Great Lion of God (67 page)

Not looking at the people Saul jumped from the chariot and went inside the synagogue. It was a large rough building of gray stone, almost circular, and it was smoky from the fire on the altar where several dismayed and bearded priests stood aghast and helpless. The air in the synagogue was hot both from the fire and the thickly crowded men, who stood shoulder to shoulder and elbow to elbow. Here it was quieter, for only one man spoke and he stood before the altar and his fine sonorous voice could be clearly heard in its pure Greek intonations, its wonderful inflections and musical cadences.

Saul halted and looked at the man he now so malignantly hated, the handsome young man who looked like a Greek indeed, though he was a Jew. He wore his prayer shawl. His head was covered with the hat of the Tribe of Dan. But his garments were of coarse gray linen and his cloak was of brown wool and his feet were bare except for plain leather sandals. But nothing could remove from him his aura of authority, sweetness and power, nor dim the sparkle of his open eyes nor diminish his native elegance and patrician surety.

The light was uncertain and dull, for the windows were high and narrow, and the floor floated in semi-shadow. Only the crimson light on the altar illuminated the interior, and it flickered on listening faces and on the shut expressions of the priests. They could not silence him. It was Jewish law that any man could enter a synagogue if moved to speak and there be heard in courtesy.

Saul felt that his heart would burst with his mighty rage at this man, this heretic, this blasphemer, this betrayer of his people, this man who threatened the house of Shebua ben Abraham, He moved closer, despite grumbling, to hear .what Stephen was saying and the hand that never knew the lust of a sword before knew it now.

“It has been said by the Messias,” Stephen was saying, “that though the Temple be destroyed, and even the holy city, the truth will not pass away, but will endure forever through the ages and even to the end of the world.”

Saul halted, shaken to the soul, for to a Jew the very thought that the Temple might not endure, and that the holy city of Jerusalem might be known no more, was a mortal blasphemy in itself, for did not God dwell on Sion and in His Temple and in His city, and was it not said that He would never desert them? Numbed, he could not believe that this fellow could speak so and not be thrown to the stones and stamped upon. But the men were listening.

“For the faith is more than stones, more, aye, than the gold that lies in the vaults of the Temple. It is more than a city. What is mortal, what is made with human hands, dies in its time as do all things, but truth is eternal. Moses was given the dimensions of the first Temple, and the elaborations thereof, to the last detail, for it is a good thing that men build the House of the Lord, not only with the best they can bring, but with the treasures they have earned and gathered in their lives, and the best of their own houses. For, who will deny the Lord and keep from Him which is justly His own and which He has only lent to men? All that a man is, in wealth and in blood and in heart and in soul, is a small sacrifice and even a mean one, and it is only the loving kindness of God which prevents Him from spurning that sacrifice. But He accepts what we bring, as a father accepts the pretty little stones and dying worthless flowers which his children bring to him, and with tenderness and love. It is not the valuable which is truly the valuable, but only that given with humility and faith, however valueless, if it is all a man has to offer his God. Did not the Messias say that a widow’s mite—which was all she possessed—was of greater worth than the gold of a rich man?”

The listeners murmured and moved restlessly. So, thought Saul, this wretch deprecates sacrifice, insults Moses, and scorns the gold which lies in the Temple vaults, which assures our precarious security and supports our faith.

“To teach us these things, that the works of men will not endure, nor the cities he builds, nor his pride nor his science and his art and his strength and his power and his glory, but only the things of the spirit, the Messias chose to be born in a stable, of a poor Maiden of the House of David, and to live obscurely and to learn the trade of a carpenter and to labor at His trade. Is not a man’s soul more than his habitation, the piety of his thoughts more than silken raiment, his eternal destiny more than his treasures? His soul will survive though the earth itself be forgotten and lost in her orbit and changed into dust. This world is not our abiding place, no, not the world we see with our eyes. It has no verity and value in itself, despite its Rome and its Jerusalem and Damascus and Alexandria and Athens, its buildings and temples and thoroughfares, its cities of the sea. Our world is but a charnal house, the cemetery of countless civilizations which waxed and waned and died and left but a heap of stones, forgotten of name, forgotten of heritage and all their pride. And so it shall be in the ages to come. Man boasts to the wind and the wind carries away his voice and it is as if he had never spoken!

