A Week in the Life of Rome

by James L. Papandrea

  “What’s this?” One of the gladiators looked Peter up and down. Philologus scanned the group. He could see Narcissus’s men standing behind the gladiators. He looked around for a way out.

  One of Narcissus’s men said, “We heard there were some Judeans trying to sneak into the city. I think these must be them, no?”

  The leader of the gladiators put his hand on his sword. “Must be.”

  7

  THE DAY OF THE SUN

  BEFORE THE GLADIATOR COULD draw his sword, a large hand slapped down onto his wrist and gripped it tightly. The gladiator winced in pain as the meaty hand squeezed. The hand had a tattoo on it—four letters across the four fingers of the fist: S. P. Q. R. It was the hand of a centurion.

  The centurion said, “These aren’t the ones you’re looking for. Now move along, barleymen.”

  The gladiators looked at the centurion. Then they looked at the squad of soldiers behind him. Then they took their hands off their swords and walked away.

  The centurion walked up to Peter. He stared at Peter, then he smiled.

  Peter smiled and said, “Cornelius!” The two men gave each other a bear hug and kissed each other’s cheeks. “Cornelius, my friend, I didn’t know you were in Rome!”

  “I just dropped anchor. Pudens said there might be trouble. Allow me to escort you.”

  Peter looked at Cornelius’s hands. “I see the legionary tattoo. But what’s that on your other hand? V. P. M. S. What does that stand for?”

  Cornelius smiled. “It stands for Vade Post Me Satana.”

  Peter shook his head. “‘Get behind me, Satan.’ Thanks for the reminder of Iesua’s rebuke.”

  “Relax, Peter,” Cornelius said, as he started walking in the direction of Pudens’s house. “It’s not personal. It wasn’t really about you then, and it’s not about you now. Just a little reminder to myself that the real battle is not against flesh and blood. But I’m impressed you were able to translate that so quickly. Your Latin is pretty good.”

  “Ever since Pentecost.”

  The morning prayer gathering at Pudens’s house was buzzing with excitement, and it was difficult to keep everyone quiet. Many Way-followers from the other gatherings had come to Pudens’s house, and the presence of both Peter and Cornelius was making it hard to get everyone to settle down.

  Peter finally got their attention and said, “Everyone, I want to introduce you to a friend of ours, Cornelius. He is one of the first non-Judeans to become a believer, so he knows what it’s like for most of you, who have been grafted onto the family tree, so to speak. Cornelius, this is Anacletus. He’s our leader this morning.”

  Cletus shook Cornelius’s hand. “Call me Cletus. Peter, are you sure you don’t want to lead?”

  “No, just pretend I’m not here.”

  Cletus smiled. “I’m sure that’s not possible.”

  After the prayer meeting, the shepherds of all four gatherings met with Peter, along with the other leaders of the Way-followers in Rome. Marcus, Linus, Cletus, and Apelles were there, as were the deacons Philologus, Ampliatus, and young Clemens, as well as Julia and Prisca. Peter gathered them close. Scrap hid behind a curtain to hear what Peter was saying.

  “Brothers and sisters, it’s good to be back in Rome. Thank you for watching over the flock while I was away. I bring good news from Jerusalem and the other apostles.”

  Evangelization and

  Conversion in the Early Church

  The early church was not a “seeker sensitive” kind of experience. Especially during times of persecution, early Christians might have been suspicious of anyone who walked in off the street claiming to want to join. In fact, it’s hard to imagine anyone asking to join the church without first knowing church members intimately.

  Conversion in the early church was through relationships. We have to remember that in the Greco-Roman world, people didn’t generally think of themselves as individuals the way we do today. And for those of us who live in the United States, with concepts such as personal freedom, human rights, and the possibility that one person can “make a difference” in the world, it may be hard for us to understand that none of those things would have seemed possible for anyone but the “one percent.” The Roman personality was formed as part of a group, and so a Roman person’s identity was not as an individual but as a member of a group—usually a family, but then also as a part of other connections, including patron-client networks, trade guilds, sports-team factions, and, yes, religious cults. This means that conversion into a religious movement was generally not an individual decision—or if it was the decision of the head of a household, it affected the whole household.

