Anna turned away as Taryn, Corydon draped over her shoulder, nodded a silent farewell—tears streaming.
The walk to where I would spend the rest of my sleepless night near the harbor was longest and loneliest of my life.
23
BECALMED
THE MEDITERRANEAN
FOR SOMEONE WITH MY disposition, fatigue does not contribute to a productive day. My normal course consisted of vigorous daily activity resulting in sound sleep and an early awakening. With the day I had endured, full of the whole gamut of emotions, from fear to elation to sadness and longing, compounded by great physical exertion and then the inability to sleep, I boarded the ship bound for my homeland with a weariness that draped over me like a thick, woolen cloak. I felt as if my legs were wood, my arms rock.
I bore no earthly belongings but my leather bag containing my parchments and writing implements. A wool cloak would have been a welcome addition. In my sluggish morning prayer time, as I sat topside nodding and forcing a smile for those cordial fellow passengers who deigned to greet me, I apologized to the Lord for bringing less than my best self to His work for the day. I feared that if He brought opportunities to share His gospel with anyone, I might not be vigilant enough even to recognize the prospect.
Fortify yourself with rest, for in due time I will trouble the waters to make pliant the ears of the voyagers.
I went below decks to the tiny area I had been allotted, secured my bag, slipped off my sandals, and set about stretching out on the hammock of rope affixed to the beams. It was good I was the only one with a nap in mind at that hour, as it had been years since I had attempted this and looked anything but a seaman.
The contraption swung toward me when I put my foot in, then pitched me to the floor when I attempted to roll onto it. Eventually I had to hold tight to the ropes on either side, steady myself with one foot and leap off the other, hoping to land square on my back on a moving target. I accomplished this, only to cause the bed to bang the side of the ship then sway perpendicular to the floor, forcing me to hang on lest I be hurled out anew.
When I was sore and exhausted from the effort, the wild rocking finally slowed and the movement of the ship lulled me nearly to sleep. I became only vaguely aware of conversations and footsteps topside as the great vessel was readied to leave the dock. With shouted commands and running about, the crew loosed the lines, and amid cheers and groaning and squeaking, the craft shoved off.
I was the only passenger below, and I slept all day, for it was twilight when I finally extricated myself from the rope bed—no more gracefully than how I had mounted it—and made my way above. Passengers drew shawls about their shoulders as they crowded the sides to watch the moon rise and await a dinner of fresh fish. Crew members scampered about the rigging and trimmed sails as the ship cut smoothly through the Mediterranean.
I asked how fast we were going and told a crewman to consider me a non-seaman. “If we were on land,” he said, “I’d estimate us at about seven miles an hour, sir. She’s a big craft.”
I felt rested and had grown hungry. I found a secluded seat and prayed for Taryn while also asking God to prepare me for whatever lay ahead—in the water and in my homeland.
An hour later, our section of the ship sat about forty passengers who passed bowls of steaming whitefish and vegetables with bread. I was told that about 160 other passengers were eating elsewhere. I may have been the only one who noticed whitecaps forming in the moonlight. I drew my mantle closer around my neck and wasn’t surprised when a deckhand called for attention and announced the crew would be picking up the serving bowls early, as the captain and navigator anticipated strong winds.
We passengers were instructed to make our way below decks until dawn or an all-clear announcement, and we were advised to stay away from beams and protrusions should the ship begin to shift or roll. “We don’t foresee anything severe, but we want you to avoid being tossed about. Should our angle spill any lamp oil, it’s safest to douse all the lamps to avoid fires.”
I sat in the middle of my hammock, finding that much easier to manage, and felt reasonably secure with my arms spread, holding fast to the outer ropes. As I was positioned in the front corner of the quarters, I would not have to move to shout for everyone’s attention.
It wasn’t long before the excitement began.
I had noticed many aboard wore Jewish garb, as well as Greeks I surmised were sober people of some faith. They were organizing their belongings and preparing their sleeping arrangements when the ship began to rock and sway, gradually at first and then with more force. Many immediately commenced to pray, which told me that when God brought on the crisis He had foretold, they would be ripe for listening.
Suddenly the bow of the ship came out of the water and must have risen nearly ten feet, as I was pressed back and heard shrieks as lamps went out and oil spilled throughout. Several shouted to douse the lamps, which many rushed to do, just as the keel slammed back to the surface and a number of people fell, screaming.
Within moments all the lamps had been snuffed and numerous people sniffled in fear.
“Be not afraid!” I cried out. “God is with us!”
“Be quiet!” someone said.
“Shut up!”
“What?” came a plaintive call from a woman. “Let him speak! I’m frightened.”
“Yes, speak!”
“God is with us!” I said. “Men and women, sons and daughters of the family of Abraham, and all those among you who fear God, to you the word of salvation has been sent!”
“What do you mean?”
“I bear a message from God on high if you care to hear it!”
“Yes, yes! Speak! Please!”
“Very well! The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob sent His Son Jesus to Jerusalem as the promised Messiah. But those who dwell there and their rulers, because they did not know Him or understand the voices of the prophets that are read every Sabbath, fulfilled those prophets by condemning Him. And though they found no cause for death in Him, they asked Pontius Pilate to crucify Him anyway.
