by Paulo Barata
Year 58
The disturbances did not dampen. Accusations multiplied in the council, and there was little to be done. We had days with unruly mobs gathering in front of the house. Judaeans came to protest, and Gentiles to demonstrate, and vice-versa. Ioanis, afraid for my security, recruited some more guards, and I could hardly step outside unmolested. In the midst of all that, Felix publicly admonished the Judaeans, calling for moderation and threatening to unleash the Pretorian guards.
Soon enough came the accusations, trials and punishments. Some were lashed in public squares, and the older were banished from the city, and even from the province itself. Not by chance, these were usually the wealthier, treated as criminals, their properties confiscated by the Pretorium. And the more we knew of these actions, the more the mobs resorted to violence.
The Quaestor, Helvidius Priscus, still in the city, eventually called the representatives of the various communities to a meeting. Unfortunately, I was one of the summoned. After long hours of bickering, with Felix strangely silent, Priscus interrupted the boisterous gathering.
“Honorabiles!” intervened in his orator’s voice, ”Please calm down!”
Ensuring that he had everyone’s attention, he continued.
“It is too obvious that we are not going to resolve these disputes by ourselves. I am aware of your general complaints,” and staring at the more vociferous of us, “but I am not content with the individual issues of your communities. The truth is that this city is in an ever growing state of anarchy and chaos.”
Surely, Felix was not pleased to hear that, and it showed on his face.
“I am now in Judaea, as you know, by the request and command of the Senate of Rome. Now, it is my command that a delegation be formed to accompany me to Rome, so that you may submit your issues to the Senate or, if need be, to the Emperor himself. Rome cannot allow this state of anarchy to go on much longer. By tomorrow morning, I want your communities to elect delegates and notify me of their names. It is all for now. You are dismissed.”
On my way out from the palace, Adad, who had also attended the meeting, came up to me.
“Ahasver, a word if I may” and drew me out from the group.
“Yes, Adad?”
“Will you be going to Rome?”
“I don’t know. We are now going to discuss that.”
“But it is only natural that you be one of the selected. You are a good speaker of latin. There aren’t many Judaeans who speak it so well as you”
“It won’t be because of that. I’m sure they have translators in Rome.”
“I think you will be chosen.”
“Are you going?” I asked.
“Me? I don’t want to. Leave my businesses, waste a few months to be heard for five minutes? It won’t solve much.”
“Why not? What do you really know of this decision by the Quaestor?”
“It is rumored that he will be asking for the dismissal of Felix. After all, not even all that has been expropriated so far is enough to cover the shortfall in the public treasury.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do not ask me, and I won’t have to lie to you” and regretting his words he quickly went on his way.
There it was! Could that have been the reason for the disturbances? Was it all just a way for Felix to recover what was missing from the treasury? All the complaints, the rioting, the deaths and the banishments. All orchestrated by Felix, for his own personal gain? If it was true, then some of our citizens, thinking of the Greeks and Syrians, also had a hand on it.
Encouraged by Priscus’s apparent authority over Felix, my colleagues were now absolutely convinced of the importance of this mission to Rome for our cause. I tried to curb their enthusiasm, as I remembered the conversation with Adad, but to no avail. And as predicted, I was one of the proposed nominees for that mission. If, on the one hand, I was skeptical about the all thing, I also had to admit that I was willing to take the time and the effort to see Rome.
As soon as the names were made known to Priscus, he sent for me.
“Quaestor” I greeted him when we met later in the afternoon of the following day.
“Master Ahasver.”
Priscus was the very first Roman Senator I had ever met, and his garments, more than his aspect, clearly showed his rank and status, sporting a toga of snowy white cotton, red stripes embroidered in his tunic and red shoes. He was not a tall man, his hair was also sparse, and he had an unusual short beard. He used his voice well to gain attention, certainly tuned by the many sessions of public oratory in that most exalted institution to which he belonged
“Master Ahasver, I thank you for coming over so promptly. I promise not to take too much of your time.”
“Quaestor, I am at your service” I answered, as if I had any saying or alternative to his summons.
“I called you here to inform you that I have chosen you to be part of the delegation. Just you. I am aware that your council selected a few names, but I prefer to take only one member from each community. I am a firm believer that a single voice of reason and pragmatism is more efficient than the emotional clamor of a crowd. Besides, I am too aware of all your efforts in the past to curb some of the extreme elements in your own community. Also, I have no doubt that your case must be presented to the senate. I do believe that your community has suffered enough under this government.”
“I do understand and thank you for your words, Quaestor. I just did what any conscientious citizen would do.”
“Indeed. I can see why some call you a philosopher.”
“They exaggerate, Quaestor. Far from that. I merely have an inquisitive mind” it seemed that I had been investigated. Trust the Romans to be thorough.
“Well, I hope that during our journey we can talk some more. These sea voyages are most monotonous.”
“It will be my privilege, Quaestor.”
