The Scribe: Silas

  Cleopas looked at me and raised his brows. I knew the Scriptures, and felt the conviction of the Holy Spirit.

  Peter spread his hands. “Why should we doubt this? Jesus went to the Samaritans, didn’t He? He went to the Ten Towns. He granted the request of a Phoenician woman. Why should it surprise us that the Lord has sent the Holy Spirit to a Roman centurion who has prayed and lived to please God?”

  The net of grace was cast wider than we imagined.

  Peter left Jerusalem and traveled throughout Judea and Galilee and Samaria. The Lord worked mightily through him wherever he went. He healed a paralytic in Lydda, and raised a woman from the dead in Joppa.

  Some Christians moved to Phoenicia, Cyprus, and Antioch to get away from the persecution. Soon believers from Cyprus and Cyrene arrived in Antioch and began preaching to Gentiles. We sent Barnabas to investigate. Rather than return, he sent letters instead. “I have witnessed the grace of God here.” He stayed to encourage new believers. “Great numbers are coming to Christ. They need sound teaching. I am going to Tarsus to find Saul.”

  These were hard years of deprivation due to drought. Crops failed from lack of rain. Wheat became expensive. It became increasingly difficult to provide for those who remained in Jerusalem. We managed and asked nothing from nonbelievers, but prayed for God’s wisdom in making the best use of our resources.

  Barnabas and Saul arrived with a box full of coins from Gentile believers. “Agabus prophesied a famine will come over and affect the entire world.”

  A Gentile prophesying? We marveled.

  “The Christians in Antioch send this money to help their brothers and sisters in Judea.”

  All of us, Jew and Gentile, were bound together by a love beyond our understanding.

  The famine did come, during the reign of Claudius.

  Persecution worsened.

  King Herod Agrippa arrested several of the apostles. To please the Jews, he ordered James, the brother of John, put to death by sword. When Peter was arrested, we scrambled for information in hope of rescuing him, but learned he had been delivered to four squads of guards and was chained in the lower part of the dungeon beneath the king’s palace.

  We met in secret at Mary’s house, wild with worry. Her son, John Mark, had also gone to Antioch with Barnabas and Saul. We discussed all kinds of plans, outrageous and hopeless. With so many guards, we knew no one could ever make their way into the prison, free Peter, and get him out alive. Peter was in God’s hands, and we could do nothing but pray. This we did, hour after hour, on our knees. We pleaded with God for Peter’s life. He was like a father to us all.

  The city filled with visitors for Passover. King Herod promised to bring forth Jesus’ greatest disciple, “the big fisherman,” Peter. We knew if God did not intervene, Peter would be crucified just as Jesus had been.

  We prayed that if Peter was crucified, God would raise him like Jesus. Who then could deny Jesus as Messiah, Lord and Savior of the world?

  I confess I had no hope of ever seeing him again.

  Someone knocked at the door. Whoever it was knew our code. We sent a servant girl to open the gate, but she ran back. “It’s Peter.”

  “You’re out of your mind, Rhoda.”

  “I know his voice.”

  “How can he be at the gate when he’s chained in the dungeon?”

  The knock came again, more firmly this time. Cleopas and I went. And there he was, big and bold as ever! Laughing, we opened the door and would have shouted to the others had he not had the presence of mind to quiet us. “They will be looking for me.”

  What a story he told us! “I was struck awake while sleeping between two guards. And there stood an angel of the Lord, right in my cell. It was all alight. The chains fell off my hands and the door opened. And I just sat there.” He laughed. “He had to tell me to get up! ‘Quick!’ he told me. ‘Put on your coat and follow me.’ I did. Not one guard saw us as we passed by. Not one! He took me to the gate.” He spread his arms wide. “And it opened by itself! We went along a street and then the angel vanished. I thought I was dreaming!” He laughed again.

  We all laughed. “If you’re dreaming, so are we!”

  “We must tell the others you’re safe, Peter.”

  “Later,” I said. “First we must get him out of Jerusalem before Herod sends soldiers to find him.”

