As I sat in the darkness, my thoughts lost their foothold and in a strange way I experienced my mother’s merciful presence as I held the smooth goblet in my hand. I thought, too, of my father, who seriously believed that the king of the Jews had risen from the dead after crucifixion and said he had seen him when he and my mother had journeyed together in Galilee. Ever since I was a boy, I had been afraid he would disgrace himself in the company of decent people by expressing these lunatic sentiments.
But what did the views of decent people or superiors matter to me if life was still without meaning? Of course it seems very grand to serve a kingdom whose aim is to create worldwide peace and give the world Roman law and order. But then, are good roads, fine aqueducts, mighty bridges and permanent stone houses an aim in life? Why am I alive, I, Minutus Lausus Manilianus, and why do I exist? I asked myself this and I am still asking this, here at this watering place where they are curing the disease of my blood, and to pass the time I am writing down my life for your sake, my son-you who have just received your man-toga.
The next day I humbled myself and went to find Paul in the tent-makers’ alley to talk to him alone. He was, after all, a Roman citizen and not just a Jew. The elder of the guild knew at once whom I meant and laughed loudly.
“You mean the learned Jew, do you?” he said. “The one who has abandoned his laws and is preaching a new faith, threatening the Jews that blood will come on their heads, and wishing that they’d not only get themselves circumcised but gelded too. A good man and a good craftsman. He doesn’t need much encouragement. He can preach at the loom if he wants to. I’ve had many a good laugh at his expense. His reputation brings us new customers, too. Do you want a new tent or a rainproof cloak?”
As soon as I could get away from him, I went on down the dusty alley strewn with goat-hair and came to an open workshop where, to my surprise, I found the broken-nosed Aquila from Rome sitting beside Paul. His wife Prisca recognized me at once and gave a cry of pleasure, telling Paul my name and how I had once come to the assistance of the Christians in the fighting with the faithful Jews in Rome.
“But that’s all over now,” Prisca went on hurriedly. “We very much regret the blind assurance which made us boast so. Now we’ve learned to turn the other cheek and pray for those who insult us.”
She chattered on as before and her husband was just as silent as before, not even stopping his monotonous work to greet me. I asked them about their flight and how they were managing in Corinth. They could not complain, but Prisca wept at the thought of the dead she had left behind in the ditches on the roadside as they had left Rome.
“But they received the immortal palm,” she said. “And they did not die with a curse on their lips but praised Jesus, who has saved them from their sins.”
I did not answer, for she was but a silly woman who had done great harm to both her kin and the faithful Jews. But I turned respectfully to Paul.
“I heard you preaching yesterday,” I said. “I have to render a thorough account of your way. So I have some counterarguments which I should like to discuss with you. We can’t do that here. Would you care to come to my house this evening for a meal? As far as I can make out, you have nothing to hide in your teaching nor does it prevent you from eating with a Roman.”
To my surprise, Paul was not at all impressed by my invitation. With his worn expression and piercing eyes, he looked at me and said briefly that God’s wisdom reversed all arguments and made them foolish. He was not called to dispute but to bear witness for Jesus Christ, because of the revelation he had experienced.
“But I’ve heard that you have spoken in the marketplace in Athens,” I protested. “You can’t have escaped disputes with the Athenians.”
It seemed as if Paul did not particularly wish to be reminded of his appearance in Athens. He had probably been made to look foolish there. But he said that some people believed him, among them one of the judges at the city court. Whether they had really been convinced by this alien speaker or whether they had not wished to offend him out of sensitivity, I did not inquire.
“But you could at least answer a few simple questions,” I said, “and presumably you have to eat like everyone else. I promise not to disturb your trend of thought with rhetorical objections. I shan’t dispute, but just listen.”
Aquila and Prisca both urged him to accept my invitation and told him they knew nothing evil of me. During the confusion in Rome, I had accidentally taken part in the Christian love-feast. My father helped the poor and behaved like a godly man. Neither do I think Paul had any political suspicions of me.
When I returned home, I arranged for the evening meal and looked around my house. In a strange way all my things looked alien to me. Hierex too, seemed alien to me, although I seemed to know him.. What did I know of the doorkeeper and the cook? I could not understand them by speaking to them, for they gave only the kind of answers they thought I liked to hear.
I should have been content with my life. I had money, a good appearance, a position in the State service, excellent patrons and a healthy body. Most people would not reach the heights I had at my young age in all their lives. And yet I was not happy.
Paul and his companions arrived as the evening stars were coming out, but he left his friends’ outside and came in by himself. As a courtesy to him, I had covered my household gods with a cloth, for I knew idols offended the Jews. I had Hierex light sweet-smelling beeswax candles in honor of my guest.
After a simple vegetable course, I offered a meat course, explaining that he need not taste it if his teaching did not permit him to eat meat. Paul took some with a smile and said that he did not want to cause me any offense or even ask me where the meat had been bought. To Greeks he liked to be a Greek, to Jews a Jew. He also drank diluted wine but remarked that he would soon be making a promise for certain reasons.
I did not want to trap him with either forbidden foods or artful questions. When we started talking, I tried to formulate my questions as carefully as possible. The most important thing from Gallio’s and Rome’s point of view was to find out what exactly his position was in relation to the Roman State and the common good.
He assured me in all honesty that he usually advised everyone to obey the public authorities, to comply with law and order and to avoid causing offense.
He did not set slaves against their masters? No. According to him, everyone should be content with his position on earth. A slave should submit to his master’s will and the master treat his servants well and remember that there is a Lord who is Lord of all.
Did he mean the Emperor? No. He meant the living God, the creator of heaven and earth, and Jesus Christ, his son, who had promised to return to earth to sit in judgment on the living and the dead.
For the time being I skirted around this delicate point and asked him what instructions he gave to those he succeeded in converting. This he had evidently meditated on a great deal, but he contented himself by saying, “Support the afflicted, take care of the weak, show forbearance to everyone. Never avenge evil with evil, but strive to do good to each other. Always be joyful. Pray unceasingly. Give thanks for every moment.”
He also said that he told the brothers to lead a quiet life and to work with their hands. It was not their business to reproach the adulterers, revilers, drunkards, extortioners and idol-worshipers. Then they would be forced to leave the world themselves. But if someone who had joined them showed themselves to be an adulterer or reviler or drunkard or extortioner or idol-worshiper, then he must be reproved. If he did not better himself, then one would not associate with him or even eat in his presence.