by Carol Ashby
Chapter 49: Crossing the Line
Decimus had slept only a few hours, but he’d slept so well that he awoke at dawn feeling rested and relaxed. He rose and went to the dining hall, where he expected to share breakfast with his father. He would tell Father about his decision to follow Jesus and what that would mean for his future. It would be difficult, if not impossible, for Father to understand and accept his decision right away, but that didn’t matter. His loyalty had shifted from Rome to Jesus, and he was ready for whatever that brought.
A slave was putting fresh sheets on the couches. He bowed deeply and bit his lip.
“I beg pardon for failing to have your breakfast ready, master. We didn’t expect anyone to be up so early after the banquet last night. We should have known that a soldier like yourself would keep earlier hours than your father. I’ll go tell chef you’ll need it immediately.”
“Don’t bother. I can wait. I’m planning to eat with Father, and I doubt he’s up yet after so much wine. I’ll be in the library. Send someone for me when he’s ready to eat.”
The slave bowed again as Decimus turned and walked out of the room.
Decimus fought a smile as he strolled to the library. The shock on the slave’s face at seeing a patient, undemanding Lentulus was the funniest thing he’d seen since reaching Rome.
His father was already reclining at the table when Decimus entered the dining hall. His eyes were bloodshot, and he probably had a beast of a headache even though Flavius Sabinus only served the best wines. His mouth was turned down in a frown that was replaced by a smile as Decimus entered the room.
“Ah, Decimus. You surprise me by rising so early when you don’t have to. And reading in the library, no less.”
“I don’t like to waste the early hours of the day in bed, and a well-written history is always a worthwhile way to pass the time.”
His father smiled as he shrugged.
“You always were more of a scholar than I ever was. Publius’s influence, no doubt. After last night’s banquet, I expected you to sleep even later than me.”
The corners of his mouth turned suddenly upward in a satisfied and knowing smile. “Sabinus was very impressed with you. I didn’t expect him to give you such a desirable gift upon first meeting you, but I’m delighted that he did. It bodes well for him working on your behalf to advance your career.”
His father chuckled as he pulled a grape off its stem and popped it into his mouth. “He was most gratified with your response to his generosity. He said not many would have been so eager to leave the wine and food like that and spend the entire night with someone as ugly as that one. They’re only virgins the first time. If you’d finished with her quickly, he’d planned to offer her to me as well. Sabinus is always a thoughtful host.”
He popped another grape into his mouth.
“He was glad she pleased you enough that you wanted her for so many hours. I expected you to be through before it was time for me to leave. I would have sent the chariot back for you last night, but the slave said you asked not to be disturbed until they had to send her back to the arena. I didn’t expect the pleasure of your company at breakfast, but I guess they needed to take her back early.”
Decimus masked his disgust as his father talked about the girl as if it was admirable for Sabinus to treat her as some animal to be used for the amusement of his guests. He didn’t remember seeing this side of Father before, but that was probably only his lack of attention. It was unlikely that Father had only now become so callous about how much a girl like her would suffer. Valeria’s comments on how little human life was valued in Rome had certainly hit the mark.
His father tore some bread off the loaf that lay on the table.
“I think we should go to the games as soon as we finish breakfast. That gives us a greater chance of running into some of the other influential men I want you to get to know better while you’re in Rome.”
Decimus took a deep breath. “I can’t go to the games with you, Father.”
His father looked up, his eyebrows slightly lifted. “We discussed this yesterday. If you have other plans for the day, you can change them.”
“Actually, I have other plans for my life.”
His father swung his legs off the couch and sat up. A grimace declared that the sudden movement did not help his headache.
Decimus sat down on his couch and faced his father.
Father’s eyes narrowed, and a worried frown appeared. “What are you talking about?”
“I know we’d planned for me to follow in your footsteps, hoping I might also become a provincial governor. Something has happened that makes that impossible.”
Decimus paused for a deep breath. What he was about to say would change his relationship with his father forever. God, don’t let Father be too badly hurt by what I’m about to tell him. It was too much to ask that he understand right now.
“I can no longer follow the course of offices. I’ve decided to follow Jesus, and that means I can never fulfill the duties of each. I can never again offer worship and sacrifice to Caesar. I could never serve as quaestor and organize games where people are killed for entertainment. I don’t even want to go to the games again. I must withdraw now while I’m only a tribune.”
The look of shock on his father’s face was beyond what Decimus had expected, but not by much.
“I know this is hard for you to hear. I know you’ve regarded Christians as enemies of Rome since my childhood, and that’s why you’ve persecuted them for years. I can promise you that nothing is further from the truth. We aren’t enemies of anyone, and even if we were, by Jesus’s own command we have to love our enemies as if they were our friends.”
His father still hadn’t moved or spoken. He just sat there, staring at Decimus.
The total lack of response was disturbing, but Decimus continued. “I know that by your own decree, I should be arrested and executed. I know that under Roman law, you can kill me yourself without penalty. I hope you choose not to kill me or turn me in. But I must tell you that if I am arrested, I will choose death over denial of Jesus as my Lord and savior.”
