Man in White Page 10

  Saul came quietly in the door, followed by Cononiah and Shemei, the Hebronites. They followed him from the Temple steps, ready to be useful against the Nazarenes again, Shemei dragging his clubfoot on the cobblestones as he shuffled along and Cononiah walking alongside with his one good eye, wide and piercing. Saul represented the Temple, and to them the Temple meant money. A few pieces of silver now and then was better than the few coppers they might get begging. They sat unnoticed near the back of the room, listening and watching the service of the Nazarenes. The Temple guards and Roman soldiers waited outside the door, to be called upon to make their entrance at Saul’s command.

  Barnabas continued, “I was one of the seventy disciples whom Jesus sent to preach his word. Another brother and I went to Caesarea Philippi to work in the regions around about. My companion, Aristotle of Crete, knew the Lord’s close companions James and John, sons of Zebedee, as well as Cephas, who is called Peter. There are those of us who have been given a heavenly dispensation. It is an honor, a blessing, this dispensation, yet it carries with it an obligation, an obligation to share the precepts of God’s plan of salvation for humankind. In our receiving and sharing these insights from firsthand experience with the Master and his friends, we also share with you the peace and consolation I just spoke of. For your instruction and for the further edification of the Lord Jesus, I introduce to you my friend and brother Aristotle of Crete. Aristotle was there at the village at the foot of the mountain called Hermon the day the Lord came back with his inner circle of disciples. I will ask Aristotle to bear witness of certain things concerning the Lord to you at this time.”

  Barnabas sat down, and as he did so, he noticed the Pharisee sitting in the back near the door. It’s the persecutor Saul of Tarsus, thought Barnabas, and he is looking for another Stephen. Barnabas, however, made no indication of recognition. He slowly closed his eyes in prayer as Aristotle began to speak.

  “I will get you sooner or later,” Saul said to himself, thinking of Barnabas and studying him. “A heavenly dispensation? Does that mean a divine directive? Their distortion of the true worship is so diversified now that their total abandonment of the Law is their natural course. Well, not in the synagogues of God!” he breathed, clenching his fist. “Not even in the Synagogue of the Isles of the Sea. I will hear out this Aristotle, then I shall winnow this congregation.” He looked around at his two witnesses. The Hebronite brothers were attentive as the tall, lean Cretan began speaking.

  “Brothers and sisters,” began Aristotle, and when he said “sisters,” Saul noticed the women sitting among the men near the front of the congregation. His rage increased. There is no area of synagogue service that they aren’t practicing in a heretical manner, he thought.

  The speaker continued. “I have witnessed the miracles and heard the words of the Master on many occasions. I followed him and his disciples for many months, as did many other men and women throughout Galilee, Samaria, and Judea. I longed to be among his close disciples, to work only for him, to live only to serve him. For, from the very first, I was convinced that he was more than a man.”

  Saul’s hand opened and closed on an imaginary sword handle. Just outside the door the guards had swords. The prophets spoke of God’s sword cleaving for righteousness and justice.

  “I am armed for the stroke of your judgment, O Lord,” he prayed.

  Cononiah and Shemei looked back and forth from Saul to Aristotle, waiting for the moment Saul would conclude this speech. But Saul would hear the man out. The more he spoke, the more damaging he would be to his own cause.

  “Barnabas and I and many other of the followers were instructed by the Master to wait in Caesarea Philippi while he and Peter and the sons of Zebedee went to Mt. Hermon. No one knew why he chose only the three to accompany himself, but I was certain that it was for a very special reason.

  “When they returned from the mountain, there was dissension between James and John over trifles such as who would be greatest in the Lord’s kingdom. These arguments were founded on a lack of their understanding his words.

  “The Master brought them to a speedy understanding of their position with himself, however, by the use of a simple illustration. He took a little child in his arms and said to them, ‘Whoever receives this child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me receives him that sent me.’ Then,” said Aristotle, “he dissolved the conflict with one sentence. He said, ‘Whoever is the humblest among you shall be the greatest.’”