We still exchanged a few more words, specifically in regard to details concerning the trip, and I got the permission from Priscus to engage a secretary, thinking of Alexander, my usual companion on these grand voyages. I just had to persuade Ioanis to prescind of his son, lately one of his main helpers.
And there was Ruth.
“Ahasver,” she said when I went to say my goodbyes, “what about Saul? I have no news of him. The guards are not allowing any visitors anymore.”
“I didn’t even know that you were allowed to visit prisoners.”
“No? We thought you had arranged it.”
“No, I didn’t. You know how busy, and troubled have been these last few months.”
“No, I do not know. All this time and not a word of appeal from you to the Procurator?”
“I’m not exactly in very good terms with the Procurator.”
“No? But you have just been invited to go to Rome.”
“Not by the Procurator. By the Quaestor, I told you this.”
“I see.”
But evidently, she did not.
“When do you leave?”
“In a few days time. Soon after Shabbat, I believe.”
“Won’t it be dangerous, Ahasver? Such a long voyage.”
“There are always risks, but we are going under the Senate’s protection and in a military ship. It will be a fast trip.”
“And this Quaestor? Couldn’t you speak to him about Saul?”
Couldn’t she think of anything else ?
“I will try, I will try to speak with him,” ambiguous once again, “but I am not optimistic. There is Felix.”
“But doesn’t a Quaestor carry more authority than a Procurator?”
“Yes, in some matters. But the Procurator still commands the military.”
“Do try, Ahasver. Saul is not well.”
“He is better there than he was in Jerusalem,” one had to be positive, “or don’t you agree?”
“We just cannot understand why they don’t take him to trial.”
“I don’t know either” I was growing tired of t
hat indefatigable haranguing for Saul’s sake.
“I am just talking, Ahasver. You might not look it, but you are getting old and querulous,” and she went on, “and what is this story I hear about your family being descendants of the prophet Abraham?”
“My family?" I feigned some surprise and hid a smile. After all my tactics were paying off, although invoking Abraham as an ancestor was a bit more than I had wanted “And where did you hear such nonsense?”
“It’s all over town.”
“Very strange. How these people like to make up such trite. Who has ever heard me say such a thing?”
“I don’t know, Ahasver. But it’s going around.”
“A mystery, Ruth. It can only be some lunatic, or someone out to harm me. You know how the Kohanim get edgy with such things, and if they hear about it I can be criticized. I’m glad you told me.”
I certainly had to correct that reference and find some other possible and less known ancestor for my purposes.
We set sail on the day after the trireme arrived at the harbor. The weather was pleasant and not too windy, and the 120 rowers on board soon placed us beyond the sight of land. On board, besides the crew and some military personnel, was the delegation and the Quaestor, with his usual retinue of servants and secretaries. Priscus, trying to put an end to any questions of favoritism to one or another group, had only allowed that each community be represented by a single delegate. And given that the space on the ship was limited, I shared my quarters with Alexander.
Although adversaries in the defense of our own interests, my other colleagues proved to be pleasant companions, some even tried to convince Alexander as to the justness of their complaints. But with no success. Alexander was not interested in taking sides, and after befriending one of the Greek helmsmen, he spent much of the journey learning about the steering, the stars and of Rome. Knowledge that he used to share with me during meal times.
Priscus seldom appeared on deck during the day time, preferring to pass it in his quarters. I think he had some problems with nausea and seasickness. However, when the sea was calm and hidden in the darkness of the night, he would come up and join us by one of the braziers that the sailors used to light on the deck.
Priscus was above all else, a genuine pedagogue. If anyone asked his opinion on any subject, he would gladly share his knowledge. But he was also a curious soul, a trait that he claimed to admire in others. A sure sign of a shrewd mind and a versatile intellect, as he claimed. And these talks were usually held in Greek, as few were sufficiently familiar with latin to find the right words needed for the various topics. It was thus that I learned of the customs of the patricians of Rome, of the equestrian order, of the worship of Mithra adopted mainly by the military, and of the sacrifices of sacred bulls to Jupiter.
We spoke of our voyages and discoveries, adventures and incidents were retold, the charms and wonder of far away places were described in flowery languages, and of the mysteries that were practiced by secluded cultures and distant civilizations. And each one of us spoke of our own culture and its achievements.
The Greeks praised their own learning and their accomplishments in the arts, sciences and philosophy.
The Syrians, proud of their voyages of exploration, invoked the glory and the extension of their former empire, once spread from the pillars of Hercules up to the Hellespont.
The Persians described the splendor of the palaces of Persepolis and Ctesiphon, the hanging gardens of Babylon and of the ziggurats that rose up to the clouds.
The Egyptians exalted the grandeur of their river cities, grandiose temples and the millenary antiquity of pharaonic dynasties, forever immortalized in colossal statuary and in tombs of awe-inspiring architecture.
And me? Well, I spoke of the indefatigable perseverance of Moses, of the wars in the land of Canaan and of the founding of our kingdom. I gave examples of the wisdom of Solomon, builder of the most magnificent temple of his age. But it always sounded too little when compared with the deeds and achievements of the others.
