The next morning dawned dark, the rays of the rising sun barely penetrating a mass of foreboding cloud to the east of the city. It looked as though rain was imminent and unavoidable. Loukas looked up at the sky gloomily, his mind still churning with the news of arrests in Ephesus. He was bitterly unhappy about sending his younger brother back into what was turning out to be a very dangerous situation for anyone associated with the Christian church, but there did not seem to be any viable alternative. It certainly would be no safer to stay with them, not now that the Romans were looking for them by name.
Just before Hermas and Markos headed off through the western gates Loukas pulled Hermas aside and entreated him to look after his younger brother. Hermas had assured him that he would.
“Our prayers go with you,” Loukas had said, his voice almost breaking, as he had given Markos a tight hug. Then he watched until Hermas and Markos had made it safely through the city gates and had disappeared into the distance.
Then, as the rain began to fall in earnest, it was their turn to leave. Probus escorted them across the town to the Philadelphian gate, and then through the gateway. He accompanied them down the hillside, as the road followed a stream that was getting noisier by the minute. At the base of the hill he stopped, embraced them both, and then Loukas and Artemas continued on together.
They spent a tense morning, very carefully trying to stay out of sight of other travellers on the road. If they saw someone in the distance they got off the road as quickly as possible and hid in the trees until they had passed. If they found themselves approaching a place where the road ahead was obscured in any way, they left the road completely and cut across country to meet up with the road further on.
It was well that they did this. Once, as they were clambering over a wooded hillside, they spotted a Roman patrol waiting on the road below them, just around what would have been a blind corner. They proceeded as quietly as they could and the patrol was none the wiser.
The rain eased after midday, so they stopped for a snack of fresh fruit and bread on some rocks overlooking a valley, protected from passers by on the road by a dense thicket. A wan sun made an appearance, but did nothing to dry their thoroughly wet clothing.
After a brief meal they continued on their way. A couple of hours later, finding themselves unable to see around a bend ahead, they left the road again, taking instead a goat-track that wound back and forth as it made its way up and over the large ridge of rocky hillside around which the road turned. They got to the top successfully and were able to look over at the road far below. After surveying the dizzying descent of the goat-track, Loukas decided to follow the ridge around for some distance and then to rejoin the road again much further along. They back-tracked a little, so that they would be below the level of the ridge and therefore out of sight of anyone travelling on the road, and then began to make their way along the side of the hill, Loukas leading the way. But the going was difficult. The goat-track had been bad enough, but now there was no path to follow. They were forced to jump from rock to rock, scattering loose stones in places, grabbing onto large boulders to prevent themselves from slipping further down the side of the rocky hill.
Suddenly, behind Loukas, there was a noise of rocks falling and a cry of pain.
Loukas turned and saw his friend spread-eagled on the ground clutching his right ankle.
“Artemas! What happened? Are you all right?”
Between clenched teeth, Artemas replied, “A rock broke under my foot and I slipped. Owww! I think my ankle is broken.”
Loukas quickly came over to Artemas and crouched down to examine his ankle. It was swelling fast, so it was difficult to judge whether the bone was broken or not.
“Can you put any weight on it?”
Artemas tried gently to put his foot on the ground. His sharp indrawn breath was answer enough for Loukas.
“Don’t worry, Artemas, we’ll get you to safety,” he said with a confidence he did not really feel. He looked around. They were near the top of the rocky ridge, some distance from the goat track that had brought them to the top. Even if he could assist his friend back to the goat-track, across the rocks and boulders that had caused him to come to grief in the first place, they would still have to make their way down to the road. And then they were nearly a day’s journey from Sardis, too far to travel even if they were able to walk at a normal pace. As for Philadelphia, he was not sure exactly how much further on it was. And, of course, the Romans were looking for him, and by name, too.
Then, to top it all off, it started raining again. Heavily.
Loukas sighed deeply. They still had two churches in which to read the scroll, and then he would be able to return to Ephesus and help his family and friends through the tribulation that was already breaking upon them. But that was looking more and more remote thanks to a fractured rock and a misplaced foot.
“Artemas,” said Loukas eventually, “we need to pray.”
Kneeling beside his friend, Loukas prayed. He prayed for wisdom and strength to be able to complete their task. He prayed for the healing of Artemas’ ankle. He prayed for their families and friends in Ephesus. He prayed for the churches they had already read the scroll in and for the churches yet to hear it. He even prayed for the Romans, that they would turn aside from their persecution of the church and come to know the truth about Iēsus.
The sun could not be seen through the menacing rain clouds above them but it would be setting soon, and Loukas still did not know what to do other than to continue praying. Then, unexpectedly, from below them he heard a long whistle. He was briefly fearful that the Romans had spotted them, but the sound had not come from the direction of the road. Warily looking down towards the valley below them he could see a shepherd, surrounded by ten or so sheep.
“Is someone hurt?” the man called up to them.
“Yes, my friend slipped and hurt his ankle,” called back Loukas.
“Wait there,” replied the shepherd. He spoke something Loukas could not hear to the sheep, then he came bounding up the steep hillside as effortlessly as if he were strolling along a Roman road. Within moments he was at their side, bending over Artemas and examining the ankle.
“Yes,” he said. “It is hurt, but the bone is not broken.”
“Actually,” said Artemas, “it is feeling a little better already.”
The shepherd turned to Loukas. “My name is Iani. I think together we can take your friend somewhere more comfortable than this place for the night.”
“Thank-you, Iani,” said Loukas.
Iani helped Artemas to stand, then with Loukas supporting the other shoulder, they slowly made their way down the steep hillside. Iani directed them downwards on a slant so that the slope was lessened, but even so it was extremely difficult. Loukas winced each time that Artemas cried out in pain as his ankle was jolted. Then suddenly – just as the rain began to dwindle away – they found themselves on a different goat track, one heading down into the valley below, and the going became easier although the narrowness of the track meant that Loukas and the shepherd were still clambering from rock to rock.
Eventually, the slope eased off as grass became more abundant than rock, and they came to the place where the shepherd’s sheep had patiently waited for their master, chewing grass and bleating quietly to one another.
“My hut is not far,” said Iani with a smile. Then calling his sheep each by name they continued on their way. There was space now for them to walk three abreast so Artemas was able to be properly supported. They were also surrounded by the comforting sounds of sheep following their master home to the fold.
It was dusk by the time they came to a little hut sitting next to a roughly constructed sheep pen. The sheep appeared to know what to do. They filed into the pen – Loukas could just hear the shepherd counting under his breath – and then he closed the gate.
“All accounted for. Now, let’s see to your friend,” he said kindly.
He opened the door of the hut then almost carried Artemas inside and laid him on a mat that lay on one side of the hut. Then in a twinkling he had a fire going with water boiling and delicious-smelling food cooking. It all seemed to happen so quickly Loukas was amazed.
“I caught some fish earlier,” replied Iani to Loukas’ unspoken question. “There’s a delightful stream not far from here. You can almost pull them out of the water with your bare hands.”
While Iani was cooking the food, Loukas draped their outer garments over strings that stretched the length of the hut in the hope that they would dry out enough for them to be wearable tomorrow. Iani also treated Artemas’ foot. By the light of a small oil lamp he examined it carefully before wrapping it in some strips of cloth.
“As I said, it isn’t broken, but you shouldn’t walk on it for a few days.”
Even in the gloom Iani must have seen Loukas’ face fall.
“So you are in a hurry, then?” he said. But before Loukas could reply, Iani continued: “The meal is ready. Let’s eat.”
Iani quickly served up the fish, accompanied by a stew in which Loukas could identify nothing but which smelled amazing. It had been quite a while since they had eaten anything so there was silence for some minutes while he, Artemas and the shepherd ate eagerly.
Finally, Iani broke the silence. “Tomorrow I will help you on your way. We should be able to get to the road easily enough. Then perhaps a wagon may pass and take you to your destination.”
Loukas was hesitant about travelling by road again, but looking at Artemas sitting there eating his fish and stew with his leg outstretched in front of him he realised that they did not have much choice.
“Thank-you, sir, for your help and hospitality,” he said. “We will do as you suggest.”
“Well, then,” replied Iani, “you must get some sleep. Especially you, my son,” he said, touching Artemas gently on his head.
Quickly the man cleaned away the remains of their meal, before rolling out a second mat for Loukas.
“You will be safe here tonight,” he said with a smile. “I will be outside – I have a cloak that will be quite warm enough for me, don’t you worry about that – and if you need anything you have but to call.”
With that, he left them alone. Artemas turned to look at Loukas and smiled despite the painful throb in his ankle. Loukas nodded, and lay himself back on the mat. As the glow of the fire slowly faded they fell into a deep and unexpectedly restful asleep.
When Loukas awoke it was to the sound of sheep bleating playfully. He turned to see that Artemas, too, was awake.
“How’s your foot?” asked Loukas.
Artemas sat up and gingerly put some weight on it. He grimaced. “Still sore.”
Iani must have heard them talking for he came into the hut, carrying a couple of bowls.
“Good morning,” he said cheerfully. “I have some fresh milk and dried fruits if you wish to break your fast.”
“Thank-you again,” said Loukas taking one of the bowls. Artemas added his own words of thanks.
“Sheep’s milk, of course,” said Iani, conversationally. “Also makes a good cheese.”
