(AN: Here is a new chapter, sorry it took so long)
Caesarea
Even as His LORD had been dragged in chains before the Sanhedrin almost thirty years ago, now Paul was being dragged before the elders of the people of Israel, to answer for almost all of the same charges: sedition, blasphemy and heresy. Of course, the one about claiming to be the Son of God was not on the list, yet even so, the out-look was not hopeful as Paul stood before his intellectual equals.
"How the mighty have fallen," Ananias said, waving his staff at Paul. "I remember a time when I admired you as the greatest son of Israel, in whom there was no guile. You were HaShem's light, to strike down the blasphemers of the Way and restore the peace and tranquility of our great people. Now look at you: old before your time, shrunken and misshapen." He turned to the others. "Deformed by his very blasphemies!" They cheered in a chorus of agreement.
"What do you have to say to yourself?" Ananias queried haughtily.
"My brothers," Paul said at last. "I have no defense, no excuses for my actions. I have fulfilled my duty to JEHOVAH in good conscience to this very day."
"Blasphemer!" Ananias shouted, pointing at Paul. "He has dared utter the name of HaShem! Guard! Strike that blasphemous mouth of his!"
The guard stepped forward and struck Paul in the mouth with his fist. After recoiling from the blow, Paul rose up, blood dripping from his mouth.
"Whitened walls!" Paul retorted. "May JEHOVAH smite you for this injustice of yours."
"Injustice?" fumed Ananias. "You speak the unutterable name of HaShem and you call us unjust?"
"You sit in the place of Moses," Paul said. "Judging me after the Torah, yet you violate the Torah by commanding me to be struck."
"Is that how you address the High Priest?" the guard asked, anger rising in his voice.
Paul chuckled mirthlessly. "I didn't know he was the High Priest. He certainly doesn't strike me as the ruler of the people of Israel, against whom no evil shall be spoken, as the Torah commands."
Murmuring echoed through the Sanhedrin, and Ananias furrowed his brow in disgust at Paul before returning to his seat of honor. Meanwhile, the bloody-mouthed Paul looked about and saw that even his accusers were not wholly united: the black, blue and white robes of the Pharisees were on the one side, while the red, white and black robes of the Sadducees were on the other side.
"I am a Pharisee," Paul stated. "Am I being called into question here because of my hope in the resurrection of the dead?"
"Resurrection?" one of the red-robed Sadducees mocked. "Ha! Hark how the fool babbles!"
"Hold your tongue!" a Pharisee returned, pointing an accusatory finger in the Sadducees' direction. "He has every right to believe in the Resurrection as you do."
"Every right to be a fool, you mean!" another Sadducee mocked.
"Elijah resurrected the widow's son by the power of HaShem!" another Pharisee stated. "That proves there is a resurrection."
"That son was a heathen!" a third Sadduccee interjected. "No one believes that story."
"It is in the Torah!" a Pharisee replied. "Those are the words of HaShem, they must be true."
"Oh, and I suppose angels exist then," came the mocking reply of another Sadducee. "You Pharisees are the ones who let this get out of hand, with your fairy tales about resurrection and angels!"
"You would deprive our people of hope!" another Pharisee shouted. "Of retribution, of peace in the arms of Abraham! You would doom us all to nothingness!"
"Such is the way of life," another haughtily replied.
The Sanhedrin broke into chaos, as the Pharisees vehemently defended the idea of the Resurrection, while the Sadducees adopted their own beliefs of nihilism.
"Oh, just wait a minute here!" one of the Pharisees interjected, striking the floor with his staff to gain attention. "This man has said nothing that's offensive to HaShem or the Torah. If he has indeed been visited by an angel or spirit, let us not fight the will of HaShem!"
