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Acts: The Rest of the Story

Last week the book of Acts came to an end. Paul remained in Rome welcoming visitors "for two years . . . in his own rented house. . . . Boldly and without hindrance he preached the kingdom of God and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ" (Acts 28:30-31) . . . while he waited to be called for trial by Caesar.

What happened in Paul’s trial . . . and what finally happened to Paul? The truth is: we don’t know! We are pretty sure Paul was released by Caesar Nero . . . probably for the reasons discussed last week: Nero didn’t want to waste his time arbitrating a Jewish religious dispute in which the plaintiffs didn’t show up to participate in the trial!

So Paul is free again . . . the year is probably 62 AD. What does he do? Take some more mission trips, of course . . . but where? No one really knows. John Foxe claims he went to Spain . . . and also France and Greece. His letter to Titus suggests he went to Crete (Ti 1:5); and his 2^nd letter to Timothy, suggests Troas (2 Tim 4:13). But there’s no contemporaneous record of his 4^th missionary journey; Luke went home to write.

Back in Israel . . . Governor Festus dies in 62 AD, and is replaced by Lucceius Albinus . . . but in 64 Nero replaces him with Gessius Florus. Except for Festus, we are forced to stretch superlatives to find adjectives to describe these Roman Governors: evil, eviler, evilest, more evilest, most evilest. In 63 AD, the building of the temple was finally completed, throwing lots of people out of work. The Jews feel poor and oppressed by Rome. Guerilla bands attack the Romans, and in turn are brutally suppressed.

Tragedy strikes on July 19, 64 AD, when a massive fire breaks out in Rome. Nero was out of town, but the Roman historian Tacitus claims Nero was behind the fire because the Roman Senate opposed a new building program he wanted to undertake. Flames raged for six days before coming under control; then reignited and burned for another three days. When the smoke clears, ten of Rome's fourteen districts are in ruin. Nero blames the fire on Christians. We don’t know why he chose Christians as the scapegoat . . . but he indiscriminately and mercilessly crucifies them. He feeds Christians to hungry lions during gladiator matches, and uses them as human torches to light his garden parties.

According to church tradition, Peter is the first major victim of Nero’s persecution. There is no detail about how Peter came to Rome, but an early pope (Clement) claims Peter was the 1^st bishop of Rome—which is the Pope. (That’s the basis of the doctrine of papal supremacy over other patriarchs of the early church.) Peter is not mentioned in Acts 28, so if he came to Rome, it would have been after Paul left in 62 AD . . . but it’s possible he came there to continue the ministry begun by Paul.

If this is correct, Peter was in Rome when the city burned . . . and would have been one of the first to learn Nero blamed Christians and planned to persecute them. God had helped Peter escape death at the hands of Herod Agrippa I some 20 years earlier, and Peter seems to think God feels the same way this time . . . but he is wrong.

According to the "Quo Vadis" legend, Peter fled Rome in a hurry . . . going south on the Appian Way. Scarcely out of the city—in the middle of a very dark night—he encounters Jesus, walking toward Rome. To say Peter was "surprised" would be an understatement. Recovering his composure, Peter says, in Latin: "Domine, quo vadis?" . . . usually translated: "Lord, whither goest thou?" Why Peter would speak Latin to Jesus is a mystery . . . but Jesus responds—probably in Aramaic—"I go to Rome, to be crucified again." Peter had a reputation of being slow to understand Jesus’ subtle remarks . . . but he doesn’t miss this rebuke! Peter returns to Rome. The legend is that Jesus left his footprints where he met Peter . . . and these footprints are in the small "Quo Vadis" chapel along the Appian Way. Back in Rome, Peter provides a personal "Profile in Courage" as he is captured and crucified, as a proud follower of Jesus. But perhaps stung by Jesus’ rebuke, he insists he is not worthy to die like Jesus, and asks to be crucified upside down. Traditionally, this occurs at the spot where the Vatican stands today.

