11 - Across the Mountains

Unlike Barnabas, who could accept all things from Paul, even the formal changing of his name, young John Mark struggled to accept Paul as the leader of the deputation. He knew that the elders in Jerusalem had not given Saul any authority. They’d sent him to Antioch to strengthen the faithful, and here he was on a mission to the Gentiles. It was true that Simon Peter, to whom John looked for guidance, had made certain concessions, but Simon regarded his mission to the Jews as primary, and his mission to the Gentiles as secondary. But Saul, or Paul, or whatever he wanted to call himself was going to Gentile cities, where few Jews were to be found. But what disturbed him even more was that Paul tended to speak more about Messiah than he did about the God of Israel. But Messiah was only God’s servant, who had come to reveal God’s will. The most important thing was belief in the one living God.

John had no doubt about his Uncle Barnabas’ piety and had no problem accepting his leadership. But as soon as Paul assumed that role, John began to show opposition. In Perga, Paul made the decision not to go to the house of Israel in the great cities of Syria and Asia, but to venture instead to remote places in the hills of Phrygia and Galatia, where only tiny settlements of Jews were to be found.

John spoke out, “Why should we take the gospel so far away, on the dangerous road of the Gentiles, when the house of Israel is so thirsty for it, and is closer as well.”

“The easier road we leave for others,” answered Paul. “I’ve chosen the harder one.”

“The disciples in Jerusalem didn’t send us to Galatia. They sent us to Antioch to teach. They gave us no authority for any other work.”

Deeply troubled, Barnabas cried out, “John! How can you speak so in the presence of one whom God Himself conferred with authority? Didn’t you see with your own eyes the miracle done through him in Cyprus?”

“My rabbis have taught me to look for no miracles where the cause of God is concerned. I have nothing in my hand except the authority given me by my rabbis in Jerusalem,” answered the young man, abruptly.

So John left and returned to Jerusalem, but Barnabas, who had faith in Paul, stayed.


It wasn’t enough, it seemed, that John abandoned them, for another trial soon came. While they were in Perga, Paul fell sick with malaria. A fiery circle clamped around his head, while his bones were filled with ice, so that his blood was stabbed with alternating pangs of heat and cold. It was as if God were seeking to humble Paul, lest the pride of his heart be awakened by his triumph in Cyprus. Barnabas tended him lovingly, as a son tends his father. He sat with him night and day, applied oils to his body, and gave him warm wine to drink, until Paul’s strength returned. As soon as he was able to stand without his knees buckling, he insisted on taking the journey into the hills, by the path leading to Antioch in Pisidia.


From the sea town of Perga to the city of Pisidian Antioch was a journey of some five or six days. That is, if one survived the journey at all. The road was extremely dangerous. Robber bands lived in the mountain caves by the side of the road, and all the efforts of the government to clear them out had had no effect. Merchants never traveled except in groups and with armed guards. But Paul and Barnabas traveled alone. Moreover, faithful to Paul’s resolution never to become a burden on the communities he visited, they borrowed no provisions in Perga and didn’t even take a donkey with them to carry their baggage. Not that there was much to carry. They had their mantles, a change of linen, a few manuscripts, and a day’s supply of food. Barnabas loaded this on his own shoulders. Paul was still too weak, and could only walk with a staff. Thus the two messengers began their ascent.

At first the journey had a good effect on Paul’s health. The light, fresh wind blowing down from the forests of cypress and laurel slowly extinguished the fire still flickering in his head. It was early summer, between Passover and Pentecost. On the road upward they saw countless oleanders with their delicate rose blossoms. Wild pomegranates grew in the forests, peeping out from among the heavy foliage of the bushes. The soft earth was covered with flowers and herbs, such as jasmine and violet. The air was sleepy with the buzzing of bees and the murmuring of insects, and there were many birds in the branches of the cypresses and laurels. The sound of rushing spring water came from hidden places in the forests, a delight to the spirit. All this had a healing effect on the sick man.

They also passed many houses of dried clay, roofed over with branches, nestled among the trees, and men and women and domestic animals loitered about them. Cows grazed in tiny clearings, and herds of goats clambered wildly up the impossible crags. Sometimes the travelers were refreshed by the sight of a flock of sheep feeding in a green hollow. This was home soil for Paul, for this was the hill country rolling from the shoulders of Mount Taurus by Tarsus.


