by Angela Hunt
“What is this?” she asked, smiling.
“It is gratitude.” He pressed his lips to her temple. “I could not do this without you.”
She said nothing, but rested her head on his chest for a moment. They stood together in the hush of the alley until the setting sun gilded the stones and filled the crevices with shadows.
“We’d better go,” Aquila finally said.
Priscilla nodded and began descending the steps to the street.
They mingled with the crowds of people going home for the night, walking among pedestrians and donkey carts until they reached Palatine Hill. There they looked around to see if they could spot any others from the community, but Aquila saw no one. He turned to Priscilla with a question in his eyes, and she shook her head.
“Good,” he said. “They have all passed this way already.”
At Palatine Hill they skirted the emperor’s new palace and walked until they reached the few remaining residences of the patrician families. They knocked at the house with the blue door, where a servant stepped out and led them to a walled garden. There, between the stones of a waterfall, Aquila spotted the tunnel that led to the aqueduct. He thanked the servant and entered the tunnel, extending his hand to help Priscilla walk on the uneven stones.
Though the aqueduct was no longer in use, a small stream still flowed along its bottom. They walked while staying to the edge, moving away from the sounds of the city. Darkness deepened as they walked, and Aquila felt a moment’s panic—what if they got lost in here?
Soon, though, he spied a crack in the stone wall and saw the silver sheen of moonlight on the stones. When he and Priscilla reached the opening, they found themselves outside the city, in a field littered with large rocks and wildflowers. Ahead they could see small camps, makeshift tents, and the glow of cook fires.
“It’s our group!” Priscilla’s voice vibrated with joy. “We’ve caught up to them.”
They lengthened their strides and before long joined the others. After a quick head count, Aquila determined that all the travelers were present. They had lost no one on their way out of the city.
“Tomorrow,” he said, slipping his arm around Priscilla’s shoulders, “we will break up into groups and travel separately until we reach Ephesus. But for tonight, we will stay together and pray for our brother Paul, who faces the executioner at sunrise.”
He squeezed Priscilla’s shoulder and went to help Eubulus set up another tent. After they had completed their task, he looked for his wife and found her sitting on a rock, her eyes fixed on the stone walls and gleaming villas of Rome in the distance.
He sat beside her. “You are not missing the city already, are you?”
She laughed softly. “The city? Not yet. The people? I think I shall always miss them. Especially Luke and Paul.” Her voice broke, and Aquila reached for her hand. “Paul would not want you to be overcome with sorrow. He would remind us that we will see him again soon.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“‘What is your life?’” Aquila said, quoting the apostle James. “‘For you are a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes.’”
“But not forever,” Priscilla said, her eyes misting as she stared at the city. “Not forever.”
As golden torchlight flickered through the opening in the ceiling of Paul’s dungeon, Luke sat across from his friend with a hamper between them. With Mauritius’s permission, he had brought provisions from the prefect’s house.
Aware that the hour was growing late, he pulled several items from the basket.
“This,” he said, lifting a cup and a jug of wine, “represents the Lord’s blood, which was poured out for us. We drink this to remember His sacrifice.”
He poured wine into the cup and gave it to Paul, who drank and then bowed his head. Luke shared the cup as well, then set it aside as he recalled the immense suffering, pain, and humiliation Jesus had endured on the execution stake.
“Amen,” he said. He pulled a flat loaf from the hamper, broke it into two pieces, and handed one to Paul. “And this,” he went on, “represents Christ’s body, which was broken for us. We eat this to remember His sacrifice.”
Silently they ate, recalling the body that was bruised and bloodied for the sins of the world. When they finished eating, they prayed for courage, strength, and faithfulness unto death.
With their prayers concluded, Luke embraced his friend and mentor, promising once more to join him at sunrise on the morrow.
Chapter
Fifteen
The Twenty-First Day of Junius
Paul stared at the rope as it descended from the round opening overhead. Its length coiled on the floor like a snake. Had any prisoner ever refused to grab hold of it, knowing that doing so meant he was about to die? Or were they always ready to do anything or face anyone to escape from this horrible pit?
