It’s been half an hour since Cleomus stalked off. I notice him heading back towards my cell. Our prayers are being answered. Surely Cleomus is the most prayed for soldier in all of Rome.

He treated Christians with contempt and hatred. He thought we were crazy, or somehow under a spell. He made life especially miserable for the new ones. They were a convenient outlet for all his pent-up wrath, his pain and anger, and his curious loyalty to Caesar.

About two months ago, a particularly zealous Christian named Demetrius was brought here. Like all new prisoners, he was put into a large common cell. These "pots" as they are called, are dangerous places, where new prisoners quickly learn which other prisoners are trouble, how to avoid the attention of the guards, and what the rules of the house are. You stay in this pot as long as some unknown authority decrees, probably until you realize you are nothing to the jailers and they can do to you whatever they want. The system saves the Romans a lot of time and effort.

I think it was Peter or one of the other apostles who said: "Some new Christians are so zealous, they need to be locked up for six months." It wouldn’t have made any difference with Demetrius. He was that zealous.

Demetrius was continually telling other prisoners, "Jesus loves you." Or, "Jesus is alive and would like to enter into a living relationship with you." Or, "Come on, face it. You’ve made a mess of your life. Jesus can wash and forgive you, and give you a new life that never ends." Sometimes he even said these things to the guards.

Naturally there were responses such as, "Sure, follow your crazy Jewish Rabbi and windup here like you! That’s not much of a life." Sometimes the responses were harsher, and always vulgar.

Cleomus was in an especially foul mood when Demetrius was here only two days. Demetrius was also troubled, but being a single minded new Christian, he thought he would overcome his own problems by being more aggressive. He told Cleomus, "God commands you to repent and change your ways. You must turn from your stinking ways to His ways."

Cleomus roared, "Silence you filthy scum!"

From years of sharp tongued response, Demetrius shot back with, "Look you Roman dirt, you..." And then he realized what he had done.

He was in the process of apologizing. He was genuinely sorry for railing like that and said, "I’m sorry Cleomus. I didn’t really mean that. I’m just..."

Cleomus tore open the door to the common cell, and in spite of his age and wine-enlarged stomach, walked quickly and determinedly towards him. As Demetrius tried to apologize, Cleomus drew his sword and with one powerful swing Cut through his neck. His sword was dull from several years of non-combat, but there was enough force to nearly sever Demetrius’s entire head. His head flopped and hung from his shoulder as Demetrius’s body crumpled to the floor.

Stunned silence hung in the air. Cleomus bent down, wiped his sword on Demetrius’ clothes, stood, and without a word walked out. A few minutes later another guard and some slaves came into the cell and carried the body out.

The grieving process was different in prison. We were all facing death or denial, so after a very short time of mourning, we, who were followers of the Way, all concluded that Demetrius died in a most magnificent way. He was following the command of Jesus, though not as gently as we might have liked. He sinned in his sharp response, but he died in the very act of asking forgiveness from the one with whom he was sharing Jesus.

This killing resulted in increased prayer for Cleomus. We prayed for him all the time. I thought that at the judgment day, Cleomus would stand before the Lord Jesus and Demetrius would be at Jesus’ side. That vision moved me to pray more for Cleomus than I had for any other non-believer.

Priorities are obvious in a prison like this. Jesus’ words to pray for your enemies became clear. We used to ask, "Who is my enemy?" There isn’t any question about that here. We are under command to do good to Cleomus, to pray for Cleomus, to forgive Cleomus.

Now, as Cleomus returns after his tirade against Christians that ended with slamming me back on my mat, I am reminded of old Ziph. I smile as he enters my cell.

Cleomus gruffly demands, "Lemme see your ears Malchus."

I offer my head as he scrutinizes one ear, then the other. "There aren’t even any scars. What do you take me for, Malchus? Do you think I’d really believe that?"

"When Jesus touched me, Cleomus, he healed me. He put it back as good as it was before."

I got the impression Cleomus wanted to believe me. "How do you know it was cut off?" he asks. "Maybe it was just bruised and all he did was touch you. You know, there really isn’t any way to be sure about it."

"1 ‘II tell you why I’m so sure," I say. "When I was just eighteen I wanted to marry Bethany. That was awfully young. I’d finished my apprenticeship, but my father wasn’t ready to bless the marriage until I was more settled in work. And work to Father didn’t mean being a cobbler. He thought I should be a man of status and rank."

"That’s when I became a bond-slave to Calaphas,1’ I continue. "He was the son-in-law of the most powerful Jew in Judea, a man named Annas. Anyway, Caiaphas needed a servant to do whatever he told him. Not the sort of servant who would clean up his house, but a person he could send to Rome, or Caesarea, and know that the servant would be loyal to him."

