Fire and Sword (22 page)

“And you are one of its shining stars, Paul.”

“Proconsul, you honor me. And I am most honored among men to speak for my Lord Jesus Christ,” Paul answered. “I am forever in His debt. We are not unlike each other. Like you, I am an educated man, a citizen of Rome. Like you, I too was appointed by my God.”

Sergius laughed heartily at this as Paul continued speaking.

Theron, the spirit of sorcery that Pellecus had picked to guide Elymas, couldn’t abide Paul. Why had he come? Pellecus had never mentioned anything about Paul. Theron had been assigned to an ambitious man who called himself Bar-Jesus, or Elymas. “Guide the affairs of Cyprus through Elymas,” Pellecus had told him.

Up until now it had been easy to keep Sergius Paulus distracted. Always dabbling in other cultures and other religions, Sergius Paulus was an intelligent man on a meaningless journey for truth. Then he heard of Paul and wanted to hear of this new teaching. Theron thought about it for a moment and decided that his best use of Elymas would be to confound Sergius and dispel Paul as a trickster. Perhaps even have him flogged and thrown off the island.

Theron moved behind Elymas and laid a hand on him. Paul had finished speaking to Sergius about the life and work of Jesus, and how the Scriptures had foretold His coming. Then Elymas stood and began speaking to the group.

“Wonderful story, Paul,” he began. “But isn’t it true that Jesus was an enemy of the state? A rabble-rouser? Was He not crucified under Roman law?”

“Forgive me, Elymas, but He was crucified under His own law.”

“What?”

“Christ would never have been crucified had He not freely given His life—whether or not Rome was the instrument the Lord used. His life was given—not taken.”

“Spoken like a true devotee,” Elymas said. “And yet you yourself once sent the followers of this man to prison—even death. And now you expect a man like Sergius Paulus to believe the words of a murderer? A persecutor of the very people you now claim brotherhood with? You are a child of the Jews!”

Paul stood and stared into Elymas’ black eyes.

“And you are a child of the devil!” he said, pointing his finger. “You are an enemy of all that is right and pure.”

“I am attendant to the proconsul of Cyprus!”

“You are a fraud. You are filled with deceit and have not served this man well. And you have twisted the Lord’s words and tried to trick this man. When will you stop perverting the ways of the Lord?”

Elymas stepped back and shuddered. Theron fell back from him stunned. Paul prayed for a moment and then announced: “And now the hand of the Lord is against you.” Paul shielded his eyes from the brilliant sun. “Because you believed that you could see, the Lord will blind your eyes for a while—so that even the brightness of the sun will not be seen by you!”

Elymas backed away from them, and a strange black mist enveloped him. Sergius stood, knocking over a table. Paul merely watched as Elymas grabbed his eyes and began screaming, “Please. Not my eyes.” He then fell down, blinded. Theron shrieked and vanished, blinded also by the mist.

Paul ordered John Mark to help Elymas up. The blind man was sobbing, reaching out to someone to help him walk. John Mark escorted him to a servant, who took him by the arm.

“Don’t worry, Elymas,” the servant whispered. “We’ll take good care of you.”

Elymas shuddered as they walked away.

The proconsul turned to Paul after Elymas had left. He tried to pour himself some wine but was shaking so badly that he could not do it. Paul took the container and poured the proconsul’s wine for him. He thanked Paul and sat down.

“I have never seen such a sight,” he said. “Elymas was a man of great power. But if this is the power of your God, I wish to know Him.”

Paul smiled at the Roman and sat next to him.

“John Mark has left?” Paul asked. “We need him in Pisidian Antioch.”

Barnabas tried to console his friend. Ever since the event at the house of Sergius Paulus, John Mark had been telling him that he wanted to return to Jerusalem. Now, in Perga, John Mark had seen his chance and had taken off.

“He was not ready,” said Paul. “Well, let’s take our leave.”

“He missed his home,” Barnabas said. “He is young.”

“What better time to serve God than in one’s youth?” Paul asked.

He looked at the road leading out of Perga. He sighed and turned back to Barnabas. “Well, the best to him. On to Pisidia.”

Pisidian Antioch, so named for the Antiochus rulers, had been founded by a successor of Alexander. Located at a strategic point in southern Galatia, it was a well-garrisoned city and managed the road from Ephesus to Syria. It had become a favorite city for retired Roman officials and was a strange mixture of east and west.

When Paul and Barnabas arrived, they found the synagogue, which overlooked the city, and were invited to speak. Paul stood and thanked the synagogue rulers. He noted that some curious Gentiles were among those in attendance.

“Men of Israel and you Gentiles, thank you for inviting me to speak. I do indeed have a message for you…”

Barnabas looked around at the faces of the Jews as Paul recounted the nation’s history from Abraham until now. They seemed intent on his every word, and he spoke with boldness and authority.

“I told you that we bring good news—and so we do. This Jesus, who was crucified, has been raised up and has fulfilled that for which our fathers had been waiting. I want you to know that through Jesus forgiveness of sins has been proclaimed to you. A forgiveness that was impossible under the Law.”

One of the synagogue rulers shifted uncomfortably.

“So take care, my brothers. As the prophet said, ‘I shall do something among you that you would never believe even if someone told you.’”

As Paul and Barnabas left the synagogue, groups of men began gathering to discuss what he had said. Paul noticed and observed to Barnabas, “It is a difficult thing to give up one’s tradition.”

“Paul?”

Paul turned to see a man, accompanied by several others from the town.

“We were listening to you,” the man said. “We are not Jews—not yet anyway. But we believe what you were teaching.”

“Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be forgiven,” Paul said. “God’s love was shed for all men.”

One of the synagogue rulers stood in the doorway, watching Paul walk back to the town. The Gentile believers were following him, asking questions. The ruler, a man named Jereliah, motioned for others to join him. They went inside the synagogue to confer about the matter.

In the shadows, two figures watched the proceedings with great interest.

“Paul has brought a great light to Pisidia, Pellecus,” one said.

“Yes,” said Pellecus. “And he has also shed light on how we might be rid of him. His good news will be the death of him yet. The Jews. Always the Jews. Mark this, Strabor. Religion will always kill faith. And in Pisidian Antioch it shall kill Paul of Tarsus!”

“I wonder how you will be received today at synagogue,” Barnabas asked, as the men walked the hill the following week. “You certainly didn’t make any friends among the Jews.”

“Pray, Barnabas,” Paul said, as they rounded the hill. “Pray for our brothers. They are blinded by the same law that blinded me. But the Gentiles!”

“Seemed receptive,” Barnabas agreed.

“No look! The Gentiles!”

Barnabas looked at an enormous crowd that had gathered outside the synagogue. Gentiles from the town—the whole town it seemed—were awaiting Paul’s arrival and wanted to hear him speak some more. They watched Paul and Barnabas as they entered the synagogue, and the room quickly filled.

“Watch out,” Barnabas whispered.

Paul watched the synagogue rulers enter and take their places. Once more he spoke of Jesus Christ and the forgiveness He brings to all who would call on His name.

“Through Jesus, everyone who believes is justified as you could not be justified under the Law of Moses …” Paul continued.

After Paul finished speaking, he stood outside of the synagogue, conversing with the Gentile residents. The excitement in the air was palpable; Barnabas could only thank the Lord for such a reception among the people. Others took note of the response as well and were not as happy.

“This man is dangerous,” Simeon, a ruler, said.