John's Story Read Free

to report blasphemy.”
    “I will proclaim my loyalties tonight for all to hear,” John said.
    The guard shook his head. “Then I will not see you on the morrow.”
    “Probably you will not. But you have already expressed your glee at the executions of Christians. My absence should cause you no concern.”
    John found the bread hard and stale and the water brackish. He crunched the kernels gingerly with fragile teeth, then sopped the bread in the water, ignoring the creatures. This is merely fuel, he told himself, for what I must endure. His enjoyment of a meal as repast was over.
    John slid the platter back out of his cell, and the guard gathered it up and sniffed the cup. “That cannot have been good for you,” he said. “Listen, you can at least delay your fate by denying their charges. Make them bring witnesses. That would take time, unless you have spread this heresy close by here in Rome.”
    “Tonight such will be my privilege.”
    “Then there will be no trial. If you confess your offenses, there is no need.”
    “I plan to proudly confess.”
    “You do not protest your guilt?”
    “I proclaim my freedom.”
    “You will never be free again.”
    “I will never be freer than when I meet again my Lord Christ.”
    The guard shook his head and moved away. “You Jews…”
    Knowing his fate and eager to exploit it for the cause, John stretched prostrate on the dirt floor, fatigue washing over him as he silently prayed for his brothers and sisters in Christ all over the world. His aim had been more than to merely gain converts; it had been also to produce others like himself so the truth might go forth regardless what became of him. If only the younger men—those like Polycarp, who so ably assisted him in Ephesus and on his many journeys, and Ignatius, the bold bishop at Antioch who regularly risked his own life by thumbing his nose at the threats of the emperor—would be even further emboldened by John’s demise, imagine what could come of it. John had long fought pride when others credited him with the wide expansion of the church in Asia. It was the work of Christ, he knew, and yet the Lord worked through His people. If John’s death would cause others to rise up, he would run to his demise.

     

    L ATE IN THE DAY John roused to the sound of thousands of spectators filling the Colosseum. He stood to watch as the vast crowd exulted at several acts commencing simultaneously. The muscled women wrestled each other while the dwarves frolicked just beyond the reach of the tethered animals. Jesters preened and danced and mimed as the crowd laughed. But the greatest outbursts were reserved for the mayhem that ensued whenever something went wrong. Or did it only appear that way? Clearly someone intentionally prodded the ferocious beasts and freed them before the players could escape.
    “The animals were fed less than you were,” the guard said, his face lit with excitement.
    “But the performers,” John said, “why is this their fate?”
    “They have been told that if they amuse the crowd, they will be spared. But it is their lot to entertain this way.”
    “To be ripped apart?”
    “If they escape, they are free and their misdeeds forgiven.”
    “Misdeeds earned them this?”
    “If their offenses were more severe, they would have no chance at escape,” the guard said. “The criminals come next.”
    “There’s more?”
    The guard nodded. “And their only hope is to kill all the animals.”
    “That’s not possible! Lions and elephants?”
    “Watch.”
    “I choose not to.”
    John’s hunger returned and he considered asking the guard to see about even a small piece of fruit. But a roar caught his attention, and before he could turn away he saw a diminutive man torn to pieces, and his appetite was gone. He was left to await his own fate on an empty stomach.
    By the end of the carnage, the infield was pooled with blood, and slaves spread sawdust to sop it. The sun was setting as the spectators