Breakfast was completed quickly and it was time to go. Iani and Loukas – after putting his travel bag with the precious scroll in it over his shoulder – helped Artemas to his feet, and then they made their way outside.
“This way.” The shepherd pointed with his free hand. “This path will soon take us to the road.”
“What about your sheep, sir?” asked Loukas.
“They will be fine in the pen. But I will need to hurry back so that they, too, can break their fast.”
It seemed that Artemas’ ankle was improving. They were able to travel quicker than they had done the day before. After about thirty minutes Loukas could see the paving stones of the Roman road through a grove of trees just ahead. The deep anxiety that he had felt the day before came back with a jolt. What if a Roman patrol came along? What if the Romans had started to spread his name and description to the public and some civic-minded citizen turned them in? Their mission would be over and the scroll would fall into the hands of the persecutors.
The shepherd must have glimpsed some of this on Loukas’ face. “Do not be afraid of men,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Fear God and give him glory, because the hour of his judgment has come. Worship him who made the heavens, the earth, the sea and the springs of water.”
Loukas looked at Iani in complete astonishment as the shepherd helped Artemas to sit with his back up against a tree not far from the road. Then, without saying another word, the man turned and disappeared into the trees. Loukas was left speechless, staring after him.
“Loukas, what is it?” asked Artemas, catching sight of Loukas’ expression.
Loukas coughed, swallowed, then replied softly, “That was no man.”
“What do you mean?”
“That must have been an angel, or, or, or... Iēsus himself!”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, he just quoted from the scroll, the words of the first of the three angels.” Loukas, with no thought of danger, took off his travel bag and brought out the scroll. He opened it, then scrolled through looking for the place. “Ah, here it is: ‘Then I saw another angel flying in midair, and he had the eternal gospel to proclaim to those who live on the earth – to every nation, tribe, language and people. He said in a loud voice, “Fear God and give him glory, because the hour of his judgment has come. Worship him who made the heavens, the earth, the sea and the springs of water.” ’[62]
“There is no way a man could know the contents of this scroll without first hearing it, and there is no way that shepherd could have heard it yet. So he must have been an angel – and he came upon us at our very moment of greatest need.”
“Then God is watching over our mission,” said Artemas simply. “Even with my sore foot!”
“Yes,” replied Loukas. He, too, sat down to wait for a wagon, all trace of anxiety gone. After all, had not an angel just told him not to fear man?
After some minutes of silence, Artemas spoke. “Loukas?”
“Yes?”
“You said there were three angels, didn’t you?”
The scroll was still open on Loukas’ lap.
“Yes, at this point in the scroll there are three. The first announces the judgment, with words about what we Christians are to do. The second announces the judgment over Rome, although he refers to her as Babylon, the traditional enemy of the Jewish nation. The third reinforces what we Christians are not to do: give in and worship the beast from the sea.”
He looked down at the scroll. “The third angel finishes by saying: ‘ “This calls for patient endurance on the part of the saints who obey God’s commandments and remain faithful to Iēsus.” Then I heard a voice from heaven say, “Write: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.” “Yes,” says the Spirit, “they will rest from their labour, for their deeds will follow them.” ’[63] We will remain faithful, even to death,” Loukas continued, with tears in his eyes. “And despite all appearances God will bless us.”
At that moment there was the sound of hooves on the cobbled flagstones of the road. Loukas looked up to see a farmer’s wagon being pulled by two straggly donkeys coming towards them. He quickly put the scroll away, and then stepped out into the pathway of the wagon.
Before too long they were on their way again, Artemas riding in the back of the wagon surrounded by local produce. Loukas was up front with the farmer, the scroll safely in his travel bag, tears still standing in his eyes, but a look of determination firmly fixed on his face.
“Dmitriy Nikolayevich? Nataliya Ivanovna?” It was a formally-dressed member of the Hermitage staff who stepped forward to meet Dima and Natasha just inside the security entrance in the Hermitage.
“Yes, that’s us,” replied Dima.
“Follow me, please,” replied the lady, and she started off down the centre of the entrance hall. Their footsteps echoed around them as they walked between the pillars and occasional statues. Apart from their guide and a couple of bored guards manning the metal detectors behind them there was nobody else in sight, since it was after the museum’s usual opening hours. But tonight was a special night and the guards had taken one look at their special passes and had waved them through to where their guide had been waiting.
They were soon walking up the magnificent steps of the Grand Staircase, the lights from the overhead chandeliers reflected in the ornate giltwork and highly polished mirrors that decorated the walls. Now that they were walking on the red carpet that lined the stairs their footsteps no longer could be heard echoing off the walls.
At the top of the steps they turned left, and began the rather lengthy walk through the labyrinthine halls and corridors to the special exhibition hall located in one of the furthest corners of the museum. Their guide led them quickly through the Field Marshals’ room into a narrow, winding passageway lined with tapestries until they, rather unexpectedly, stepped out into one of the prettiest rooms in the entire building, the Pavilion Hall with its magnificent Peacock clock to the left and a stunning mosaic floor to the right. But they barely had time even to look at it since their guide continued on into the upper landing of the Council Staircase, turning immediately to the right. This took them past the dark yet strangely moving canvas of Rembrandt’s The Prodigal Son. Other Rembrandts passed by in a flash, before they found themselves in the Small Spanish Skylight room, strangely named since this was in fact one of the larger rooms in the Hermitage, with some of the largest paintings in the entire museum. Their guide hurried them through the room, then into a long corridor with beautiful statues running down the centre. At the end of the corridor they turned right, into the Knight’s Room, aptly named for the many suits of armour and weapons that lined the walls.
All of this had passed by Dima and Natasha in a flash, not just because of the break-neck speed their guide had set. Their minds had also been on other matters. For tonight was the night for the opening ceremony – the official unveiling – of the original scroll of the book of Revelation.
As they neared the Twelve Column Hall in which the exhibition had been set up, they could hear the expectant buzz of a small crowd. Then, coming through the final doorway, they beheld a number of people standing around in small groups, looking curiously at large white sheets that hung from the ceiling obscuring the walls. Dr. Williams must have been looking out for them, for he immediately came over and gave them both a warm hug.
“Dima, Natasha,” he said, “so glad you could make it. We’re just waiting on the delegation from the Russian Orthodox Church, now. And they should be here any minute.”
“We wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” replied Natasha with a smile.
“Indeed,” said Dima, “We have been waiting eagerly to see the scroll again.”
Suddenly Dr. Williams looked over towards a different doorway. A large group of men dressed in traditional Orthodox robes were entering the exhibition room.
“Looks like you will need to wait no longer,” he said, before hurrying over to greet the new arrivals. He then nodded to an elderly, official-looking man who was standing off to one side of the hall. The man immediately stepped up to a waiting microphone and asked for quiet.
“That’s the curator of the Hermitage,” Dr. Williams whispered to Dima, after rejoining them. The hubbub of the crowd quickly subsided.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to this special ceremony,” began the curator. He continued by specifically singling out a number of important dignitaries, beginning with the high-ranking leaders of the Russian Orthodox Church standing off to his left. Eventually, the speech turned to the matter at hand. “Tonight,” he said grandly, “we will unveil something of remarkable literary and theological value, a find that historical scholars dream of making, yet so rarely does it happen. And yet it did happen to two young people present with us today.” He indicated Dima and Natasha, who were both immediately rather self-conscious as every eye in the room swivelled to look at them. “These two young people stumbled across a manuscript that, according to our in-depth research, was originally discovered in the ruins of Ephesus in 1885. As to how this manuscript came to be there, and when, that remains a mystery. The identity of this manuscript, however, is quite clear. It is a complete manuscript of the New Testament book of Revelation.”
There were murmurings from the crowd at this, but it cannot have been a surprise. The Hermitage had been advertising its upcoming exhibition for a number of weeks now, with large signs in the foyer boldly proclaiming that a manuscript of Revelation would soon be on display.
The curator continued. “That it is a complete manuscript is wonder enough. The age of the manuscript has led our own scholars to deduce that it was originally penned at the latest in the early second century. It is certainly more than a possibility that the manuscript may well have been written earlier, even in the closing years of the first century anno dominii. Further studies are, of course, warranted, but initial findings suggest that this manuscript, indeed” – he paused dramatically – “could well be the original manuscript itself, written by John himself.”
There were louder murmurings from the crowd at this point, for this had not been part of the advertising campaign. Dr. Williams turned to Dima and Natasha and whispered, “He’s only being cautious in a typically scholarly sort of way. He himself is convinced it’s the original; he just doesn’t want to stick his neck out too far!”
The curator’s speech continued for quite a few minutes more, before concluding with further statements of thankfulness to one and all for coming. Finally, he said, “It is without any further ado that I declare this exhibition open!” And with a dramatic tug of a velvet rope, all the white sheets were whisked into the air. There, revealed in all its glory, was the scroll of Revelation, each carefully preserved section laid out in sequence around the walls of the Twelve Column Hall.
The guests were given permission to wander so Dima and Natasha, followed closely by Dr. Williams, began to stroll around the scroll. Dima noticed that underneath each section was a translation in Russian and English. To present a more multi-media effect, a number of Russian icons written on scenes from Revelation had been included on partitions in the centre of the hall. Dima was especially pleased to see a large photograph of the Revelation icon from the wall of the Dormition Cathedral located within the Kremlin walls in Moscow.
