Sons of Encouragement

by Francine Rivers

  Paul refused to go into hiding.

  When Paul and Luke reached Jerusalem, Mnason welcomed them to his home. I would have enjoyed offering them hospitality, but my circumstances had changed over the years, and I no longer owned a house in Jerusalem or Caesarea. I did not see Paul or Luke until they came to the council, but when I did, it was clear nothing had changed between us.

  “Silas!” Paul embraced me. I wept with joy. I had such mixed feelings about him being in Jerusalem. While I longed for our deep conversations, I feared he would be hunted down and killed. The Pharisees had never forgiven him for abandoning their cause. James and all the council members greeted him warmly. We all shared the same concerns about his welfare.

  Paul gave a good account of his journeys, often calling upon me to add anything he might have forgotten regarding the cities we had visited together. He had forgotten little.

  Of course, Paul longed to go to the Temple. James and I had discussed this possibility with the others and thought trouble might be averted if Paul took with him four men who had completed vows. By joining them in the purification ceremony and paying for their hair to be shaved, perhaps the Jews would see he had not rejected the Law.

  Men plan, but God prevails.

  Paul went to the Temple. He spent seven days worshiping there, rejoicing in the Lord. And then some Jews from Asia saw him, and spoke out against him. “Everywhere this man goes, he brings trouble upon us!”

  I sought to defend him. “You bring trouble upon yourself by rousing mobs and causing riots!”

  When anger meets anger, nothing good comes of it.

  Accusations filled the air. Some claimed Paul had brought Greeks into the Temple to defile the holy place. Trophimus the Ephesian had been seen near the Temple, and they assumed Paul had brought him inside. The Jewish leaders grabbed Paul and dragged him from the Temple. They threw him outside and slammed the doors. Others began beating him. I cried out for them to stop and found myself in the midst of the fray.

  Never had the sight of Roman soldiers and centurions so pleased me as that day! We would have died without their intervention. They surrounded Paul, and used their shields to keep the Jews back. The commander drew his sword and pounded it on his shield. “Quiet! All of you!” He shouted in heavily accented Aramaic, and then commanded his soldiers in Greek. “Put that man in chains until I find out what’s going on this time!”

  Paul swayed under the weight of iron while the commander tried to gather the facts. “Who is this man you’re trying to kill? What has he done?”

  “He stirs up dissension!”

  “He’s desecrated the Temple of our God!”

  “He’s Saul of Tarsus, and unjustly accused. . . .” We tried to come to his defense. Someone punched me in the side of the head. By the grace of God, I overcame the temptation to swing back.

  “He’s the ringleader of a cult that defies Rome!”

  Everyone shouted, each with a different answer, none near the truth.

  Two soldiers hauled Paul up the steps of the barracks while others faced the crowd, shields locked in a wall of protection. Somehow Paul convinced the commander to let him speak to the crowd.

  When Paul called out in Hebrew, the Jews fell silent. “I am a Jew, born in Tarsus, a city in Cilicia, and I was brought up and educated here in Jerusalem under Gamaliel. As his student, I was carefully trained in our Jewish laws and customs. I became very zealous to honor God in everything I did, just like all of you today. And I persecuted the followers of the Way.” He confessed the bloodguilt of holding the coats while others stoned Stephen, and going after others in his zeal against Christians, even traveling to Damascus to transport Christians from there to Jerusalem for punishment.

  “As I was on the road, approaching Damascus about noon, a very bright light from heaven suddenly shone down around me. I fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to me, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?’”

  They listened intently until he told them how God called on him to take the message of Christ to the Gentiles. Wrath came upon them like a fire.

  Men ripped off their cloaks in protest and threw dust into the air.

  “Away with such a fellow!”

  “Kill him!”

  “He isn’t fit to live!”

