Band of Believers

This story is about four young friends who found themselves in prison during the Roman Empire. History gives us only a list of names and a short summary of what happened when an old man was thrown into their cell. Here is my imagined glimpse of that moment.

270’s AD, Nicomedia

Ipatius nudged the boy sitting next to him on the floor. “Hear that? Steps, I think.”

Claudius looked up and considered the door of their prison cell. Nothing could be seen yet, but the steps were growing louder.

Iaptius glanced at the two sleeping boys curled up on the stones. “Should we wake them?”

“Let’s see what happens first,” replied Claudius, eyes still on the door.

A slash of light flickered across the floor as the door opened. Both boys made the sign of the cross over their chests and held their breaths, but no guard appeared. Instead, an old man with long white hair stumbled in, coughing and wincing. 

On the floor, Paul awoke, propping himself up on his elbow to get a better look. Ipatius nodded at Paul and then glanced at the fourth boy, still asleep. He shook his head in grim amusement. “Dionysius can sleep through anything,” he muttered, before turning his attention to the newcomer. Was he a murderer? A thief? A Christian like them? 

The elder tried to walk towards the boys but swerved to the left, crumpling against the stained gray stones of the wall. Whatever he was, he was too weak to hurt them. Ipatius jumped up to help him but immediately stumbled. He felt the iron shackles pull hard against his ankles and frowned. He had forgotten them. By the time Ipatius adjusted himself, Claudius made his way to the elder, and each boy took a wrinkled arm over his shoulder.

“Here you go,” said Ipatius.

“One step more,” grunted Claudius.

They lowered him gently down onto the only bench in the small room. The cell was square, each wall about the length of two men lying head to toe. It was bare except for a wooden bench on a wall near the door and a pile of hay taking up a third of the room opposite them. They would have chosen to lay on the hay, but the smells rising from underneath told them it was there for refuse, not for comfort. 

Back at the bench, Ipatius decided the elder was stable enough to sit. He tried to think what else he could do but failed. “Sorry we don’t have any water to give you.” 

Paul sat up and observed their new companion. After a few seconds of study, Paul delivered his verdict. “You must be a Christian too. Bruised face, blood on your teeth, swollen eyes.” Paul narrowed his eyes and asked, “Name?”

Iaptius broke in, “Paul, he’s a human. Not an astronomical chart to be read.” Despite his protest, Ipatius glanced at the old man to notice the details he had missed that Paul had pointed out.

Claudius put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Sorry. Our friend is–”

“I’m Paul,” the boy interrupted, “and I’m correct, right? Christian? And what is your name?” He glanced at Ipatius and added, “Sir.”

The elder took a labored breath and whispered, “Lucillian,” before falling forward off the bench.

Paul pushed himself back, out of the way.

Ipatius tried to catch Lucillian but tumbled over his shackles, again. His arms flailed in an absurd effort to balance and not land on anyone.

Claudius reached out an arm, but couldn’t fully stop Lucillian’s fall. The elder landed on the sleeping Dionysius, who merely muttered something unintelligible, still asleep. 

Ipatius lost his fight for his balance. He landed on top of Lucien, on top of Dionysius. The boy grunted, tried to roll over but failed, sighed, and opened his eyes.

Paul pulled Ipatius off the top and Claudius gently rolled the elder to the side.

Dionysius asked groggily, “They here to torture us yet?” He swept his eyes over the scene, decided no, and rolled over, back asleep.

Ipatius shook his head once more. “How does he do it?”

Paul sat back on the floor, arms around his knees. “Simple. It’s one of three options. One, he trusts God more than the rest of us and can therefore sleep in peace. Two, he is considerably dumber than the rest of us and doesn’t know to be scared. Or, three, he has a sleeping illness and can’t help it.”

Ignatius and Claudius exchanged glances.

Paul continued without a breath, “Since we grew up together, we know he doesn’t have a sleeping illness. And, though he is considerably slower at grasping a lesson than I, he is still capable of simple deductions. Therefore, we have to conclude it’s option one. He trusts God. And the rest of us are fools.”

“Hey!” his friends protested.

“It’s true,” continued Paul. “We believe in Christ enough to refuse to make a sacrifice to the pagan non-gods. But we don’t believe in Him enough to trust Him now that we’ve been thrown in prison. It doesn’t follow, logically.” He pinched his lips together and stared at the stack of hay.

A groan emanated from the elder, now reclining on Claudius’s lap. Claudius adjusted his arm behind the man’s back so he could sit up to speak.

“He’s right, you know.” The elder winced from the effort of talking. Ipatius thought the elder’s mouth looked like it wouldn’t open as much as it was supposed to, and wondered why.

“Broke your jaw, didn’t they?” Paul was still looking off into nothingness when he spoke.

Ipatius stared at Lucillian, wondering if his friend was right.

“Yes, the prefect did it.” His white hair shook from the strain of his effort. “And hung me upside down until my bowels almost crushed my lungs. But I would never say a word against my Christ. How could I, after I came to him so late in life? I can’t waste one day. I have so few left.”

Claudius asked, “What do you mean?”

“I was a pagan priest almost my whole life. So many years wasted. But not 

now. Now that I know my Christ.” He tried to sit up more. “When I was baptized, the pagans worried I would–” 

He succumbed to a fit of coughing, and the boys waited in silence until he was ready to speak again.

“They worried I would turn others to Christ. So they arrested me and broke 

my jaw bone to get me to change my mind.”

“But it didn’t.” The corner of Ipatius’s mouth curved slightly upward, despite his concern. If this old man could withstand torture, perhaps he could do it too.

“No, it didn’t. So here I am.” Lucillian looked at the four boys and as he did, his face transformed. It was still swollen and dirty and had bits of dried blood around his mouth, but it also had peace and light shining out of his eyes. “And God has given me you boys to encourage me. If you can stand for Christ, and you are mere boys, then I can stand too.”

Ipatius, Claudius, and Paul looked at each other and at the elder Lucillian. The boys straightened their shoulders. Small smiles grew on all the faces.

“Amen!” Dionysius’s voice boomed from the floor. “This is worth waking up for!”

Epilogue: Lucillian and the boys spent their imprisonment in prayer, encouragement, and chanting of the psalms. The elder encouraged the young men to hold to their faith, and they did. When a furnace was heated for them, inciting the memory of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, the boys did not deny Christ. They were thrown into the fire, but God sent a rain to put it out and none of the four boys was hurt. After proving their faith and encouraging others to believe, Lucillian, Paul, Ipatius, Claudius, and Dionysius joined the Christ they loved so much up in heaven, receiving their martyrs’ crowns.

Lagniappe

Historical Account - Now that you’ve read my imagined version of their encounter in prison, read the summary of the life of Lucillian, which includes a miracle with the four youths Claudius, Ipatius, Paul, and Dionysius.

Where is Nicomedia? I made a webpage for you with the city marked on an ancient map, marked on a modern map, and visualized in graphic form.

Saint Lucillian’s story with the Holy Virgin Paula - This month I have met so many saints that appeared in pairs or groups. It encourages me that we are not alone in our journey!

Hymns about Christian History

(Troparion — Tone 1 melody)

By your faith, you shone like a radiant star in the dark night of error; 

you fought the good fight and slew the crafty enemy, O Lucillian. 

Together with venerable Paula and the four martyred children 

entreat Christ our God to save our souls.