Читать книгу The Silver Chalice - Thomas B. Costain - Страница 24

Joseph offered the Cup to Luke, and the latter, with tears streaming down his face, took it into his hands. “I have wondered so often,” he said, “into whose keeping it had fallen. Or if it had been lost.”

He offered it in turn to Paul, but the latter, instead of accepting it, went down on his knees.

“The bitterest blow that life has dealt me,” said the great apostle, “is that I did not see Jesus. I have studied His words. I have sought earnestly to learn everything that is known about Him. I heard His voice on the road to Damascus. But I did not see Him.” He reached out his hand and with the tips of his fingers touched the rim of the Cup. “It was here,” he whispered, “that the lips of Jesus were pressed.”

Nothing more was said for several moments. They remained in rapt silence about this most sacred of relics. Luke, Joseph, and Deborra were weeping without restraint. Although he did not allow his emotions to show to an equal extent, Paul’s intent gaze never left the sacred Cup, and Basil could see that his hands were trembling.

Standing back of them, Basil watched this demonstration of faith with surprise. “Truly,” he thought, “they are strange people. They must have loved this Jesus very much to be so overcome.” His eyes turned most often to Paul, for he was already feeling himself drawn to that intense and masterful man. As usual he had brought a supply of wax with him, and his fingers set themselves to work on an impression of the unusual features of the apostle of the Gentiles.

It was Paul who first shook himself free of the spell. He asked Joseph, “What is it you propose to do?”

“A suitable frame must be designed for it,” said Joseph. “I think it should be of openwork so the Cup will show through; perhaps a scroll of leaves around the figures of Jesus and those who were closest to him.”

Paul nodded in approval. “This Cup will be kept until the day when Jehovah comes in His glory,” he said. “The frame must be of the finest workmanship and each figure must be so true to the original that those who live after us will know how Jesus looked, and each of his followers. It may become the chief symbol of the Christian faith.” He was speaking in natural tones now and, characteristically, had taken the problem into his own hands. “Yes, first of all, we must be sure that a beautiful receptacle is made. Then we shall have to decide where it is to be kept.” He was frowning thoughtfully, “In another generation it may be that all men will believe in Jesus. If this comes about, it would be natural to have the Cup of the Last Supper in the Temple itself.”

“No, no!” cried Joseph in an instinctive dissent. “It must always be possible for Gentiles to see it, and they must never be allowed within the Temple.”

Paul shook his head at him with a wry expression. “Even thou, O Joseph of Arimathea,” he said. “Why do I permit myself to be surprised when men refuse to turn from old beliefs? Even my good and enlightened friend here has not yet shaken off all of the traditions which prevail in this—yes, I must say it—this city where faith still gropes in the dark.” He brushed aside the point with another frown and his manner changed, becoming incisive and direct. “Have you considered which of the followers of Christ are to be included in the group?”

“Is it not necessary to include those to whom the Cup was passed at the Last Supper?”

“That is not necessary.” Paul’s face flamed then with passionate disapproval. “Judas?” he cried. “Would you include the betrayer of Jesus?”

“No, not Judas,” said Joseph hastily. “I confess to you, Paul, that I have given this point little thought.”

“Since Judas is not to be included,” declared Paul, “we find ourselves compelled to consider a plan of selection. Must we include all the others? Must we pretend and evade and refuse to speak our minds about a matter as vital as this? When the record of these days has been written and the new books have been compiled and made into a new testament, what names will be most familiar to the future generations who read it? I will tell you, Joseph of Arimathea—Matthew, Mark, Luke——”

“I?” cried Luke. “No, no! I am one of the least. I am a follower, not a leader. I, truly, am a nonentity. The power has not been given me.”

Paul brushed his remonstrances aside. “The noble story you have written of the days of Jesus on this earth will win more followers in years to come than the gift of tongues. What you are preparing now on the preaching of the gospel will be the basis for all history of the Christian church. My modest friend, the name of Luke will resound down the ages; and the face of Luke should be among those chosen for the silver Chalice.”

It was clear that Joseph did not agree with this method of selection, but he was allowed no opportunity to express himself. Paul proceeded briskly with the discussion. “Peter, of course. That stout soul must be the first. And John, the beloved disciple. James, the son of Zebedee, and James, the kinsman of Christ. Andrew, I feel, should be included. He brought Peter to the faith and he died most bravely on the cross himself.”

“Philip?” hazarded Joseph. Having relinquished control, he now seemed content to make suggestions.

Paul frowned in absorbed thought. “We must have either Philip or Jude. They are equally active in the home church.” He reached a reluctant conclusion. “Jude, it must be. He sits here in Jerusalem beside the kinsman of Christ. That I name him must make it clear to you, Joseph, that I strive to be impartial. Philip has a place in my heart, but he is at Caesarea and he is a very old man.”

As Paul had detected by this time that Basil’s fingers were at work, he reached out and took the wax into his own hands. His approval was conveyed quickly by a nod of the head.

“You have caught something of me. But there are faults. The brow is too high. My enemies—and I have many—say that my lack of true intellectuality shows in the low elevation of my forehead. They may be right. I realize that I am unimpressive to the eye.” He turned then in Joseph’s direction. “Tomorrow, as I have already told you, I will be received by James and Jude in the presence of the presbyters of Jerusalem. It will be advisable for our young artist to be present so that he may begin work at once.”

“I shall have it arranged for him to have a good seat.”

“And now,” went on Paul briskly, “he will find Matthew and Mark in Antioch. John is at Ephesus, and he above all must be seen. John is so different from the rest that no description would convey any idea of him. The hand of Jehovah has touched him, and he is filled with visions of the strange things which will come to pass. He must be visited at once. Peter, that sweet and violent man, is in Rome. I fear that the hands of the executioner hover above him, for Peter speaks out as though he deliberately courts martyrdom. It will be wise for this young man to go to Rome as soon as possible—if he is to find that lion-like head still carried on mortal shoulders.”

“I am willing to go,” declared Basil. His heart was thumping with excitement, and to himself he was saying, “How willing I am to go! I would start for Rome within the hour.”

Paul’s manner changed, completely and abruptly. For several moments he had nothing to say. His fingers toyed with the tephillah attached to his brow and the leather strap which bound it to the back of his head. In a musing voice he quoted a phrase from the texts on the parchment inside the leather case, “ ‘And it shall be for a token upon thine hand. . .’

“It is not only in the case of Peter that there is need for haste,” he said finally. “The end draws on for me. At each place where I stopped on my way here I bade my friends farewell, knowing I would see none of them again. Soon now the wings will brush my shoulder. Agabus knew it at once. He came to see me when I was with Philip at Caesarea and he called for my girdle. When I took it off and gave it to him, he bound his own hands and feet with it and said, ‘So shall the Jews at Jerusalem bind the man that owneth this girdle, and shall deliver him into the hands of the Gentiles.’ He meant I would be delivered to the Romans.” Paul sighed wearily, as though the road which would end in this way had been a long and hard one. “It will be here in Jerusalem that the Jews will bind me and hand me to the Romans. There are few days of freedom left me; and so, if I am to appear on the Chalice, I must be done first of all.” His eyes had lost their fire and seemed still and cold. “Let your fingers be diligent, then, for this may be your last chance.”