(AN: Name for this chapter comes both from Ecclesiastes and from Deep Space Nine [though that phrase was from Solomon before Star Trek]. Obviously, you can guess what is about to happen.)
Nor the Battle to the Strong
"'In the presence of God and of His Son, Jesus the Christ, who shall judge the living and the dead at the coming of His Kingdom, I charge you to preach the Word, being prepared to do so in good season and bad. Reprove, rebuke and exhort all with patience and doctrine. The time is soon coming when people shall not endure goodly doctrine, but shall elect false teachers unto themselves, who preach after their own lusts, turning their ears from the words of truth unto lies. Watch thyself in all things, good Timothy, enduring in afflictions: do the work of an evangelist, giving full proof of thy ministry.'"
Paul took a moment to pause as he reached over his shoulder, feeling the chill of the night. Lucas stood at hand, ready to offer whatever aid he could render. The soldier was sleeping: though it was an offense worth of death, after two years, he trusted that Paul was not eager to escape, since he made absolutely no attempt.
"'Please,'" Paul continued, writing further in his letter. "'Come to see me as soon as possible: hopefully before the winter comes. Demas left the ministry for Thessaloniki, loving this life more than that which is to come. Crescens has gone to Galatia, Titus to Dalmatia, Tychicus to Ephesus, Erastus in Corinth, and Trophimus sick at Miletus. Only Lucas is with me.'"
He paused, reminiscing as old men are wont to do. So long a life he had endured: now he was indeed old, not merely withered. The memories of past misdeeds came back to haunt him as he penned this letter, praying to God to forgive him of everything he had done, whether in mistake or out of zeal.
"'Bring John Mark with you when you come: he has been very helpful to me in the ministry. If you happen to stop in Troy, bring my cloak with you from the house of Carpus, as well as my books and scrolls. Beware of Alexander the copper-smith, he has done much evil to me and withstands the Spirit vehemently: may the LORD reward him according to his works.'" He sighed, then added a happier note.
"'On your way through Italy, give my best regards to Priscilla and Aquila, as well as those of the house of Onesiphorus.'"
Just then, there was a knock at the door and all stood up, including the guard. Lucas walked to the door and opened it up: there stood Julius, clad in Roman armor.
"You know why I'm here," he said to Paul. The old man's face lit up as he heard those words.
"Then willingly I will go," Paul said. Suddenly, Julius shut the door and looked at them severely.
"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," he said.
"I don't understand," Lucas interjected. "I thought you were bound..."
"I am," he replied. "But I won't, even on pain of death."
"No, I must stand before Caesar." Paul added.
"That's no longer an option," Julius stated. "I'm sure you remember the fire."
"Yes," Paul said ruefully. "God preserve those who were hurt therein."
"Caesar has claimed the Christians are responsible for the fire," he said. "You are condemned as 'rebels of the Empire, foes of democracy and pests to society.' They've already captured the one called Peter, he is being held in custody. Thousands more are dying daily in the arenas or in torture chambers."
Paul and Lucas were aghast at this revelation, both of them sitting down as they heard the horrible, earth-shattering news.
"It's absurd!" Paul said.
"Several have confessed," Julius stated. "Under...torture. Caesar has even ordered the confiscation of any written material by those known to be Christians: the Senate, under Caesar's orders, have made a committee to examine them for seditious content."
"All the more reason for me to appear before Caesar," Paul insisted. "That I convince him of our innocence."
Julius sighed. "It's no good. You and I both know who really started the fire." A moment of silence followed, as neither of them wanted to speak it aloud, for the guard was listening as well.
"To accuse him would mean certain death," Julius said. "That is why you must flee. Peter fled at first, but the fool came back, saying that he was going where he did not wish to go, that it was his LORD's will." He sighed, then turned to Paul.
"I cannot believe a loving, merciful God, as you preach Him to be, would tell His servant to throw himself into the arms of death." Paul looked at Julius surprisingly, who nodded in reply.
"Yes, I do believe. That is why I know the brotherhood cannot afford losing someone as holy as you, that's why you have to go! The road to Caesar ends only in death."
Paul straightened himself up as best he could.
"The LORD has guarded me all these years," he said. "I have been beaten thirty-nine times by my own people five times over, shipwrecked three times, spent a night and day adrift at sea, stoned with stones, flogged with reeds three times, constantly threatened by bandits, by Gentiles, by my own people, in danger wherever I go: I have been hungry, thirsty, cold, naked, deprived of sleep: yet in all that, my LORD has not forsaken me. He will deliver me out of the mouth of the lion and all of his evil works, preserving me for His heavenly Kingdom."
