Escaped narrowly after the fall of Jerusalem . . .
Pursued relentlessly by the Sanhedrin . . .
Entrusted covertly with a mission more significant than he had imagined . . .
From the prison colony on Patmos, the Apostle John entrusts Nicodemus with manuscripts for the Christian fellowships increasing throughout the Roman Empire. While transcribing the manuscript, Nicodemus is prompted to recall his former life and his encounter with Yeshua - a man of mystery, a healer, a teacher, and a prophet. An encounter that changed everything.
Under the cover of darkness, risking his reputation and endangering his life even further, it is here that Nicodemus realizes the world-changing power of the Good News . . . and what being a follower of Yeshua truly means.
Escaped narrowly after the fall of Jerusalem . . .
Pursued relentlessly by the Sanhedrin . . .
Entrusted covertly with a mission more significant than he had imagined . . .
From the prison colony on Patmos, the Apostle John entrusts Nicodemus with manuscripts for the Christian fellowships increasing throughout the Roman Empire. While transcribing the manuscript, Nicodemus is prompted to recall his former life and his encounter with Yeshua - a man of mystery, a healer, a teacher, and a prophet. An encounter that changed everything.
Under the cover of darkness, risking his reputation and endangering his life even further, it is here that Nicodemus realizes the world-changing power of the Good News . . . and what being a follower of Yeshua truly means.
THE SIEGE OF JERUSALEM
THROUGHOUT THE ANCIENT CITY OF Jerusalem, anarchy
gripped the city. Roman soldiers laid siege while resistance Hebrew
groups inflamed the situation further. The Roman war machine displayed
its full might as they sought to eradicate what it considered to
be an uncivilized and ungrateful population. Caught between two
warring factions were the average citizens, the people just trying to
eke out a living and survive.
Central to the town, and clustered among many similar-looking
stone structures, sat the simple home of Nicodemus. A descendant of
the dominant ruling class of Pharisees, and a member of the religious
council known as the Sanhedrin, Nicodemus was destined to rise as a
leader. Yet, all of his aspirations were quickly being erased.
In this living anguish, tomorrow was an eternity.
âYaHoWaH, hear my prayers, for I am frightened for my life. Our
town, the city of David, is being torn apart. Please provide a miracle
and find a way for me to escape. For You areâ â
Interrupted, Nicodemus swiveled his head and stared. With their
fist, someone pounded on the front door. He stopped breathing, and
his eyes narrowed in fright.
The banging repeated.
A voice on the other side of the door shouted, âNicodemus, open
the door!â
Cautious, he arose from his kneeling position of prayer. His
knees covered in dust from the dirt, Nicodemus crept slowly and quietly
to the door. He peered through the cracks between the boards
and spotted two imposing Roman soldiers along with another nonmilitary
man.
Terrified, Nicodemus panted and leaned his back against the door.
Think, Nicodemus, think.
The knocking continued, and Nicodemus could feel the vibrations
of the door throughout his body.
âNicodemus, can you hear me? I am a friend of Joseph of
Arimathea. Please open this door at once!â
The name Joseph of Arimathea was welcome news. Against all
instincts, Nicodemus turned and lifted the weighty beam away from
the door. He opened it a mere inch. He saw a physically fit, younger
man, in his early twenties with his fist poised to pound on the door
once more. The manâs blue eyes were filled with trepidation.
His voice hoarse, he whispered. âNicodemus, you must come
with us right now. Joseph says itâs not safe for you here in Jerusalem.
The Romans have surrounded the city and are destroying everything
in their sight. The city will fall by tonight!â
Nicodemusâ eyes darted between the two Roman soldiers standing
on either side of the man. One a centurion, the other a regular
soldier. Muscular, they wore expressions of determination. Their
presence seemed ominous. Nicodemusâ knees felt weak. The young
man followed Nicodemusâ gaze and tried to reassure him.
âI am Leontis. Your friend, Joseph of Arimathea, says you must
come with these two soldiers and me. They will escort us from the
dangers occurring in the city. You must hurry, for there is very little
time left. Joseph awaits us in a cart by the Gate of the Essenes. Now,
please!â
While Nicodemus contemplated the manâs demands, several
Roman soldiers ran down the passageway between houses, chasing a
woman and small child. Everyone watched in horror as the soldiers
seized the fleeing individuals and butchered them instantly in the
street. Blood splattered the walls of nearby buildings as one soldier
with his sword sliced open both the woman and child in one swoop.