  “Rubbish,” said Saul under his breath. “The philosophy of a half-witted do-gooder.”

  “I noticed a marked change in Peter from the time he came down from the mountain,” said Aristotle. “He even looked different. And he didn’t engage in the petty arguments with the other disciples. He looked upon the Master with a new kind of wonder. I asked some of the others what had happened on the mountain, and they couldn’t tell me. They only said that Jesus had told Peter, James, and John not to speak of it for a while. It was later, on the way to Jerusalem, that James and John confided to me the miracle on the mountain.”

  The miracle on the mountain, thought Saul. More Egyptian sticks to impress the rabble.

  Aristotle continued.“They were praying, the four of them on the very top of the mountain, when suddenly Jesus’ countenance was changed to an unearthly beauty. They stood away from him, trembling with fear, and watched as his whole being became glorified. Even his clothing was changed. His robe took on a radiance and whiteness that no cloth on earth has ever had. A mantle of gold appeared around his chest, and the hairs on his head turned pure white. His hands and his feet shone with a heavenly glow. The disciples looked upon him with wonder.”

  The high, thin air on Mt. Hermon, the cold, and the wind, thought Saul. Come now. Tricks, delusions, and illusions. I want to hear what you really have to say, you Greek dreamer.

  “Then,” said Aristotle, “as he stood glorified before them, there suddenly appeared with him Moses and Elijah.”

  Saul gasped and sat up straight. Moses! Elijah! Cononiah and Shemei looked questioningly at Saul. His face was flushed in anger. Realizing that his assistants were looking to him for a sign, he contained himself. He shook his head and held up his hand for them to wait.

  The suppressed consternation of the persecutor was not lost on Barnabas. From his seat near Aristotle, he silently observed Saul’s response at the mention of Moses and Elijah. He then closed his eyes and listened prayerfully as his friend continued.

  “Moses, Elijah, and the Lord Jesus conversed at great lengths as the three disciples stood off watching and listening to the miraculous manifestation. Jesus was speaking to Moses and Elijah of his coming death, burial, and resurrection. The three listeners did not understand most of what they heard. But part of what Jesus was saying they took to mean that when he died, his spirit would go into the world of the dead and he would free the souls of the righteous, of the faithful to the Covenant, and bring them into paradise.”

  Saul shook his head, trying to follow the meaning of this mad dialogue. They have gone to great lengths of desecration, he thought. This is far enough.

  Aristotle continued, and again Saul paused before calling in the guards and soldiers. The little children were paying rapt attention. They had moved closer to the speaker and were listening in awe. No one in the congregation made a sound.

  “Suddenly,” said Aristotle, “a bright cloud covered the three glorious beings, and the voice of God was heard to say, ‘This is my beloved Son. Obey him!’”

  Saul was instantly upon his feet. “Blasphemy!” he shouted, pointing at Aristotle. Saul stepped out into the aisle and walked halfway through the congregation as the guards and soldiers came in the door behind him. The children were terrified and ran to their parents, some of whom were praying, some of whom stared at Saul in fear.

  Barnabas also was on his feet. Saul stopped when Barnabas pointed his finger at him and said sternly. “Saul of Tarsus, you, as a master of the Law, know it is improper
to interrupt a guest speaker until he has finished.”

  Saul shot back, “He was finished when he stood in this synagogue and related that abomination. He equated the Carpenter with Moses and Elijah, then proceeded on to further verbal desecration by claiming God’s voice was heard, calling Jesus his Son.” Saul started to turn to the soldiers, but Barnabas spoke more loudly.

  “Let him finish. You will do what you will do, so let the speaker finish what he has to say.”

  Saul screamed at Aristotle, “Speak, then, blasphemer. Seal your conviction.” He stood in the aisle with his legs spread, his hands on his hips.

  Aristotle was calm. He had not moved from his spot, but because he had been distracted by Saul’s outburst, it took him a moment to continue his story. Barnabas sat back down, and the children clung to their parents, watching the man in the aisle.