Then, quite to their surprise, they found themselves looking at a photo of themselves. In the far corner of the exhibition hall was a special display detailing how the manuscript had come to be put on display in the Hermitage. There were enlarged pages from Nikolai’s diary that described the earthquake and the subsequent finding of the stone box. The photo of Nikolai holding the box standing next to the two unknown Turkish officers had also been blown up and put on display. There was a highly detailed map that showed Nikolai’s progress – as much as was known – in getting the box back to Russia. And there were pictures of Dima and Natasha standing in front of the old dilapidated shed in which they had found the box so many months before. It appeared that the Hermitage staff had been doing far more than merely collecting background information when they had requested to examine the diaries and the location in which the box had been found. Dima and Natasha had been very willing to help, little realising that as a result they would be included in the up-coming exhibition. It was all very overwhelming.
Dr. Williams stood between Dima and Natasha and put his arms around their shoulders. “You should be proud of yourselves. Thanks to you, we now have at our disposal the very handwriting of John himself and the manuscript that he wrote to comfort and challenge the persecuted church of Jesus Christ.”
“Thank-you, Dr. Williams,” replied Dima.
“Oh, call me... well, call me what you like,” said Dr. Williams with a smile.
“OK, thanks, Ed,” said Dima. “I have enjoyed our many discussions, too, about the meaning of the text.”
“So have I, so have I. And do you feel like you understand it all now?”
“Well,” replied Natasha, “we have recently been discussing the harvest of the earth described in chapter 14.”
“Hmmm, yes,” said Dr. Williams, frowning. “That is a tricky part. Let’s go have a look shall we?”
He released their shoulders and led them over to the wall of the exhibition hall where the fourteenth chapter was on display.
“Now, let’s see... Ah yes, here we are: ‘I looked, and there before me was a white cloud, and seated on the cloud was one like a son of man with a crown of gold on his head and a sharp sickle in his hand. Then another angel came out of the temple and called in a loud voice to him who was sitting on the cloud, “Take your sickle and reap, because the time to reap has come, for the harvest of the earth is ripe.” So he who was seated on the cloud swung his sickle over the earth, and the earth was harvested. Another angel came out of the temple in heaven, and he too had a sharp sickle. Still another angel, who had charge of the fire, came from the altar and called in a loud voice to him who had the sharp sickle, “Take your sharp sickle and gather the clusters of grapes from the earth’s vine, because its grapes are ripe.” The angel swung his sickle on the earth, gathered its grapes and threw them into the winepress of God’s wrath. They were trampled in the winepress outside the city, and blood flowed out of the press, rising as high as the horses’ bridles for a distance of 1,600 stadia.’[64] Well, what do you notice?”
Natasha, looking at the Russian translation, answered, “There are actually two harvests.”
“Excellent,” said Dr. Williams, excitedly. “There are two harvests, the first one of wheat, the second one of grapes. This is very similar to Joel chapter 3, verses 12 and 13: ‘Let the nations be roused; let them advance into the Valley of Jehoshaphat, for there I will sit to judge all the nations on every side. Swing the sickle, for the harvest is ripe. Come, trample the grapes, for the winepress is full and the vats overflow – so great is their wickedness!’ Now this sort of language is judgment language. In Joel, it is judgment of the nations. And similar language is used in Jeremiah 51:33 for judgment against Babylon. It is for this reason that many commentators believe that this is a judgment against the New Babylon and those who worship the Beast, just as was announced by the second and third angels earlier in this chapter.” He waved vaguely off to their left. “But can you see anything that might call such an interpretation into question?”
There was a long pause as both Dima and Natasha searched the wall in front of them.
“Well,” said Dima hesitantly, “the harvest doesn’t follow the angels’ comments at all. It follows a voice from heaven that says, ‘Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on’ and the Spirit’s reply, ‘Yes, they will rest from their labour, for their deeds will follow them.’”
“Very good. What else?”
“I think it is interesting,” said Natasha, excitedly, “that it says the reaping is done by the Son of Man sitting on a cloud. I’m sure I’ve heard that expression elsewhere in the Bible.”
“Good! Yes, it comes originally from Daniel, but Jesus used it in his Mount of Olives Discourse. In that context, however, it is not a reaping of judgment. It is a gathering of Jesus’ followers into the Kingdom of God. Consequently, some commentators think that John, here in the reaping of wheat, is describing the ingathering of the elect, and then secondly in the pressing of grapes, the judgment over everyone else.”
“But,” said Dima, “I’m starting to get the feeling that you don’t agree with that.”
“You’re right,” replied Dr. Williams. “To me, the parallel is too strong. For instance, the earth’s harvest is said to be ripe; so, too, are the grapes on the earth’s vine. No, I think John has one referent in mind here, underlying both harvests. And it isn’t the final judgment upon Rome and those who performed emperor worship. After all, that comes up in the next chapter.” He waved vaguely off to their right.
“What is he talking about, then?” asked Dima.
“I think John has left us some fairly glaring clues. Firstly, in verse 4 here” – he pointed to the place in the scroll – “John refers to those who were martyred for their faith as firstfruits. This is a word that describes the first part of a harvest that is offered as a sacrifice to God. So it really makes it easier to see the harvest that is described later in this very chapter as also referring to the martyrs.
“This leads us to the first of many references to wine in this chapter. Firstly, in verse 8, the second angel says, ‘Fallen! Fallen is Babylon the Great, which made all the nations drink the maddening wine of her adulteries.’ This is closely followed by God’s response to this evil wine. He brews up a wine of his own, in fact. Here, in verse 10, the third angel describes what will happen to someone who compromises and gives in to emperor worship: ‘he, too, will drink of the wine of God’s fury, which has been poured full strength into the cup of his wrath.’
“So then when we finally get to the harvest of the earth, we can see that it is actually a picture of how God prepares the wine of his fury. It is actually through the martyrdom of the church that the destruction of the persecutors is prepared. Someone once said that the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church, meaning that the church seems to grow most strongly when it is being persecuted. But that isn’t what John is saying. For him, the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the judgment that will inevitably fall upon the persecutors. I think it is no surprise that the following chapters describe the final judgment of Rome.”
There was a long silence. Finally, Dima said, “That must have been a difficult message to receive.”
Dr. Williams nodded. “Yes, and John knew it. See here in verse 12: ‘This calls for patient endurance on the part of the saints who obey God’s commandments and remain faithful to Jesus.’
Standing in the Hermitage, looking at the unravelled scroll on display, it was hard to imagine what it must have been like.
They had been passing vineyards for some time, so Loukas knew they were nearing the city of Philadelphia. It had been in his mind for some time now: how would they get into the city with the Romans on the lookout? He knew he would be endangering the life of the kind farmer who had picked them up, and driven them many miles, saving Artemas from hours of painful walking. So for his sake it made sense to take their leave before they reached the city, continuing the rest of the way on foot as best they could.
Suddenly, from just ahead of them, he heard a shout: “Loukas!”
Looking up with a start, Loukas saw someone standing beside the road. It was Melitos, a friend of Loukas’ family who lived in Philadelphia. Loukas put his hand on the farmer’s arm, and the man brought the cart to a stop. Loukas jumped down, giving Melitos a friendly hug.
“Melitos, well met!” said Loukas, warmly. “Were you looking for me, or have you just been sitting here watching the vines grow?”
“I have been sitting here for days, now, waiting for you,” replied Melitos. “You sure took your time!”
“Sorry to keep you waiting. You knew I was coming?”
“Well, a slave in the Roman garrison heard about the warrant for your arrest…” He trailed off as Loukas was making subtle yet frantic gestures with his hands.
Loukas turned around quickly and addressed the farmer. “Looks like we can walk from here. Thank-you, sir, for your hospitality.”
“You’re welcome. But are you sure, though? The city is still some distance away.”
“We will be fine,” said Loukas, as he began helping Artemas down from the rear of the wagon. Artemas winced as his foot touched the ground, but with Loukas’ arm around his shoulders he was able to walk over to Melitos.
“Right you are, then,” replied the farmer, amiably. He clicked his tongue and the two donkeys started up again. He was soon out of sight, the wagon disappearing around a curve in the road.
“You were saying something about a slave?” said Artemas.
“Yes, Erdemos is his name. Since he’s one of us, he was quick to share the news with the church elders. I was sent to wait for you, to warn you not to enter Philadelphia.”
Loukas was dismayed. “But I have to! I have a message for the church, a message from Ioanneis – well, from God – and I have to read it to them.”
Melitos nodded. “Yes, we have even heard of this scroll, too. But you don’t have to come to the church. The church will come to you.”
And with this, he put his arm around Artemas’ shoulders and started to head away from the road. Loukas put his travel bag over his own shoulder and followed.
“So where are we headed?” he asked after half an hour. “This path does not lead to Philadelphia, unless I have become particularly disoriented this late in the day.”
Melitos, puffing slightly from the extra effort involved in assisting Artemas, replied, “No, you are right. The city is too dangerous for you. We are going to a small village, actually not too distant from Philadelphia. There will be a place for you to stay there, and food for you to eat. In the morning I will return to the city to gather the elders of the church...”
Melitos continued explaining the details, but at the mention of food, Loukas stopped paying much attention. They had not eaten since breakfast and it was nearing sunset. The shepherd’s milk and dried fruits had become a distant memory.