As they continued the ascent, a change came over the landscape. There were no more blossoms. There were no delicious odors, beautiful sights, or refreshing sounds here. Instead they saw crippled trees whose branches had been combed out by an iron wind. Here and there an iris clung with its last energies, or a lonely laurel dug its roots into the ground like nails, and held out in the struggle against the wind. No houses looked out cheerfully from among the trees. Instead, they became more and more aware of the grim front of the mountain rocks. Here and there they saw a water channel, but the water was gone, or almost gone, and there were just cascades of stones.

On the fourth day they came to such a channel. It was evening, and since they were a long way from the nearest settlement, they decided to spend the night there by the water’s edge. They scraped up a little water from between the stones to wash their hands and feet, so they could say the evening Shema. Afterwards they washed their hands again, and ate a few mouthfuls of dried figs and bread, washing it down with water. Within the shelter of the channel they found a softer place and lay down. They talked of Christ and his mission, which had brought them to this remote place, until sleep overcame them.

In the middle of the night, Barnabas was awakened by something that sounded like a distant waterfall. He knew he hadn’t heard one when they went to sleep, so as the sound grew louder, he thought it best to wake Paul. As he was doing this, a wave of water burst on them, and the lower levels of the channel filled with bursts of foam. Barnabas immediately grabbed Paul into his powerful arms, swung him on to his back and began to climb. Coming out of deep sleep, Paul immediately realized that this was the water that suddenly breaks down from the mountain peaks every year about this time.

“Faster, Barnabas!” he cried.

Waist deep in water, Barnabas clambered desperately up the shifting slope, Paul clinging to his back. The stones rolled away, but he dug into the crevices and inch by inch lifted himself and his burden beyond the upper edge of the watercourse.

Barely escaping with their lives, their baggage carried off by the roaring water, the two messengers fell on their knees, put their faces to the ground, and gave praise to God.

“God sent us a test to see if we’re fit to carry the gospel to the world,” Paul said.


On the fifth day a band of robbers captured them and took them to their leader in his cave. He asked them who they were, where they came from and what they carried with them.

“We are Jews from Jerusalem, and we carry a great treasure of the God of Israel.”

“I’ve heard that Jews gather money for their Temple,” answered the robber captain, “so if that is what you mean, give us your silver and gold, and your lives will be spared.”

“Our treasure does not consist of silver and gold, but of something else. Whoever possesses it has eternal life.”

Then Paul told the robber captain the treasure of the gospel, saying that he could have it for free, for salvation was open to all. Realizing that these were two empty-handed Jews on a mission for God, the robber captain sent them away in peace with a supply of bread and water.

So the messengers labored onward. Having started their journey on Sunday, they reached the gates of Antioch on the afternoon before the Sabbath.


“Antioch of the hills” lay on a high plateau surrounded by hills, part of the mountain ridge that stretched from Mount Taurus to Mount Olympus. It was a city of commerce. The Jewish population was isolated from the influence of the Temple because it was so difficult and dangerous to get there, so there were relatively few visitors. The Jews of Antioch had little learning, and scholars among them were few. A process of assimilation had set in, and there were cases of intermarriage between Jews and Greeks. In spite of all that, the community had its great synagogue and various institutions with an appointed head, elders, and cantors, who kept guard over the life of the Jews and holding it, so far as was possible, in the ways of the rabbis of Jerusalem.

Like other cities in Asia Minor, there were many god-fearing Gentiles in Antioch, drawn into the decency and modesty of Jewish life. Women converts outnumbered the men, because of the severe ritual of Jewish law. But the women made no secret of their conversion, and to some extent it was their influence that brought men to the services.

Upon entering the city the messengers first asked about the location of the synagogue. Though exhausted by the laborious and dangerous journey, they dragged themselves through the streets and were received with the dignity and friendliness always given to wandering preachers. The elders of the synagogue attended to their needs, gave them lodging in the nearby hospice and within a couple of days, Paul and Barnabas regained their strength.

The Jews in Antioch were eager to hear these rare visitors and waited impatiently for the second week to end. Word spread about their arrival, and on the Sabbath the synagogue was packed with worshippers, Jewish and non-Jewish.

After the reading of the Torah the head of the synagogue honored Paul by allowing him to read the prophetic passage for the week. After that he invited Paul to speak with these words, “If you have a word of comfort for the people, let us hear it.”

Something in Paul’s manner and gestures struck the people as different from the ways of other preachers. He didn’t address himself to Jews only.

“You men of Israel,” he began, “and all you that fear God, hear me!”

He started the story from the exodus, went through the judges and the days of Samuel to the ascension of King David, who was mentioned in the prophetic passage that day. From David he turned to Messiah who must be descended from the house of David according to the prophets. He announced that Messiah had already come, in the person of Jesus, who had risen as the help of Israel.