  Herod did search for him, but when Peter could not be found, he had the two guards crucified in Peter’s place on charges of dereliction of duty, and left their bodies to rot on Golgotha.

  John Mark returned to Jerusalem, and Mary came to speak to me. Her husband and my father had known each other. “He’s ashamed, Silas. He feels like a coward. He won’t tell me what happened in Perga. Maybe he’ll talk to you.”

  When I came to the house, he couldn’t look me in the eyes. “My mother asked you to come, didn’t she?”

  “She thought it might be easier for you to talk to me.”

  He held his head. “I thought I could do it, and I couldn’t. I’m as much a coward now as I was the night they arrested Jesus.” He looked up at me. “I ran away that night. Did you know? A man grabbed hold of me, and I fought so hard my tunic was torn off. And I ran. I kept on running.” He buried his head in his hands. “I guess I’m still running.”

  “Everyone deserted Him, Mark. I rejected Him, remember? It wasn’t until I saw Jesus alive again that I acknowledged Him.”

  “You don’t understand! It was my opportunity to prove my love for Jesus, and I failed. Paul wanted to keep going. I told Barnabas I’d had enough. Paul scared me to death. I wanted to come home. Not much of a man, am I?”

  “Who’s Paul?”

  “Saul of Tarsus. He’s using his Greek name so they will listen to him.” He stood up and paced. “He’s not afraid of anyone! When we were in Paphos, the governor, Sergius Paulus, had a magician, a Jew named Elymas. He had the governor’s ear and caused us all kinds of trouble. I thought we’d be arrested and thrown in prison. I wanted to leave, but Paul wouldn’t hear of it. He said we had to go back. He wouldn’t listen to reason.”

  “What happened?”

  “He called Elymas a fraud! He was, of course, but to say it there in the governor’s court? And he didn’t stop there. He said Elymas was full of deceit and the son of the devil. And there was Elymas, calling down curses on us, and Sergius Paulus’s face was turning redder and redder.” He paced back and forth. “He signaled the guards, and I thought, This is it. This is where I die. And there’s Paul, pointing at Elymas and telling him the hand of the Lord was upon him and he’d be blind. And suddenly he was. The guards backed away from us. Elymas flailed around, crying for help.” John Mark paused. “The governor went so white I thought he’d die. But then he listened to Paul. He was too afraid not to listen.”

  John Mark flung his arms high in frustration. “He even ordered a banquet, and Paul and Barnabas spent the whole night talking to him about Jesus and how he could be saved from his sins. But all I wanted to do was get out of there and come home!”

  “Did Sergius Paulus believe?”

  John Mark shrugged. “I don’t know. He was amazed. Whether that means he believed, only the Lord knows.” He snorted. “Maybe he thought Paul was a better magician than Elymas.”

  “How did you get home?”

  He sat and hunched his shoulders again. “We put out to sea from Paphos. When we arrived in Perga, I asked Barnabas for enough money to get home. He tried to talk me out of leaving. . . .”

  “And Paul?”

  “He just looked at me.” John Mark’s eyes filled with tears. “He thinks I have no faith.”

  “Did he say that?”

  “He didn’t have to say it, Silas!” Folding his arms on his knees, he bowed his head. “I have faith!” His shoulders shook. “I do!” He looked up, angry in his own defense. “Just not the kind to do what he’s doing. I can’t debate in the synagogues or talk to crowds of people I’ve never met. Paul speaks fluent Greek like you do, but I s
tumble around when people start asking questions. I can’t think fast enough to recite the prophesies in Hebrew let alone another language!” He looked miserable. “Then later, I think of all the things I could have said, things I should have said. But it’s too late.”

  “There are other ways to serve the Lord, Mark.”

  “Tell me one thing I can do, one thing that will make a difference to anyone!”

  “You spent three years following Jesus and the disciples. You were at the garden of Gethsemane the night Jesus was arrested. Write what you saw and heard.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “You can sit and think about all that, then write it down. Tell everyone what Jesus did for the people, the miracles you saw happen.”

  “You’re the writer.”

  “You were there. I wasn’t. Your eyewitness account will encourage others to believe the truth—that Jesus is the Lord. He is God with us.”