It was getting dark fast. But then as they came around the side of a hill covered in vines, they could see a flickering glow in the distance, and the delicious smell of a meat stew seasoned with garlic and onions wafted towards them. Even Artemas picked up the pace and before long they were seated on logs around a cheery fire, spooning chunks of meat into their mouths as fast as the temperature of the food would allow.
After the meal, they were shown to a small room in a hut where they gratefully collapsed onto some reed mats that had been laid out for them. Loukas was asleep almost immediately.
The next morning, true to his word, Melitos headed off to the nearby city to gather the church together. He reappeared after about an hour, and then over the next hour or so the elders of the church of Philadelphia along with some other members of the congregation made their way into the village in twos and threes. They gathered in the centre of the village, some sitting on the steps of the small houses, others finding as comfortable a spot as they could on the stony ground. Loukas sat off to the side, leaning against a tree, and when Melitos gave the signal that all were present, he began to read.
This was now the sixth church to which he had read the scroll out loud, and yet the words of the scroll still filled his soul with such fire. As he read the vision of the one like a Son of Man he could almost see Iēsus in his mind – although now he had the face of Iani, the shepherd.
Again, he felt a stir run through those assembled as he read the words written specifically for them.
“ ‘To the angel of the church in Philadelphia write: These are the words of him who is holy and true, who holds the key of David. What he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open. I know your deeds. See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut. I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name. I will make those who are of the synagogue of Satan, who claim to be Jews though they are not, but are liars – I will make them come and fall down at your feet and acknowledge that I have loved you.’[65]”
What was almost surprising was that, unlike the other churches, Iēsus, through Ioanneis, had nothing bad to say about the church in Philadelphia. Yes, like the churches of Smyrna and Sardis, they had been suffering persecution as a result of the actions of the Jewish people in the city. Loukas had been talking with Melitos while waiting for everyone to arrive and had heard that the Synagogue leaders had spoken out against the Christians, threatening them with denunciations to the Roman officials if they tried to remain under the auspices of the Synagogue. But Ioanneis’ scroll made it crystal clear: Iēsus holds the key of David, thereby emphasising his Messiahship. And by their rejection of Iēsus as the Messiah, the Jews of Philadelphia had forfeited the right to be called Jews. In fact, because of their slanderous accusations of the Christians, they had in fact become a synagogue of Satan.
Yet Iēsus had opened a door of evangelism for the church of Philadelphia, that would see these very Jews come and pay homage to the Christians. Loukas could hear the echoes of the prophecies of Isaiah[66], but they had been wonderfully stood on their head. Instead of the Gentile oppressors of Israel coming to recognise Israel’s supremacy in the Kingdom of God, it would be the Jewish oppressors of the largely Gentile church coming to recognise that the church is in fact the true Israel!
And then, of course, there was the promise that they would escape the coming persecution!
“ ‘Since you have kept my command to endure patiently, I will also keep you from the hour of trial that is going to come upon the whole world to test those who live on the earth.
“ ‘I am coming soon. Hold on to what you have, so that no one will take your crown. Him who overcomes I will make a pillar in the temple of my God. Never again will he leave it. I will write on him the name of my God and the name of the city of my God, the New Jerusalem, which is coming down out of heaven from my God; and I will also write on him my new name. He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.’[67]”
So it seemed like Philadelphia would be the place to ride out the coming wave of persecutions. Perhaps, thought Loukas, I could persuade my family to move here, even temporarily. And Iounia, too…
As before, certain passages appeared to resonate with those assembled to hear Ioanneis’ scroll. The Philadelphians were visibly touched by the passage in which the third seal is opened and a voice describes the effects of a famine resulting from the failure of the wheat and barley crops, but that would leave the wine and oil harvests intact.[68] The loss of a grain crop could be endured, since there would be another harvest the following year. But the destruction of vines and olive trees would cripple a region’s economy for years. And, of course, the Philadelphian economy was largely dependent on its vineyards.
But the passage that brought things to a temporary standstill was the Seven Bowls. Perhaps it was because there were many in the church who had suffered at the hands of the Romans, as a result of being denounced by certain Jewish citizens of the city. Even as Loukas was reading as each bowl was poured out, he could feel the tension rising. The first bowl brought sicknesses upon those who had worshipped the image of the Beast, an encouragement to those who had not compromised their faith by performing Emperor worship and had suffered accordingly. The second and third bowls turned all water to blood, in payback for all the blood of Christians that had been shed by the Roman Empire. The fourth bowl was poured on the Sun, but instead of putting it out, it made it shine hotter. But this did not bring about repentance, for the time of repentance was over. This was the final Judgment.
The fifth bowl was poured on the throne of the Beast – Rome, itself – plunging it into darkness. Then the sixth bowl was poured on the Euphrates River, drying it up thereby allowing the Eastern kings to attack the Empire.
“ ‘The seventh angel poured out his bowl into the air, and out of the temple came a loud voice from the throne, saying, “It is done!” Then there came flashes of lightning, rumblings, peals of thunder and a severe earthquake. No earthquake like it has ever occurred since man has been on earth, so tremendous was the quake. The great city split into three parts, and the cities of the nations collapsed. God remembered Babylon the Great and gave her the cup filled with the wine of the fury of his wrath.’[69]”
This, then, was the earth-shattering event that Ioanneis’ scroll was predicting: that at some time in the not-too-distant future, after a limited period of intensified persecution, Rome would fall. For all its sins against the Church, God would come in judgment and destroy the Roman Empire completely. For this small group of Christians this was welcome news, and there were plenty of noisy conversations that broke out at this point, as people discussed the implications.
It was also high treason. Again, Loukas was thankful that Ioanneis had at least tried to veil his language somewhat – referring to Rome as Babylon, for example. Even then, references to the ‘seven hills’ in the following section were not very cryptic! All the more reason why the scroll should not fall into the wrong hands…
As he waited for silence, Loukas caught the occasional exclamation:
“All that blood!”
“Kings from the East, he says. Well, I have heard that the Parthians are reforming again…”
“My uncle still lives in Rome. I had better write to him immediately!”
Then, just as most people stopped talking, one man was left speaking. “Why should we believe this? It’s just Ioanneis’ wishful thinking, isn’t it….” The man trailed off embarrassedly.
“Not at all,” replied Loukas, who had, after all, had a lot more time to think about these things than anyone else present. “Did not Iēsus himself declare judgment upon Jerusalem, predicting destruction within a generation? Well that certainly came to pass, and now he, through Ioanneis, is declaring judgment upon Rome – and soon!”
There was a reflective pause as everyone digested Loukas’ words and then one of the elders of the church motioned for Loukas to continue reading. There were no further interruptions.
After he finished reading, the same elder came up to Loukas and thanked him for reading the scroll to the church.
“You will be leaving for Laodicea?” he enquired.
“Yes, as soon as possible,” replied Loukas.
“But your friend, he is in no condition to travel. Perhaps he can stay here in Philadelphia and rest a while.”
“Well, it would make it quicker,” agreed Loukas. “And perhaps the Romans won’t be looking for just one person travelling alone…”
“Then it is settled,” said the elder. “Artemas can stay in my home. And then, by the time you return from Laodicea, he should be well enough to make the return journey to Ephesus.”
Loukas nodded. He was not looking forward to walking to Laodicea and back with only the scroll for company.
Dima was washing the dishes when the phone rang.
“Tash!” he called, after it had been ringing for a while. “Can you get that? I’m busy.”
“Sure,” replied Natasha from the bedroom. She came out into their main room and answered the phone.
“Hello?” she said. “Oh, hi Dr. Will… I mean, Ed. Yes, we’re all fine… What’s that? An interview?… Well, I guess so… From England? And they are here now?… OK, then, tomorrow at two… Sure, I’ll pass that on… Until tomorrow…” And she hung up. “Ed says ‘Hi’. And there’s a visiting writer for a Christian magazine staying at the University, and they want to interview us tomorrow.”
“Really? Well, I hope we will be interesting enough.”
“Hey, speak for yourself!” exclaimed Natasha, with a laugh. “You forget that the exhibition has been extremely popular. There have been long queues of people waiting to get into the Hermitage, despite the recent cold spell, and they’re all there to see the scroll.”
“Well,” replied Dima, placing a clean glass in the drying rack above the sink, “that’s true. I’ve been following a little of the international interest on some news sites.”
“I wonder what questions we will be asked?”
“We’ll find out tomorrow…”
Lying in bed later that night, Dima found it hard to fall asleep. He kept turning over in his mind what he might say. But as he was drifting off to sleep he kept getting the details of the seven seals and the seven bowls mixed up. And how many heads did the beast from the earth have? And how did you add up the letters to make 666? Not surprisingly his dreams, once he did fall asleep, were filled with apocalyptic imagery and difficult exegetical decisions.
But the next day, upon entering the office of Dr. Williams, Dima and Natasha were introduced to Andy Smith, a writer for the magazine Christianity. He turned out to be a short man, with wiry hair and a big smile. He shook each of their hands in turn with a ferocity bordering on physical abuse, leaving Dima surreptitiously massaging his hand throughout the interview.
After a few introductory questions, Andy started asking about the finding of the scroll. Dima and Natasha had had to recount this many times, so they answered him easily, taking turns with the details. Of course, this led directly to how the scroll had come to be located in their family’s dacha. So Dima spoke about his great-great-grandfather’s experiences in Turkey and his journey in bringing the scroll back to Russia.