The two escort soldiers with Leontis burst their way into
Nicodemusâ house. They pulled Leontis inside as they entered and
slammed the door shut. One Roman kept watch, his foot bracing the
door closed.
He shouted. âIn a few moments, it will be too late!â
Screams of terror and the sound of swords terrorizing humanity
filled the outside air.
Leontis grabbed Nicodemus by the shoulders. âDo you wish to
bring anything important? We have to leave now, or you will die.â
Nicodemus hastily seized a large satchel, set it on his table. He
stuffed his scrolls and research papers into the bag. As he reached
out for ink jars and stylus pens, the Centurion knocked them out of
Nicodemusâ hand, causing them to spill on the floor.
Stunned by the abruptness, Nicodemus stared with an open
mouth.
âCitizen, enough! You can replace them later. We must go now.â
He roughly grabbed Nicodemus and shoved him toward the door.
The heavy satchel slipped off Nicodemusâ shoulder, so he bent
over to retrieve it. The Roman centurion snapped the bag off the
floor and pushed the group outside.
Everywhere they looked, crazed Romans killed innocent people
in bloodlust. The Roman soldiers escorting Leontis and Nicodemus
grabbed an arm of each man and marched them between two
buildings.
As the four worked their way through the city, complete pandemonium
erupted throughout the streets. Every time Nicodemus looked
around he saw nothing but blood and dead bodies. Recognizing a few
of the individuals as friends or neighbors, Nicodemus felt sick to his
stomach.
The two Roman escorts urgently pulled Nicodemus and Leontis
along as they moved closer to the southern wall of the city. When
Nicodemus looked over his shoulder in the direction of the temple,
he saw thick black smoke rising. Nicodemus lost his footing and
stumbled, but Leontis took hold of his other arm. Running, the soldier
and Leontis nearly dragged Nicodemus the last hundred feet by
his arms.
Nearing the Gate of the Essenes, Nicodemus recognized Joseph
hunched over, waiting. When Joseph heard the four men approaching,
he looked up and smiled. Leontis pulled back a heavy cloth covering
the rear of the cart. Multiple small crates, sacks of grain, and
hay littered the floor of the wagon.
One Roman soldier hefted Nicodemus into the back. He then rearranged
the cargo and pointed. âYou, hide up there below the seat of
your friends. Make yourself tight, into a ball and donât make a sound!â
Without hesitation, Nicodemus did as instructed and pulled his
satchel in tight to his body. These notes represented his lifeâs work.
The soldiers and Leontis arranged the cargo and moved the extra
hay around Nicodemus. They then pulled the tarp back over the rear
area.
The Centurion leaned in close to where he suspected Nicodemus
lay concealed. âNot a sound or you will die. No matter what happens,
the other soldiers cannot know youâre back here. Do you understand
me?â he demanded.
âYes,â came Nicodemusâ clipped reply.
The soldier slapped the donkeyâs backside, and the cart jerked forward.
As the wagon plodded along with Joseph and Leontis driving,
the two soldiers walked on either side of the wagon as a protective
detail.
As they cleared the gate, a cluster of Roman soldiers nailed a man
to a crucifix. He screamed as they drove nails into his wrists. The
detail of soldiers stopped their work and watched their two fellow
soldiers with the cart. A sizeable menacing man approached the four
intruders as they departed the city.
âHalt, who goes there?â
The escort Centurion stepped forward. âStep aside, Decanus. We
are on official business per the legatus, Pontius Pilate.â
The lower ranking Decanus saluted by striking his fist to his
breastplate and then extending his arm forward. âYes sir, Centurion,â
but he was suspicious. âWhat, if I may ask, is in the cart, sir?â
Irritated, the Centurion chastised the soldier, âSupplies for our
unit bringing up the rear of this campaign.â
The others associated with the cart, watched in shock as the
Centurion pulled the heavy cloth partially aside revealing the boxed
contents. Nicodemus froze, praying no one could see him. After a
long pause, the Centurion pulled the fabric back over the rear.
With an icy edge in his voice, he barked at the Decanus. âSatisfied?â
The Roman nodded, âYes sir.â
The centurion slapped the donkeyâs backside again, forcing
their journey forward. Leontis started to look back but was abruptly
stopped.
âEyes forward, Leontis. Please,â mumbled Joseph.
After about thirty minutes elapsed, the four individuals began to
relax when they rounded a small hill and encountered a full Roman
detachment blocking the road. Two Roman sentries halted their
progress.