He was ready to go. He placed his foot into the loop and clung tightly to the thick cord. “Pull!” he called. Then he rose from darkness into the gloom of early dawn.
Severus extended a muscular arm and pulled him into the upper chamber. Mauritius sat at his desk, his eyes heavy-lidded. Torches pushed at the darkness, for the sun had not yet shown itself.
“Prisoner Paul of Tarsus,” Mauritius said, his voice flat and perfunctory, “is there anything you wish to say before you walk outside?”
Paul knew what awaited him on the other side of the door—a chopping block, an ax, and his executioner. He looked around, and soon his grateful eyes found what they sought: Luke. Breathless and red-eyed, he stepped into the room.
“You almost missed me,” Paul said. “Another ten minutes and—”
“I will ask again,” Mauritius interrupted. “Paul of Tarsus, do you wish to say anything before we go?”
Paul pulled a folded letter from his tunic and held it out. “If you will permit me, I would like to give this letter to Luke. With your permission, he will deliver it to my friend Timothy in Ephesus.”
Mauritius nodded. “Permission granted.”
“One more thing.” Paul gave the prefect an apologetic smile. “I would like for Luke to read a marked portion of the letter aloud as we . . . play our parts out there. The letter says everything I want to say.”
And everything I want you to hear.
“Permission granted,” Mauritius replied, looking away.
Luke’s brow had furrowed, yet he took the unsealed letter, unfolded it, and found the portion marked with a symbol. He caught Paul’s eye. “I will read it.”
“Thank you.”
Severus opened the heavy wooden door, and Paul stepped out into the small courtyard. Overhead, the stars had begun to fade behind a sky of dark blue. A faint glow on the eastern horizon indicated where the sun would soon rise. The soft light was enough, however, to reveal everything he expected to see—stump, ax, executioner, and a basket. He hadn’t considered the need for a basket, but the Romans could be remarkably fastidious.
He walked over to the executioner and positioned himself before the chopping block as Luke raised the letter and began to read. For an instant Paul feared the light would not be bright enough for Luke’s aging eyes, but then the eastern sky began to glow pink.
“‘For I am already being poured out like a drink offering,’” Luke read, “‘and the time of my departure has come.’”
Paul closed his eyes as the executioner pressed his head to the block, exposing his neck. The apostle smiled at the sound of Luke’s voice. The inspiration to have Luke read had surely come from the Holy Spirit. The words were fitting and would settle into Mauritius’s heart.
“‘I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith.’”
Reading aloud would also give Luke something to do, apart from the grievous task of watching a friend die.
“‘In the future,’” Luke read on, “‘there is reserved for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and
not to me only, but also to everyone who has longed for His appearing.’”
Paul heard the blade whistle through the air . . . and then he opened his eyes.
He is standing on a hilltop near the Damascus road, and the people who have visited him in innumerable night visions are waiting. Their eyes seek his, and then, to his amazement, their somber expressions melt into enthusiastic smiles. They reach out to him, patting him, squeezing his shoulders, and their rubs and pats and robust embraces do not hurt, nor does his twisted back. For the first time in years, he straightens his spine and lifts his arms over his head. He is healed! Renewed!
He lifts his gaze to the faces in the crowd—Stephen, Peter, James, and John Mark! Friends who have gone on ahead of him are waiting to welcome him, to lead him to the One he met on this same road so many years ago.
The crowd parts, and just as he did that first time, Paul falls to his knees in the sand. Before him stands Yeshua, the Christ who has guided him all these years. The same Christ who has comforted him, who set him on a path of discovery, adventure, suffering, and glory. The Christ who promised to welcome him into Paradise, and to tell him . . .
“Well done, my good and faithful servant.” The glow of Yeshua’s smile warms Paul’s bones down to the marrow. “Well done, my friend. Welcome home.”