"We have a custom, actually a law, about becoming bond-slaves. It was originally for real slaves, who were offered their freedom and chose to stay with the old master because of a wife, family, or for whatever reason. It was in a formal public ceremony that I became the servant of Caiaphas for the rest of my life. I pledged to put his interests above mine; to obey him in everything unless it violated my conscience, and even then, I vowed to tell him why I would not do it."

"That’s stupid," Cleomus says. "but your ear. What about your ear. How do you know your ear was cut off?"

"When I became a bond-slave to Caiaphas, there was a ceremony. My father and mother and some other witnesses were therein front of his house. They asked me questions about serving Caiaphas, and heard my vows. Then Caiaphas took an awl and went to the front door of his house and punched a hole in my ear lobe, driving the awl through my ear, into the door frame. It hurt, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Then they put a gold ring in my ear as a mark that I was a bond-slave."

Cleomus breaks in, "There’s no hole or ring in your ear."

"That’s just it Cleomus, when Jesus touched my ear and put it back on, the ring was gone."

"Huh," Cleomus grunts, "I’ll think about it" He slowly walked away, his eyes fixed on the floor.

In these quiet times of waiting for whatever, I try to pray, try to remember the scriptures I know, try to do anything, yet my mind is like a troop of marching soldiers on a road to examine the times and eras of my life.

Bethany filled my mind and heart from the day I saw her, at age sixteen. I counted the days between uncle Asaph’s visits to Jerusalem, and I prayed hard that he would bring his family. When they came, I was ecstatic, but my ecstasy would be short lived when I saw her. Why did my tongue feel so thick? Why did the sores on my face flare up just before they came? Why was I suddenly so clumsy? I wanted so much to impress her, but when she came, I dropped things, stumbled and told her things that were so wonderful while in my mind but sounded so stupid when they came Out of my mouth.

Bethany saw me differently. She seemed not to notice my bumbling, or else she was so concerned with the way I saw her, that my shortcomings didn’t count. It soon became clear that she was also interested in me.

In my seventeenth year I spent the family times with her. My brothers and cousins would press me to join in the games and adventures, but I said no.

When they realized where my attentions were directed, they teased me. They chanted in childish sing-song, "Malchus loves Bethany." I wanted to be angry, but it was the truth, so I just laughed. Bethany heard them and it seemed to please her. Her face would flush with a crimson coloring she couldn’t hide. I loved it.

We would sit together at meals, and evening gatherings. I wanted desperately to hold her, but of course I didn’t. Being that close to her, I became aware of her deep love for God. When she told me her highest goal in life was to serve God by being a good wife and mother, I silently prayed, "Oh Lord God, let me be him."

After the Feast of Tabernacles that year, I went to Father and told him of my desire for Bethany. He said that Asaph had talked to him also, and that he would bless the marriage if I had gainful employment. Then he related that Caiaphas would be willing to put me to work, but only if I had my ear punched and became his bond-servant.

It all seemed so matter of fact to Father, but I was so happy with the prospects that I made up for any lack of emotion from him. I knew what being a bond-slave meant, and would have resisted it under other circumstances. But Bethany was worth it We proceeded with the plans Father and Asaph had worked out.

I turned eighteen that winter. When Asaph brought his family for Passover, Bethany and I were betrothed, or promised to one another. The wedding was not to take place until I had been placed in service to Caiaphas, but the way the families began planning and carrying on, you’d think it was going to happen the next week.

Caiaphas scheduled my ear-piercing for the week after Pentecost, and it seemed good to all that the wedding would take place in Jerusalem just before Tabernacles. That way the families would all be together and I would not have to go to Galilee to take her.

I thought Bethany’s family had rented a house near ours for the wedding, but at the giving of gifts following the ceremony the house was given to us as a wedding gift. I went to her father’s house to get her, and when we were wed, I took her back to the same house. Our house.

The procession to her house was lengthy. All of her maidens were family and all were happy and excited. Bethany was radiant. I looked into her beautiful eyes and told her, "’Bethany, you are the most magnificent thing that God has ever created." The attendants laughed at such a public display, but they were pleased. I took her to my father’s house where the canopy had been placed and tables set with abundance of food and gifts.

Asaph always appeared dignified with his silver hair and priestly dress, but he glowed that day like an angel of God. He began the ceremony by questioning me. Did I fear God? Did I love his daughter? Would I care for her and respect her? Would I be faithful to her, and give her the honor she was due?

Asaph obviously cared greatly for Bethany and wanted me to understand the treasure I was receiving and to pledge my loyalty in a way that satisfied him. He then put her hand in mine and said, "I give my daughter to you in the fear of God. You are now responsible for her. Cherish her, Malchus, and raise a godly family. May she be to you as Rachel and Leah, a fruitful vine in your house, and may your sons be like olive plants around your table." It was not proper, but the guests began to cheer.