It was like salt upon an open wound. The Sadducees practically jumped their Pharisee opponents, eager to shut their mouths by force if necessary. Seeing then that this assembled body was getting nowhere, and that the accused was more likely to be destroyed, Lysias did the unthinkable: he ordered his soldiers to march into the meeting chamber of the Sanhedrin and take Paul back out. It was a slight against the customs of Israel on all accounts, yet it was the only way he could save Paul's life.
The next day dawned as brightly as any spring day, but for one, Paul of Tarsus, he could not enjoy the weather. Paul realized, as he and Silas had realized that evening in the dungeons of Philippi, that all of nature seemed to be more beautiful when you were not at liberty to explore it.
As Paul was sitting in the dungeon, he heard someone crying out to him from the windows of his cell. Turning around, he saw his nephew, the young man who had such a disdain for the Romans, standing outside his cell.
"My son," Paul said to him. "What brings you to this place?"
"Loath am I to be here," the youth said. "But I have bad news. The elders of Israel have agreed to bring you before the Sanhedrin again today."
"How is that bad?"
"You don't understand! There's a plot, they're going to kill you!"
"Wait, who? Who's plotting?"
"Some men," the youth said. "Came before the High Priest. They said they'd sworn an oath, not to eat or drink until you were dead. Forty of them, I think: Ananias agreed that once you were back among the Sanhedrin, they would strike."
Paul shook his head. "No, but I must appear in Rome." He sighed, then turned to the young man. "Go to the captain, tell him your story."
"Yes, uncle." the youth then took off on his errand. Mere minutes passed until a guard appeared at the door with a key.
"Come on now, Jew," the soldier said. "Get yourself ready, we're leaving."
"Leaving?" Paul asked, his shackles clanking as he stood up.
"Yes," the guard replied. "Tonight, we're leaving for Caesarea." He scoffed. "You must be an important one, the captain's getting four hundred and seventy soldiers ready for the march north."
"For what reason?"
"To guard you, of course."
Escorted by an army of four hundred and seventy Roman soldiers - two hundred with swords, two hundred with spears and seventy a-horse - meant that nobody, not even the most radical of the Zealots, would mess with you. Of course, it did nothing to cool the spirits of the people of Jerusalem. To them, it was not the needful extradition of a political prisoner out of a hostile city, it was Rome flaunting its power, might and authority before the eyes of the people of Israel.
The march from Jerusalem to Caesarea would take roughly two to three days, depending on delays and such. Furthermore, there was no guarantee that governor Felix - a rotund little man with a variable disposition - would even see to captain Lysias' request. With this in his heart and mind, Paul made the journey to Caesarea.
All the brothers and sisters of the Way were there to greet him as he came, bound in chains, into the city. They met him with tears and some with shouts of encouragement, though none were allowed to touch him. Roman security saw little difference between a Way Cultist - or Christian, in the Latin - and a Jew, so, naturally, all were kept from physical contact with the prisoner.
The procession made their way through the city to governor Felix's mansion, where he waited in judgment. The guard was reduced and Lysias and thirty strong soldiers took Paul into the villa and presented him before the governor.
"Who is this little man in chains you bring before me?" Felix, who was actually so diminutive that he was shorter than Paul himself, asked captain Lysias.
"I have here," Lysias spoke up, producing his letter. "A letter of introduction..."
Felix waved to an attendant, who approached Lysias: he then handed the letter to the aid who then read it aloud before all.
Claudius Lysias, commander of garrison at Antonia Fortress in Jerusalem, sends greetings to thee, most excellent governor Felix. I bring before you a Jewish man, claiming Roman citizenry, in my custody, who was arrested in the courtyard of the Jewish Temple by a mob of his people, with intent to kill him. Having tried him in their Sanhedrin, I discerned that this man was accused by the Sanhedrin and the people for matters of their religious law: methought, however, that, whatever his offense may be, it was not deserving of death or imprisonment. Furthermore, word has reached my ears of a plot by the Jewish people, under the authority of the Sanhedrin, to have him put to death. Therefore, with all haste and punctuality, I have brought him before your excellency, that you may hear his defense and the charges brought against him by his accusers.