  Friends grabbed me and pulled me against a wall and we watched the mob surge up the steps, trying to reach Paul. The commander shouted. Soldiers locked shields. Men fell back, tumbling into others. Some fell, trampled by those still pressing from behind. The shouting became deafening. Faces reddened and twisted with rage.

  The commander had Paul hauled inside the barracks and the doors barred.

  I ran for Luke. By the time we returned to the Roman barracks, the mob had been dispersed. I demanded to see the commander and told him Paul was a Roman citizen. He had us escorted to Paul.

  He sat against the wall, badly bruised, his mouth split and bleeding. “At least I escaped a scourging.”

  Luke saw to his wounds. I put my hand gently on his shoulders, and saw even that touch caused him pain. “Everyone is praying.” I had brought bread, almonds, raisin cakes, and watered wine.

  Tears ran down his face. His shoulders slumped. “If only they would listen.”

  Luke spoke gently. “They did, for a while.”

  “The Lord gives them opportunity day after day, Paul. We will keep on praying and speak when we can. There are still many in Jerusalem who follow Christ, and the city has not been left to Ananias and his mob.”

  Luke shook his head. “The swelling will go down soon, Paul. But the blows may have worsened your eyesight.”

  The guard said we had to leave.

  Paul sighed. “Perhaps these Roman guards will listen.”

  That made me smile.

  The commander took Paul to the high council, and we heard Paul divided them by proclaiming he was on trial for believing in resurrection. The debate between Pharisees and Sadducees became so heated and disorderly, that the Roman soldiers took Paul under guard and returned him to the fortress.

  I knew it would not end there. The city was in turmoil over Paul. Rumors flew about plots against his life. I prayed unceasingly.

  The Lord reminded me that my friend was destined to go to Rome.

  When I went to tell him, the Roman guard said, “He is not here.”

  “Where have they taken him?”

  He refused to answer.

  I went to Paul’s sister. She had seen him. So had her son. “I heard some men talking in the Temple,” the boy told me. “They’d joined others in a plot to kill my uncle. They said they would fast from food and drink until he’s dead. There are forty of them, Silas! I went and told Paul, and he told me to tell the officer in charge.”

  We made inquiries and soon learned two hundred soldiers under the command of two centurions had left Jerusalem the night before. “I have a friend among the soldiers,” one of the brethren said. “And he told me seventy horsemen and two hundred spearmen went with them.”

  “And Paul?”

  “He couldn’t say for sure, only that they had a prisoner in chains and were taking him to Caesarea to the Roman governor.”

  I laughed. “Even the Roman army bends to the Lord’s will and protects God’s chosen servant!”

  Luke left immediately for Caesarea, but one crisis after another kept me in Jerusalem.

  “The high priest has gone to Caesarea,” James told me. “And he’s taken Tertullus with him.”

  “Tertullus might be famous for arguing Jewish and Roman law, but all the forces Satan can muster will not prevail against the Lord’s plans for Paul.”

  Luke wrote to me, and I kept the council apprised of Paul’s well-being and state of mind. By the time I was able to make the journey to see him, Ananias, the Jewish leaders, and Tertullus had long since failed in their attempts to sway Governor Felix into handing Paul over to them. In truth, I think Felix enjoyed aggravating them. He was a freed slave from Emperor Claudius’s household, and
ambitious. He married Drusilla, the great-granddaughter of the infamous King Herod the Great, thinking the alliance would commend him favorably to the Jews. It did not. The Herodians are hated for their Idumean blood. His marriage merely mixed it more.

  Paul looked well, but I knew imprisonment chafed him. He could only preach to few.

  “Ah, Silas, you are a friend who knows me.” Paul grasped my arms in greeting, much pleased at the writing supplies I had brought him. “I have a dozen letters to answer and had no means to do so.”

  “Has there been any indication yet what the governor plans to do with you?”

  “Nothing. He calls for me and I tell him about Jesus. I live in hope he will listen.”

