In 2 Corinthians 2:14 Paul uses an analogy of being in a Roman triumphal procession. He tells his readers, “But thanks be to God, who always leads us as captives in Christ’s triumphal procession and uses us to spread the aroma of the knowledge of him everywhere” (NIV).

A Roman triumph originated as a grand entry of an army into Rome, displaying captives and plunder.  Triumphal parades were only awarded when a general conquered a formidable foe in foreign lands, returning with great spoils of war.

In Paul’s era, the commanding general was typically elevated to near-god status — just below the status of the emperor.  The parade usually originated with musicians, followed by priests burning and distributing smoky incense, then captive leaders, destined for death and under guard of soldiers.  Then came riches plundered from the enemy, coupled with the wealth surrendered by the conquered.  Next there were large troops of persons taken captive and ready to be sold as slaves. Following this was the victorious Roman army, with the presiding general toward the rear, riding a chariot and adorned in a special robe to be worn only on that occasion.

We can see how Paul, telling the Corinthians that he is competent to minister to them only because of the Spirit’s work through him (2 Cor. 3:5-6), draws a picture of himself being led as a prisoner, destined to death.  He is presided over by Christ, the conquering general, who has made it possible for him to die to self and place himself totally in Christ’s care and competency.

Paul uses this analogy to explain how he travels from Ephesus, to Troas, to Macedonia.  All the while, he is concerned about the Corinthians.  He ministers, despite his overwhelming thoughts, and God spreads the aroma of His own presence, which follows Paul.  Paul is a captive in Christ’s triumphal procession, and like the clouds of incense in the triumphs in Rome, there is a special savor that makes all the difference, turning his mere mortal efforts into ones of divine competency.  The gentle presence of the Holy Spirit is an aroma of death to those perishing, and an aroma of life to those destined for eternal life.  In this respect, the Holy Spirit’s presence is like the clouds of incense during a triumphal march – to some it speaks of death, because they are destined to die; to others, it speaks of life, for they are called to the celebration.

As beautiful as this analogy is, it carries a far deeper meaning if we know a little more about Paul’s time in Ephesus.

The move of the Holy Spirit that broke forth in Ephesus is considered by many to be the greatest revival in the history of the church, down to this present day.  Millions of dollars of occult books were burned as Christianity supplanted witchcraft and spiritism.  Mighty miracles were manifest, over two million people heard the gospel, and giving to the gospel effort and its causes brought a precipitous fall in payment of temple tax through the Jewish synagogues of the province of Asia.

Historical accounts reveal that, since the payment of temple tax was protected by Roman law, there were legal grounds for the Jews of Asia Minor to make charges against Paul for diverting the funds, though Paul had no intent of depriving them of this income.  Paul was imprisoned for approximately six months, according to research done by Professor G. S. Duncan of St. Andrews.  Eventually, Paul was acquitted.  However, shortly after his acquittal, the Roman emperor, Claudius Caesar was assassinated by his wife Agrippina, making her son by another marriage, Nero, the new emperor.  One of Nero’s first acts was to have the proconsul of Asia, Marcus Junius Silanus, who had acquitted Paul, killed.  Many scholars hypothesize that Paul was then, once again, imprisoned.

Roman prisons were underground vaults of complete darkness.  Often days went by without even a torch being lit.  At times of political unrest, such as marked the assassination of Silanus, they were packed like cattle cars.  Often they were filled with excrement and lice.  Several shackles of iron bound each prisoner, and each shackle weighed about fourteen pounds, a heavy burden for someone emaciated and starving.

Roman prisons were not meant to hold prisoners long.  They were retention places for those undergoing trial or about to be killed by strangulation or wild animals.

1 Corinthians 15:32 makes a good case that Paul was at one point led in a triumphal march in Ephesus and abandoned to wild beasts in  the amphitheater.  It reads, “If I fought wild beasts at Ephesus with no more than human hopes, what have I gained?  If the dead are not raised, ‘Let us eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow, we die’” (NIV).

If this is the case, what a phenomenal sense it adds to Paul’s use of a Roman triumphal march in 2 Corinthians 2:14!  We see Paul and other prisoners, led by Roman soldiers, clouds of incense and waves of pagan music and revelry whipping an Ephesian crowd into ecstatic celebration, while it announces the doom of Paul and the other unfortunates.  However, Paul is by no means captivated by the Roman officials.  He is here solely because it is the will of God.  The same one, Christ, who has taken him captive to city after city to display him as a trophy of grace and lead him to preach the gospel, has brought him here.  He is Christ’s captive and Christ’s alone.  Amid the din of music and the smokescreen of the incense of death, Paul smells Christ’s own sweet presence – like the touch of a feather – like the scent of a flower.  The Roman triumphal march has no hold on him, and as he walks humbly in the triumphal procession of Christ, while others, soldiers and captives alike, unconsciously react to his anointing – some drawn to life, some fleeing into the grip of death.

Miraculously spared from death in the amphitheater, Paul later writes of his troubles in Ephesus, “We were burdened excessively beyond our strength, so that we despaired even of life; indeed, we had the sentence of death within ourselves so that we would not trust in ourselves, but in God who raises the dead; who delivered us from so great a peril of death, and will deliver us” (2 Cor. 1:8b-10a, NASB).