Julius sighed, and Paul reached up to embrace him.
"Even if I am to die," Paul said. "I am not afraid. I am ready to give my life for the word of God and the faith of Jesus." He heard, muffled in his shoulder, a sob from the throat of the Roman centurion.
"Do not weep for me," he finished. "We will be together again in Heaven. Remember what I told our friends in Corinth and Thessaloniki?"
"About the Resurrection?" Julius asked.
"Yes," Paul said. "Keep those words in mind, for they are my hope and my assurance, and hope never disappoints."
They parted, and Paul turned to his guard, telling him to make ready to take him before Caesar.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Julius asked.
"Yes," Paul said. "Make sure this letter gets out of Rome and into Timothy's hands." He said, handing the unfinished letter to him. "Also..." He turned to Lucas, who nodded and presented a heavy scroll.
"What is this?" Julius asked.
"The Gospel of Jesus," Lucas said. "Would to God that this was not destroyed by the enemies of God. If you can insure its protection, I would be most grateful."
Julius nodded, taking the heavy scroll in his hand.
"Go, Paul." he said. "And may God be with you."
The final judgment took place at night, in the gardens of the Emperor's palace. With him was Poppaea, and precious few other advisers and members of the Senate. Few dared to come before Caesar, especially on this occasion. All about the edge of the gardens were tall flaming torches, about as thick around as a small tree: each of them were blazing with fire. As Paul, shackled between two guards, came before the Emperor, he smelled a hideous acrid stench.
"Paul of Tarsus," Nero spoke with venomous hatred upon his tongue. "It has been decided to re-open your case, in light of recent events."
"Caesar," Paul said. "With all humility and respect, I assure you that no Christian hand has ever been raised in violence against you or your people."
"That I highly doubt," Caesar returned. "Is it not true that your cult have no love for the gods?"
"We serve only one god, Mighty Caesar."
"And you claim that all men are evil," Nero added. "That there is none good, not even Caesar."
"That is true," Paul said, hanging his head.
"It's not enough that you hate mankind with the worst kind of hatred," Nero said. "But now you threaten the safety of my realm with your evil."
Just then, two Roman guards brought forth a young woman, whose hands were clasped together as she prayed to the One she and Paul both loved. Paul watched in horror as the woman was tied to a large wooden pole, then had buckets of oil dumped upon her. The pole was then raised up on the edge of the garden and set to flame. He wept as he heard her cries and screams echoing out into the night.
"Music!" Nero clapped his hands, a smile on his face at the pain and suffering he was inflicting on that woman.
"Caesar," Paul said. "What heinous crime has that woman committed?"
"Her?" he asked. "She called upon the name of your god."
"And that was a crime worth of such a cruel death?"
"I will decide who dies and how they will die!" Nero roared at Paul, his face contorting into a hideous mask of rage, the likes of which would have made even Annas and Caiphas, whose faces had taken on a similar visage of evil at the death of Stephen, cower in fear and cover their faces with their veils.
"For the sake of peace and prosperity in the Empire," Nero continued. "It is against Roman Law to call upon the name of Jesus Christ: all offenders will die." He then sat down and turned his attention back to Paul.
"Now I see," he said. "Why your own people wanted you dead. You Christians are a disease, a flood of poisoned water vomited from different tongues: but I have two of them in my grasp, and my hand rests upon the knife that shall sever them! Speak now your defense, Jew, for your life hangs upon it!"
Once more, Paul felt the Spirit of Holiness upon him, giving him one last moment to appeal to the monarch. Looking about, he saw that no one rose to stand in his own defense. Not even Lucas or Peter were permitted to stand with him, or any Roman lawyers. He was indeed alone in the flesh, but he knew that he was not truly alone. He prayed silently for all those here, then addressed the Emperor.
"Great Caesar," Paul began. "I have never offended the laws or ordinances of the governments of man. I have always taught my friends and my fellow believers to subject themselves to the authorities placed over them, for dominion comes from God. Yea, so zealous was I for the law that, in my youth, I myself persecuted all those who called upon the name of Jesus. During one such mission of persecution, I was thrown off my horse by a light shining from Heaven.
"As I stood there, a voice called out to me: 'Saul, why are you persecuting Me?' I asked the voice who it was: 'I AM Jesus, the same One you are persecuting.' From that day forward, my past was forgiven me, and I have lived in the hope and affirmation of the Resurrection of the body at the Day of Judgment.