  I stayed a few weeks and wrote letters he dictated, then returned to Jerusalem. I went back to Caesarea after Passover and found Paul frustrated.

  “The governor finds me entertaining!” He paced, wretched with impatience. “He hopes in vain for a bribe. Had I money to offer, I would not!”

  Governor Felix’s heart proved to be hard.

  “Why does God leave me here?”

  “To refine you, perhaps, for a time when you will meet and speak to another far greater: Caesar.”

  He prayed all the time, not for himself, but for the churches he had planted. He is the only man I have ever known who could remember names, hundreds of them, and the circumstances of each person’s salvation. His love grew and could not be bound within those stone walls. Prayer gave his love wings. He wrote countless letters, some to me, though they are gone now, passed on to others or burned by enemies. Those in my possession will survive. I have made copies to leave behind. Paul spoke words from the Lord, instructions and counsel to the congregations struggling against Satan, who will never cease to prowl. We must trust in the Lord, His Word, and the power of His strength to overcome, to endure to the end.

  I thought some change would come when Rome recalled Felix. Judea made a man’s career, or destroyed him. When later I came to Rome, I heard Felix had been banished in disgrace, and saw it an apt end for a man who left Paul in prison for no other reason than to please his enemies. Perhaps in exile, Felix’s heart will soften.

  Porcius Festus became governor. He came up to Jerusalem and was greeted by the chief priests and leading men of Jerusalem. They had not forgotten Paul, and asked the governor to have him brought to the city and put on trial. Festus did not give in to their demands. He courted Jewish favor to keep the peace, but did not relinquish any of his power. He said if the Jews had charges against Paul, they must come to Caesarea and make them before the Roman tribunal.

  Before Festus left Jerusalem, the Lord gave me a vision of what was to come, and I went immediately to Caesarea.

  “Under no circumstances must you agree to return to Jerusalem for trial, Paul.”

  “I will go where I am led.”

  “If you return to Jerusalem, it is not God leading you, but Satan! Listen to me! Their purpose is not to put you on trial, but to kill you on the way. You will be silenced.”

  “Christ will never be silenced.”

  “If you will not take into account my vision, remember what the Lord told you years ago. You will speak before kings! Stand firm, my friend, and the Lord will keep you to the course. You will testify before Caesar!”

  When Festus ordered him to stand before the Jews and answer their charges, Paul called upon his right under Roman law to be heard. When Festus asked if he would be willing to return to Jerusalem, Paul refused. “I appeal to Caesar!”

  Festus and his advisers quickly agreed, no doubt grateful to pass along responsibility for so troublesome a prisoner. Festus may have thought sending Paul away would assure some peace in Jerusalem.

  King Agrippa and Bernice, his sister, came to Caesarea to pay their respects to the new Roman governor. Festus honored them with an elaborate ceremony and brought Paul out to speak before the king.

  One of our Roman brethren told me, “He challenged Agrippa as a man might challenge a friend. Paul asked if he believed in the Jewish prophets. I know nothing of these things, but the king was disturbed by the questions Paul raised. He left the room. Festus and Bernice went with him. I was told Paul might have been set free if he hadn’t appealed to Caesar.”

  Soon after, I received a letter from Luke.

  “The governor has given orders for Paul to be taken under guard to Rome. Can you accompany us?”

  I longed to go with them and prayed fervently that God would allow me to do so. I spoke with the others on the council and we all prayed about it. None had peace about letting me go, though they sent me to Caesarea to bless Paul and bring him provisions.

  He wept when he saw me. He must have seen in my face that I could not go. “I knew it was too much to ask, but I hoped . . .”

  “I’m needed here, for now, at least. When do you leave?”

  “Within the week.” He grasped my arms. “We worked well together, my friend. Think of all those thousands from Antioch to Athens and back again.” He sighed. “I wish you were coming with me. I could have used your help.”

  I tried to soften his disappointment and my own. “You’ve written a few good letters without me.”

  He laughed.