Interview With the Author
I’m always asked how much of a novel is fact and how much fiction, especially when a story is based on historical events. So I’ve addressed a few topics introduced in this novel in the hope that you’ll appreciate a fuller understanding of the time in which Luke and Paul lived.
1. Was Paul actually executed because Nero believed he incited the great fire of Rome?
I could find no historical evidence directly supporting the idea that Paul was accused of inciting arson, but Nero did blame Christians for the fire. Since Paul was reported to be a leader among the new sect, the notion that Paul was blamed for such a destructive fire is not an unreasonable assumption, especially since we don’t know exactly when Paul was executed. Many believe he died in June, AD 68.
2. The film portrays Paul’s prison as large, whereas you describe it as a hole in the ground. Why the difference?
Filmmakers often use visual shorthand to convey information. They show a stone building with prisoners and the viewer automatically understands it is a prison, so there’s no need for the writer or director to spend time explaining details that aren’t important to the story. But a novelist has the luxury of employing more words. Therefore, I could more easily explain Paul’s prison. In doing my research to write the novel—which came after the movie—I learned that this prison, known as the Carcer in Paul’s day (the root for incarceration), consisted of two chambers hewn out of rock, one above the other. It was located in the heart of Rome near the Roman Forum and was used only for the detainment of prisoners and occasional executions.
Ancient Rome had no police force other than the Praetorian Guard and no pressing need for a jail. The emperor made laws in (sometimes forced) cooperation with the Senate, but not all of those laws would make sense to a twenty-first century individual. The Romans didn’t base their laws on a morality derived from a Judeo-Christian ethic. Roman laws had more to do with what was beneficial for Rome and Romans.
Furthermore, each paterfamilias, or head of the household, was the voice of Roman law in his own family. A man could flog his slaves or his wife or his children to death, and no one would arrest him. Unwanted babies were frequently left outside for wild animals to devour, and slaves were used as their masters saw fit. Adultery was common, prostitution legal, and crimes such as stealing were quickly punished. Even an adult child was not free from his father’s authority until the father died.
On the other hand, in Rome it was illegal to wear clothing that implied one belonged to a higher social class than one actually did, to spend more than an aristocrat might spend on a banquet (lest you shame the aristocracy), and to hide if the emperor put your name on a list of those who needed to die so that their property could be sold to help pay the empire’s debts.
The Romans had no great need of prisons, except for the occasional holding cell for those who awaited the emperor’s verdict. Paul and Peter both spent time in an underground vault about twenty-one feet in diameter, accessible only by a hole in the twelve-foot ceiling. It was a truly hellish place. Sallust, who died in 34 BC, described it as “exceeding dark, unsavory, and able to craze any man’s senses.”*
3. I’ve always understood that the apostle was called Saul (or Sha’ul) before his conversion and was called Paul afterward. True?
Not exactly. Sha’ul is the apostle’s Hebrew name, so in Jewish circles and with his Jewish friends he was probably called Sha’ul even after his conversion. Paul was the name he used among Romans, and he was probably known as Paul as a child growing up in Tarsus. But since he became viewed as the “apostle to the Gentiles,” it is fitting he would be best known as Paul.
Luke writes, “But Sha’ul, who is also Paul, filled with the Ruach ha-Kodesh, fixed his gaze on him . . .” (Acts 13:9).
4. Did Paul really witness the young Jesus talking to the scribes and chief priests in the Temple?
I don’t know. It’s unclear how old Paul was when he died, so I guessed at his age and put his timeline alongside Christ’s. Paul was a student at the Temple as a young man, so he certainly could have witnessed this event. Still, we have no recorded evidence of such an encounter.
5. Did Paul know Stephen as a youth? And did he associate with Nicodemus?
I believe it’s safe to say yes to both questions. Nicodemus was an esteemed member of the Sanhedrin, and Paul probably would have known him at least by reputation. And if Stephen and Paul were about the same age, they might have studied at the Temple together. The Sanhedrin was more than a court—it was also a religious school where young men went to study the written and Oral Law.