  Add to this the fact that for Christianity, a decision to join also meant a commitment to abandon all Greco-Roman religious loyalties, and we can see that almost no one would have joined the church without bringing a support system along. This means that in the early years of Christianity, most of the conversions were conversions of families, who were then drawn into the larger family of the church. The church became their new extended family—often replacing the actual extended family that may have ostracized them.

  For more information on the growth of Christianity in the early centuries, read the works of Rodney Stark, especially The Rise of Christianity (Princeton University Press, 1996) and Cities of God (HarperOne, 2007).

  “Only good news?” Philologus seemed worried.

  “Yes, Philologus, only good news. Why? Does my arrival come with a dark cloud?” And then the smile left Peter’s face as he remembered the first time he arrived in Rome, coming with the news of the death of James. “Oh, right. Well, thank the Lord, nothing like that. Now I know you’ve heard about the council, but there’s something I didn’t say in my letter. I wanted to tell you in person.”

  The group was silent, ears at attention.

  “We have agreed that from now on we are to call ourselves . . . Christians.”

  Everyone spoke at once. “Not Way-followers?” “What does it mean?” “What is a Christian?”

  Prisca said, “I understand. Christians. Because we are followers, not only of the way of the Lord, but we are followers of the Lord himself. He is the way. Christian means followers of the Christos.”

  “Yes, but it means more than that,” Peter said excitedly. “Remember that Christos means ‘one who is anointed.’ So just as Iesua is the Anointed One, the Messiah, we as Christians are also anointed by God and adopted as God’s sons and daughters.”

  More chatter from the group. “Christians.” “We’re Christians.”

  Peter continued, “We now have four thriving gatherings in Rome, each with over fifteen baptized believers at the table. And someday, when Judeans are allowed to come back to Rome, the gathering at Prisca’s shop will make five. And we’re growing. That means it’s no longer going to be practical for the deacons to be runners, taking the Thanksgiving Bread from one gathering to the rest. So I’m giving all of the shepherds—Marcus, Linus, Cletus, and Apelles—the authority to preside over the prayers that consecrate the Thanksgiving Bread. So then each gathering will have its own presider, who will function as the paterfamilias of that group of Christians. He will watch over his flock, and he will say the prayers over the bread and wine. The deacons—Philologus, young Clemens, Ampliatus—you men will assist in the serving. You will still take the Thanksgiving Bread out to any who are sick or who cannot be at the gathering, and you will care for the sick and let the shepherds know who is in need. And if a woman is sick, and there is no man in her house to chaperone, then the women will go out and care for her. Susannah will be a guide for the women, and I need you ladies also to keep your ears open to any who might be in need and let the shepherds know. If our Lord brings to our attention anyone who is sick or starving—if we can help them, we should. Even if they’re not Christians. And if any of our number should die, Philologus will be in charge of the burials.”

  Marcus spoke up. “But you will be here, too, Peter. Right?”


  “I will, Marcus,” Peter answered. “I’ll stay in Rome as long as I can, and I’ll share the ministry in Pudens’s house, since his gathering is the largest.” Peter paused in thought for a moment. “I remember one of the last conversations I had with our Lord. He asked me whether I loved him. And then he told me to take care of his sheep. So, just as Iesua is the Good Shepherd over us all, the flock of each gathering of the church needs a shepherd. Just as God is our Father, each gathering needs a housefather. We need this structure for several reasons. We need it so that every baptized believer will have access to the sacred mystery of the Thanksgiving Bread. And we need it so that we can make sure that the teachings Iesua gave us are faithfully and truthfully handed down from one generation to the next. And finally, we need it so that we will be able to take care of those who are sick or hungry or imprisoned.”

  Marcus asked, “Is Paul coming to Rome?”

  “Not anytime soon,” Peter answered. “He’s concentrating on going to places where there are no Christians yet, where people don’t know about Iesua. And, to his credit, he said he didn’t want to step on my toes by coming to Rome and trying to build on the foundation I’ve laid. He’ll come eventually, I’m sure. He wants to go to Spain, so he’s going to have to come through Rome at some point.”