“When they had fulfilled all that was written concerning Him, they took Him down from the tree and laid Him in a tomb. But God raised Him from the dead. The risen Christ was seen for many days by those who came up with Him from Galilee to Jerusalem, who are His witnesses to the people. I myself saw Him later on the road to Damascus and declare to you glad tidings—the same promise that was made to the fathers of old.
“God has fulfilled this promise of the Messiah for us their children, in that He has raised up Jesus. As it is written in the second psalm: ‘You are My Son, today I have begotten You.’
“I am making it known to you, brothers and sisters, that through this man Jesus comes the forgiveness of sins. By Him everyone who believes is justified.”
“I believe!” someone shouted.
“So do I!”
“I as well!”
The sea continued to roil and the ship to toss.
“Pray Jesus will save us all!”
I prayed, “Father, calm the sea in the name of Jesus!” and it was as if the ship stopped dead in the water.
“God is real!” someone called out.
“Praise God!”
“I believe in Jesus!”
Many cheered, then all fell silent. From above we heard cautious footsteps, then running. The hatch opened. “Light the lamps!”
Tiny flames appeared all over and people called out to know who the preacher had been. I stood and raised a hand. “I will pray with any who wish, and I will tell you how the Lord Jesus Himself met me on the road to Damascus. Peace be unto you!”
As people rushed topside, most stopped to shake my hand and tell me they would find me later to talk. Within minutes I followed the last of them up and found the ship absolutely still in the water. Regardless what the crew did with the sails, the Mediterranean was not moving, and not a puff of wind could be felt. It was nearly as disconcerting as the storm had been.
“Are there oars?” someone called out. “Are we stuck here?”
“It’s not that kind of a vessel!” a crew member said. “We’re what is called ‘becalmed,’ but it won’t last long. It never does.”
But it did. It was midnight before a minor swell turned the ship slightly, then a gentle breeze caused a dull thud in the lower sail and broke the craft’s inertia. Cheers arose from the passengers and many began making their way back down to the sleeping quarters.
Wide awake now, I remained topside enjoying the warm stillness of the night and the slow, quiet movement of the ship. And people began seeking me out, asking about Jesus. Some had heard about Him. To others He was just a name. Many were curious about my having come from such a religious background, opposing Him and the people who believed in and revered Him, even to the point of violently attacking them—then becoming a most enthusiastic proponent of His gospel.
That night a Jewish couple from Joppa became believers in Jesus the Messiah and said they were eager to get back to their family and congregation to tell them the good news. I warned them they might not find everyone so welcoming.
A young man, a Greek who said he had always been a devout follower of God but who had never heard of Jesus, also became a believer. He asked if he could find other followers of The Way in Pisidian Antioch.
“Some are being sent from Jerusalem to preach and teach in that area. If you ask the right questions and listen for the right answers, you believers will find each other and churches will grow there.” I also told him to write to me in Tarsus if he found no fellow believers and I would encourage him and tell him if I knew of anyone coming to his region.
The next morning several others asked me to talk more about the Messiah, but I learned that God had other plans for me on this voyage. He had apparently not designed it merely to train me in ministering to strangers. He also gave me a taste of opposition.
I was holding forth about the truths of God to a group of about a dozen when I was interrupted by a boatswain who told me the captain wished to speak with me in his quarters. I told him I would come as soon as I had finished teaching the group.
“You don’t understand, sir. The captain of this ship is like the governor of a province. He holds your life in his hands.”
I smiled. “So if I don’t come immediately he can throw me overboard. Is that what you’re telling me?”
Several chuckled. The boatswain did not. “That is exactly what I’m telling you, and I’ve seen him do it. You are entirely under his authority as long as we’re at sea. He can marry you and bury you, and if you haven’t noticed, not one sliver of land is visible from here.”
“I believe you had better go,” one of the men in the group said.
I followed the boatswain amidships and he pointed me to the captain’s quarters. “Have I gotten myself in trouble?” I said with a light tone.
The captain neither smiled nor looked up from his charts. He merely pointed to a chair. “This is my meeting,” he said, “so allow me to ask the questions.”
“I apologize.”
He referred to a long sheet of parchment and traced a finger down a list, stopping midway. “‘Paul bar Y’honatan, no city listed, full fare paid, disembarking Tarsus.’” Finally he looked up at me. “Occupation?”
“Tentmaker.”
“Then why don’t you make tents and keep me from hearing complaints about you?”
“Complaints?”
“Some worry that you are a sorcerer.”
I covered my mouth to hide a grin.
“This does not amuse me, Paul. I employed all my skill to fight through a squall last night, when suddenly the wind and the waves unaccountably stilled. More than one person says you commanded them to do so.”
“I assure you I possess no such power. I prayed and God answered.”
“I do not believe in the gods.”
“Neither do I. I believe in the one true God, Maker of heaven and earth. The wind and the waves obey Him.”
