‘And ill of the Torah,’ James says. ‘You compose epistles filled with thimblerigs, where you switch the peas before the eyes of fools to turn fraud into fact. We are not simpletons to be tricked by street swindlers, Saul. We know to watch the hand and not the cup.’
Paul’s lips move, but no words come; it is easy to be disdainful of James the Just from a distance, but his presence is a force like the Boreas wind. James’s face is drawn and dark.
‘So we have decided that you must publicly demonstrate that you recognize the Law of Moses,’ James says. ‘You will show these Gentiles who have come with you and the Jerusalemites that you submit to us and to the Torah. When you have completed a Nazirite Vow to prove that you remain a faithful Jew, only then will we accept your gift for the poor ones and we will rule on what the future holds.’
‘You know the process of the temporary Nazirite Vow, no doubt,’ Jochanan says. The beard surrounding the scar of his throat has gone badger-striped with white. ‘But perhaps I should refresh your memory, because it seems you have been prone to forgetting certain practices of late. You must make purifications to enter the Temple and also abstain from wine and other fermented drink for seven days. When the period of your dedication is over, you are to present sacrifices to God: an unblemished male lamb for a guilt offering, an unblemished ewe lamb for a sin offering, an unblemished ram for a fellowship offering, with grain, wine and bread offerings. You will present these at the Temple, before God and man. Then, in front of all, you must shave off your hair to symbolize your subservience to the Torah and put your hair into the fire of the sacrifice. Thereafter everyone will know there to be no truth in these reports about you, and that you are still submissive to the Law.’
‘But we will protect you through this,’ Cephas says, gesturing to the four gaunt younger men, who are with his group on the shaded side of the courtyard. ‘These comrades will take the Nazirite Vow with you. They will look after you and ensure that the purification rites are carried through correctly. Though you will, of course, have to pay their expenses, because the sacrifices mean no small cost.’
‘Do I have a choice in this?’ Paul asks.
‘God gives us free will. We always have choice,’ James says. ‘You could perhaps leave Jerusalem immediately and pray to outrun such deadly men as would most certainly pursue you.’
After they have retired from the meeting, Paul clarifies to his followers what has come to pass because they don’t speak Aramaic. He explains how he has come up with a course of action to soothe the situation, as hot sun calms the lion.
‘I have decided to perform a Nazirite Vow, as a balm on this fever of discord. To the Jews I become a Jew, to those subject to the Law of Moses as if I too am under that Law. God has made me all things to all men, the better to save some.’
‘So you did not explain to them how the Torah was only a temporary measure until the arrival of God’s Son, that all who rely on the Law are now under a curse, that salvation comes only through faith in Jesus Christ?’ asks a puzzled Trophimus.
‘Not precisely, no.’
Apart from its size and splendour and the fact it contains no statues, the Jerusalem Temple barely differs from any of the countless other temples that Paul has seen on his missionary journeys: people travel there to worship; the priests make sacrifices; the supplicant hopes their God has blessed them.
What separates Paul’s new sect is that he has come to believe and teach that Jesus was the perfect and final sacrifice. That no more sacrifices are needed. Yahweh sent His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh to be a sin offering. Jesus is the Lamb of God, the final atonement before the imminent reign of God on earth, when the righteous dead will rise from the grave and the saved among the living will have their lowly bodies moulded into a new and glorious form.
But that being so, Paul has no particular problem with the strictures of the Nazirite Vow that he has undertaken to complete. Aside from an uncomfortable lump of undigested pride in his stomach, the act is simply meaningless to him.
So he descends into the purifying mikveh bath, as do the four long-haired acolytes of James. Men who are cordial but cold. It is hard to say if they are to protect Paul or to curtail him. They remain so close by that their shadows blend with Paul’s, but he is unwilling to trust his safety to them. He has Timothy take the rites of purification too, so that he can enter the inner sanctums of the Temple.
And as far as possible, during the seven days of the dedication, Paul keeps the rest of his disciples about him as well. A fish school of protection, in the centre of which Silas guards his master, like the pupil of his eye.
The Temple is the point of greatest danger. The Israelites are always fired up when so close to God. Which is why the Romans watch its courts from the towers of the Antonia Fortress and why, in recent years, fearing revolutionary activity on the part of the festival crowds, the prefect has even taken to stationing a company of soldiers at armed alert by the very entrance porticoes. To remind those Jews mounting the great stone steps that insurrection may be quelled with spears.
But Paul takes comfort from seeing the legionaries there, as he passes through the double gates with the four Nazirites and his retinue of followers. Paul himself wrote: Let every person be subject to the governing authorities … the authorities do not bear the sword in vain. They are servants of God to execute wrath on the wrongdoer. So Paul has no fear of these troopers’ blades; in fact, he steals the eye of Mnason and shares a nod, to emphasize the soldiers’ presence. Because Mnason knows the ways of Rome well, having served the Cyprus governor. And Mnason has some specific instructions to follow in the case of calamity.
Past the porticoes, the party enters into the great bazaar of the first court, filled with bleating beasts and sweating traders, crying repeated words about their wares so fast and so frequently that they become almost an unintelligible stream, like speaking in tongues. Money-changers and pedlars ply and, occasionally, priests glide by amid the pilgrims and peasant farmers carrying reed-tied sheaves of wheat as offerings. And Paul sees also the short grey tunics of Temple Guards, a uniform he knows well.
Paul is beyond certain that the world has altered utterly — the Christ’s sacrifice and Paul’s revelations have transformed everything — and yet to be here, you could almost believe that it all remained the same.
There is still the waist-high wall, which separates this area from the holier courtyards of the Mount and the Temple itself. The decorative palisade has many unguarded entrances — it is purely symbolic, easily crossed — but the fate of transgressors is made clear by numerous notices in every language: No Gentile is to enter beyond the balustrade into the forecourt around the Sanctuary. Whoever is caught will have himself to blame for his subsequent death.
So Paul cannot take his formation of followers with him as he passes through with the four Nazirites; only Timothy accompanies him. The others wait outside, as instructed, as close to Paul as the wall allows, alert for his return. A large group, but not so incongruous in this vast open courtyard, filled with strangers and wayfarers drawn from every cranny country of the earth.
But as Paul passes back through the barrier to rejoin his companions, there is a man he identifies, hazily, as at the frayed edge of a dream; a man from Asia, from Ephesus. Is he a follower of The Way or just a Jew from Ephesus? Paul can’t remember.
But the man clearly remembers Paul, because he shouts in anger, ‘Men of Israel, help! This is the fellow who preaches everywhere against our people, the Law of Moses, and this edifice. More than that: see how he has just brought a Gentile into the inner Temple and desecrated this Holy Place.’