The silence coiled around Decimus as he waited for his father to respond.
His father rose to his feet, and Decimus stood also. Father began pacing, frequently looking over at Decimus with a steadily deepening scowl, shaking his head as he walked. Decimus remained standing by his couch, watching his father build toward the explosion he knew was coming.
Finally, his father approached Decimus and stopped just beyond reach. He ran his fingers through his graying hair and shook his head as he stared into his son’s eyes. His eyes smoldered with anger.
“Have you gone mad? Only a madman would choose to walk away from family, fortune, power to follow...what? A dead man from a backwater province who claimed to be a god? What has happened to you? Why on earth would you make such an insane decision?”
“Because Jesus didn’t just claim to be a god. He actually is God, and I’ve seen proof myself that everything He claimed is true. I haven’t told you what happened in the ambush. I should not be here alive and seeing your face except for miracles of healing from God. I’ve been in battle; so have you. I can tell when a wound should kill. I had two of those.”
He put his foot up on the couch and drew his finger along the scar on his leg.
“You see this scar? The cut was deep. I should have bled to death. I’ve never seen someone with a cut like this who didn’t bleed out within a few minutes, and I was losing blood that fast. I lost a huge amount of blood, but somehow it didn’t kill me.”
He turned his head and pulled the hair aside to reveal the jagged scar on the back of his head.
“An ax split my helmet open but didn’t cut into my skull. See the scar? Only my scalp was cut. The blow was so hard that I lay unconscious for two days. I should never have awakened. How did an ax do that without cutting my skull wide open?”
He turned to fa
ce his father.
“Even if the ax didn’t kill me, that blow should have blinded me forever. I was blind for a week, and then my sight returned overnight. It shouldn’t have. There was no reason why it would except for a miracle from God.”
His father had been listening intently, but then he shook his head. “No. None of that had to be a miracle from the Christian god. You’re a strong, healthy man. The healings must have been natural.”
“I have more proof, Father.” Decimus paused, not quite sure how to explain his encounter in the night. He wouldn’t have believed it himself if someone told him, in spite of his conversations with Publius and his knowledge of Valeria and her codices. He would say nothing about her. In his anger, Father might go hunting for the woman who had begun leading him to Jesus.
“What proof can you possibly have? Proof of something that can’t be explained in other ways?”
“I’ve met God myself. He surrounded me with light, and I felt like I was wrapped in a love that...it’s nothing like anything I’ve ever experienced before, and it’s impossible to explain to you. It was so warm, so deep, so passionate, so complete...I never imagined what that would be like. The peace in my heart, the joy...I can’t explain it to you. God filled me with His presence, and I know He’s here with me now.”
“You’re insane. Maybe the blow to your head has done this, but no intelligent Roman could ever believe what you’re saying.”
“Would you consider Publius Drusus an intelligent Roman? Isn’t he the smartest man we both know?”
“Of course. He’s admired as a historian and philosopher by all who know him. I’m proud to call him one of my closest friends.”
“Do you know where he is right now?”
“At his town house, I would assume, or maybe in the country at one of his estates. If he is in town, I should take you there. You always hung on every word he said. Maybe he can talk you out of this foolishness.”
“You’re wrong, Father. He’s at the arena, waiting to feed the lions because he won’t deny his belief that Jesus is Lord and God. His oldest son betrayed him to get possession of the family fortune. If you go to the games today, you might see him die.”
His father’s jaw dropped as his eyes narrowed. “How do you know this?”
“I spent a long time with him yesterday trying to understand why he would choose to follow Jesus when it was going to get him killed. I even offered to bribe his way out of the prison to save him. He chose to die. I didn’t understand why then, but I do now, after last night.”
“Last night? You spent all last night taking that Christian girl.”
“No. She slept. I only stood watch for a few hours to make sure no one touched her. It was after I got home that I met Jesus, right here in my room.”
His father swung his arm sideways as if to sweep away Decimus’s words.
“I’ve heard enough of this nonsense. You can’t do this. You’ll disgrace our family name. You’re my only living son. You’re destined to become a great Roman. I will not let you risk that.”
“I no longer want to be a great Roman. I can’t enjoy the murder of innocents as entertainment. I can’t sacrifice to Caesar or the Roman gods anymore. There’s a much better life following Jesus.”
His father’s jaw clenched as his eyes smoldered. “You’re talking utter nonsense. There is no better life than being a Roman. The gods aren’t real, so those sacrifices don’t mean anything beyond loyalty to Rome. No one can meet what doesn’t exist in his own bedchamber. To think you did is insane. If you won’t give up this foolishness, you’ll destroy yourself. No Lentulus can ever become a Christian. You’ll destroy not only yourself, but me as well if you continue like this.”
“It’s not foolishness, and I can never return to what I was before, to what I wanted before. Let me explain to you more, and you’ll see why I’m choosing a better way. There’s nothing that would make me happier than for you to join me in this decision.”