  When the meeting broke up, Peter took Stachys aside. He put his hand on Stachys’s shoulder and gripped it as he looked Stachys in the eyes. “Stachys, I’ll get right to the point. We’re going to need another deacon. Marcus says you’re ready for baptism, so are you up for it?”

  Stachys was stunned for a moment. “I’m sorry, Peter.” Stachys shook his head. “Marcus has no idea. He means well, but I am not ready for baptism. You don’t know what I’ve been through.”

  “I heard a little about it. But it sounds like you’ve turned a corner with your faith. From what I hear, it sounds like you’re ready to make the commitment to live as a Christian.”

  Stachys couldn’t look Peter in the eye. “It’s not that. I can make that commitment now. But you don’t know . . . what I did. What I said.”

  “Sit down here.” Peter gestured toward a bench. Stachys sat down on the bench, and Peter sat next to him. Stachys thought that Peter was sitting a little too close for comfort. Peter leaned in toward Stachys and whispered, “Tell me.”

  Stachys didn’t feel ready to talk about it. But deep down he knew he needed to tell someone. “The first time . . . when they asked if I was a Way-follower . . . I said no. I denied being part of the family, so how can I ask to be initiated to the family’s table?”

  Peter smiled. “Oh, Stachys. You couldn’t know this, but I once asked the same question.” Peter’s tone of voice changed as his eyes suddenly became red and watery. “Even though I walked with him on the water . . . briefly. Even though I had all the proof I should need for my faith to be solid as a rock, I still denied him. Not once but three times. At the very time when Iesua needed friends the most, I said I was not his friend. Stachys, I know what it’s like to be afraid. And I know what it’s like to act out of fear and say and do things that later made me ashamed and horrified to think that it was I who did and said those things. But Iesua forgave me. He had compassion on my weakness. And look at me now, sailing all over the empire as his ambassador. If I can be an apostle, surely you can be a deacon.”

  “But do you really want me? There must be others more qualified.”

  “Stachys, sometimes the ones who needed the most forgiveness are the ones who are the most grateful and become the most enthusiastic ambassadors of our Lord. And I’ll tell you something else. Before his ascension he gave me and the other apostles the authority to forgive sins in his name—to go and find his lost lambs and bring them back to the flock. So in the name of Iesua, I release you from your sin, freeing you to serve him. And I seal you with the sign of his passion, the once-and-for-all sacrifice for the forgiveness of all who claim him as their Lord.” Peter used his thumb to trace a small cross on Stachys’s forehead. “And as soon as you are baptized, you will be one of the deacons of the church at Rome.”

  In the afternoon, all of the Christians of Rome gathered at the River Tiber, just south of the cattle market, near the Greek Quarter. The sun was bright but not hot. The breeze was cool and healing. Peter waded into the shallow part of the river near the bank and motioned for the catechumens to follow him. Stachys, dressed in a new white tunic, was the first to move down into the water. He was followed by a few families with their children and several others. Stachys was suddenly hit by the gravity of what was about to take place, and he felt like he needed more time to prepare for it, so he stepped aside to let the others go first.

  When it was finally his turn, Stachys walked up to Peter, the cold waters of the Tiber swirling past his thighs. He bowed his head, and Peter put one hand on Stachys’s head and the other on his shoulder. “Stachys,” Peter began, “Do you believe in the one true God, and no others?”

  “I do.”

  “Do you believe that there is no salvation but through his unique Son, Iesua the Christos, and that there is no other name under heaven by which we may hope to be saved?”

  “I do.”

  “Do you believe that he conquered death by dying and inaugurated the resurrection by rising from death?”

  “I do.”

  Peter gently pushed Stachys down into a kneeling position. The cold water was now up to Stachys’s shoulders. “Stachys, I baptize you in the name of the Father . . . and of the Son . . . and of the Holy Spirit . . . as our Lord Iesua commanded us to do.” With each of the names of the persons of the Trinity, Peter pushed Stachys’s head underwater, then pulled him up again by the back of his tunic. Maria was smiling so hard her face was starting to hurt. But she didn’t care. This was the day she had been waiting for.