“But that which is of the spirit never changes nor dies. It is immutable. Therefore, is not that man a fool who puts his faith in masonry, however sacrosanct it is declared, and in his powers as a mortal, and in his treasures of banks and mind and learning? His destiny is not with them, as the Messias has told us over and over. His destiny is in eternity; his flesh is that of a beast and no more. He lives his life as beasts live their lives, and who can mark the distinction, for man as an animal only is less than a beast, for he does not possess a beast’s loyalty and purity of being and simplicity, nor its singleness of purpose, nor even its value.

“Only that in man which dies not possesses verity, for it is given of God, blessed be His Name, and the sinful soul is redeemed from death and hell by its great Lover, its Savior, who died on the cross for the forgiveness of our sins, our absolution, our reconciliation with God, the Father, and our eternal life beyond these little, dark and broken shores we call our home.”

Stephen raised his long and aristocratic hands and his look kindled with love and passion and fervor on the listening men, and he said, “His peace I bring unto you, as He brought it to us, the Warrior of Israel, the Holy One of Israel, Who from the ages was promised to us who awaited Him, the Redeemer of His people, our Lord and our God!”

Saul could contain himself no longer. His whole body, his very flesh, appeared to him to gather to itself enormous strength and fury, and he advanced through the throng as if he walked alone and there was none in his path. He reached Stephen ben Tobias who looked at him with a sudden and flashing smile of recognition, and Stephen made as if to speak and he half lifted his hand, desirous of touching the other man. But Saul seized a burning brand on the altar, and he shook it in the face of the priests then struck the altar with it in one violent movement. Sparks flew. The priests recoiled. The crowd craned and murmured, knowing this intruder.

Saul raised his roaring voice and he shouted to the priests, “Do you dare stand there and not protest the words of this blasphemer who has told you that our Temple will be destroyed and our holy city? Who would destroy them? This fellow and his followers, these so-called Nazarenes, these cultists, these heretics! It is not enough that they have brought contention and bitterness and hatred between brethren in this sacred city and in our holy land. No! They have brought fear to us, the hard attention of the Roman. They have divided us, confused us, caused us to commit the sin of blasphemy and doubt, to look with derision on all that we hold holy, to flout the prophets, to weaken our resolution, to dissipate our strength through controversy and quarreling. They have brought us far from our God with lying preachments. They have set house against house, until there is not an hour but what anger erupts and men strive with each other. They have imitated through Satan miracles and prodigies, for the confusion of simple minds and the desecration of all that is holy.

“And, what are they?” cried Saul, turning from the priests now and facing the people, who were murmuring loudly and pushing against each other. “Base creatures, degraded creatures, superstitious and ignorant creatures, who question the Law and the Book!”

He paused and Stephen’s voice rang out clear and firm. “This is not true, Saul of Tarshish, and you speak falsehood whether you know it or not! We do not destroy the Law nor seek to change it, but to proclaim its fulfillment in the Person of the Redeemer of Israel, the Messias of God. He has made a new Covenant with us—”

Saul struck him fiercely on the cheek, and when Stephen involuntarily stepped back a pace Saul advanced on him and struck him again. The synagogue was immediately filled with shouting and imprecations and the altar fire caught wild and glittering eyes.

Saul looked at them. His breast rose and fell with his uncontrolled emotions and his despair and hatred. “Who will testify now against this fellow, this traitor, this apostate Jew, this Hellenist imbued with the paganism of the Greek and all their heathen philosophies? Who will go with me to the house of the High Priest, where the Little Sanhedrin is now called, and witness against this man, our enemy, the enemy of God, Himself, blessed be His Name?”

His eyes were blue lightnings; froth appeared at the corners of his mouth. He visibly shook with his wrath. “Men of Israel!” he cried. “Do you wish the anger of God to descend on us again, that we go whoring after strange cults and blasphemous lies and the idolatry of a miserable Nazarene? What good can come out of Nazareth? Woe unto you, men of Israel, men of the holy city, that you have listened to this heretic! Should the very stones you stand on rise and smite you to your death, it would be little enough punishment. For, in this place, dedicated to God and His worship, you have permitted a rascal, a thief of your souls, to speak to you without protest. Woe unto you!”