Felix then turned to Lysias. "Where are his accusers?"
"They have not arrived yet," Lysias began.
"Then how can we expect to have a trial without the prosecution?" he exclaimed. He sighed. "Nevertheless, commander, you've done well. Deliver him over to Julius, commander of the Augustan cohort, garrisoned here in the city. Once his accusers arrive, we'll start the trial."
"As you command," Lysias bowed. They then departed: for the Romans, it meant a return to Jerusalem, back to their garrison. For Paul, it meant back to the dungeons.
Two years of living in prison, two years of court cases, in which the members of the Sanhedrin and the Jews from Asia who had followed Paul to Jerusalem just to kill him, came to Caesarea, to governor Felix's court, to spout off hatred and false accusations against him. Paul gave his defense as best as possible, yet it seemed that he was, in the words of Elijah, sitting on the fence. Felix seemed either unable or unwilling to pass a final judgment for or against Paul. Whether out of a desire to appease the Jews or some secret yearning towards what Paul preached at every audience he had, no one ever knew.
Time came and went and Judaea had a new governor. This one was now to hear Paul's case anew, and, Paul prayed, there would be some resolution. Though he never really left Roman custody, Paul had a degree of freedom and was allowed to have his friends and fellows in the Way visit him. They encouraged him and he divulged in them, especially in Lucas and Timothy, what the Ruach, the Spirit, was calling him to do.
Now he stood before Porcius Festus, the new governor of Judaea, dressed in his finest robes and looking quite regal and very Roman. Indeed, he had only been in the province for ten days, and yet the Sanhedrin were busy at work on him. Ananias and the others stood in one corner, looks of hatred at the old prisoner in chains.
"My predecessor," Festus began. "Left many things undone, that is why I have summoned you to this place: to see a final decision to the matter of Paul of Tarsus."
"Death!" shouted Ananias. "He brought Gentiles into our holy temple!"
"He teaches our people to forsake the Torah, our sacred Laws of old!" another shouted.
"He preaches of this Jesus fellow," another added in Greek. "Claims that He is a King, usurping Caesar's authority!"
A cacophony of cries and accusations arose from the one side, so much that Festus had to stand up and order his guards to call attention. Once the Sanhedrin were quieted, he turned to the prisoner.
"You have heard the charges brought against you," Festus said. "What is your answer?"
"I say," Paul returned, slightly exasperated. "What I have said for the past two years: I have done nothing contrary to the Torah, the ordinances of the Temple, or the laws of the Empire."
Festus looked over at Ananias, who nodded, then turned to the prisoner.
"Your accusers," he began. "Are unhappy with their lodgings here in Caesarea. They claim that they are too close to...Gentile defilement, and therefore ask that I have you moved back to Antonia, where the judgment shall be concluded." He took his seat. "Are you willing to concede and be judged in Jerusalem?"
As Paul stood there, suddenly the Ruach HaKodesh came upon him in full force. Clearer than living memory came images, memories, flashing into his mind: things Scamander said in Philippi, things he himself had promised, the words the Ruach spoke to him in the prison of Antonia. The restrictions of old age and loss of memory were pushed away for the briefest moment, allowing the servant of God to have the moment of clarity so needful. All ears were perked, even those of Ananias and the Pharisees, as they awaited the prisoner's response.
"I appeal my case before the highest court in the Empire." Paul finally said.
Festus looked carefully at the prisoner. "What did you say?"
"If I have done anything deserving of death," Paul began. "I have no objection to dying. However, there is no weight to the accusations of the Sanhedrin, for I have done the people of Israel no injustice. As a subject of the Roman Empire, I appeal my case to the judgment of Caesar, where it should be judged."
At this, Festus scoffed. "You want to go..." But there was a sudden interruption, as a door was flung open and a servant ran before him.
"What's so important that you interrupt our judgment?" he scolded the servant.