“Well, Paul, I’m grateful for whatever part you played in stopping the storm. Another swell like the first could have done serious damage to this ship. But some Jewish passengers are even more exercised that you seem to ascribe to a certain man the qualities of the messiah. As I said, I am not a religious person, but I know when you are disrespecting someone’s beliefs. The Jews believe in a prophesied messiah, and they didn’t book passage on my ship to have some tentmaking drifter claim that man has already arrived and that you’ve met him.”
“Sir, with all due respect, I am not only a Jew myself but a Pharisee of the highest order.”
“For whatever that is worth.”
“I studied under Gamaliel.”
“I’m sure that means something import—”
“And the Messiah has come and I have met Him.”
The captain stood. “If you want to reach Tarsus, you will keep that to yourself. Do we understand each other?”
“Are you a god or are you a man?”
“You well know the answer. I told you I do not claim even to be religious.”
“Then I give you fair warning: I choose to obey God rather than man. If God tells me to speak about the Messiah, I will.”
“And I will cast you into the sea if you challenge my authority.”
“I answer to a higher authority, sir.”
“Aboard this ship you do not.” As in Balbus’ home, I felt not the least hint of fear, yet the Lord did not permit me utterance. “You are dismissed, and I warn you, not another word about the messiah until we dock at Tarsus next week.”
I had promised the people I would be back to teach them, so I rushed from the captain’s quarters. For the first time on the voyage every sail billowed to its maximum and the ship seemed to slice through the water. The crew seemed excited about the efficiency of the craft, the wind, the weather, and the progress.
My little gathering seemed to have grown, several having joined while I was away. I sat and said, “I was quoting from the prophet Isaiah. But some aboard are offended at my claim that Jesus could be the Messiah, and the captain has ordered me to stop talking about this.”
“How dare he? Talk about whatever you wish! If someone doesn’t want to hear it, he doesn’t have to listen!”
“Fair enough. If you care to listen, stay.”
A handsome, gray-haired couple quickly rose and left, I continued, and within a few moments the captain and several of his crew came and dragged me to the side of the ship. I desperately pressed my leather bag to my chest.
“What is happening?” a woman cried out. “What are you doing to this man?”
Several others joined the fray, and a crowd of well over a hundred quickly gathered. The captain called for order. “This man is guilty of contempt of the captain, punishable by death!”
“What has he done?”
“Let him apologize and stop what he’s doing!”
Two crew members lifted me off my feet and carried me to the edge of the craft, awaiting the captain’s orders. Passengers came running from all parts of the ship.
“No, no!” several shouted. “Let him speak! What’s he done?”
“He’s taught blasphemy!” a man yelled. “He calls himself a Jew, yet he claims he’s met and talked to the Messiah!”
“So he’s a crazy man! Don’t kill him for it! Let him live! Let him live!”
Several took up the chant.
“There’s nothing crazy about him,” the captain said. “I warned him! Told him not to talk about this till we get to Tarsus! I don’t care what he thinks, what he believes, I’m responsible for this ship, and every passenger does what I say or pays the consequences! I’m a fair man. I’ll ask him one more time, give him one more chance. Paul, will you stop talking about this Jesus as the messiah, yes or no? If you stop, you live! If you don’t, into the sea with you.”
“I will not!” I shouted, and screams and shrieks arose from the crowd.
He gave a wave, and over the side I went
.
Tunic and mantle flapping in the warm breeze, I wrenched the strap from around my neck and thrust my bag over my head, wanting it to be first to resurface. Not a person aboard ship would have given a shekel for my chances with no land visible, but I knew God would not end my mission before it had barely begun. I needed to keep my parchments as dry as possible.
Fortunately my knees were slightly bent when my sandals finally smacked the surface, for the force raced all the way to my shoulders and head. With my hands aloft cradling the bag, all I could do was hold my breath and wait till my momentum stopped and I began to rise. I kicked as hard as I could against my waterlogged tunic and mantle, and when the bag and then my head popped out of the cold sea, the sun warmed my scalp and face, and the cheers of my fellow passengers warmed my heart.
I found the captain’s dark, glowering eyes among the many faces on the deck. He appeared stumped by what had to be a funny-looking little sojourner some thought was a sorcerer, bobbing and grinning with his bag aloft.
As one, the crowd turned to look at the masts, where the sails had suddenly lost their tension. Every expanse of fabric hung limp in the face of not even the hint of a zephyr. The sea lay still, its surface smooth as a marble floor.
Almost imperceptibly, but unmistakably, the ship began to glide. I was as fascinated by this as anyone, for nothing seemed to propel it. I set my bag on my shoulder to rest my arms and merely caressed the water with my feet to stay afloat. The captain barked for the helmsman to take the wheel and set the craft back on course, but regardless how the man spun the great rim, the massive vessel appeared to have a mind of its own.
As I remained suspended, left to die in the cold Mediterranean, his seemingly rudderless ship, sans wind or current, inexplicably circled me for hours.
The chant started low, then gained volume until all the passengers—no doubt eager to get on with the voyage—joined in clear and strong: “Pick him up! Pick him up! Pick him up!”
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