  Then Peter put both of his hands on Stachys’s shoulders. “Stachys, receive the Holy Spirit.”

  When the baptisms were done, and all of the newly baptized Christians were confirmed in the faith with the gift of the Holy Spirit, Peter addressed the group. He could see a small crowd gathering behind the Christians as onlookers stopped to see what they were doing. He recognized this as a chance to plant the seeds of faith in whoever might be listening.

  “Brothers and sisters,” he shouted. “The one true God sent his Son into the world to offer forgiveness and reconciliation. All he asks is that you turn to him in faith and remain faithful to him alone. When you do this, and are initiated to his table in the way we have done here today, you receive two gifts: forgiveness of your sins and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. These gifts will lead you to salvation and eternal life. This is the promise that the one true God has made to you, and to your children.”

  As Peter led the newly baptized Christians out of the river, the first to congratulate Stachys was Ampliatus. He grabbed Stachys’s hand and shook it vigorously. “Welcome to the Lord’s table . . . brother.”

  Stachys sighed and smiled. He returned the handshake. “Thank you . . . brother.”

  “Pardon me,” Maria said with a tear in her eye. “May I give my husband a kiss?”

  For the rest of the day, Peter visited all four of the active home gatherings, talking to as many of the people as possible and asking everyone to spread the word that the evening agapē meal and worship would be for all of the Christians of Rome, all together at the house of Senator Pudens. While he was at Stachys and Maria’s house he blessed the unions of Stachys and Maria and of Philologus and Julia.

  Sabina watched the couples as Peter blessed them. She squeezed Urbanus’s arm. When it was over she whispered to him, “I want that. I want that kind of marriage. Not a contract, but that . . . what did he call it? One flesh. Where I have only you, and you have only me. And we don’t have to worry that one of us is going to leave if a better match comes along. Is there any way we could have that?”

  Urbanus turned to face his wife. “My dear, you’re the one who married beneath your status. If anyone were going to worr
y, it would be me. But the truth is, I don’t think we’re going to have any choice in the matter. That’s the kind of union that’s expected of these Way-followers. It will be expected of us . . . when we join them.”

  That evening, Pudens’s atrium was overflowing with joyful people, all excited to have Peter among them again. They milled around as Peter walked through the group greeting old friends and meeting new ones. Urbanus and Sabina arrived with their daughters, Tryphaena and Tryphosa. After a while Pudens called everyone together and welcomed them to his home, and then led the group into his private auditorium, where he often read to his household or sponsored lectures. The walls were painted with colorful and elaborate patterns of garlands and geometric designs. An expensive-looking chair with a back on it was placed at the front of the room on a platform, with a curtain behind it. The men gathered on the left side of the room, and the women and children on the right.

  Peter deferred to Linus, who led the opening prayer. After the prayer, Maria chanted, “Lord, have mercy,” and the whole group echoed back the words.

  Then Peter nodded to Marcus, who took up his scroll and began to open it. Marcus said, “I’m so glad our brother Peter is back in Rome. As you know, I’ve been working on writing the story of the time when Iesua was with his disciples. I call it The Memoirs of Peter. But I can’t finish it without more help from the man himself.”

  Peter interrupted him. “Brother Marcus, please don’t call it The Memoirs of Peter. My name should not be in the title. It’s not really about me. I hope you’re including as many of the stories about Iesua as you can, so if anything, it’s the memoirs of all the apostles.”

  Marcus nodded humbly and began to read:

  Iesua took Peter, James, and John and led them up a high mountain apart by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no fuller on earth could bleach them. Then Elijah appeared to them, along with Moses, and they were talking with Iesua. Then Peter said to Iesua, “Teacher, it is good that we are here. We will make three tents: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” He didn’t know what he was saying because they were so terrified. Then a cloud came, and overshadowed them. Then a voice came from the cloud, saying, “This is my beloved Son, listen to him.”