  “When the cloud disappeared,” said Aristotle, “Jesus stood there alone and appeared again to be in human flesh and blood. The three disciples were afraid and confused, and Peter, running to the Master, was so overcome with what they had just seen and heard that he stumbled over his own words. He said to Jesus, ‘It is beautiful here.’ Jesus didn’t answer immediately, so Peter, trying to say the proper thing following such an inspiring experience, said, ‘Let us build three tabernacles, one for Moses, one for Elijah, and one for yourself.’”

  Saul, thinking Aristotle was finished, took a step forward, but again Barnabas stopped him. “Before you proceed, Saul, son of Benjamin, I would like to comment briefly upon the words of Peter concerning the tabernacles.”

  Saul waited, staring at Barnabas.

  Barnabas continued, speaking kindly and quietly to the congregation, as if Saul were not there. “Whether or not Peter knew it at the time, his spiritual eye was seeing Moses as the Law, Elijah as the Prophecy, and Jesus as the fullness and fulfillment of both. The chief prophets of the Most High and the Son.”

  “Are you speaking on behalf of this man or for yourself?” Saul screamed at Barnabas.

  “Neither,” said the Cypriot. “I speak with the authority of the Holy Spirit.”

  “Tie that man to a column and scourge him!” Saul shouted to the soldiers, pointing to Aristotle. Then standing where Aristotle had stood, he addressed the congregation.“Deny your allegiance to Jesus of Nazareth and go free. Stay and witness the punishment of this blasphemer and then go to prison and to trial with him.”

  No one moved at first. The people looked at one another and at Barnabas. Saul shouted again as the first lash of the Roman soldier’s whip cracked against the naked back of Aristotle. His wife screamed and fell at his feet.

  The children were under the benches, cowering and crying. Aristotle shook his wife with his foot and said, “Take the children and go.” The lash struck again.

  The woman shook her head, refusing. “I will stay with you,” she said.

  People were beginning to leave the synagogue. Some of them took the children with them and hurried out. The ones who remained, more than half the congregation, moved forward at Barnabas’s beckoning and came as close as they could to Aristotle. Following Barnabas’s example, they knelt and began praying as the lash continued to fall on Aristotle’s back.

  The Roman scourge was severe punishment. Thirty-nine times the whip was laid to the back and shoulders. The instrument was made of a short handle to which were attached long thick strips of leather, pointed at the end and tipped with small sharp pieces of flint, which cut into the flesh with each blow. The reason for thirty-nine blows was the saying, “Forty lashes are enough to kill a man, so if he dies from only thirty-nine, it is his own fault.”

  The soldiers and Temple guards had the kneeling congregation surrounded by now, and when the man’s punishment was completed, they would all be taken to prison. Aristotle would be tried and executed as Stephen was. The rest would there be scourged as this man was.

  The woman on the floor raised her head and screamed when she saw blood running down her husband’s legs from the cuts of the leather and small pieces of flesh torn out from the flint. Saul leaped over and kicked her in the stomach, shouting, “Stand away from the condemned!”

  Barnabas was instantly on his feet. “Leave the woman alone,” he commanded. Saul took a sword from the guard and, with the tip of it in the hollow of Barnabas’s throat, backed him onto the altar and against the wall.

  “Do you really want to die also?” Saul asked bitingly. The tip of the sword had slightly pierced Barnabas’s skin, and a drop of blood ran down the sword. “You shall,” said Saul. “You shall, but in due time, when I have used you to bring all your friends and followers of the Beggar Rabbi out of hiding. When I have obliterated your congregations, then you will have finished your part in God’s plan for me. Then you shall die also.”

  “I do not fear you, Saul of Tarsus,” said Barnabas.“Do what you will with this body. My soul is with my Lord.”

  Saul clenched his teeth and continued to hold the sword at Barnabas’s throat. With the pain of the sharp point piercing his skin, Barnabas shouted out without moving his head or even his eyes, “It is with much tribulation that we enter into the kingdom of heaven! Aristotle, bear up under the whip! God give you grace and strength.”

  “Keep your mouth shut,” Saul said to Barnabas, his trembling hand causing a larger cut on Barnabas’s throat.