It seemed to his now affrighted listeners that he was as large as a statue, filled at the core with fire, that he possessed strange attributes, and was a prophet, for he stood in the light of the altar like a red-haired Moses prepared to destroy the Tablets of the Law because of their sins. His countenance was terrible. His eyes, they thought, were frightful in their power and intensity, as they roamed their faces.

Then a man shouted, “We have heard him speak blasphemous words against Moses and against God! And against this holy place and the Law! For we have heard him say that Yeshua of Nazareth will destroy this place and shall change the customs which Moses delivered us!” (Acts 6:13-14)

The man turned to those near him and exclaimed, “Who will stand I with Saul of Tarshish and witness against this Stephen ben Tobias, that he may be punished for his crimes against us, and against God?”

Hands flung themselves into the air and a great shout rose, and I Saul looked upon the congregation, then looked with a malignant smile at Stephen ben Tobias who had folded his hands under his prayer shawl and whose lips were moving in silence.

“Seize him, then, men of Israel, the faithful of God!” said Saul, I “and we will take him to the house of the High Priest, Caiphas, and before the Little Sanhedrin, for a judgment.”

The crowd erupted into the street, tossing those who awaited outside as a sea tosses sticks, and they were led by Saul ben Hillel who I was like a raging storm. The centurion looked upon him and said I in a low voice to his men, “Then is not of our affair. Nevertheless, I let us follow where they go.”

Still, he glanced with some compassion on the torn and bleeding Stephen ben Tobias, the patrician, who was being half carried and half dragged, away from the synagogue, followed by the screaming land cursing mob. The centurion thought of the mobs of Rome of whom even Caesar Tiberias lived in fear, and who now really ruled the city and distorted the voice of law and reason with their howls land their demands, and who devoured the flesh of the industrious and the manly to satisfy their base appetites and who shrieked for bread and circuses, for beans and for housing and benefits they had not earned, and dared to call themselves Romans! The centurion shook his head, and with a melancholy countenance he motioned to his men, and stepped into his chariot and followed Saul and Stephen and the wrestling and sweating mob. He obeyed his orders, given to him by Pontius Pilate.

The High Priest awaited the arrival of Saul and his prisoner, and so did the few members of the Little Sanhedrin, hastily summoned. Caiphas said, “This will surely be the end of Stephen ben Tobias, for I know this Saul of Tarshish, and he is a man of vengeance and will of a certainty deliver us of the blasphemers.”

“I know the house of Tobias,” said one judge, his eyes resolutely on the marble floor of the hall and his expression inscrutable. “Let us hope that house does not exert its own vengeance.”

“I have heard that they have secretly denounced their son, Stephen,” said another judge. The others sighed with relief. The judge said, “They would not lift a hand either to help or avenge him, for he impudently exhorts them to give their riches to the poor that they might have salvation!”

The others laughed faintly. One said, “If only there were an end to this foolish cult!”

They heard a discordant sound of huge tumult approaching the palace and the High Priest said with distaste, “The mob, once more. How I detest them!” He sat on his gilded chair and brooded and waited, and he thought of Stephen ben Tobias in the hands of that savage rabble and shuddered.

The captain of Caiphas’ guard rushed into the hall, his sword drawn, and crying, “Lord, there is a huge mob outside the gates, clamoring to be received by you, and with them is one Saul of Tarshish, who demands admittance with his prisoner, Stephen ben Tobias! And with them also is a Roman officer and some legionnaires!”

Caiphas said, “Admit Saul of Tarshish and his prisoner, and the witnesses against the prisoner, but none else, no, not even the Romans, for this must be a seemly trial and not a heathen circus.”

“Unlike the trial of Yeshua ben Joseph,” added a judge, and Caiphas turned to him sharply but the judge’s face was bland. Nevertheless, Caiphas fumed, thinking of Rabban Gamaliel and Joseph of Arimathaea and the defected priests of the Temple. A few moments later there was a scuffling and a howling in the portico and muffled shrieks, and then Saul hurled himself rather than ran into the hall, and he was like a tempest crowned with fire, and behind him rushed a dozen men beating one in their midst and kicking and reviling him. Their garments blew with their vehemence and their feet slapped the marble like brutish applause.