“So you believe that this scroll is genuine?” asked Andy.
“Oh yes,” interjected Dr. Williams. “Even if we had no information about how the scroll came to be found here in Russia, the evidence we have collected from the scroll itself is enough to prove both its age and provenance. We are dealing with a scroll that without a doubt comes from the correct time and place, Asia Minor towards the end of the first century A.D.”
“Could it really be the actual scroll, written in the Apostle John’s hand?”
“Well,” replied Dr. Williams, “you are assuming that the Apostle John was the author. The book of Revelation makes no claim to apostolic authority. But if you are asking me whether this is the actual scroll as written by the man who experienced these visions, then my answer is ‘Yes’.”
Andy made some notes on his notebook computer, and then looked up at Dima. For some reason, Dima was suddenly hit with a sense of foreboding. Was this the moment that his dreams had been prefiguring?
“Dima, there have been many people claiming that the finding of the actual scroll of Revelation was no accident, that God wanted it revealed at this time, because we are entering the End Times.”
Dima nodded. He had certainly been reading such things on a number of pro-premillennial websites recently.
“Do you agree with them?”
Dima swallowed. Yes, this was that moment. He took a deep breath.
“Well, Andy, no I don’t.”
Not knowing Andy’s personal views on the matter, Dima paused for a moment, trying to gauge his response. But Andy was smiling, so perhaps it would be OK.
“No, I don’t think we are entering the End Times,” he continued, “because I think we entered the End Times when Jesus rose from the dead. The resurrection was the moment that started the End. And really the last event that had to occur before Jesus could return to end history was the destruction of Jerusalem that he had predicted would occur. And that happened in 70 A.D. Since then Jesus could come at any time.”
“But then what is the book of Revelation talking about, if not the End Times?”
Glancing briefly at Dr. Williams, who nodded encouragingly, Dima replied, “Well, it is a book written to encourage Christians who are experiencing persecution. In fact, the book warns them that the persecution will get worse for a time, but that the persecutors will soon be destroyed by God’s judgment. Of course, at that time Rome was the enemy of the church. Revelation 17 makes that quite clear: the Woman in that chapter is Rome, and the Beast she is sitting on is the Roman Empire. After all, the Beast is described as having seven heads, which is explained in verse 9 as referring to seven hills. And Rome was famous for having seven hills.”
“That’s right,” continued Dr. Williams, as Dima paused for breath. “To use technical language, in chapters 17 and 18 John is demythologising the worship of Roma. He has already warned his Christian readers against participating in emperor worship. Now, he shines the light of truth on those who would worship the city of Rome. Apparently, prostitutes of the time wore purple robes, and would wear a headband with their name on it. John describes the Woman in exactly these terms, drunk on the blood of persecuted Christians. And he gives her the name ‘Mystery, Babylon’, where ‘mystery’ means symbolic, and ‘Babylon’ stands for the city that is opposed to the People of God.
“And it continues into the next chapter. Where chapter 17 is like an apocalyptic political cartoon, chapter 18 is more like Old Testament prophecy in that it contains a lament concerning Rome’s fall. In fact, there is a good piece of evidence in this chapter as to why the Seven Bowls are not referring to the total destruction of the world. If the Seven Bowls did refer to the total destruction of the world, how could there be kings of other nations watching from a distance, mourning? How could there be merchants lamenting at how the markets for their produce have dried up? Instead, we see that the destruction is localised. It is focused on Rome, the city responsible for implementing the religious policies that resulted in the persecution of Christians.”
“OK,” replied Andy, looking at the notes on his computer screen, “but Dima said earlier that destruction would be ‘soon’. What did you mean?”
Dima looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, there are quite a few references to something happening ‘soon’. And it sort of depends on where you think ‘now’ is in John’s presentation of events.”
“Hang on a minute,” said Dr. Williams. He turned to his own computer screen, started up his Bible software, and entered in a search for the word ‘soon’ restricted to the book of Revelation.
“Look, the first verse in the book says, ‘The revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave him to show his servants what must soon take place.’[70] Verse 3 of that first chapter says, ‘Blessed is the one who reads the words of this prophecy, and blessed are those who hear it and take to heart what is written in it, because the time is near.’ In 2:16 Jesus says he will come in judgment against the Nicolaitans soon. In 3:11 Jesus says he is coming soon. And then right near the end, we find this passage: ‘The angel said to me, “These words are trustworthy and true. The Lord, the God of the spirits of the prophets, sent his angel to show his servants the things that must soon take place.” “Behold, I am coming soon! Blessed is he who keeps the words of the prophecy in this book.” I, John, am the one who heard and saw these things. And when I had heard and seen them, I fell down to worship at the feet of the angel who had been showing them to me. But he said to me, “Do not do it! I am a fellow servant with you and with your brothers the prophets and of all who keep the words of this book. Worship God!” Then he told me, “Do not seal up the words of the prophecy of this book, because the time is near.” ’[71]
“The question we have to ask is, What are the events he is talking about? What precisely is near? It really seems that John believed himself to be in the time leading up to the end of the Roman Empire, but not the end of the entire world, and certainly not the end of the material universe. He is like those Old Testament prophets who prophesied over the enemies of Israel for their role in the exile of the People of God. Isaiah, for example, spoke about the fall of Babylon, often using ‘end of the world’ language to describe it, too.”
He pressed a few more keys.
“Here, for example, in an oracle spoken against Babylon, Isaiah says, ‘See, the day of the Lord is coming – a cruel day, with wrath and fierce anger – to make the land desolate and destroy the sinners within it. The stars of heaven and their constellations will not show their light. The rising sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light. I will punish the world for its evil, the wicked for their sins. I will put an end to the arrogance of the haughty and will humble the pride of the ruthless. I will make man scarcer than pure gold, more rare than the gold of Ophir. Therefore I will make the heavens tremble; and the earth will shake from its place at the wrath of the Lord Almighty, in the day of his burning anger.’[72] You see? Lots of end-of-the-world language, talking about the imminent end of a political empire.”
He stopped.
“Ah, I seem to have taken over the discussion somewhat. Please excuse me.”
“No, that’s alright,” said Andy. “What you say is interesting. But getting back to Dima, if what you have said is true, then did John’s prophecy come true? The fall of Rome did not happen until 410 A.D. when Alaric and his barbarian hordes sacked the city. If, as you say, the book of Revelation was written towards the end of the first century, then that’s not exactly soon.”
“True,” replied Dima. “I have been struggling a little with that. I guess it depends on how literally you want to interpret the fulfilment. You could say that Rome ‘fell’ when Constantine became a Christian in about 312 A.D. Even Domitian’s death could have been seen as a partial fulfilment. He was, after all, the emperor alive at the time of the writing of Revelation, and it was he who the Christians were being forced to worship.”
Andy looked down again at his notebook.
“Well, I guess that covers the questions I had prepared. But I’m left wondering, if Revelation was written into that specific situation, what use is it to us today?”
Natasha, who had not spoken for a long time, finally saw an opening.
“It is extremely useful,” she exclaimed, passionately. “Wherever there is persecution, the book of Revelation can bring encouragement. And there is more persecution of Christians in the world now than at any previous time in history, so that means Revelation is even more relevant today. Granted, the specific details might be different, but the broad thrust of the book holds true: that Christians are to endure persecution and not give in to the temptation to compromise one’s faith. But at the same time, the very act of being persecuted will bring about the destruction of those doing the persecuting.”
Dima continued, “Yes, and the church here in Russia knows what that means, for they endured decades of persecution at the hands of an athieistic communist government. And yet that government was eventually overthrown. Even now, there are signs that the evangelical church here in Russia is about to experience a resurgence of persecution.”
“What do you mean?” asked Andy.
“Well, there has been some legislation passed recently that only really applies to those evangelical Christian churches that started up in the wake of the fall of communism. Little things, like churches are required to document and report all financial gifts that come from foreigners. But how can you do that if you are passing around a collection plate? And there are restrictions about participating in social welfare programs, and holding outreach events, things like that. Oh, I don’t think it will get anywhere as bad as it was before. But I still find that the book of Revelation encourages me to hold firm to what I believe.”
“Indeed,” agreed Natasha.
“Well,” said Andy, “thanks for your time. I have everything I need.”
“ ‘To the angel of the church in Laodicea write: These are the words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the ruler of God's creation.’[73]”
Finally, after so many weeks – months, even – it had come to this: the reading of the scroll to the seventh church. He was in a hamlet not far from Laodicea, since it was too dangerous for him to try and enter the city itself. Loukas looked around at the assembled people, many of whom wore expensive black woollen clothing and fine gold jewellery, and sighed inwardly. He was exhausted from being on the road for such a long time, most recently entirely on his own, and he was about to read out rather a stinging rebuke. Well, it had to be done, and when it was over he would be free to return home to Ephesus and be with his family – and Iounia! – through the trials to come.