"For, I must tell you, Caesar, that the LORD I worship loved all the world so much that He gave us His only begotten Son, Jesus. He lived a life without sin and so made it possible for us to do so. He died, fulfilling the Law of my ancestors, and rose again that all might be justified and made right with God. Even as He was being nailed upon the cross, He prayed to God for the sake of His accusers, that what they did would not be held to their charge. I am convinced that the LORD Jesus is love, for He told us to love one another, even as He loved the whole world, and died that we should not, but have everlasting life."
Suddenly, Paul held out one hand and gestured in pleading and longing toward Caesar.
"Nero, please: there is no condemnation for those who believe in the LORD Jesus. Cast your sins at Jesus' feet, accept His mercy and invite Him into your heart. He died for your sins, Caesar, and would do so again, for your sake alone. He will give you salvation, but only if you want it. Do you want His salvation?"
All the courtiers and the soldiers held their collective breaths at Paul's audacity. The withered old man held his hand out just the same, eyes pleading with tears for the sake of Nero's salvation. The Emperor's gaze was unreadable as he rose to his feet and strode forward, now face-to-face with Paul. The only sound that filled the air were the last, choking, dying screams of those freshly planted Christians whose bodies burned to light the night for the Emperor's pleasure and delight.
For a moment, a look unfamiliar to Nero's face passed over it: it seemed as though he felt true remorse. Was it possible that this God of Paul's was so powerful that all he had done could be forgiven, everything washed clean and he could be a pure and just ruler, as he envisioned himself?
Paul got his answer in a sudden moment, with a spit of foul-smelling mucus in his face.
"I spit on you and your god!" Nero hissed. "I would rather burn for all time than grovel at the feet of your weak god and your dead Christ Jesus! I don't need your god, for I am the god of my own life and death, as I will be of yours!"
Paul raised his face, glowing as Stephen's had that moment in the Temple of Jerusalem, thirty years ago.
"I am ready to be offered," Paul said. "The time of my departure is at hand."
"I wonder," Nero said. "How you shall mourn in the Afterlife, when you see that there is no god."
"I am sure in my hope and election," Paul said firmly.
"And I am sure," Nero replied. "As clearly as I see your withered old face before mine, that you shall die and there will be no hope for you, no resurrection, no Elysium to bring you rest. You will die in obscurity and no one will mourn you!" He calmed down, then smiled a self-confident grin of victory. "But, before you go, I will impart this last final wisdom to you: know that when you leave this place, you will die. And you will die in the knowledge that your life, spent in this vain-service to a nonexistent god, will have been spent for nothing." He then turned to the guards.
"Take him away."
In a room in the city of Rome, Julius met with Eubulus, Pudens, Linus, Claudia, Priscilla, Aquila and Lucas, those few who had remained un-captured and, for the moment, living.
"What will happen to us now?" Aquila asked. "Peter and Paul arrested, and yet God does nothing."
"We must stay here," Eubulus said. "And encourage the brothers and those who can be converted. They need a shepherd, and we cannot abandon them in their time of need."
"But this seems to be the fulfillment," Lucas said. "Of that which Jesus said, concerning the time of the end."
"What do you mean?" Linus asked.
"I've been with Paul," Lucas began. "I've read some of his letters, and there was something in his last letter to Thessaloniki which gives me worry. He said that there would be the arrival of the Man of Sin, one who would oppose and exalt himself over everything that is God or worshiped."
"Who but Nero?" Pudens queried.
"Exactly," Lucas stated. "Furthermore, Jesus Himself gave warning that these things would happen at the end of time: that all nations would hate us and there would be earthquakes and pestilences in high places."
"Could the end be near?" Eubulus asked in dread.
"Julius?" Priscilla asked the centurion. "What is it?"
The centurion looked at them one by one, and saw that they were all staring back at him.
"I believe," he said, with tears in his eyes. "That I had a vision. In it, I saw an angel who told me to lead the flock into the mountains, and to take the Word with them."
"There are mountains to the north," Priscilla stated. "No one has ever passed over them in almost three hundred years. They say there are valleys there, safe from the outside."
"Then that is where we must go," he said. "I will find as many as are willing and lead them by night into the valleys of the Alps."
"May God go with you," Eubulus said quietly.
"And what of we who remain?" Aquila asked.
"Keep the faith," Lucas said. "And we shall pray for you, for all of us, and especially for Paul and Peter." He sighed within himself. "A sorry time we have come to, when those who have looked upon the face, stood in the presence and heard the words of the Son of God are butchered like cattle."
They said little else, hanging their heads in silence. After a while, Julius made ready to depart and spread the word among the believers. As he was preparing to leave, Lucas stopped him and gave to him the heavy scroll.