Before the sentries could ask, the Centurion of the escort group
quickly explained to minimize curiosity. âWe are conducting official
business per the legatus, Pontius Pilate.â
âWhatâs in the back?â demanded one the sentries.
âSupplies for our unit bringing up the rear of this campaign,â said
the Centurion.
Joseph pulled out a roll of parchment with a red seal and held it
out. The Centurion escort took it and showed it to the sentry.
The sentry inspected the parchment roll and saw the official red
wax seal, but then refused to touch it.
An officer appeared and dismounted his horse. âLegionnaire,
whatâs going on?â The officer handed the reins to the nearest soldier.
The soldier snapped to attention. âTravelers with supplies to a
rear detachment, sir.â
The Tribuni looked at the escort Centurion, âTell me, to what
unit are you assigned?â
The Centurion saluted, âThe Legio VI Ferrata, sir.â He held out
the roll of parchment, and the Tribuni never hesitated but opened
the wax seal.
After reading the contents, the Tribuni handed the document
back. âCheck the back of their wagon, Legionnaire.â
The sentry took his sword and slashed through the cloth cover,
letting tip strike wood. Moving around, he stabbed several times. He
lifted the tarp and saw crates, small barrels, sacks of grain and scattered
hay. Satisfied, he nodded to the Tribuni.
Curled tight and barely breathing, Nicodemus watched with horror
as the sharp Roman blade pierced the cloth striking the area all
around his hidden position. On the last plunge of the sword, the tip
nicked Nicodemusâ calf, slicing a deep gash into the flesh. Nicodemus
squeezed his eyes shut and bit hard into his tongue. He stifled a
scream. The searing pain was excruciating.
Joseph kept his face down the entire time and instantly spotted
red droplets falling from beneath the cart. Worried, he saw the crimson
liquid forming into a small pool. Joseph held his breath.
The Tribuni used his riding crop handle and lifted the face of
Joseph. âName?â
âJoseph of Arimathea.â He smiled up at the Roman officer.
The Tribuni looked at the athletic young man seated alongside
Joseph. âWhatâs his story? He looks fit enough to fight for the Romans.â
Joseph snatched the left arm of Leontis and thrust it toward the
Tribuni. When he performed this maneuver, an iron bracelet affixed
to the manâs wrist revealed in Latin and Greek letters, the man was a
slave. âHis name is Leontis and my servant.â
The Tribuni gazed into the eyes of the two men seated in the cart,
as if gauging whether they were telling the truth. After a brief pause,
he remounted his horse.
âLet them pass,â commanded the Tribuni.
The high-spirited horse, anxious and ready to run, acted like a
racehorse ready at the gate. The Tribuni pulled on the reins to maintain
eye contact with the Centurion of the escort. âGive my regards
to your Praefectus Castrorum. Perhaps we can be finished with these
savages soon enough and return home to our wives.â
âYes sir, and thank you,â replied the Centurion as he saluted.
The Roman encampment contained several thousand men, so
the four-person escort gradually navigated the horde as soldiers surrounding
their position watched them pass through. When the group
neared the edge of the camp, Joseph saw captured Israeli zealots in a
holding area.
Without regard for their ghastly screams, the Romans began
hacking off the limbs of the Zealots. Once the prisoner was devoid of
his arms and legs, the soldiers then decapitated their wailing heads.
Other Roman soldiers tossed the severed body parts onto a colossal
burning pyre. The stench was retching and the sight even more
grotesque.
As the cart with the four individuals detoured around the ghoulish
spectacle, Leontis glared at the Roman soldiers.
Joseph raised his eyes just slightly toward his slave and muttered,
âDonât watch, Leontis.â
âWhy on earth are they doing this?â Leontis barely whispered.
Joseph tightly gripped Leontisâ wrist.
The two Roman soldiers and their escorts traveled several more
miles, and then the Centurion stopped their progress. They were now
out of sight and far away from the Roman detachment.
âAs requested, weâve completed our task, per orders of the legatus,
Pontius Pilate. Donât think Iâm not repulsed by our performance,
for I have just lied to a Tribuni and several brothers back there. And
for whatâto save a wealthy citizen, his slave, and this Jew?â the
Centurion shook his fist at them.
Leontis doubled his hands and tightened his body. Joseph patted
Leontisâ leg, and then reached under his seat and pulled out a small
chest. After unlocking it, he retrieved two purple cloth bags with
gold drawstrings. Each bag was the size of two menâs fists. He handed
them to Leontis.
