NOT A SPARROW FALLETH.
Something more than two years after the events narrated in the preceding
chapter, a little group of men might have been seen standing in the
portico of a building known as the Synagogue of the Nazarenes. They
were conversing in low tones, but their excited gestures and gloomy
faces betrayed the fact that the topic which they were discussing was
not a pleasant one.
"There is unquestioned and open partiality on the part of the apostles
toward them that be of Hebrew birth and descent," said one bitterly.
"Though we be circumcised and walk after the law in all diligence, the
fact that we are Greeks can be neither overlooked nor forgiven."
"I mind not what they think;" cried another sturdily, "a Greek is as
good as a Jew any day, and we be all servants of one Master, even
Christ; but it is not just that our widows and fatherless be neglected
in the daily distributions, for we have all given freely of our
substance into the common fund."
"I like not to boast, my Andronicus," said the third man almost in a
whisper, "but I cannot forbear the thought that had I retained in mine
own power what I aforetime laid down at the apostles' feet--freely and
in all humility of mind, these tales of neglect would not now be coming
to our ears."
None of the three had observed that a fourth man had joined himself to
the group, till the newcomer spoke. "The neglect of which thou dost
complain, my brothers," he said in a deep musical voice, "is not a
neglect born of contempt for us because we are Greeks. I know these men
through and through; they rest not day nor night, but labor incessantly,
and in all unselfishness and love for the church, yet is the burden too
heavy for them. Christ healed many that were sick and fed many that were
hungry. Yet there remain multitudes of them that are blind, of them
that are lepers, of them that hunger, who were also blind, leprous, and
hungry, when our Master walked the earth. They came not unto him, and
how could he succor them, being burdened with this humanity which doth
irk us all?"
"What thou hast said, my Stephen, is true," admitted Andronicus. "But
it is also true that among the Jewish widows there is no lack, while
Priscilla and her little ones remained two days without food. Had she
refrained from joining herself to us, she would have continued to
receive aid from the Temple treasury; the woman herself declared it, and
I could not gainsay her had I wished it. If there be not neglect born
of contempt, there is assuredly a lack of wisdom."
"What hath been done for Priscilla?"
"My wife ministered to her necessities, as well as to those of Julia and
Eunice."
"Hast thou spoken of this to Peter?" asked Stephen, looking troubled and
turning to one of the others.
"Nay, I have not spoken of it; there should be no need to speak, say I."
"Forget not the word of the Master, 'Judge not that ye be not judged,'
said Stephen, gravely. "We must look carefully within before we lightly
censure any man--least of all the chosen and anointed ones of our Lord."
Then after a thoughtful pause he added, "I will myself speak with John
concerning these things."
The man who had first spoken, and who was called Apelles, looked after
him as he walked away. "From him I can suffer reproof as from no other;"
he said, "he hath within him the very spirit of the ascended One."
"Like the ascended One, he hath also enemies in high places;" said
Andronicus, significantly, "the continued attempts made upon his life
bear witness to the fact."
"What dost thou mean? He was threatened, it is true, by certain of the
Sadducees because of his boldness in declaring the resurrection in their
very midst, but no man laid hands on him."
"The Herodians, and especially the Pharisee from Tarsus, are bitter
against him for some reason, which perhaps we understand not wholly.
Hast thou forgotten his rescue by Ben Hesed more than two years ago; and
also what happened thrice since--when by the barest chance he escaped
with his life?"
"True, he has been mercifully preserved amidst great dangers; but each
time there was a simple enough cause for the peril without attributing
it to an enemy," said Apelles, thoughtfully. "Once it was from robbers,
who would have slain him from the mere lust of murder, as is their wont.
Again, a heavy stone fell from the wall above as he spake to the people,
barely missing his head in its descent."
"Yes; I know all that thou wouldst say;" broke in the other, "but
listen! Yesterday a basket of fruit was sent him, bearing a scroll
inscribed thus: 'This fruit is for the saintly Stephen, from one who
believes that the apples of Paradise are none too fair for such as he.'"
"A pretty conceit assuredly!"
"A most lovely conceit! Had he eaten, as the sender supposed that he
would do, even now would the apples of Paradise be within his grasp."
"What meanest thou?"
"'I will not eat of this fair fruit,' said Stephen, 'instead I will bear
it to the aged Clement, who hath only of late joined himself to us,' but
while he waited for a convenient season for taking the gift, the fruit
stood without on the ledge of the window, and the birds came and pecked
it. Before they could fly away after their stolen meal the little
creatures dropped dead."