  What little time we had together, we used to write letters.

  I saw him off. It was a difficult parting. We thought we would never see each other again.

  But as I have learned over the years, God always seems to have other plans.

  SIX

  Someone cleared his throat. Silas turned.

  Epanetus crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “I have never seen a man so dedicated to a task.” He searched Silas’s face. “I did not intend to add to your grief.”

  “I have more good memories than bad, Epanetus.” Silas smiled wistfully. “When Paul sailed from Caesarea, I never thought to see him again.”

  “You’ve lost many friends.”

  Silas rose from the writing table. “As have we all.” He stretched. “Thankfully, they are not lost to us forever.”

  The Roman smiled. “The Lord is renewing your faith.”

  “Even a dog gets tired of licking its wounds.”

  “Patrobas said word has spread that you’re here. Many have asked to come. Do you feel up to teaching?”

  Teaching was second nature to Silas, but he feared that the larger gathering might endanger this small congregation. He voiced his concerns. “Perhaps I should move soon.”

  “I’ve lived with danger all my life, Silas, but never with a greater purpose than now. But I leave it to you.” He chuckled. “Curiatus is especially eager to speak with you. The boy has come every day that you’ve been here. He knocked at my door again this morning.”

  “He reminds me of Timothy.” Silas thought of Diana and wondered what life would have been like to have a wife and children and why this longing came now when it was past hope.

  “What do you say?”

  “Say about what?”

  “I wonder at your reverie, Silas.” Epanetus seemed amused. “Shall I send word to Diana that she may bring Curiatus?”

  Silas turned away and fiddled with the reed pens. “Just send for the boy.”

  Curiatus came, and Silas spent an hour answering his questions before the others arrived for the meeting.

  People sat close together to make space for everyone. Silas looked into their eager faces—strangers most of them, yet all bound together by love of Jesus.

  “I heard the Lord speak in Galilee,” he said. “He stood on a boat a little way from shore while thousands sat on the hillside listening. His voice carried to where I stood on the edge of the crowd, above them.” He smiled wryly. “I did not understand all of what He said, but what I did disturbed me greatly. His words went into me like a sword, cutting through all the notions I had about who I was and what I was meant to do with my life. To follow Him, I would have to change everything. That frightened me. So I left.”

  Resting his forearms on his knees, Si
las leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him. He could not see their faces through his tears. “I look back and see how many opportunities the Lord gave me, how often I knew His words were directed at the sin that held me captive, how long it took before I let Him remove all the traps that kept me caged.” He covered his face. “Oh, what fools we can be, holding tight to the things of this world and believing they are our salvation.”

  “But you let go, Silas. You gave your life to Christ. You wouldn’t be here with us now if you hadn’t.”

  Curiatus with his compassionate heart. Timothy all over again. Silas lowered his hands. “I can’t tell you I haven’t struggled or thought of what my life might have been.” He looked at Diana. “Or what I gave up.”

  Her expression softened. “We all struggle, Silas.” Her mouth curved so gently. “Each day has its trials to face.”

  “Yes.” He sighed. “Each day is a struggle to hold tight to faith.” Especially when one saw men and women executed for following Jesus’ teaching to love God, love one another, and treat everyone with compassion, mercy, and truth, even when it would not be returned in kind. “Jesus told us not to worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today, as we all well know. Jesus tells us to seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and He will give you everything you need. I saw Jesus. I heard Him speak. But you, here with me now . . . Your work will always be to have faith in what you have not seen with your own eyes, to trust in the testimony of men like Peter and Paul and John Mark.”

  “And you,” Diana said. “We trust in your word, Silas.”

  His throat tightened. He could not hold her gaze.

  “The world is Satan’s battlefield, but if we live in Christ, we live victorious through His death and resurrection. To believe is the hardest work of all when the world stands shoulder to shoulder against you.”

  “I’ve heard Christians say there never was a resurrection.”