Back in Jerusalem . . . James, the brother of Jesus and leader of the church, was another early victim of Nero’s persecution. Eusebius tells the story, writing more than 200 years later, but quoting a source 100 years earlier whose writings have all disappeared. He says the Jewish leaders focussed on James when Paul slipped out of their grasp. They would probably have had a hard time accusing James of violating Jewish law—as they did with Paul—but once Nero’s persecution of Christians began, they apparently feel free to attack him for being a Christian. James often prayed in the temple, and was easily captured there. It appears from the account that James is brought before the Sanhedrin in the temple, with a crowd of onlookers—as was the case with Stephen. James is questioned by Pharisees and experts in Jewish law, and called upon to deny Jesus. Yet James not only refuses, he witnesses for Jesus. He converts some in the crowd, but is found guilty of blasphemy, and a sentence of death carried out immediately. The Jews can’t murder James in the temple . . . so they throw him out over a parapet, stone him on the ground below, and club him to death. His last words echo some of the last words of his brother Jesus: "Forgive them; they do not know what they are doing." Eusibius says he was buried where he fell . . . but it seems more likely Jewish burial customs were followed (as was done with Jesus), and his bones would have ended up in an ossuary.

Another tradition is that the Christians of Jerusalem fled to Pella, a city of the Decapolis, to escape James’ fate. That tradition is disputed . . . and it seems unlikely to me because, as we learned from Acts, the leadership of the Jerusalem church was dominated by Pharisee-Christians who continued to follow Jewish traditions and expected others to do the same. They would rather die than live in an evil Greek city like Pella; there must be a Jewish city somewhere they could escape to . . .

In Caesarea, Gessius Florus seems to be trying to prove he is the most dishonest and brutal of the Roman governors. In 66AD a Jewish revolt breaks out. Josephus claims Florus wanted this revolt, because it would overshadow a Jewish delegation sent to Rome to complain of his brutality. Israel was a tinderbox waiting a spark to ignite revolt, and that spark came when Florus looted the temple treasury—claiming it was at the request of Nero. Then when the Gentiles of Caesarea were given elevated status over the Jews of the city, riots broke out in Caesarea . . . then Jerusalem. These were brutally suppressed.

A Jew named Menahem of Gamla—grandson of Judas of Gamla, who led the revolt of 6 AD—overthrew the Roman fortress of Masada with a band of Jewish rebels. They helped themselves to Roman weapons and shields . . . then surprised and defeated the Roman garrison in Jerusalem. They found Ananias the high priest—who slapped Paul and vigorously pursued his prosecution—hiding in an aqueduct and eagerly killed him.

Various skirmishes occur . . . and some massacres—both of Jews and of Gentiles. Menahem and his rebels withdraw to Masada, and use it as a base for guerilla attacks. Governor Florus is killed in the process; Governor Cestius of Syria launches an attack on Jerusalem, but is repulsed by Jewish forces. But even with this victory, wise Jews realize Rome is too powerful an opponent and want to sue for peace; King Herod Agrippa II tries to bring the two sides together. But it is not to be. And even though it is absurd for the Jews to think they can defeat Rome—even unified—they fight among themselves . . . a problem that continues through to the end of the war.

The Roman practice was to ensure victory by sending an overwhelming force. And that’s what Nero does by sending Vespasian and his son Titus to suppress this revolt. The army is assembled—both Roman soldiers and troops provided by King Herod Agrippa II—and marches on Galilee in 67AD. The Jewish general defending Galilee is Josephus . . . a reluctant warrior who knows he is going to lose. After a 1½ month siege, the Romans overrun the city of Jotapata. Josephus wants to surrender, but his companions are defiant and want to commit suicide. With luck and a silver tongue, Josephus joins a suicide pact with his companions . . . but in the end, Josephus and one other are the only ones left alive, and the two of them surrender. Josephus convinces Vespasian he is a prophet, and prophesies he will be the next emperor. This ensures Josephus’ safety . . . which is a good thing, because we Christians are indebted to him for writing a secular history of the times of Jesus and the early church, which corroborates much of the New Testament.