"Horror! the fruit was poisoned then?"
"Assuredly. Now thou seest that he hath an enemy."
"But who?"
"I have my suspicions, and have warned him. His answer was this, 'He is
with me alway even unto the end; until my appointed time there is
nothing that shall be able to hurt me; neither shall I fear what man can
do to me.'"
"Wonderful! I have confessed that Jesus is the Christ, but I fear me my
faith in him is but a poor thing compared with that of Stephen; had the
like happened to me I should have fled the city."
"'Twas what I urged upon him. Go away from Jerusalem, I said. There be
Jews in every city of Greece who would gladly hear thee of the Christ;
in the land of thy fathers shalt thou dwell in safety. But he shook his
head. 'The day is not far distant,' he made answer, 'when not alone to
the Jews shall this salvation be preached, but unto every people and
kindred and tongue beneath the heavens; for Christ came to save the
world, and therefore shall the world be saved; but it is not I who am
called to this work; my place is here.'"
While the two Greeks thus spoke one to another of Stephen, the young man
himself was passing rapidly through the streets towards his home, his
thoughts busied chiefly with what Andronicus had told him concerning the
daily ministrations. "The matter must be looked to," he said to
himself. "The twelve are not sufficient for the work, God be praised.
So mightily hath the spirit worked with and for us, that the day is not
far distant when the cross shall cease to be a symbol of shame and
hissing among men and shall everywhere be hailed the sacred token of
deliverance."
Communing thus within himself he lifted up his eyes and beheld the
square which lay before the palace of Pilate. "It was here," he
murmured, "that they brought him on the day of his death. It was here
that the people cried out 'Crucify him--Crucify him!' Ah, that awful
day--nay rather that day of days, decreed from the foundations of the
world!" Then he passed on into the square, being minded to look for a
moment on the very place where he knew the Man of Sorrows had stood so
patiently on that last day of his earthly life. As he approached the
mosaic of many-colored marbles which marked the place of the judgment
seat, a Roman chariot containing two men and drawn by a pair of powerful
black horses dashed into the square.
"Dost see that fellow yonder, Herod?" exclaimed the man who stood behind
the driver. "I mean the one with the white robe. 'Tis that beggarly
Greek, Stephen, who hath been setting the city on an uproar of late with
his driveling cant. I hate the whole blasphemous brood, but he is most
contemptible of all."
"I will engage to run him down, if thou sayest it," said the man who
held the reins, and across whose white tunic streamed a scarf of the
imperial purple.
"Be it so!" answered his companion with a malignant scowl. "'Twill be a
happy accident that rids the world of such an one."
"An accident of course," said the other with a brutal laugh. "Who would
dare question it?" And he brought the long lash with a whistling curl
about the glossy flanks of the horses; they leapt forward as one.
Something else also leapt forward. There was a cry, and the sound of
the iron hoofs was horribly dulled for an instant, then the chariot
thundered on, and swept into the avenue beyond the palace.
"By the gods, Alexander!" cried Herod. "Didst see the man who leapt
forward from behind? He dragged the beggar forth just in time; another
instant and he would have been crushed beneath our wheels."
"I saw, yes," answered the other, grinding his teeth. "The wretch bears
a charmed life."
"We will drive back to inquire of the accident," pursued Herod with a
sneering laugh. "Pollux there struck something softer than the
pavement. Hey! Pollux, my beauty? If it chanced to be the man's head
he will prate no more of dead malefactors--nor yet of live ones. How
now, fellow!" he shouted, reining in his struggling horses as they
approached the borders of the crowd which had instantly gathered at the
scene of the accident. "Was the man hurt seriously?"
"Not seriously, they say, your Highness," replied the man to whom he had
spoken, bowing low at sight of his royal questioner; "but the stranger
who rescued him hath beyond doubt suffered a mortal wound."
"The more fool he!" cried Herod contemptuously. As the horses again
sprang forward in obedience to the lash, he turned to his companion with
a wicked laugh. "'Twere a pretty pastime for our leisure to root out
these pestiferous fellows from the Holy City, and 'twould doubtless
cover a multitude of sins."
"May we count on thine assistance, my prince?" said Alexander eagerly.
"We who are against the Nazarenes grow fewer each day; already the
greater number of Pharisees either believe or regard them with
tolerance. These all declare openly that the dead carpenter of Galilee
is alive and is like to return any day to rule over Israel."
Herod's face darkened. "Let him return and attempt it!" he cried
angrily. "Behind me--is Rome."