  John Mark grew wistful. “Jesus said He came not to be served, but to serve others and to give His life as a ransom for many.”

  The young man’s countenance transformed when he spoke of Jesus. He relaxed into the firsthand knowledge he had of the Lord. No one would ever doubt John Mark’s love for Jesus, nor the peace given to him through his relationship with Him.

  “Write what you know so that others can come to know Him also.”

  “I can do that, Silas, but I want to do the other, too. I don’t want to run and hide anymore. I want to tell people about Jesus, people who never even imagined such a God as He is. I just don’t feel . . . prepared.”

  I knew one day Mark would stand steady before crowds and speak boldly of Jesus as Lord and Savior of all. And I told him so. God would use his eager servant’s heart. He had spent his life in synagogues and at the feet of rabbis, as I had. But his training had not extended into the marketplaces or gone so far as Caesarea and beyond.

  “If you want to go out among the Gentiles to preach, Mark, you must do more than speak their language. You must learn to think in Greek. It must become as natural to you as Aramaic and Hebrew.”

  “Can you help me?”

  “From this day forward, we will speak Greek to one another.”

  And so we did, though his mother grimaced every time she heard her son speak the language of uncircumcised, pagan Gentiles.

  “I know; I know,” she said after questioning my wisdom on the matter. “If they understand who Jesus is and accept Him as Savior and Lord, then they will no longer be goyim; they will be Christians.” Sometimes the old prejudices rose to challenge our faith in Jesus’ teaching.

  John Mark joined us. “In the eyes of Caiaphas and the rest, Mother, we are as goyim as the Greeks and Romans.”

  “You were listening at the door.”

  “Your voice carries. The old has passed away, Mother. Christians have no barriers of race, culture, or class between them.”

  “I know this in my head, but sometimes my heart is slow to follow.” She reached up and put her hands on his shoulders. He leaned down to receive her kiss. “Go with my blessing.” She waved her hand at both of us.

  Paul and Barnabas wrote letters from Antioch of Pisidia, where they preached in the synagogues. Some Jews listened and believed; many did not. A few incited the influential religious women and city leaders, and caused a riot. Paul and Barnabas were driven from the town.

  “Everywhere we go, certain Jews follow, determined to stop us from preaching Christ as Messiah in the synagogues. . . .”

  Even when they went on to Iconium and preached to Gentiles, these enemies came to poison minds against the message. As always, Paul dug in his heels. “We will stay here as long as God allows and preach Christ crucified, buried, and arisen.”

  They stayed a long time in Iconium, until Jews and Gentiles banded together in a plot to stone Paul. They escaped to Lystra and then to Derbe. Despite the risks, they continued to preach. They healed a man born a cripple in Lystra, and the Greeks thought they were gods. Paul and Barnabas tried to restrain the crowd from worshiping them, and Jews from Antioch used the opportunity to turn the mob against them.

  “Paul was stoned by the mob,” Barnabas wrote. “The Jews from Antioch dragged his body outside the city gate and dumped him there. We all went out and gathered around him and prayed. When the Lord raised him, our fear and despair lifted. Neither Jew nor Gentile dared touch Paul when we went back into the city. The Lord is glorified! Friends ministered to Paul’s wounds, and then we traveled to Derbe and preached there before returning to Lystra to strengthen believers, appoint elders, and encourage our brothers and sisters to hold firmly to their faith when persecution comes. . . .”

  Another letter arrived from Pamphylia. They preached in Perga and Attalia. Others wrote as well. “Paul and Barnabas returned by ship to Antioch of Syria. . . .”

  The reports encouraged us in Jerusalem.

  But troubles arose. False teaching crept in when disciples moved on. Returning to Antioch, Paul and Barnabas discovered trouble that threatened the faith of Gentiles and Jews alike. They came to Jerusalem to discuss the question already causing dissension between Jewish and Gentile brothers.

  “Some Jewish Christians are teaching circumcision is required of Gentiles for salvation.”

  Every member of the church council in Jerusalem had been born a Jew and followed the Law all his life. All had been circumcised eight days after birth. All had lived under the sacrificial system established by God. Even in the light of Christ crucified and risen, it was difficult to shed the laws by which we had been reared.