  “Have courage!” Barnabas cried to the congregation. “You will overcome this world in him who overcame for us!”

  Saul drew his sword back and swung the heavy weapon with all his might, striking Barnabas on the side of the head with the flat of the blade and instantly knocking him unconscious.

  The last of the thirty-nine stripes were laid on the flayed back of Aristotle.“Drag him out of here,” said Saul to the guards and soldiers. “Take all these people with him! Every one of them! Men and women! Out!” He slapped the sword across the back of the bleeding body of Aristotle and the backs of the others as they passed through the door; they were all being prodded and abused by the soldiers as they went.

  Saul looked around. The place was empty except for the unconscious Barnabas on the floor and an elderly man who still knelt in prayer toward the back. He had been missed by the guards. Saul walked back to him and nudged him with his toe.“Get up!” he said. The old man only leaned farther over, continuing to pray.“Get up!” Saul said again, louder. The man remained in prayer.

  Saul became furious. He slapped the man sharply with the sword. When the man still refused to rise, Saul plunged the sword deep into the man’s hip. As he drew it out, the man moaned and fell over on his side. Saul took the man by the foot and dragged him to the door, leaving a trail of blood from his bleeding hip. Pulling and kicking him out into the street, Saul called to a guard to come back and get the man. The guard carried the whimpering man up the street to join the group on their way to prison.

  Saul paused a moment, looked back into the synagogue, and observed that Barnabas was still unconscious. He looked down at the floor at the blood, then at his own feet, and saw that he was standing in the blood. A chill passed over him for a moment, and he trembled. The blood! “The stream of blood,” he said almost aloud, and his mind went back and locked in on the dream. He paused in the doorway, and for a moment the terror of the dream flooded over him. But just for a moment. Then he steeled himself, raised his left hand, and shouted into the empty room, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.”

  The traumatic dissemination of the congregation of the Nazarenes from the Synagogue of the Isles of the Sea was followed by similar incidents in other synagogues over the next few days. So successful was Saul’s mission that finally after two weeks the followers of the Carpenter of Galilee were not to be seen in public worship. For a great deal of that fortnight, he tried to catch Barnabas conducting public service again, but Barnabas did not return to the Synagogue of the Isles of the Sea. Neither did any of the other Nazarenes.

  Aristotle died in prison the day following the scourgi
ng. It was reported that two of the women arrested also died before they could be tried. One of the women was the wife of Aristotle. Some were scourged and released. No one knew how many more of them died.

  Thereafter the services of the followers of Jesus were held in various homes of the believers, sometimes a hundred or more locked away in a basement out of sight and sound of the persecutor. At times they gathered in the evenings on a rooftop of some friend of the People of the Way. A few of the Pharisees and even some of the Romans gave refuge to them. It didn’t take the Temple rulers or the Romans long to see that these poor, peaceful people were no threat to anyone. The Laws of the Sanhedrin did not change, but the general attitude of public opinion began to turn more toward tolerance.

  The high priest would have liked to ignore them and proceed with business as usual. Their injuries and deaths in the Roman prison had begun to become somewhat of an embarrassment.

  The Feast of Weeks, the holy day Sharvoth, was upon Saul before he realized it. Coming to his room one afternoon, he saw Baanah ben David in the open door of the synagogue with sheaves of wheat in his hands.

  “Shalom, Master.”

  “And peace be with you, Brother Saul,” said Baanah. But Baanah’s face showed pain, not peace.

  “What’s troubling you?” asked Saul.

  “The high priest wants to see you,” said Baanah. “It seems that one follower of the Nazarene died from scourging, and another almost died from a concussion and infection of a cut on his throat . . . from a sword,” he stammered.

  “I will go to the high priest,” Saul said, ignoring the inference. He stepped past Baanah through the doorway.

  Saul looked thinner. He had missed many meals and many nights’ sleep. He was pale, and his eyes lay in deep, dark holes. His face and head with two weeks’ growth of hair reminded Baanah of the head of one of the wild weeds that grew in the wilderness; before him was a prickly burr with two black eyes.