Vespasian systematically eliminates the Jewish rebels. Then he approaches Menahem’s home of Gamla on the Golan Heights . . . built on a steep hillside. The battle is incredibly bloody—on both sides—and ends when the defenders are driven to the citadel: a steep precipice at the end of the city. 4000 Jews are killed by the Romans, and 5000 jump over the precipice to their deaths. Gamla is an Israeli "Remember the Alamo" place, containing Judaism’s oldest synagogue. Back in Jerusalem, the Jewish rebel factions fight one another. A group calling itself Zealots occupies the temple and names a new high priest. This so enrages the other Jews that civil war breaks out.

Vespasian cleans up Galilee by the end of 67 AD, but rather than attack Jerusalem, he decides to wait . . . to let the Jews destroy themselves, rather than worry they might unite against a common enemy. Beginning in the spring of 68 AD, Vespasian pacifies the countryside: Perea east of the Jordan . . . Jericho . . . Samaria. By June 68, Vespasian is ready to move on Jerusalem.

Meanwhile, Paul has continued to develop churches and Christians . . . yet avoid Nero. Church tradition claims he kept on the move: to Spain and/or France . . . to Crete (Ti 1:5) . . . to some of the churches he founded. He probably wrote Titus and 1 Timothy while visiting Philippi. Finally he was captured—probably in Troas (2 Tim 4:13)—and taken to Rome in chains a second time. But there’s a difference now: being a Christian is a Roman crime. Paul as a Roman citizen still has special rights . . . but these are mostly the right to a trial and to humane execution. Paul writes his last letter to Timothy from a Roman dungeon; then he is tried and condemned to die around 67-68 AD. He is taken outside the city walls, where he is beheaded with a sword . . . traditionally where the St. Paul’s Outside-the-Walls cathedral stands today. He outlived Ananias . . . and almost Nero.

Because in June 68, Nero commits suicide. The Roman bureaucracy was like any other: when the leader is gone, people are afraid to do anything a new leader might criticize. As strong as the Romans are—and as weak as the Jewish defenders have become—Jerusalem is a very strong fortress. Vespasian returns to Caesarea . . . and waits. Many farsighted Jews decided this was a good time to leave the city . . . and indeed, it was the last opportunity for them to do so in relative safety. Jesus had warned to "flee to the mountains" at a time like this (Matt 24:16) . . . but the Jewish rebels used this time to fight one another; large stores of food—enough to withstand a long siege—were burned.

There was similar unrest back Rome. The first new emperor was assassinated, and two others seeking the crown fought a civil war. In July 69 Vespasian was proclaimed emperor by his troops, and he went to Rome to fight for his crown. In December he was victorious . . . and as a "thank you" to the man who prophesied this day, he freed Josephus and granted him Roman citizenship.

Now is the time to finish off Jerusalem . . . and for this, Vespasian turns to his son Titus. As Titus sets up for a siege of Jerusalem, the Jewish factions skirmish with the Romans . . . but also with each other, including the Passover celebration, April 14, 70, when many outside Jews come to the temple for this mandatory Jewish feast.

I’m not going to go into the details of Titus’ conquest of Jerusalem; it’s found in Josephus. But I want to emphasize that the burning of stored food earlier caused a famine that should have been unnecessary . . . and that even as the Roman troops gradually broke down the city walls, the defenders fought among themselves . . . killing one another for food. Deserters were killed both by those within and those without; Josephus reports 500 Jews/day were crucified during the worst part of the siege—so many that the Romans ran out of crosses—and 2000/day were disemboweled to search for gold they might have swallowed. It’s an interesting snapshot of the horrors of ancient siege warfare!