“ ‘I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm – neither hot nor cold – I am about to spit you out of my mouth. You say, “I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.” But you do not realise that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.’[74]”
There was an immediate reaction. Ioanneis, of course, had worked in this city as part of his itinerant ministry to the churches of the whole Asian region. So he well knew the city’s reputation for reliable banking, its manufacture of a famous eye ointment, and a booming textile industry built on the back of the special glossy-black wool grown in the region. And yet here he was deliberately negating those very things! Loukas could see the people, especially the wealthy ones, squirming in their places. And what was their problem? Iēsus knew: indifference. They were neither hot nor cold. They were not hot in their enthusiasm for following Iēsus, and they were not cold towards the depravity of the pagan religions so prevalent in their society. Loukas was sure that these people would be quick to compromise their faith in the face of increasing persecution. And yet, that very persecution could be the agent of their salvation...
“ ‘I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see.’[75]”
Loukas knew that these words would be explained later in the scroll: that those who were able to withstand the fires of persecution would be refined in the process; and those who did not compromise their faith would be given white clothes to wear, the white clothes of the faithful martyrs.[76] He continued reading, despite the angry murmurings.
“ ‘Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest, and repent. Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me. To him who overcomes, I will give the right to sit with me on my throne, just as I overcame and sat down with my Father on his throne. He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.’[77]”
Now there was an invitation! Each time he read those words, Loukas mentally answered that call. Oh, to eat with the Lord! And to sit with him on his throne! It would be worth any amount of suffering. But thoughts of persecution again drew his mind back to Ephesus and what he might find when he returned.
The reading of the rest of the scroll passed without incident. The people had clearly been challenged by the earlier rebuke, but they had also accepted the exhortation not to compromise when it came to Emperor worship. Loukas could hear small groups of believers discussing what they would do to avoid participation in the various civic festivals and guild feasts.
An elder in the church approached Loukas.
“Thank-you, young man, for your willingness to come here and read Ioanneis’ scroll.”
“You are welcome, sir,” replied Loukas. “I promised Ioanneis that I would do what I could.”
“It has clearly come at some personal cost.”
Loukas nodded. “Yes, it has not been easy. I began the journey with two companions. One left me in Sardis, the other I left in Philadelphia. I must return there on my way home.”
“You will be wanting to leave soon?”
“Yes,” replied Loukas with a sigh. “Perhaps tomorrow. I am eager to see my family and friends again. We have heard that there have been arrests in Ephesus, and I am concerned for their welfare.”
“But are they not in God’s hands?” said the elder.
Again Loukas sighed. “I know that. But it is still hard to bear.”
“Did you not find encouragement in what happens to the Beast in the end?”
Loukas knew the passage well. He quoted from memory: “ ‘Then I saw the beast and the kings of the earth and their armies gathered together to make war against the rider on the horse and his army. But the beast was captured, and with him the false prophet who had performed the miraculous signs on his behalf. With these signs he had deluded those who had received the mark of the beast and worshipped his image. The two of them were thrown alive into the fiery lake of burning sulphur.’[78] Yes, that is an encouragement: to know that the Roman empire will fall, along with all its representatives and followers.”
“Then may God grant us strength to endure that we may see that come to pass!”
“Indeed,” replied Loukas.
“Well,” said the elder, suddenly all businesslike, “let’s see what we can do for you to help you on your way. You will be needing some food for the journey, and... just look at your shoes! They are more hole than leather! Martha!” he called out to a woman standing to one side of the meeting room talking quietly with some other women. “Loukas here is in need of new shoes. Can you take care of him, please? I will see about that food.”
“Certainly,” the woman replied, coming over. “Let’s see what we can find, shall we?”
Loukas smiled and went with her. Suddenly he felt an amazing sense of relief that the task had been completed, and it was now time to head for home. Iounia, he thought, I’m coming...
The phone call from Nadezhda came late one night after Dima and Natasha had retired to their bed to read.
“Oh, who could that be?” asked Natasha with annoyance.
“I hope it is nothing serious,” said Dima, as he got out of bed. He walked quickly into the other room and lifted the receiver. “Hello?”
“Dima? It’s Babushka.”
“Babushka! Is anything wrong?”
“No, dear. But I thought you would want to know as soon as possible.”
“Know what?”
“Well, you know how you were looking for an extra piece of parchment? Something has come up. I think you will want to see for yourself.”
Dima was suddenly very excited. “Did you find it?”
“No,” Nadezhda replied, “I didn’t. But I know where it is. How soon can you visit?”
Dima turned to look at Natasha who had come in from the bedroom to listen in. “I think we could come this weekend. Will we be able to see the parchment when we arrive?”
“Yes, dear. And you can take it with you. Perhaps it could be added to the display in the Hermitage.”
“Of course,” replied Dima. “That is, if it is related to the scroll Revelation. Is it? Can you tell?”
“I think you will have to decide that for yourself. I look forward to seeing you soon, dear. Give my love to Natasha.”
“I will. Goodbye, Babushka.”
He hung up the receiver.
“She found the parchment?” asked Natasha.
“No, she said she didn’t find it. But it has appeared all the same.”
“Well, it looks like we are off to Nizhny Novgorod again...”
They returned to the bedroom, but were too excited to pick up their respective reading books.
“I wonder what the parchment will say?” said Dima. “I keep hoping it will be an explanation from the original author. You know, giving some extra details to some of the more difficult passages.”
“But haven’t you been saying that the original readers of Revelation would have known what the book meant? That implies that none of the passages would have been considered ‘difficult’.”
“I guess so. Still, it would be nice. I mean, take chapter 20. This is the chapter that deals with the millennium: a one-thousand-year period when Satan is bound and Jesus reigns on Earth with the victorious saints. This is the passage about which all the major interpretations turn. You get pre-millennialism and post-millennialism, depending on whether you think Jesus will return before or after the millennium. Alternatively, there’s a-millennialism if you think the millennium should be interpreted metaphorically. I just think it would have been nice for John to give us just a little bit of extra help. It might have narrowed down the interpretive options somewhat...”
“But what would the first readers have thought?” asked Natasha.
“I don’t know!” replied Dima with some annoyance. “I wasn’t there.”
“Well, it seems to me that if someone was to read Revelation, and understand that most of it up to and including chapter 19 was about Rome persecuting the church and being punished as a result, then when you come to a passage that talks about 1000 years, then what comes after that must be events of the distant future.”
Dima was thoughtful as he considered this.
“OK, that makes sense. The millennium is a significant temporal marker, clearly separating imminent events – imminent, that is, for those first century believers – from final events. The fall of Rome is an imminent event, but the last judgment which comes up in chapter 21 is a final event.”
“Right,” nodded Natasha, picking up her book again.
“But what is the millennium?”
Natasha put her book down again. Clearly the discussion was not over.
“I think we need to look at the text.”
“OK,” replied Dima. He got out his Bible. “Here it is.”
“Well, what does it say?”
“ ‘And I saw an angel coming down out of heaven, having the key to the Abyss and holding in his hand a great chain. He seized the dragon, that ancient serpent, who is the devil, or Satan, and bound him for a thousand years. He threw him into the Abyss, and locked and sealed it over him, to keep him from deceiving the nations anymore until the thousand years were ended. After that, he must be set free for a short time. I saw thrones on which were seated those who had been given authority to judge. And I saw the souls of those who had been beheaded because of their testimony for Jesus and because of the word of God. They had not worshipped the beast or his image and had not received his mark on their foreheads or their hands. They came to life and reigned with Christ a thousand years.’[79]”
“Now draw out the clues John has left for us,” said Natasha, patiently. “The first is clear: Satan is bound for the thousand years to keep him from deceiving the nations. So Satan’s activity is restricted in some way.”
“Right. I know that a-millennialists see this passage as referring to the age of the church, and that although Satan is still active in the world, he is unable to prevent the spread of the Gospel.”
“Sounds to me like you already know which way you are leaning,” said Natasha, with a sly grin. “Well, the next clue is these thrones.”
“Right, but the passage doesn’t say where these thrones are. Are they in heaven or are they on earth? A-millennialists would say the former, pre-millennialists would argue the latter.”
“Well, what does the text say? It says that the victorious martyrs come to life and reign with Christ. So wherever Jesus is, that is where you will find these Christians.”
“OK, but that doesn’t necessarily get you off the hook. Pre-millennialists would say that Jesus is now on the Earth having returned to bring judgment upon all nations.”
“But that is not how we would interpret the previous chapters of Revelation. The judgment was only upon Rome. If that is right then there is no need to see Jesus as physically present on the Earth at this point in the book. In fact, listen to this earlier verse: ‘To him who overcomes, I will give the right to sit with me on my throne, just as I overcame and sat down with my Father on his throne’[80] This is clearly happening in the heavenly realm.”
“OK,” said Dima, slowly. “So what you are saying is that these martyrs are brought to life to reign with Jesus in heaven.”
“Yes, and that here on earth life goes on, and death too, since Death has not been dealt with yet. Those Christians who were not killed by Rome continue to spread the Gospel, and people from all nations are given the chance to become Christians now that Satan is restricted from deceiving them completely. In other words, ordinary life as we know it now.”
“So that would make you a-millennial, too,” said Dima.
“Yes, and to be honest, I really think it fits with the broader sweep of Scripture far better than the alternatives. Pre-millennialism suffers from what I would argue was an un-biblical form of dualism nicely summarised by the phrase ‘I am going to heaven and this world can go to hell.’ It’s too pessimistic. It doesn’t do justice to the Biblical theme of redemption: that God’s ultimate purpose is to to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under Christ. Yet post-millennialism is too optimistic. It plays down the sinfulness of humanity in thinking that good will gradually triumph over evil bringing in a golden age of Christian prosperity and dominance. Such a view might have been possible a hundred years ago, before the two World Wars. But now? If the twentieth century has taught us anything it is that things are not getting better. No, in my opinion a-millenialism best fits the tension between the ‘now’ and the ‘not yet’ that categorises Biblical eschatology.”