6. What is the Oral Law?
Most Jews believe the Oral Law is composed of everything Moses learned from God on Sinai that was never written, but transmitted orally to his successors. The Oral Law also includes edicts, ordinances, and teachings from the sages throughout the generations, along with laws extrapolated from Torah verses. The Oral Law has since been written into the Talmud and Mishnah.
Karaite Judaism does not accept the Oral Law and considers the form of Judaism commonly practiced today as “Talmudism,” not authentic Judaism. They base their beliefs on Deuteronomy 4:2: “You must not add to the word that I am commanding you or take away from it—in order to keep the mitzvot of Adonai your God that I am commanding you.”
7. Did Nero really light the streets of Rome with Christians as they burned to death on crosses? And did he torture and kill them at the Circus Maximus?
Yes to both questions.
8. How long did Nero rule?
Nero ruled from AD 54–68, committing suicide not long after Paul was executed. The notorious emperor stabbed himself after being tried and condemned to death in absentia by the Senate. One of the empire’s most brutal leaders, he was the first Roman emperor to take his own life.
Though he tried to kill all the Christians in Rome, within a short time after his death the church in Rome was thriving, made stronger by persecution. St. Peter’s Basilica stands today on the very spot where Christians were tortured in the Circus of Nero.
9. How did Luke die?
We don’t know for certain, but apparently he did not die in Rome. He wrote the New Testament books of Luke and Acts, which together make up more than one quarter of the New Testament. If he was Greek and a Gentile (some believe he was a Hellenized Jew), then he was the only Gentile among the Spirit-inspired writers of the Bible.
* Sallust, The Conspiracy of Catiline, p. 55.
References
Aquinas, Thomas. Summa Theologica. Trans. Fathers of the English Dominican Province. London: Burns, Oates & Washbourne.
Betz, Hans Dieter. “Paul (Person).” Ed. David Noel Freedman. T
he Anchor Yale Bible Dictionary. New York: Doubleday, 1992. 186–201.
Burk, Denny. “Was the Apostle Paul Married?” 8/30/11, http://www.dennyburk.com/was-the-apostle-paul-married/, accessed 11/24/17.
Cottrell, Jack. Romans. Vol. 2. Joplin, MO: College Press Pub. Co., 1996.
Dunnam, Maxie D., and Lloyd J. Ogilvie. Galatians / Ephesians / Philippians / Colossians / Philemon. Vol. 31. Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1982.
“Eight Things You May Not Know about the Praetorian Guard,” http://www.history.com/news/history-lists/8-things-you-may-not-know-about-the-praetorian-guard, accessed 12/4/17.
Elwell, Walter A., and Philip Wesley Comfort. Tyndale Bible Dictionary. Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale House Publishers, 2001. 543.
Fiensy, David A. New Testament Introduction. Joplin, MO: College Press Pub. Co., 1997.
Fruchtenbaum, Arnold G. The Footsteps of the Messiah: A Study of the Sequence of Prophetic Events. Rev. ed. Tustin, CA: Ariel Ministries, 2003.
Fruchtenbaum, Arnold G. The Messianic Bible Study Collection. Vol. 107. Tustin, CA: Ariel Ministries, 1983.
Hayford, Jack W. Hayford’s Bible Handbook. Nashville, TN; Atlanta, GA; London; Vancouver: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1995.
Kurian, George Thomas. Nelson’s New Christian Dictionary: The Authoritative Resource on the Christian World. Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2001.
Lampe, Peter. “Prisca (Person).” Ed. David Noel Freedman. The Anchor Yale Bible Dictionary. New York: Doubleday, 1992. 467–468.
McGee, J. Vernon. Thru the Bible Commentary. electronic ed. Vol. 5. Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1997.
Mehr, Assaph. “How Did Ancient Romans Identify Themselves?” Quora, 9/3/15, https://www.quora.com/How-did-Roman-citizens-identify-themselves-as-citizens-during-the-first-century-AD, accessed 11/27/17.
Melick, Richard R. Philippians, Colossians, Philemon. Vol. 32. Nashville, TN: Broadman & Holman Publishers, 1991.