Decimus had watched the anger building in his father’s eyes. His fury was now beyond anything Decimus had ever seen before.
“I’ve been a defender of Rome against her enemies all my life. The followers of this Jesus refuse to worship Caesar. They are dangerous to the Empire. If you insist on being one, you will have betrayed Rome. You will have disgraced our noble family. You will have disgraced me. It can never be known that you even wanted to make this choice. I won’t have you arrested and tried. That would reveal the disgrace to all, and I cannot have that happen. You must stop this right now, before it goes any further.”
His father ran his hand through his hair again and locked blazing eyes on Decimus.
“I’ve always honored you, Father, and I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t turn back. There’s only one way to life, and Jesus is it.”
“So be it. If you are so determined to be what I’ve been trying to crush my whole life, that’s the end. I have no son. I can’t have this horrible truth about you revealed. This is the last chance I’ll give you to abandon this insanity and come back to your senses. If you insist on being a Christian, you can leave this house without me reporting you, but you can never return.”
The mixture of fury and coldness in his father’s eyes signaled the end of the discussion. The red-hot lava had turned to black basalt. Father would listen no more.
Decimus drew a deep breath. “I understand, but I’m sorry you think we must part this way. I don’t want us to end like this, but I’ll leave if that’s what you really want.”
He paused, hoping his father would tell him he didn’t mean what he’d just said, but Father stood in stony silence with anger still simmering in his eyes.
Decimus offered a half-smile, tinged with sadness. “I love you, Father, and I’ll be praying for you. Goodbye.”
He turned and walked out of the room.
It was so ironic. He’d been rejected by one of the people he cared about most because he didn’t follow Jesus. He’d now been rejected by another because he did.
Chapter 50: A Father’s Choice
Tiberius watched his only son walk away from him.
His grief had been so deep when he was told his son was lost and presumed dead. Then his son had been unexpectedly restored to him...but not really. Decimus had returned a different man. The son he lost had never returned at all.
He began pacing again. As his anger cooled, regret and sadness grew in its place. How could this have happened? Why had his son pushed him into disowning him? He never meant their argument to go that far. Decimus was the most important thing in the world to him―more important than Rome, more important than family honor, more important than his own life.
Decimus had made a fatal choice. As senatorial tribune, he was already an important man. It was impossible to keep his decision to be a Christian secret. As soon as it became known in Rome, he would be arrested and tried. He would be dead within a week. If he returned to the legion as tribune and his new faith became known, Tiberius’s own decree against the Christians could lead to his son’s arrest and death if the new governor didn’t rescind it. How could he bear being responsible for the execution of his own son?
Announcing Decimus’s death before his return to the legion was the only way to ensure he wouldn’t die. After the announcement, he would never be able to stay anywhere near Rome where someone might recognize him and reveal the lie.
To save his son’s life, he must lose his son again.
The fewer people who knew, the better. No slaves were in the room while they argued. No one heard Decimus declare he was now a Christian. No one knew but him.
There was one man he could trust, one man who would never reveal the secret.
Tiberius was still pacing when a kitchen slave entered the room to clear away the remains of breakfast.
“Find Graecus and send him to my bedchamber immediately.”
“Yes, master.” The slave bowed and hurried out to find the steward who had been
responsible for all Tiberius’s property while he was serving in Germania Superior. He could trust Graecus with anything, even the future of his son. With Graecus, he would figure out how to save Decimus and help him start a new life.
Decimus stood by the window in his bedchamber, watching a slave pluck the faded flowers so new ones would grow.
He hadn’t known exactly what to expect from the discussion with his father, but he hadn’t expected what happened.
He had no regrets about his decision to follow Jesus. Everything that happened last night convinced him there was no other choice. Still, he was sorry Father had disowned him and ordered him to leave. He did regret that he would never see his father again.
He’d hoped to have some time to figure out what he was going to do next, but he wouldn’t have that luxury now. He was still a tribune, and that posed a huge problem. He was only five years into his ten-year term of service. The new governor expected him to return to the legion in Mogontiacum. He could be a Christian and still fulfill many of his duties. Serving in Germania removed the problem of having to sacrifice at the temples in Rome. His absence there was sure to be noticed and an explanation demanded. But camp worship was mandatory for the enlisted men. How was it possible to avoid that?
The new governor might not be as determined to exterminate Christians as Father had been. But if he didn’t rescind the decree, there was another huge problem. Decimus was the one who sent troops out to arrest Christians for their faith. He couldn’t do that and not reveal that he was one, too.
He was still looking out the window when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to find Graecus approaching.
“I’m glad to see you. I’d hoped to have a chance to tell you goodbye, but I was afraid you might have gone to check the estates before Father makes his tour.”
Decimus’s lips tightened as he fought a sigh. “I’ll be leaving for Germania Superior in a few minutes. Father has disowned me and ordered me to leave.”