"Forgive me, your excellency," the servant began. "But I have received this message from the Herodians." He held out a scroll, which Festus took and unrolled and read.
"It appears," Festus spoke. "That King Herod Agrippa II wishes to greet his new governor. This court is in recess, until a convenient time." He turned to the captain. "Julius, take the prisoner back to his lodging."
"Yes, excellency." the Roman saluted.
The modest, almost spartan, judgments that had occurred over the course of two years in the case of the people of Jerusalem versus Paul of Tarsus, were nothing compared to what Paul was brought before now. A hundred courtiers and attendants of the court of Herod were now present, showing their ridiculous wealth off to the eyes of Festus and the Romans. In contrast was the prisoner: old, short, bald and aged before his time, unmoved by the pomp and splendor of the Herodians. He now stood, guarded by Julius and two soldiers, before two thrones draped with velvet cushions and sheets of violet, blue and scarlet. Upon the one throne sat King Herod Agrippa II, the father of he who had put James Bar-Zebedee to death, who had imprisoned Peter and had shortly thereafter been eaten alive by maggots: at his side was his wife and Queen Bernice. On an unadorned Roman chair at King Herod's opposite side sat Festus. All about were the Pharisees and those from Asia come to see Paul slain: anger was in their hearts, for the men who had sworn the oath could not carry out their plan to kill Paul on his arrival to Jerusalem, as they had planned to accomplish before with Festus.
The governor arose and addressed all gathered here.
"King Herod," he said to Agrippa. "And you fellow courtiers." He pointed with his hand to Paul. "Behold, the man! The Jews of Caesarea, of Asia, and Jerusalem, begged my successor to have him killed. When I took office, they also told me the same: they he deserved to live no longer. I have deferred judgment for these two reasons: first, that I have found no fault in him, and second, that he has appealed his case before our Divine Emperor. However, I find myself at a loss for words as far as his indictment goes. Therefore, that a proper letter of introduction and indictment may be writ before the Emperor, and that your grace, the King of Judaea, may see that I, your new governor...am a just man."
Cheers came from those around, and Festus took a bow, then walked back to his chair.
"The prisoner," King Herod said. "May now speak in his own defense."
Paul lifted his bald, aged head, no yarmulke of prayer upon his shining crown, and smiled as he looked upon the King.
"How dare you smile in court!" growled Festus. "Do you have no respect for the law, to which you have appealed, and on which your life depends?"
"Forgive me," Paul said. "I only smiled because I think myself most fortunate to be sharing my case before King Herod."
"Why is that?" Queen Bernice asked.
"Your Majesty," Paul said, turning to the king. "Do you not call yourself the King of the Jews?"
"It is my right," Herod returned.
"Therefore, you are familiar with our customs and with the Torah, our Law?" Paul asked.
"This is so," Herod replied.
"Then," Paul began. "I beg your patience as I relate my story."
"Say on."
"The people of Jerusalem," Paul said. "Know how I conducted myself in my youth, they knew me from the first. Ask any one of them, they will tell you that I was a Pharisee, a member of the strictest sect of our faith. I myself was once the greatest enemy of the followers of the Way: with authority from the High Priests, I put them in prison, I cast my vote to their deaths, even attempting to make them blaspheme the name of the Blessed One, in whose name I thought I was fighting.
"One day, your Majesty, almost thirty years ago, I was en route to Damascus, with a letter of approval from the High Priest to persecute the followers of the Way, when I saw a light from Heaven and a voice called out to me: 'Saul, why are you persecuting Me?' - for I was called Sha'ul then. I asked who it was, and the voice said: 'I AM Joshua' - who is called Jesus in the Greek - 'the same One you are persecuting. Rise up and go into Damascus.' Therefore I went, having lost my sight, and this same Jesus sent a man to me who restored my sight, and I was given..."
He paused.
"Do go on." Herod urged.
