I, Saul (37 page)

I had long been an early riser, but now I began waking before dawn every day and rarely going to bed before midnight. I was filled with purpose. The acts of the Jesus followers flew in the face of everything I had ever been taught. These people were enemies of God, enemies of His law, blasphemers, deserving the ultimate punishment.

I hounded Nathanael daily until I wore him down, persuading him to personally seek a private audience for me with the high priest, Caiaphas. When it was granted, I pleaded with Caiaphas to extend to me the authority of the

Sanhedrin itself. “As long as these men proclaim a dead man the Messiah, I won't rest until they are brought to justice. What deliverer would be put to death in such a vile manner? You did right by having them beaten for disobedience, but it didn't stop them. Their blasphemy has escalated.”

Caiaphas was strangely quiet, but I sensed he was impressed with my zeal. “I would have to discuss this with my father-in-law,” he said, referring to the Roman-deposed Annas, whom everyone knew was the real high priest. “It would be most unusual to confer upon you authority above your station, but you have been so fervent in your service to this body that I sometimes consider you already a member. Tell me, are you aware that your views are shared by the Synagogue of Freedmen?”

I certainly was aware. Many of the Grecian Jews of that uniquely passionate congregation hailed from my home province of Cilicia, and I never let an opportunity pass without identifying myself as being a Roman citizen from Tarsus, so they knew well that we were fellow countrymen. Despite that these men were Greek, they considered me a compatriot.

“Frankly,” I told Caiaphas, “I like the way those men think. They agree the council must take an unequivocal stand against these apostates to stop the daily increase in their number.”

“The Freedmen are particularly incensed by the effectiveness of one of the new leaders,” Caiaphas said. “You know of whom I speak?”

“Of course. The Freedmen have failed in their every
effort to shout down the one the rabble-rousers boast is full of faith and power.”

“Stephen,” Caiaphas said. “He is cunning and an effective speaker.”

“Able to perform miracles, signs, and wonders, according to his cohorts.”

“I thought the death of Jesus would put an end to this nonsense,” Caiaphas said. “Now I wonder how much the life of this Stephen is worth to their cause.”

“The Freedmen have all manner of evidence against him.”

“We need more,” Caiaphas said. “We need grounds to stone the man for gross impiety.”

“Rome will not permit us to kill him,” I said.

“How will they know whether that was our intention? Perhaps we can show that we afforded him every courtesy, allowed him to say whatever he wanted—as long as he respected our authority.”

Allowing such a powerful speaker access to the ears of the council seemed risky, but I was for anything that might bring one of these men to face the wrath of the Sanhedrin. I told Caiaphas it was a brilliant idea. He asked me to come back the next morning to meet with him and his father-in-law, Annas.

I barely slept.

Annas was nothing like Gamaliel or even Caiaphas. Here was a man of action, eager to thumb his nose at Rome. Sure, in the past that had cost him his official title, but the
joke was on them because, to this day, nothing happened within the Sanhedrin that Annas had not either instigated or at least approved.

“Saul,” he said, “you are just the man we need to lead this effort. Work with the Freedmen, talk to every witness. Compile the evidence against Stephen and give us what we need to finally extinguish this dangerous movement.”

In years past I might have reveled in this opportunity to shine in the eyes of the council, but by now my intellect and skills were well known. Already the toughest tasks often fell to me.

This time I would embrace duty for the purest of motives. No one felt as strongly as I did that this new sect was at enmity with Almighty God Himself. The fisherman Peter may have been their leader, but Stephen was quickly becoming their hero. The time had come to show him, and all who admired him, who really wielded the spiritual power in Jerusalem.

The Synagogue of Freedmen needed little encouragement to find men to swear that Stephen had decreed that the risen Jesus would destroy our temple and even change the customs passed down from Moses. They volunteered to testify that Stephen never ceased blaspheming against our holy place and the Law.

A few days later the Freedmen seized Stephen and brought him before the council. As the witnesses recited their serious charges, something very strange happened. Stephen's face began to glow like the midday sun! I couldn't take my eyes off him. Of what kind of sorcery was this man capable?

Caiaphas seemed transfixed, squinting into the strange visage of the accused. Annas whispered in his ear, and Caiaphas said, “This is your opportunity to tell us whether these charges are true.”

Had not Annas and Caiaphas planned to defend themselves before Rome by allowing Stephen to speak for as long as he wished, I would not have been able to tolerate the length of his speech. It went on for so long that I began to circulate among the brethren, asking how they could put up with this impudence.

Stephen retold the story of Abraham and the covenant, then went on to describe Isaac, Jacob, the twelve patriarchs, the selling of Joseph into slavery, Moses, the burning bush, the commandments, and even up to King David.

“How dare he?” I said as I mingled among the council. “Will you have him lecture you on your own history?”

But it grew worse! After this long recitation, he insulted the Sanhedrin members. “You stiff-necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears!” he said. “You always resist the Holy Spirit; as your fathers did, so do you.”

I leapt to my feet. “How dare he?” I cried. “For how much longer will you abide this?”

The Sanhedrin members scowled and pulled their robes about them, but Stephen would not stop. “Which of the prophets did your fathers not persecute? And they killed those who foretold the coming of the Just One, whom you have betrayed and murdered …”

“You are betrayers and murderers?” I shouted.

The members gnashed their teeth at Stephen and rose
up as one. As they rushed at him, he gazed up as if he could see something other than the ceiling. “Look!” he said. “I see the heavens open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God!”

“Blasphemer!” I screamed, and the council cried out, covering their ears, then surrounding Stephen and dragging him out. I ran ahead, leading them to a plain strewn with hundreds of rocks. “Stay away from any pit, and use no stones large enough to crush him! This must not look like an execution, but merely a punishment gone awry!”

As the men forced Stephen into an open area where he could not hide, I took their cloaks and pointed them to the piles of rocks. Nearly seventy men of all ages began throwing them at Stephen. It didn't take long for the weapons to find their mark. As first one, then another stone thudded into his belly and chest, he called out, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit!”

He knelt and cried, “Lord, do not charge them with this sin.”

Soon he lay in the dirt, a pool of blood under his head. When it was clear he was dead, I raised both fists, then began shaking hands with each of the men. We had done a righteous thing. It had been a great day.

That night I slept soundly for the first time in months.