me. If my superiors were impressed with that, I asked for the authority to
keep the rest of those charlatans from spreading this heresy! I said, ‘Issue me papers, give me men, grant me authority, and send me to Damascus where they're infiltrating the synagogues.'”

I told of the band of choice men awarded me by the high priest himself, “and the documents that allowed me access to every temple in this very city, where I planned to make a spectacle of rousting out every vestige of The Way and its pathetic rebels.”

By the time I got to the light blinding me on the road and my horse throwing me to the rocky ground, everyone in the room was with me, especially the newcomers. The Levite's bright eyes shone with tears.

I told of the voice asking why I was persecuting Him, of my asking who He was, of His saying He was Jesus of Nazareth. “In that instant my world changed. I had believed that Jesus was an impostor who was now dead. There was no time to wonder, to question, to make sense of what was happening. Jesus was speaking to me. That light was the light of God, and it permeated my soul.

“I said, ‘What shall I do, Lord?'”

And I stopped. Everyone sat waiting. The newcomers, interspersed with their friends, seemed as rapt as the rest. I let the tension hang in the air. Finally I said, “Do you know what Jesus said to me? Do you know?”

Some shook their heads. One said, “What?”

“Jesus said, ‘Rise and stand, for I have appeared to you to make you a minister and a witness both of the things which you have seen and of the things which I will yet reveal to you.'

“Can you imagine? Men and women, I was blind! The Lord, the One I had been persecuting, Jesus, the Man who had been put to death on the cross and was now in heaven, told me to rise and stand! What would you do?”

“Rise and stand!” one said.

“Yes, you would!” I said. “And yes, I did! Now, listen to what He said next: ‘I will deliver you from the Jewish people'—those are my own, you understand—‘as well as from the Gentiles'—can you imagine? Hear this: ‘To whom I now send you, to open their eyes, in order to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins. Now go into Damascus, and there you will be told all things which are appointed for you to do.'”

I paused again and looked expectantly at everyone. “So I did what any of you would have done. I obeyed.” I told them of my three days of blindness, of my encounter with Ananias, of our mutual visions, his restoring my sight and filling me with the Holy Spirit.

“And then I was sent away for three years, where God prepared me to do just what He said he was going to send me to do. And here I am. And here you are. He turned me from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God that I might receive forgiveness of sins. That's what I offer you through Christ.

“Jesus died for your sins, was buried, and rose again the third day. Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved.”

My brothers and sisters of The Way wept and prayed. The Levite buried his face in his hands. Several of the new people glared at me. More of them looked terrified. One, sitting at my feet, prostrated himself on the floor and cried out, “I want to be saved!” As I knelt to pray with him another joined us. Several others stormed out.

About half the guests waited until I had finished praying and talking with the two, and then they shook my hand and thanked me before leaving. One said I should be very careful because some who left angry might cause trouble for me. I was not worried for myself, but I didn't want to bring danger upon Judas' home—especially after what my mere presence had
brought upon the enclave at Yanbu. I had deliberately caused mayhem to believers before Jesus confronted me. I would spend the rest of my life repenting of that.

The exhilaration of my first experience preaching the gospel after three years in the wilderness was tempered by the fear that the persecution the Lord had predicted for me would be this curse—that I would be the reason many of my beloved friends would die. It was right that I should suffer for the violence I had committed in my former life. Yes, I knew I had been forgiven and that I stood before God innocent because of His grace and mercy and the miracle of the cross. That didn't mean I wouldn't bear the scars of regret and remorse. Families had been destroyed at my hands—even the family of the woman I loved.

But must I now face this prospect, that wherever I went and no matter how faithfully I served, regardless how willing I was to pour myself out in the service of Christ, I would bring upon the households of all I came into contact with the blight of peril, the threat of death? I had been the reason for the bloodbath at Yanbu. Would I now be the cause of the same in Damascus? God forbid! The last thing I wanted was to have to keep a tally, comparing the number lost to the number brought to faith.

Ananias told the new converts they were welcome to come back, and some of the others asked if they could return, too. When they were gone and only the followers of The Way remained, I noticed the Cypriot was still there. “Ananias,” I said, “tell me more about your friend.”

“Oh, I will,” he said. “He's staying at my home tonight. As you are. And you'll be leaving for Jerusalem with him tomorrow.”

Was there no end to the surprises? My new life had been one adventure after another, and I couldn't deny that appealed to me. I knew I was headed to Jerusalem, but tomorrow? And with this man? “I thought you said he had come from Cyprus,” I said.

“I said he was from there. I sent for him from Jerusalem, where he has been ministering with the apostles.”

“You sent for him?”

“Someone has to introduce you to them. They are certainly not about to lend you an ear on my say-so.”

“They don't trust you?”

Ananias smiled. “They have been very good to me and to our fledgling churches and gatherings. But we are fairly new to all this, Paul. They heard the stories of what supposedly happened to you here three years ago—”

“Supposedly?”

“Paul, would
you
have believed that story if it hadn't happened to you? God Himself had to convince me. In fact when He told me to come and minister to you, I argued with Him! Can you imagine that? For the first time in my life, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob speaks to me personally, gives me an assignment, and I take it upon myself to explain to Him why He must have mistaken you for someone else!