"I apologize, your Majesty," Paul said. "I have not spoken of this to anyone." He continued, but spoke slowly and with tears in his eyes. "I had a vision from the LORD, in which I saw all that I was to suffer in His name, but He told me this thing also: 'My Grace is sufficient for thee. Get thee up, for I have made you a minister and a witness, both of the things you have seen, and what shall be revealed to you. For humility's sake, My own hand shall deliver you up from the hands of those that hate Me, both of thy people and of the Gentiles, to whom I shall send you: that you may open their eyes, turning them from darkness unto light and from the power of Satan unto that of God, that they may receive forgiveness of their sins and an eternal inheritance among those who are sanctified by their faith in Me.'
"To this commission, your Majesty, I have not disobeyed. I declared, first to those of Damascus, then to Jerusalem, then to the Gentiles, that they should repent, turn to God and bring forth the fruits of repentance. For this alone, the people of Jerusalem seized me in the Temple, attempting to kill me. By the hand of God alone, here I stand: I can do nothing else but witness, unto the great and the lowly, all that Moses and the prophets have prophesied of old: that the Christ would suffer and die, and be the first to rise from the dead, to proclaim light unto the Jews and the Gentiles."
For a moment, the judgment seat was silent as all stood in awe at the simple, earnest faith of the old man. Even the two upon the thrones were moved by the speech made.
Suddenly, the solemn silence was broken by laughter from Festus.
"You're obviously well-learned," Festus mocked. "Now we see that you've quite beside yourself with knowledge! Mad, I say!"
"I am not insane, most noble governor," Paul retorted, his voice as earnest as before. "I speak the words of truth and reason. His Majesty knows these things: I believe in my heart that none of them have escaped his attention, for they were not done in secret." He turned then to the king. "Your Majesty, do you believe in the prophets? I know you do."
Silence once more, as Festus looked over at the king and saw that his brow was furrowed in thought, as if he were taking the old prisoner seriously.
"The governor may say what he likes about you," King Herod said. "As for me, you are a skilled orator: I daresay, you've almost persuaded me to champion the cause of the Way."
"I would to God," Paul replied. "That not only you, but everyone who hears my words this day, become as I am." The sound of clanking chains was heard as Paul brought up both of his arms to the level of his shoulders to bear before the king. "Except for these."
Those gathered laughed at the old man's jest. Herod, meanwhile, summoned one of his servants and whispered instructions to him, who then whispered these instructions to Festus.
"A recess," Festus announced. "As His Majesty and myself discuss the final details of the case."
He then rose and walked towards a private adjourning room. Behind him, the King and Queen rose from their thrones, their servants and attendants following after them.
"Hold!" Queen Bernice commanded, holding up one hand. At this, her attendants, as well as those of the King and the King himself, came to a halt. She then turned and looked upon the old man.
"This man has done nothing wrong," she said. "He does not deserve to be in chains, much less on trial for his life."
"Even so," the King replied, looking at the old man with a look of thinly-veiled condescension. "He is a fool. He could have been set free, had he not appealed to the Emperor."
Without further ado, they departed and Paul remained, standing in chains, with the courtiers going about their business and the soldiers at ease. How much longer would he have to wait? The commission still lay before him, and yet it seemed that the kings and princes of the world were intent on keeping him from that goal. Sometimes, it seemed, the entire world was against him, either to kill him or to hinder his mission.
Almost an hour later, Festus appeared, a determined look on his face. He stood now, towering, before the old, short man.
"You want to go to Rome?" Festus asked him. "To Rome you shall go!"
(AN: That was a nice, long chapter. I hope you waited, it was well worth it.)
(As you can see, the language changed without warning. After this chapter, it will be solely in Greek. The 'vision' that Paul relates is based on Biblical proof: for the purpose of this story, it is the 'thorn' vision. Lastly, we see the first appearance of the word "Christian", rather than kristianos.)
(Much fun, interesting stuff to happen in the next chapter, so don't go away!)