âPlease pay the soldiers.â
Leontis vehemently hissed, âMaster, one bag equals the wages of
a manâs lifetime.â
Joseph smiled, âCenturion, here is your payment for your services.
There are one hundred gold shekels for each of you. May YaHoWaH
bless you for what you have done for my friends and me.â
The mood instantly shifted as the Centurion and soldier hefted
the weight of the bags in their hands. Like gleeful school boys who
escaped punishment for their misdeeds, the two soldiers smiled with
pleasure. They grinned at one another. One soldier opened his bag
and pulled a gold piece out and laughed.
âYes, this made our deception worth it. I suggest you never come
back this way again,â the Centurion threatened. âThe outcome may
not be so favorable.â
Both soldiers turned and walked back in the direction of
Jerusalem. While they walked, they endlessly congratulated themselves
for their new fortunes. Leontis and Joseph watched them disappear
over a small rise in the road.
âMaster, why so much money. They will just spend it on prostitutes
and beer!â objected Leontis.
Joseph half smiled. âAnd I was prepared to spend even more to
save my friendâs life.â
Joseph reached down and patted their stowaway under the cloth.
âNicodemus, it is safe, you may come out. We are now far from the
city and any danger.â
Nicodemus didnât move.
Leontis jumped from the cart and pulled back the heavy cloth.
He sucked air between his teeth when he saw the vast pool of dried
blood. Nicodemus was curled into a tight ball, his eyes jammed closed.
Leontis shook the man.
âWeâre out of danger, Nicodemus, can you get up? Are you hurt?â
asked Leontis.
Slowly at first, Nicodemus opened one eye then the other. He
paused and surveyed their surroundings. He was soaked with sweat.
âQuickly, Leontis, give him some water,â commanded Joseph as
he handed the clay watering jar to his slave.
The servant helped Nicodemus sit up and let him sip some water.
âLet me look at your wound.â
Ripping several long narrow strips of cloth from his outer robe,
Leontis bandaged Nicodemusâ leg. He smiled up at Joseph. âIt is a surface
cut; not too deep.â
Nicodemus winced, âSurface cut? Itâs not your leg!â
Both Joseph and his servant chuckled.
âYouâre alive Nicodemus, and youâll probably have a nasty reminder
once it heals, but youâre alive and away from the city,â said
Joseph.
Nicodemus felt relief. âThank you, Joseph.â He looked at Leontis.
âThank you both for saving my life. You are the answer to my prayers.â
When the three men looked back in the direction of Jerusalem,
they could see nothing but dark billowing smoke rising to the clouds.
Joseph shuddered and mourned over the destruction. âMy friends,
we are observing the end of an era for Israel. Our history is forever
changed by what we have witnessed here, and I doubt we will recover
for several thousand years.â
  I have always been drawn to alternate history books, and also to those that take a minor character and present more about him or her. The New Testament figure of Nicodemus appears in the well-known third chapter of St. Johnâs Gospel, and appears twice more. A non-canonical gospel was attributed to him, and various legends originated about him.
  The author had written a plausible story of Nicodemusâ role in the Early Church. Rather than being portrayed as an elderly member of the Sanhedrin, Nicodemus here is a younger man whose father is in that group; Nicodemus is slated to join the Sanhedrin in due time. While a younger Nicodemus is not part of the tradition, it must be remembered that there is no definite proof of his age. Therefore what the author has chosen to do it plausible, and it does make for good reading.
    For me that first part of the book was the best. Nicodemusâ escape from a besieged Jerusalem in 70 A.D. is exciting and plausible. An aged Joseph of Arimathea enabled Nicodemus to escape, and to undertake the risky trip to visit the Apostle John, who is imprisoned on Patmos.  The descriptions of the voyages to and from that prison island are quite well-done.
    In the middle section, dialog takes control of the text. Descriptions of people and places is largely, but not completely, pushed to the background. The plot is driven by lengthy conversations and a close following of the Fourth Gospel itself. The author does create a sense of historicity by referring to Jesus as Yâshua. Other, but not all, characters are referred to by Hebrew names (assuming of course that they are indeed Hebrew), instead of the more-familiar versions
    When depicting events that are not in the New Testament, or which are not fully-depicting in it, what the author presents it logical and not contradictory. The death and burial of Yâshua sections are very well-written and go into great detail.
   In conclusion, Persuaded makes for good reading and it worth oneâs time.