  “It is a sign of the covenant!”

  “The old covenant!” Paul argued. “We are saved by grace. If we demand these Gentiles be circumcised, we’re turning back to the Law which we’ve never been able to keep. Christ freed us from the weight of it!”

  None of us on the council could boast Paul’s heritage. Born a Jew, son of the tribe of Benjamin, a Pharisee and celebrated student of Gamaliel, he had lived in strictest obedience to the law of our fathers, his zeal proven in his brutal persecution of us before Jesus confronted him on the road to Damascus. Yet, here Paul stood, debating fiercely against placing the yoke of the Law upon Gentile Christians!

  “It is false teaching, my brothers! The Holy Spirit has already manifested Himself in the faith of these Gentiles. Don’t forget Cornelius!” Everyone looked at Peter, who was nodding thoughtfully.

  Paul and Barnabas reported signs and wonders that had occurred among the Greeks in Lystra, Derbe, and Iconium.

  “Surely these events are proof enough of God’s acceptance of them as His children.” Paul grew passionate. “God accepts them. How can we even consider going back to the Law from which Christ freed us? This cannot be!”

  We asked Paul and Barnabas to withdraw so that we could pray on the matter and discuss it further. His eyes blazed, but he said no more. He told me later he wanted to argue the case further, but knew the Lord was training him in patience. How I laughed over that.

  It was not an easy matter for us to decide. We were all Jews with the law of Moses ingrained in our minds from childhood. But Peter spoke for all of us when he said, “We are all saved the same way, by the undeserved grace of the Lord Jesus.” Still there were other concerns to address, reasons why some direction must be given these new Gentile Christians so that they wouldn’t be easily enticed back into the licentious worship of their culture. I had traveled more widely than most of those on the council and could speak of the issues with personal knowledge. I had seen pagan practices, and so had my father, who had traveled to Asia, Thrace, Macedonia, and Achaia and told me what he saw. We could not just say we are all saved by grace, and not say more!

  James spoke for compromise.

  While the council discussed the issues, I acted as secretary and made a list of the most important points on which we agreed. We needed to reassure the Gentile Christians of salvation through the grace of our Lord Jesus and encourage them to abstain from eating food offered to idols, engaging in sexual immoralit
y, eating meat from strangled animals, and consuming blood—all things they may have practiced while worshiping false gods. They all agreed that James and I should draft the letter.

  “Someone must carry it north to Antioch so that none there can say that Paul or Barnabas have written it.”

  James was needed in Jerusalem. Judas (also called Barsabbas) volunteered, and then suggested me as his companion.

  Peter agreed. “Since the letter will be written by your hand, Silas, you should go and testify to it. Then there will be no question of its origin.”

  Oh, how my heart beat with excitement. And dread. It had been over ten years since I had ventured outside the boundaries of Judea.

  It was time I did.

  As I prepared for the journey with Judas, Paul, and Barnabas, John Mark came to see me. His Greek was greatly improved, as was his confidence, and he believed strongly that the Lord was calling him back to Syria and Pamphylia. He asked me to speak to Paul on his behalf, which I agreed to do.

  I did not expect so firm a refusal from a man who argued so passionately for grace!

  “Let him stay in Jerusalem and serve! He was called once before and turned his back on the Lord.”

  “Called, Paul, but not fully prepared.”

  “We haven’t time to coddle him, Silas.”

  “He doesn’t ask it of you.”

  “And how long would it be before he missed his mother again?”

  His sarcasm grated. “He had reasons other than missing his family, Paul.”

  “None that convince me he is trustworthy.”

  I left the matter then, determined to take it up again the next day when he’d had time to think more on the matter. Barnabas tried to warn me.

  “It is a sin to hold a grudge, Barnabas.” We are so swift to see the faults in others, failing to see the same fault in ourselves.

  “It’s his determination to spread the message of Christ that presses him on like no other man I know. Paul cannot understand other men who are not so driven as he.”

  Ignoring his wise advice, I tried again. I thought to go to the heart of the matter.