“Wow, how did you work all that out?”
“Well, I can read, too, you know.”
Natasha picked up the book she had been reading. It was G. B. Caird’s commentary on the book of Revelation.
“Ah, I wondered where that had got to,” said Dima, laughing.
The summer sun was hot on Loukas’ and Artemas’ heads as they walked along the Roman road. They were able to keep up a decent speed since Artemas’ ankle had healed well during the time he had stayed in Philadelphia. But the pace was still not fast enough for Loukas. He wanted to be back in Ephesus, to be with his family, to see Iounia again. He knew that Artemas, too, was worried. But they had not spoken much about it.
Yet, even if the worst was to happen, he knew that God was still in control. There would be an ultimate judgment, Ioanneis’ scroll made it clear, and all those whose names were written in the Book of Life would be restored to a better life on the new Earth. In his mind, he recited the words from near the end of the scroll:
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!”[81]
It reminded him of the time when he had entered Ioanneis’ home on Patmos, and had overheard him reading from the book of Isaiah. What had Ioanneis said then? Something along the lines of, ‘This is how the story ends. Through all your pain and suffering remember this: it will be entirely forgotten when we are living in the joy of God’s New Jerusalem.’
It was true: it was comforting to know that things would work out in the end. Wrongs would be made right. Justice would be done. Oppressors would be over thrown. Death itself would be destroyed. And the followers of Iēsus would be together, forever, with their King.
That thought brought new strength to Loukas’ weary feet. The remaining miles to Ephesus would fly by...
There were four of them in the train compartment: Dima and Natasha, Yevgeny and Marina. When Yevgeny had heard that the parchment had apparently been found, he had wanted to come; and Marina had not wanted to be left behind.
There was plenty of time to talk. Initially the men had been discussing the recent ice-hockey season, while Natasha had been hearing from Marina how her pregnancy was progressing. But all their thoughts were centred on the parchment, and how it related to the scroll of Revelation.
Eventually, after a pause in the conversation, Yevgeny spoke.
“So, Dima, what have you learnt about the book of Revelation?”
“That’s a broad question,” replied Dima, smiling. “A broad answer is ‘a lot’!”
“OK, let me refine the question. I know that you now view the book as primarily applying to the original recipients. But where does that leave us today? How does the book of Revelation relate to us?”
Dima nodded. “Now that’s a better discussion starter. Hmmm, let me see. I think we should start by saying that we cannot simply assume that a particular passage of the Bible can be directly applied to us today. To do so is to ignore its original context and even purpose, and you can easily end up misapplying the passage. Instead, we have to try and look at the passage in its original context, being especially mindful of the culture and setting. Only then can we see how the writer has applied his teaching to the situation. Actually, if we do it right, we may find a more general principle at work than the one the passage more explicitly appears to teach.”
Yevgeny nodded in agreement. “Right, and a good example of that is Titus 2:3-5: ‘Likewise, teach the older women to be reverent in the way they live, not to be slanderers or addicted to much wine, but to teach what is good. Then they can train the younger women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject to their husbands, so that no one will malign the word of God.’ Some people would want to say, ‘This is what the Bible teaches; therefore, this is what you must do.’ In other words, they are saying that this teaching of Paul’s is true for everyone, for all time, that it is universally applicable. Now, you probably wouldn’t argue in this case...”
“Well,” interjected Marina, with a laugh, “I’m not sure about that ‘busy at home’ part.”
“The point is,” continued Yevgeny, “those who advocate universal applicability will not want to see the passage as having been written in a particular cultural setting. For them, it doesn’t matter, since it is true for all time. But if you deal with the passage in its culture and setting, you will realise that the external culture was impacting on Paul’s teaching quite considerably. And you can see this when Paul says, ‘so that no one will malign the word of God.’ In fact, following what you were saying, Dima, you can argue that the general principle underlying Paul’s teaching is cultural sensitivity. Paul is teaching the church to behave in such a way that outsiders looking in will find nothing to hold against them.”
“And you can find the same teaching elsewhere in the New Testament,” said Natasha. “I’ve just been reading First Peter, and he says in verse 12 of chapter 2: ‘Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us.’ ”
“Good,” said Yevgeny. “But then what do we do with some of Paul’s other teaching about women, such as not allowing them to teach men? After all, he’s pretty clear: ‘I do not permit a woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she must be silent.’[82]”
“Well,” said Dima, cautiously, “if we were to apply that in our current cultural context, and plenty of churches do, then people outside the church will do precisely what Paul doesn’t want: they will malign the word of God.”
“In other words,” said Natasha, “in this situation we might actually need to do the opposite of what Paul teaches in order to follow the underlying principle of cultural sensitivity: we have to allow women to teach and even have authority over men.”
“Yes,” said Yevgeny, nodding. “Of course, we cannot allow the external culture to dictate entirely. We can only overturn Paul’s surface teaching when there are good grounds to do so. And in this case we can see that there is a fundamental equality between the sexes underlying Paul’s theology, most clearly stated in Galatians 3:28: ‘There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.’ In fact, many scholars argue that women in some of Paul’s churches had taken this and were really applying it. In Corinth, for example, we hear of women praying and prophesying in church. But Paul is trying to hold them back: he doesn’t want them to go too far and bring the Gospel into disrepute by their actions.”
“So how does this help us with Revelation?” asked Marina.
“Simply this,” replied Dima. “We cannot simply assume that the book of Revelation applies to us directly. We have to examine what the book meant for those who first received it, and hopefully find underlying principles that we can then apply to situations today. In the case of Revelation, we can see that it was written to people in the context of persecution. And it teaches them not to compromise their faith, for those who withstand will be rewarded in the end. And it promises them that those who persecute them will ultimately be judged. In fact, it promises something even stronger than that: it says that the very act of persecuting Christians will directly bring about the destruction of the persecutors.”
“And does that apply to today?” asked Yevgeny.
“Yes,” said Natasha, “wherever and whenever the church is persecuted. In the context of persecution the book of Revelation exhorts believers to resist the temptation to compromise, and to rest in the promise that the martyrdom of the saints will directly result in the fall of the persecutors.”
“And since,” added Dima, “there are more people today suffering persecution for their faith in Jesus Christ than at any other time in history, you could say that the book of Revelation is even more relevant now than when it was first written.”
“Wow,” exclaimed Yevgeny, “you guys have learned something!”
They came upon Ephesus late in the day. The city gates did not appear to be closely watched so Loukas and Artemas walked through unopposed. Once inside the city they paused in the shadow of a large building and rested for a few moments. Citizens were hurrying about trying to finish their business before nightfall. Artisans were closing their shops; market vendors were packing up their stalls.
“I’m not sure what to do,” said Loukas, softly. “Do I go home? But what if the Romans are watching the house?”
“Well, I know what I want to do,” said Artemas. “I want to go home.”
Artemas’ house was certainly closer, and sort of on the way to Loukas’, so it made sense to stay together for a while longer.
Leaving the relative obscurity of the shade, they made their way up the crowded streets, dodging out of the way of the occasional cart, ever watchful for Roman soldiers.
Eventually, they came to Artemas’ street. There did not appear to be anyone watching his house, so they walked up to the door and knocked.
“Who’s there?” asked a gruff voice, after a few moments.
“Father? It’s Artemas. I’m back.”
They could hear bolts being drawn and the door was thrown open.
“Quick, come in. Before anyone sees.”
Suddenly, they were in the gloom of the house. After a while his eyes adjusted and Loukas was able to see Artemas being given an enormous hug from this father.
“Artemas!” said his father, through tears, “I am so happy to see you. You were gone so long, and there have been terrible things happening.”
“We heard that some people had been arrested,” replied Artemas. “Hermas’ family, for one.”
“Yes, they were the first. But there have been many.” He turned to Loukas. “I am sorry to say that your family have all been arrested.”
Loukas knew this moment would come, but his heart was heavy all the same.
“And Iounia?” he whispered.
Artemas’ father was silent for a moment. “She, too, I am sorry to say. They are in prison, to be tried soon. And the Romans have been asking for you, Loukas, by name. Is it because of the scroll? Do you still have it?”
Loukas clutched the travel-bag closely. “Yes, it is here. I need to put it somewhere safe.”
He thought for a few minutes; and then it came to him. There would be just enough room in the secret place in the wall at the side of his house. As children, he and Iounia had left messages for each other there. At the moment he had a scroll of Petros’ gospel[83] in a stone box. He could put Ioanneis’ scroll in that, perhaps even leave a note for Iounia. Yes, she would be sure to look there, if she knew that he had returned. Assuming she was released.
“I have to go,” said Loukas. “But first, do you have some parchment and a pen I can use?”
“I do.” Artemas’ father went over to a shelf and came back with what Loukas had requested. Then sitting cross-legged on the floor, Loukas wrote a letter to Iounia. When it was finished, he got up and went to leave.
“Be careful, Loukas,” said Artemas.
“Yes, may God go with you,” said Artemas’ father. He unbolted the door again and let Loukas out onto the street.
