Have you ever wondered how the light of the gospel manages to shine so brilliantly in the midst of profound darkness? When we look back at the origins of our faith, we often find the greatest triumphs hidden within the deepest suffering. Today, we invite you to journey through history with Paul, stepping into the dramatic and harrowing final days of his life. Discover the untold stories of his imprisonment and the unyielding grace that sustained him.
This is part one of a three-part series (see part two here) excerpted from Chapter 1 of Nero and Paul by Kathie Lee Gifford and Dr. Bryan Litfin.
The Oppressive Heat of the Carcer
Sweat dripped from Paul’s forehead and soaked his dirty, ragged tunic. The air in the dungeon felt close, sultry, heavy. Though the summer sun beat down on the stone walls of the Carcer in Rome, the prison where he awaited his execution, the burning rays didn’t offer the gift of illumination. The tightly locked door and lack of windows saw to that. Only the sun’s oppressive heat reminded him of its presence outside.
Despite being a frail old man, Paul, who had been known as Saul before he became an apostle, was incarcerated in Rome’s darkest and most terrifying jail—the very thing he had done to the followers of Yeshua many years before. Now, like them, Paul endured harsh imprisonment while waiting for the mercy of God. Though we don’t know all the details, the infamous horrors of the Carcer provide a vivid picture of what it must have been like for Paul.
As if the heat wasn’t bad enough, the place reeked of sewage. A bucket in the corner supposedly served the prisoners’ toilet needs, but since the soldiers never emptied it, the bucket had long since overflowed and no one bothered to use it anymore. Two other convicts were chained with Paul, both emaciated and hopeless. Though he had explained the gospel to the suffering men, their fogged minds gave no evidence they had understood. May God have mercy on their souls, Paul prayed.
The Terrors of the Tullianum
Occasionally, a desolate wail arose from a hole in the prison’s floor. A second cell was located below the main level—the fearsome Tullianum, a pit from which no one emerged alive. Down there, a lone prisoner languished in utter darkness, gradually starving to death.
The main-level Carcer had been built by Rome’s fourth king, seven hundred years before the time of Paul. But it was Rome’s sixth king who had made the place even worse by turning an old cistern below the floor into the second, subterranean cell. That king was Servius Tullius, whose ancient name the Tullianum now bore. He had installed a sewer to drain the spring waters that naturally bubbled into the cistern.
Now the Tullianum was a dank, cold dungeon where convicts awaited a terrible death. If starvation was taking too long, a quick strangulation could finish the job. Then the corpse could be dumped down the sewer and the victim would never be spoken of again
Paul didn’t believe such a lingering fate would await him. As a Roman citizen, his death, if decreed, would be cleaner. Perhaps he could avoid the Tullianum. I hope so, he thought. It is a fearsome place!
A Glimmer of Hope and Fellowship
A creaking sound, accompanied by a sudden rush of blinding light, indicated the Carcer’s door had been opened. The two other forlorn prisoners stirred in their chains and drew back to the walls, terrified and trembling, for the door’s opening usually meant bad things. Perhaps they would be dumped into the Tullianum, or be beaten, or be strangled where they lay. Maybe they would be tortured for the soldiers’ amusement. Or they might be dragged outside and put on trial, leading to an inevitable sentence of crucifixion. Only rarely did the soldiers bring any food. The opening of the door normally brought trouble.
Paul, however, didn’t move, for he was unafraid. He wasn’t ashamed of his chains, nor did he want anyone to think he was. As for death, it held no power over him. “To live is Christ, and to die is gain” was his confident motto.1 In the darkness of the Carcer he reminded himself of it often.
Two legionaries stepped into the gloom, helmeted and clad in armor. Though their swords remained sheathed, both men carried spears in case the prisoners grew unruly. Then Paul discerned a third man behind them, a visitor whose identity was unclear as he stood silhouetted against the doorway. But when he crossed the threshold, Paul’s heart leapt with joy. Onesiphorus! He was a visitor from Ephesus, one of Paul’s dearest friends. A bribe had allowed him entrance into the cell. He walked in with a leather satchel slung over his shoulder. Precious things would surely be inside it.
The Gift of Purpose
“Don’t stay too long,” one of the soldiers said gruffly as he shoved Onesiphorus toward Paul. Both guards exited the prison, leaving the door ajar.
Onesiphorus greeted Paul in the name of the Lord as he kneeled beside his friend reclining on a straw mat. After exchanging warm expressions of brotherly affection, Onesiphorus opened his satchel and withdrew a barley loaf, a jar of olives, and three sardines wrapped in vine leaves. Immediately, Paul divided the food into thirds and had Onesiphorus distribute two of the portions to the foul-smelling prisoners nearby. They snatched the food and wolfed it down with no words of gratitude. A jug of watered wine also helped to slake their terrible thirst. As for the man in the Tullianum below, no food or drink was given to him. Even if he could somehow find it in the darkness, it would only prolong his suffering.
Onesiphorus returned to Paul’s side and once again reached into his satchel. “I have something else that will please you,” he said with a smile on his bearded lips. Then he withdrew his second gift.
“Papyrus!” Paul exclaimed. “And ink! And reed pens!” Onesiphorus set the items on the dungeon floor, then added a clay lamp, a sealed jar of olive oil, and a fire striker with some tinder. “Now, my brother, you can write words of hope, even in this place of darkness and fear.”
“Yes,” Paul agreed, clutching Onesiphorus’ arm, “the Word of God must shine forth. I have so many things to say to the brethren. And first among them, I shall write to my beloved Timothy.”
The Long Night Begins
After Onesiphorus departed, Paul didn’t immediately light his lamp. A tiny bit of sunlight crept around the frame of the door, as well as through a few cracks in the walls, providing just enough light to see by during the day. It was nighttime that terrified the prisoners the most. Then everything was utterly black—the deep darkness of the blind. The long nights stretched on and on, slowly creeping by, like sand through an hourglass, often without the relief of sleep. Paul thought he would prefer to save his lamp for those dreadful times.
Gradually, his drifting thoughts returned to the early days in Jerusalem, to his first encounter with the followers of the Way. How I hated those people! Oh Lord, forgive me! Memories from his acts of persecution often assaulted Paul, causing vivid dreams in which he murdered God’s people while the ugly demons around him laughed. He would gasp and wake up in a cold sweat from those nightmares, even in the muggy confines of the Carcer. “You are the chief of sinners!” the demons would screech. Only the remembrance of the gospel would banish their fearsome accusations.
Looking Ahead
Join us in the next part of this series as we explore Paul's deep reflections on his past, his zealous persecution of the early church, and the profound transformation that changed the course of history forever.
Taken from Nero and Paul: How the Gospel of Grace Defeated the Ruler of Rome by Kathie Lee Gifford and Dr. Byan Litfin. Copyright © 2026. Used by permission of HarperCollins Christian Publishing.
About the Authors
Kathie Lee Gifford’s four-time Emmy Award winning career has spanned television, film, recordings, Broadway, cabaret, and commercials. She has authored numerous books, including her most recent book, The God of the Way, and five New York Times bestselling books, including The Rock, the Road, and the Rabbi and It's Never Too Late. She is also an actress, singer, songwriter, playwright, producer, and director.
Dr. Bryan Litfin grew up in Dallas, TX; Oxford, England; and Memphis, TN. He earned a degree in print journalism from the University of Tennessee, a master's degree in historical theology at Dallas Seminary, and a Ph.D. in the field of ancient church history at the University of Virginia. The author of four nonfiction books and six novels, Dr. Litfin now works as Professor of Bible and Theology at Rawlings School of Divinity at Liberty University, Lynchburg, VA.