Francine Rivers - The Scribe: Silas

John the Baptist began gathering crowds at the Jordan River, baptizing for the repentance of sins. A delegation of priests went out to question him. Upon their return, I overheard angry words in the hallowed corridors.

Hes a false prophet who comes out of the wilderness and lives off locusts and honey.

The man is mad!

The man wears a garment of camels hair and a leather belt!

He dared call us a brood of snakes.

Mad or not, he has the people listening to him. And he cried out against us, asking whod warned us against Gods coming wrath. We must do something about him!

Something was done, but not by the priests and religious leaders. John confronted King Herod for his adulterous relationship with Herodias, his brother Philips wife. Arrested, he was held in the palace dungeon. Herodias held a celebration for the kings birthday and used her daughter to entice Herod into making a foolish promise: if she would dance for his guests, he would give her whatever she wanted. The trap closed. The girl demanded John the Baptists head on a platter, and happily gave the gruesome gift to her scheming mother.

Those who thought John the Baptist was the Messiah grieved over his death and lost hope. Others said he pointed the way to Jesus, and went after the rabbi from Nazareth. Some, like me, waited cautiously to see what happened. All Jews lived in hope of the Messiahs coming. We longed to see the chains of Rome broken, and our oppressors driven from the land God had given our ancestors. We wanted our nation to be great again, as it had been during the time of King David and King Solomon, his son.

Some buried their hope in the shallow grave of a false messiah only to have it arise again when a new one appeared on the horizon. Hope can be a terrible taskmaster!

There were many rabbis in Judea, each with disciples yoked to his teachings. Some met in the corridors of the Temple, others in distant synagogues. Some traveled from town to town, gathering disciples as they went. It was not uncommon to see a group of young men following in their rabbis footsteps, hanging on his every word.

I thought none so wise as my father, who had told me to memorize the Law and live by it. I thought the Law would save me. I thought by following the commandments, and giving sacrifices, I could garner Gods favor. Hence, I was often in the Temple, bringing my tithes and offerings. The Law was my delight, and my bane. I prayed and fasted. I obeyed the commandments. And still I felt I existed on the edge of a great precipice. One slip, and I would fall into sin and be lost forever. I longed for assurance.

Or thought I did.

The stories about Jesus persisted and grew in magnitude.

Jesus gave sight to a blind man!

Jesus made a paralyzed man walk in Capernaum.

He cast out demons!

Some even claimed He raised a widows son from the dead.

The leading priests who had gone out to investigate John the Baptist met in chambers with the high priest, Caiaphas. My father, who had been a longtime friend of Annass family, told me later how incensed they became when it was asked if Jesus might be the Messiah.

The Messiah will be a son of David born in Bethlehem, not some lowly carpenter from Nazareth who eats with tax collectors and prostitutes!

Neither they, nor I, knew at the time that Jesus had in fact been born in Bethlehem of a virgin betrothed to Joseph. Both Mary and Joseph were of the tribe of Judah and descendants of the great King David. Further evidence came when Isaiahs prophesy was fulfilled, for Mary had conceived by the Holy Spirit. These facts became known to me later and merely affirmed all I had, by then, come to believe about Jesus. To my knowledge, nothing ever changed the minds of Annas, Caiaphas, and other priests who clutched so tightly to the power they imagined they held in the palms of their hands. Annas is dead now. And Caiaphas too is long gone.

What kept me away from Jesus for so long was the company He kept. I had never heard of any rabbi eating with sinners, let alone inviting them to be His friends. I pursued discipleship with a well-respected rabbi and was not received by him until I proved myself worthy to be his student. Jesus went out and chose His disciples from among common men. I had spent my life in caution, avoiding all those things the Torah declared unclean. I did not converse with women, and I never allowed a Gentile into my house. I knew my rabbi would not hear the name of Jesus. The Nazarene was a renegade. Jesus healed lepers. Jesus taught the women who traveled with Him. He gathered the poor, the downtrodden, the defiled on hillsides and fed them. He even preached to hated Samaritans!

Who was this man? And what good did He think He was doing by shattering the traditions accumulated over the centuries?

I longed to discuss all these matters with my father, but could not. He was too ill and died in the heat of summer. I sought out one of his most respected friends, a member of the high council, Nicodemus. Is the Nazarene a prophet or a dangerous revolutionary?

He speaks with great compassion and knows the Law.

I was astounded. You have met the man?

Once. Briefly. He changed the subject and would not be drawn back to it.

I wondered how many others among the leading priests and scribes had gone out to hear Jesus preach. Every time Jesus name was mentioned, I listened. I learned He spoke in many synagogues and taught about the Kingdom of God. The desire to leave my careful life grew in me. I wanted to see Jesus. I wanted to hear Him preach. I wanted to know if He was the one who could answer all my questions.

Most of all, like many others, I wanted to see Him perform a miracle. Perhaps then I would know whether to take this particular prophet seriously or not.

So I went to Galilee.