"God be with you." were his last words to him.
Of a truth I tell you, when you were young, you clothed yourself and went wherever you chose. But when you are old, you will reach out and be clothed by another and taken where you do not wish to go.
In a dark, filthy cell somewhere in Rome, the fisher of men from Galilee mused on the last words directed privately to him and to him alone that Jesus spoke to him. He knew it was madness to remain in Rome, especially after the fire. He had meant to escape, but something drew him back and he was captured.
"Wake up, old man!" one of the soldiers shouted to him. "It's time."
Feebly, Peter reached out and felt strong arms lift him up to his feet. His cloak was thrown upon his body. The wooden door of his cell whined in protest as the guards pushed it open and led Peter up the stairs out of the dungeon.
"Is it true," one of the soldiers asked him. "That your Jesus made you the Rock of His church?"
"I heard," the other added. "He has the keys of Heaven in his keeping."
"You should have run, old man," the other said.
"You know what I heard?" the other laughed in mockery. "They say that anything you do to someone, you are doing it to their God."
The other joined in laughter. "Good, let us go and crucify their God again!"
In a second cell, no cleaner or brighter than another, the rabbi languished away. The time for his end was nigh, this he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt. Nero's first reception of him was feigned, a deception from the depths of Belial. Now he sat there, a tent-maker turned rabbi, once the mortal enemy of the Cult of the Way, the kristianos, the Christians. Now he was their greatest champion, going forward to die. Even in these last moment, when victory was so near, his heart began to fail: his hope seemed in vain and there was no light at the end of the tunnel. He knew that it led to one place: a private room where the swordsman waited.
The door rattled as a guard approached.
"Paul of Tarsus," he said. "It is time."
Paul lifted himself up off his feet, and joined the guard as they made their way down the prison hall to the executioner.
"May I ask of you one final request?" Paul asked.
"Yes," the guard said, trying not to look the prisoner in the eyes. He felt uncomfortable doing so, especially in light of what he was about to witness.
"Tell Timothy this," Paul said, a tear in his eye as he spoke. "I am ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought the good fight, I have kept the faith, I have finished the race: henceforth there is, laid up for me, a crown of Righteousness, which my LORD, the Righteous Judge, shall give upon His day to me, and to all who have waited for His coming."
There was his answer, both to Timothy and to Caesar. He would face the unknown, in faith that he went forward from victory to greater victory, coming off more than conqueror by the grace and power of He who loved him and all of us. In dying, he would die in the knowledge that he had completed his work. What began the first day he heard of Jesus, when he fought against the urges of his heart, then came to fruition the afternoon on the road to Damascus, and was finally revealed in the house of Judas by the Spirit through Ananias the elder, was now fulfilled: he had completed His Great Commission. He then turned to the guard as they mounted the stairs and entered the last room.
"May the grace of our LORD Jesus Christ be with you."
(AN: Paul and Peter's parts in this story have come to an end.)
(Nero now becomes as you remember him, and there are references to all sorts of this in this chapter [such as the people fleeing into the mountains: a la the "true" Waldenses, ere they were called that by the Church of Rome to falsly associate them with Peter Waldo and therefore discredit them]. Once again, not a fan of apostolic succession, or the inverted cross: it was said that the Romans got bored of simply crucifying people one way, so they did it however [including upside down]. They probably would have thought it fun to crucify the greatest Apostle in a manner in mockery of the way in which his LORD died, just as how these "neo-pagans" think it fun to wear inverted crosses in the same fashion, though they don't know that they're praising the Roman Catholic church by using the inverted cross [because they use it for the worship of Peter].)
(Yes, the burning alive of Christians and using them as torches was real, and I depicted it in this story as being the setting for Paul's final judgment. Kind of sensational, but, as this is fan-fiction, I'm allowed at least that much artistic license, as well as how the 2nd letter to Timothy gets finished. I'm sure it wasn't finished like that, but that was done for dramatic effect. And many do regard those as Paul's last words.)
(I'm sad to say that this chapter didn't move me as much as Christ's death from Joshua: probably because I felt personally responsible for the content in that [both because I had to actually write out Christ suffering and that I knew that my own sins caused that]. As far as Paul is concerned, I would like to think of him as a flawed hero, in the same way as Moses and Abraham are. Good, yes, but not without their mistakes. That, I think, is what we should take away from his portion of the story. Also, have you noticed that I've only had one direct divine/spiritual interaction depicted where Jesus speaks to mankind. That is for a reason, which shall be elaborated on in the latter half of this story, so don't leave.)