Father then spoke to us about tradition, and what was right. His words did not carry the life that Asaph’s did. The people still cheered, but in a more subdued way.

When we were under the canopy, it was Annas himself that honored us by pronouncing the blessing. During the dancing and celebrating that followed, many said they had never seen such a wedding ceremony. We were truly blessed. I felt that God was favoring our marriage already.

* * *

When we were finally alone, Bethany said, "It was a wonderful ceremony my lord. I am very pleased to be your wife."

I was startled to hear her call me, "my lord." I liked it in a way, but it was very unnerving. "Bethany," I said, "you’ve called me Malchus for years. Why change that now?"

"But this is all so different now my husband. We were children together, brother and sister almost. Now it is different. You are like Abraham to me, my husband. As Sarah called him lord, so I look to you as my lord, my provider,"

"And as your friend," I interrupted. "We have been friends for a long time Bethany. I am beside myself with the expectations of making love, and I don’t know if we are to be Malchus and Bethany, or husband and wife, or lord and servant, or what."

Bethany was all that any man could hope for. She was loyal, loving, and tender. Although we had our times of disagreements, she was quick to apologize if she felt she was wrong. For about five years we experienced happiness and fulfillment that brought balance to my life as the servant of Caiaphas.

With Caiaphas I was like a different person.

At first he wanted me to just be with him. He would ask me to do little stupid things. At times I thought I was in for a horribly boring life running little errands for Caiaphas. I was ambitious. I wanted to do. I wanted to be. And, since it was my place in life to serve this man, I wanted to make him the greatest man on the earth. I wanted to prove the sincerity of my vows.

After a few months he asked me to take care of a rather touchy situation. There was a widow, well off financially, whose husband had dedicated their home to God. It was declared "Corban." Now it seemed the widow was staying in the house, and the matter needed to be settled.

I went to her home. "Shalom eliechim."

"Eliechim shalom," she responded.

"I am Malchus, the servant of Caiaphas the High Priest."

"Oh, please come in," she said. "It is an honor to have the servant of the High Priest visit me. My husband and Caiaphas had some associations, but I have never met him."

Hoping to make this as easy as possible, I said, "He is the representative of God to us." I really believed Caiaphas was God’s representative, but I was saying this to make my assignment easier. She seemed very nice, and I was a little hesitant about my task.

"May I get you some wine, a raisin cake perhaps?" she offered.

I wondered if she was being hospitable or was she genuinely pleased to have a visitor? I settled into a sturdy chair with a cushion Some chairs are comfortable and you just accept the fact. This chair was so comfortable I was conscious of the comfort immediately. She stood by the chair’s twin.

"No thank you," I responded. "I would like to get the business at hand completed."

"What is the ‘business at hand?"’ she queried.

I began, "It is about your husbands’ declaration of this property as ‘Corban’ or dedicated to God." She was visibly shocked.

"Why, I knew nothing of this. Are you certain he did that? Did he not dedicate it to the Lord after I passed on, but not before? Surely he made some provision for me in this."

"No, I’m very sorry. He did not make any provisions about waiting. This property is ‘Corban’ now," I replied.

To my surprise and great relief, this woman, who had just received such shocking news, began to try to please me and Caiaphas as well as honor the memory of her husband. He had obviously taken good care of her, and she assumed that all people were honest and good like him.

"Must I move out?" she asked. "I had hoped to live Out my days in this house. It is comfortable and well situated for me. I really prefer not to move."

"No, of course you may stay," I answered. "Caiaphas realized that you may wish to stay. He has instructed that if you like, you may purchase the house back at a price which is less than the market value since there would not be all the fees. Or, he suggested you could stay here as a renter for a suitable period of time."

"You are most kind," she said. I felt she really meant it. "How much would it cost to purchase the house again?"

"Twenty pieces of silver," I answered. She did not hesitate.

"Please wait here. I will be right back."

She was gone for about half an hour. I don’t know if she went out the back door to another location, or more likely dug up her savings from a place under the floor in her home. At last she returned with twenty pieces of silver. "Here you are, Malchus," she smiled. "Now I can finish my days here in peace. My husband left enough to make this possible. He was so good to me."

I was afraid she was going to go into a long discourse on her dead husband, and I wanted to leave as soon as possible. Cutting her short with some nice comments about both her and her husband, I left as quickly and as politely as I could.

When I was out of her sight, I began to run. I ran and jumped and whooped my way to Caiaphas. He was in his room at the Temple, alone. I rushed in and exclaimed, "Here. Here it is! The money, the money!"