Again he addressed himself to Jews and Greeks alike, “Children of the race of Abraham,” he said, “and all those among you who fear God! It is to you that Messiah has been sent!”

He went on to tell them how the elders in Jerusalem hadn’t recognized Messiah and hadn’t heeded the words of the prophets, which they read every Sabbath, and they’d handed Messiah over to the Gentiles. He was tortured and put to death on the cross, also according to prophecy. But on the third day God raised him from the dead. And Paul continued to quote the sayings and hints of the prophets and King David’s Book of Psalms, to the effect that all this had to be, and that this Jesus was the true Messiah.

He closed with words that rang strange to Jewish ears, “Everyone, be he Jew or Greek, who believes the gospel I bring to you, who believes in Jesus the Messiah, shall be justified by him in all those things wherein they could not be justified through the Law of Moses.”

As strange as these words were, the whole congregation received them in great joy. Many Jews and Gentiles followed the messengers to the house where Paul and Barnabas had been invited for the Sabbath meal. They wanted to hear more of this tremendous good news they had never heard until now. The Jews of this remote city were astonished that no previous messengers of the High Priest had told them these things when they came to collect the Temple tax. Neither had other messengers coming from the Pharisees. Thus the house was filled with members of the congregation, and many questions were asked. Paul and Barnabas never tired of repeating the details of their message, and when the afternoon ended, the Jews and Gentiles asked them to remain another week and to preach again the following Sabbath.

Paul and Barnabas certainly didn’t need to be asked twice. Nor did they spend the week in idleness. The next day, Paul invited all those he felt were most inclined to accept the new faith to the hospice. He spoke to them separately, and formed them into a separate group, calling them Christians. They would be a congregation within the congregation of Israel. He took both Jews and Greeks into the group and made them all equal in the brotherhood.

The Greeks were even more eager to enter the faith of Christ than the Jews, for this was the first time that a door was opened for them into the Holy of Holies without their having to pay for it through circumcision and observance of the laws of pure and impure food. But there were also Jews who were weary of these strictly enforced laws, the number of which seemed to increase daily. By faith in Messiah, they could be free from that yoke. And not only was their future free, but the sins they’d committed in the past were wiped out, and they were washed clean.

The hospice was like a beehive all that week, and by the second Sabbath, those who received baptism were of the congregation of Christians.


In the head of the synagogue’s house there was tumult and protest. Many Jews said that Paul and Barnabas were breaking up the community. And the head of the synagogue himself saw that he suddenly had a second congregation without his permission, in which there were Greeks who hadn’t converted to Judaism. Here these men show up with no documents from the priests or sages and without any proof, and preach Messiah. Worse, they put no obligation on the Gentiles. Uncircumcised people who make no commitment to the commandments and good deeds that are most holy to Israel are promised what is dearest to Israel, Messiah.

At a meeting of the elders, they argued, “If faith in Messiah brings greater redemption than the Law of Moses, and if Greek and Jew are equally entitled to the faith, let them come to us to admit the Greeks as equal brothers. Don’t let them create a second congregation behind the backs of the synagogue authorities.”

In some ways the angriest people were the pious Gentile women. Many of them had worked diligently to persuade their husbands and children to follow their example. And now, suddenly, these two men show up who say that this painful acceptance of Judaism is wasted and meaningless. They say that every Gentile who simply believes in Christ is more entitled to the promises of Israel than they are.

“What else could it mean,” they asked, “but that all our devotion was folly? Those who continue to worship idols and defile themselves in the temples now have a greater portion in the God of Israel than we who kept ourselves pure. Surely these men are deceivers. If it’s true that Christ has come and the Law of Moses is done away with, then surely the priests and sages of Jerusalem would have sent messengers to us. Let these false messengers be driven from the city!”

So the division became deeper and grew stormier throughout the week. It was talked about in the marketplace, in the shops, and in the vineyards. Jews and Greeks talked about it everywhere, even in the temples.

On the second Sabbath Paul and Barnabas came to the services along with their followers in the new faith. As soon as Paul mounted the pulpit, a tumult broke out. Shouting continued until Paul descended and left the synagogue.

The next day when the elders of the Jewish community assembled, a number of Gentile women converts appeared before them and complained most bitterly against the messengers. In order to stop the dissension in the city, the elders decided to ask the messengers to leave.

Before they left, Paul said, “It was necessary that the word of God should be spoken to you first. But seeing as how you have rejected it, and do not consider yourselves worthy of eternal life, we turn to the Gentiles.”