Titus wants to spare the Jewish temple, but the rebels are using it as a fortress. He burns the gates to get into the courtyard . . . and when rebels attack Roman soldiers trying to put out the fires, things get out of hand. The temple burns to the ground; Josephus claims it was on the same day—August 10—the Babylonians burned Solomon’s temple in 586 BC, 655 years earlier. It was just as Jesus prophesied: "Not one stone (of the temple) will be left on another; every one will be thrown down" (Acts 24:2). Today many stones lay in the valley below temple mount just where they fell over 1930 years ago.

Titus overcame and burned the rest of the city, leaving only three defensive towers—one of which still stands today. Josephus claims 1,100,000 perished during the siege—most of who came to Jerusalem for Passover. Survivors over 17 years old were sent to the arena as gladiators or sent to the mines of Egypt; those under 17 were sold as slaves.

Menahem and his rebels are still in the fortress of Masada . . . which seems impregnable. But the Romans build an incredibly high siege ramp, and in 74 AD they break through. However, the Jewish defenders commit suicide rather than become Roman captives. Today young Jews go to Masada be inducted into the Israeli army . . . and the synagogue—2^nd oldest in Judaism—is a popular place for Bar Mitzvahs.

Titus returns to Rome in triumph . . . and to this day the massive Arch of Titus stands to commemorate his victory. Inside the arch is a relief showing Titus’ soldiers carrying booty from the temple . . . and sending Jewish survivors into slavery. To add insult to injury, the coinage used in Israel began to bear the slogan "Judea Capta"—Judea Captured—and a relief of a Roman soldier with his foot on the head of a Jewish rebel, while a Jewish woman cried beneath a palm tree.

The Sadducees were all killed in the conquest of Jerusalem; they are never heard from again. But the Pharisees—more dispersed throughout Israel and the world—lived on. They set up shop in Jamnia, and continued to define a gospel of Jewish legalism . . . without the temple. Around 200 AD they wrote the oral law in a document now called the Mishnah, which is part of the modern Talmud.

All this sounds so morbid . . . but I don’t want to end on a morbid note. With regard to Judaism, someone has said Titus was "greatest religious reformer in history" . . . and let’s look at what he accomplished. By destroying the temple, he removed all opportunity to practice the Jewish religion as it existed at the time. Because there was no temple, there could be no sacrifices in the temple . . . there was no reason to travel to Jerusalem to celebrate Jewish feasts in the temple. The focus of the Jewish religion shifted to the local synagogues; the modern Seder developed as a means to celebrate Passover . . . and, of course, the Seder ends with the words: "Next year, in Jerusalem." Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, became personalized rather than corporate. Interestingly, it can be argued that these were the kind of reforms preached by Jesus . . . even though the Jews have never accepted Jesus as Messiah.

Personally, I can’t help but go back to the ending of Peter’s speech at Pentecost:

A generation—as defined by the Jews—was 40 years. If the death of Jesus occurred in 30 AD, the destruction of the temple occurred 40 years later: one generation. One can’t help but wonder about the symbolism . . . if the Jews were given a "grace period" of one generation to transfer their allegiance from the temple to Jesus the Messiah . . . and after that, the temple was destroyed, and the "old time religion" became impossible.

The greatest beneficiaries were the Christians. We really don’t know what happened to the Jerusalem church, but the destruction of the temple freed Jewish Christians from the legalism and temple-focus that characterized the Jerusalem church. Now the church was free to grow along the lines Paul preached: salvation through faith in Jesus, apart from observing the oral law (Acts 13:38-39). And grow it did . . . despite sometimes-intense persecution that sent Christians to die in gladiator rings. Then in 312 AD, Constantine was inspired in a dream to put the sign of the cross of Jesus on the uniform of his Roman troops. He won a great victory at the Milvian Bridge outside Rome, became the 1^st Christian emperor, and made Christianity the official religion of the Roman Empire.