With a surprised look, Caiaphas took the bag and without a word counted the twenty pieces of silver twice. He looked at me, looked at the silver and said, "Good job, Malchus. Good work. I’m impressed. I expected at least a couple days’ delay. Here. This is a bonus, a gift." He tossed three of the silver pieces to me. "Go spend it, and don’t come back here for two or three days. No, don’t come back until after Shabat."

When I told Bethany, she shrieked with delight, danced around the house clapping her hands over her head. We went to a favorite khan out in the wilderness near the Dead Sea. There were mineral baths, massage servants, and excellent food and accommodations for a price. We had a delicious time.

Many other assignments followed. Most all of them were more difficult to complete. I did a good job for Caiaphas, and advanced in responsibility and authority far beyond my years.

I enjoyed serving him. Caiaphas was within the law, or often his word was the law, so I served him well. Very seldom did I question my assignment, and when I did, Caiaphas usually took the time to explain why he was right. I never hesitated to do his work. If he was wrong, God would have to deal with him

Caiaphas soon noticed and rewarded the intensity and zealousness with which I served him. At times he would encourage me to relax or take it easy, yet I knew he was pleased and liked my work.

My life was satisfying. I had a good wife and home. I had a job serving the representative of God. I was marked as the servant of the High Priest.

One day Caiaphas said, "Malchus, you are zealous for zealousness’ sake."

"I am zealous for you great Caiaphas and your rightful place, for your divine assignment with the people of God," I responded.

"Maybe so, but I’m glad it’s my ring in your ear. I wouldn’t want you serving my enemies."

With a laugh I responded, "I will serve you well Caiaphas."

"You will serve me with zeal, Malchus," he corrected. "Sometimes it will be well, but sometimes your zealousness can be a real pain. However, I would rather have a couple of you wild stallions needing to be corralled now and then than a hundred mealy-mouthed opportunists. You’re all right, Malchus."

"I will do anything for him," I vowed to myself that day.

I sat in on many meetings of the Sanhedrin, the ruling council of the elders of Israel. I couldn’t sit in the circle of rulers, but just behind Caiaphas where he could summon me without interrupting the proceedings. It was exciting. My father sat just behind Annas, and many times we sat together.

The proceedings varied between laborious, terribly boring and technical, all the way to heated intensity, like a pot of food boiling over the fire. I loved the fiery sessions, and tolerated the others. The hottest issue for the Sanhedrin was the zealots.

Zealots are radicals who believe God ordained Israel for Jews, and Romans must be driven out no matter the cost. They inspired a patriotism in the Pharisees and a fear in the Sadducees. Every time a band of zealots stirred up the wrath of Rome, the Sanhedrin spent much time in emergency sessions.

A report had reached Caiaphas about a band of zealots in Joppa who were stirring up discontent and recruiting young men for their cause. He dispatched me to Joppa to investigate and bring a report. As was often the case, he wanted me to go undercover, this time posing as a buyer of property.

I decided to mix a holiday with business and take Bethany along. Our first born son, Jehoiada, was two years old by then, and my mother was elated at the chance to "spoil him." She sent us off with the admonition, "You two make some more babies for me."

Joppa is a beautiful town perched on rocky cliffs overlooking the Mediterranean Sea about a days’ journey from Jerusalem. The harbor abounds with rocks, but is still used as the seaport for Jerusalem, just as it was when Hiram floated the timber there for the building of Solomon’s Temple.

We fell in love with the people, the refreshing sea breezes and the beautiful rugged coast We found housing with a widow named Dorcas who treated us like family. She and Bethany quickly became friends, and it seemed as if they had known each other for years. Whenever I returned from investigating properties or just poking around, they would be chattering like magpies. We attended the local synagogue with her and Bethany helped her with her sewing and visiting the poor.

Although buying property was only a pretense, we actually purchased a parcel of land about a ten minute walk south of town. It was perched on a finger of land with the ocean on three sides. We planned to build a vacation home there in spite of its impracticality for children. We were captured by the beauty and the dream of getting away like this. Besides, the price was only two pieces of silver.

My investigation confirmed to Caiaphas the reports about the zealots. Historically Joppa had been a place of turmoil and intrigue and it still festered. A large number of people hated the Romans with an intensity beyond that in Jerusalem. Fanaticism was easily stirred up, and a young man named Barabbas was a special trouble maker. At a share-your-meal dinner after the synagogue service, he even tried to recruit me. I feigned enough interest to keep him going and he pushed and manipulated with every zealot argument and condemnation of spineless Jews who made peace with the anti-God system. He appeared hard and mean and was looking for trouble with or without a cause. I was certain he wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who opposed him. I identified him to Caiaphas as a troublemaker who needed to be watched.

* * *