Carefully, Loukas went back to the main street and headed for home. Once he crested the hill and could see down the Street of Curetes he became even more wary. Was anyone watching the house? As he got closer it did not appear so. He stopped and stood underneath one of the statues that lined the Street. But he felt even more visible just standing there, so he decided to risk it. He walked quickly up to the house and headed to the side wall. It only took a few moments to loosen the brick and place it on the ground. Then, he reached into the dark space, grabbed the stone box and lifted it out. Carefully, he lifted the lid, removed the other scroll, and put Ioanneis’ scroll in its place. Then placing his letter to Iounia on top, he closed the lid and put the box back in the secret place.
He was just replacing the brick when he heard running feet coming up the Street. He stood up, placing the Petros scroll in his travel bag and went back to the front door of his house. It was then that he noticed that the door was ajar, looking as though it had been forced open. He went inside, and tried to shut the door again.
He could hear the footsteps getting closer, as he looked around at his house. It had been ransacked, as if someone had been looking for something. Did the Romans know about the scroll? It was a good thing he had hidden it when he had had the chance.
“Hello? Is there anyone there?” he called out softly. But there was no answer.
Then the door burst open, and a number of Roman soldiers pushed into the room. They grabbed Loukas, but he made no sign of resistance.
“Lucius! Or should I say Loukas. I have you at last!” It was Sergius Maximus. He had come in behind the soldiers, and now he came over to Loukas and looked him squarely in the eye. “My, but you have been causing trouble, unless I am very much mistaken. You and your scroll. You have it with you, I presume?”
Roughly, he grabbed the travel bag from Loukas’ shoulder, ripping it open.
“Ah yes, the scroll. You received it from a traitor on Patmos, and you have been spreading its foul teachings across the province. But I have it now. I can put a stop to this treason at last.”
Loukas remained silent. It seemed the best thing to do in the circumstances.
“Nothing to say?” asked Sergius Maximus. “Well, we’ll see about that later. Bring him. He can join with the rest of the atheists, those that refuse to acknowledge the gods of Rome.”
As he was led away, it took all of Loukas’ will-power not to look at the side wall with its secret hiding place.
”Well, where is it?”
It was the question on everyone’s mind, but Dima was the first to say anything. They had got off the train from St. Petersburg, straight onto the Metro, and had then walked the two blocks from the nearest Metro station to Nadezhda’s apartment. It was cramped, what with Dima, Natasha, Yevgeny and Marina squeezed around Nadezhda’s tiny kitchen table.
Dima’s grandmother smiled. “It isn’t here. Not yet. You’ll need to be patient. Who would like some tea while we wait?”
Everyone was happy to have some tea.
“What are we waiting for?” asked Natasha.
“Not ‘what’ but ‘who’,” replied Nadezhda, mischievously. “I found someone. At least, a friend of a friend who turned out to be the granddaughter of a friend of Nikolai’s.”
There was a buzz of excitement from all those sitting at the table. Nadezhda poured the tea, and continued.
“Yes, it turns out Nikolai never did get that parchment translated while he was on his travels. So when he got back home, he sought out an expert in ancient languages. He found a man named Victor and they became firm friends. I only learned about Victor and his friendship with Nikolai when I was recently chatting with a mutual friend. She remembered her friend talking about her grandfather and how he had had a well-travelled friend who had been a spy in the late 1880s. We put two and two together, and she introduced me to the granddaughter, a lovely old lady named Olga. We are waiting for her to arrive.”
They all turned to look in the direction of the front door. But there was no ring.
“That would have been perfect timing...” said Dima, sadly.
And then the doorbell rang.
“Oh, that was so close!”
Nadezhda went to open the front door. When Olga entered the room Dima and Natasha stood up to give her and Nadezhda a seat. Olga sat down, gratefully. She was in her seventies, and there was no lift in Nadezhda’s building, and Nadezhda’s apartment was on the fourth floor.
While she was recovering her breath, Nadezhda made the introductions. After they had exchanged pleasantries, and Olga had been poured a cup of tea, she spoke: “Well, I guess you are wanting to see this.”
She reached into her carry-bag, and drew out a glass picture frame that held a large piece of cardboard. Onto the cardboard they could see that a piece of yellowish parchment had been stuck. Clearly, it had been falling apart, since there were gaps between sections of the parchment. The writing, too, was very faint.
“This is it. It was passed down from my grandfather. My father had it mounted and framed ages ago, but when I heard from your grandmother that it probably came from Nikolai, I got it down for you to see.”
They all looked at it, careful not to spill any tea on it.
“But what does it say?” asked Marina. “Zhenya, can you read it?”
“Well, my Greek’s not what it was. And it really is very faint. I’m not sure I could read it, even if my Koinē Greek was fluent.”
“You don’t have to,” said Olga, happily. “You see my grandfather made a translation of it and we kept it in the picture frame all this time, too. It’s here.”
She pulled out a piece of old lined paper, with spidery Cyrillic letters on it. She passed it to Dima. He had a look, but struggled to read it.
“Here, Natasha, you have a go. You were always better at this than me.”
She took it carefully and spent some time examining it. Finally, she started reading:
“ ‘From Loukas,
“ ‘To my beloved Iounia,
“ ‘May the Lord Jesus Christ protect you by his mercy and grace. My heart aches to think of you in prison, but I can only hope that the authorities will soon let you go, for you are so young. Perhaps I will even see you soon. But when you are released, I know you will look in this our secret place for a message from me. Iounia, take this scroll to the leaders of the church in Galatia – that should be far enough away from the terrible claws of this beast from the land. The scroll will be safe, and so will you, my beloved. When I am released, I will check for the scroll here and then come to you there.
“ ‘Grace and peace be with you.
“ ‘Come, Lord Jesus, come.’ ”
There was silence for a while. Eventually, Dima spoke: “Well, it’s not from John.”
“I wonder who Loukas is?” asked Natasha.
“Whoever it is, he had the scroll,” replied Dima.
“And he wanted it kept safe from the authorities,” added Yevgeny.
“So presumably this Loukas person had hidden the scroll, left a note for someone called Iounia, hoping that she – I assume it was a ‘she’ – would find both and take the scroll away.”
“That sounds right.”
There was a long silence.
“But the scroll was still there. I wonder what happened to them?” Dima asked, sadly.
Sergius Maximus was sitting in his favourite spot in the Library. He was staring in the direction of Athena’s statue, but he was not really focused on it. His mind was wandering, thinking over the last few months.
Where did I go wrong? he thought, frowning.
With a slight shake of his head, he tried to force himself to concentrate on the papers in front of him, notes for an upcoming law court appearance. But it was no use. His eyes just glazed over of their own accord and he found himself once again staring into the middle distance.
He had no idea how much time had passed when there came the sound of someone gently clearing their throat. He looked up to see Crispus standing in front of him.
“Greetings, O Sergius Maximus. Please excuse this interruption.”
Sergius smiled briefly. “It is no bother,” he replied. “What is it?”
“Well...” Crispus paused, uncertainly. “I’m afraid the proconsul is asking for you.”
Sergius felt his heart lurch in his chest. Would this be the moment he had been dreading? The moment when his failure to stop the rebellion against the Emperors would receive its just penalty?
With a loud grunt, he ground his right fist into the open palm of his left hand.
“Oh, if only I had captured that scroll!” he exclaimed. “I thought I had it, that day when we arrested Lucius. But it wasn’t the right one.”
Crispus nodded. He had listened to Sergius raging about this before. He had also been present while Lucius had been illegally tortured, in an attempt to learn the whereabouts of the scroll. But to no avail. In the end, Lucius’ Roman citizenship had saved him from an ignominious death at Sergius’ hand.
“You did your best,” he said, in an attempt to encourage Sergius.
“Do you really think so?” replied Sergius, wearily. “I am not sure the proconsul shares your view...”
“But if Lucius remains silent, what more can you do?”
Sergius frowned deeply. “Perhaps you are right. I comfort myself with the knowledge that Lucius’ end is sealed, if he continues to refuse to offer worship to Domitianus.”
“May he reign forever[84],” said Crispus, after he realised Sergius was not going to say the words. Then, more quietly, he added, “Also assuming that you can get the proconsul to Ephesus to sign the death warrant...”
There was a further silence for a couple of minutes; Sergius had gone back to staring at Athena again.
“Now, about the proconsul?” asked Crispus, eventually.
“Oh yes,” said Sergius, getting to his feet. “The proconsul. Do you know what he wants?”
Crispus shook his head. “Not precisely, but there have been more reports of rebellion. The cities of Laodicea, Adramyttium, and Synnada have all sent in requests for the proconsul to visit so that they might execute those who have refused to participate in venerating the Exalted Ones.”
“But Lucius can’t have travelled to those cities, could he?” replied Sergius, with a start. “Adramyttium is north of here, and as far as I know Lucius went south. He couldn’t possibly have had the time to get there before his arrest in Ephesus.”
Crispus shrugged. “Perhaps there is more than one scroll?”
Sergius groaned. “By Athena, I pray that you are wrong. I couldn’t stop this rebellion when there was only one scroll! What hope if there are more than one?”
Slowly, he made his way to the doorway, with Crispus following. They left the Library complex and made their way up towards the top of the hill, where the proconsul’s palace was located. He was not sure what fate awaited him once he got there, but he would face it with honour and dignity.
And as for that scroll, it seemed it would not be silenced so easily...