Man in White by Johnny Cash

Author:Johnny Cash
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 1986-10-10T00:00:00+00:00

FOUR

THE ILLUMINATION

Saul looked straight ahead at the approaching city of Damascus. His body was weary, but with his destination in sight he was anxious to conclude his journey and rest. He was in desperate need of sleep. The house of Judas the Pharisee would provide a comforting refuge from the long, weary road. And he hoped the hospitality of Judas would help ease his troubled mind. Perhaps Judas would give him encouragement. Fears and doubts had plagued him for the last six days and nights.

Damascus was a big city and a strange city. Even armed with his letter from the high priest, he felt ill at ease. If he felt no sense of triumph in his accomplishments in Jerusalem, would this be any different? The purging of the Nazarenes in the City of God had brought him no real satisfaction. No one had offered support, no one except the Roman soldiers. They had been hard on the prisoners because they knew no one would care how cruelly they treated Jews condemned by their own people. He regretted the suffering of his victims at the hands of the Romans. Perhaps it would be better in Damascus. No Roman soldiers accompanied him. But the treatment of his captives in the Syrian prisons would probably be just the same. The Damascus stockade was infamous for its cruel treatment of the prisoners.

I must not let my mind dwell upon these things, he thought. He had forced himself to suppress his doubts and fears every evening as he and his companions had stopped at inns to sleep. But sleep was always slow in coming. Then the dream. Every night the dream, the same dream. The face of Stephen in a blissful smile. The people calling to him, crying out to him. Nightly now he also dreamed of the man in the warehouse who had said, “May you come to know the Lord Jesus, Brother Saul.” The man wore the countenance of Stephen. It didn’t matter who he saw, the dream—the joyous expression—was always there.

There was a strange love in these faces. A radiant love when they had died in torture. They looked at him as if they loved him. Why? Why did they love him? He didn’t love them. He hated everything they were doing to the true religion of his fathers. But did he hate them personally? He thought so. He couldn’t be sure. But he knew he didn’t love them, he told himself.

Was that love from God? If it was real love, it must be. All goodness is of God. God is all goodness. But these people were an affront to God, opposing God. Still . . . love? Their apparent expression of love lingered until their last breath. Was God trying to tell him something through these people? Should he abandon his mission? How many would die in Damascus in the fulfillment of his task? The thought of the dying men, women, and children overwhelmed him, and he was almost sick to his stomach, but he came to his senses.

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