But, independently of anyone’s opinion or passion, Priscus would not allow these talks to divert into political and religious themes, knowing all too well how such matters could quickly put an end to these cordial conversations, usually accompanied with the soft rhythmic drumming of the rowers in nights lit by the milky glow of the myriad stars that accompanied us.
After several days of sailing, following the course of the sun, we came upon the immensity of the arid coast of Africa, dotted with small hamlets where occasionally one could discern some larger rustic constructions. It was the desert that we were now seeing in that horizon of opaque honey, a sea of sand, of dunes and of impenetrable clouds. The land of thirst, as the sailors named it.
Coming ever more tangent to the coastline, new bluffs and promontories rose before our eyes, whipped by relentless and thunderous waves that gave way to secluded coves and expansive beaches. Soon we were in front of the moles of the harbor of Apollonia, where a run-down theatre could be seen on our left side, and a lighthouse towered over the granaries and warehouses on our right. We had now completed half the journey to Rome.
Following on Priscus’s orders, our stay in the port was brief, just sufficient to replenish our water and food supplies, and with dusk approaching, we were once more sailing in high seas, now pursuing the Cynosure towards the Italic peninsula and Rome.
Luck and fortune continued to accompany us, the sea was calm, and a gentle wind, born in the crucible of the desert, filled the square sails and pushed us northwards. The drumming stopped for some days.
“Salve Quaestor” I greeted Priscus, surprised to find him so early in the morning on deck.
“Master Ahasver, the auspices are excellent!”
“The auspices?” I asked, intrigued by that statement. Had he been consulting with his gods?
“Ah, Master Ahasver, It seems you are an unbeliever in omens. Look over there,” pointing to the sky, where a distant bird could be seen, “you know what kind of bird that is?”
“I cannot say at this distance. But it looks like a bird of prey, given its long wingspan.”
“Yes, it is! A fish eagle, I would say. An omen, certainly.”
“A good one, you believe.”
“Oh yes, Jupiter himself is protecting and guiding us.”
“That’s reassuring,” I remarked casually, “and are you feeling better?”
“Always perceptive, my friend. And yes, I am indeed. The first few days at sea are always difficult for me. I am a man of the land, of farming, of husbandry…”
“And of the Senate, too” I added jokingly.
Smiling, he grabbed my arm, and he drove me towards an awning, close to the bow, where chairs had been laid about.
“Let us sit for a moment before your colleagues arrive. I would like to speak with you.”
“Of course, Quaestor.”
“Master Ahasver, I have wanted to speak alone with you for some time, as I need to confess something. I know you are not going to be pleased with what I have to say, but I also hope that you will understand my motives.”
“Please do, Quaestor” I encouraged him, surprised with such candor.
“A few weeks after I arrived in Caesarea, it was clear to me that the Procurator had to be replaced. It came to my knowledge the various ruses, the extortions and other money grubbing tricks practiced by him and his entourage, not to mention some more serious acts committed against the city. More so against your people,” and he continued, “But you have to understand that my mandate only covers the auditing of administrative and fiscal affairs. Whom the Senate appoints, only the Senate or the Emperor may exonerate.”
“Are you saying that this mission was set to testify before the Senate on the procurator’s misdeeds?”
“Well deduced, Master Ahasver. But only if I cannot convince my colleagues of this need, or if they demand more conclusive evidence. Only then will I call on this delegation.”
“You mean, we migh
t not even go before the Senate?”
“Yes.”
“And the problems, the civic unrest in Caesarea? All that violence and mayhem that you witnessed there?”
“Those can easily be solved with the severe application of the law.”
“But, why hasn’t it happen yet?” I asked perplexed with such a seemingly simple solution.
“Because I believe that Felix is behind all that. And as long as he stays in charge, those issues won’t be resolved.”
“Have you spoken of this to my other colleagues?”
“Not yet. I’m telling you now because you are in a particular predicament. I know that all your colleagues believe that the Judaeans are at the root and the leading cause of all these troubles in your city.”
“Is that your opinion too, Quaestor?”
“Partially. I do know you are a most querulous people in some situations. But I think you were provoked into acting the way you did. But if the Senate hears the others, I fear that your community may lose some privileges and might even be heavily fined for misconduct.”
“I understand.”
“But as I have said, I hope it will not come to that.”
As we were still alone, we continued to speak of other matters. Priscus recounted the time he spent in Greece, as Quaestor in Patras, on the northern coast of the Peloponnese peninsula. I mentioned my trip to Alexandria, which he had also visited, of Antioch, which he did not know, and of Jerusalem, which he would have liked to visit.
“Quaestor,” I asked, “what can you briefly tell me of Rome. Not of the city itself, but of the main customs and the temperament of its citizens. I admit that I am a bit curious and anxious.”
“But why, Master Ahasver. There is nothing for you to fear in Rome.”
“Quaestor, as children, we learned to fear Rome. Do not misunderstand me, but after all, Rome is the mother city of our conquerors.”
“Your enemy, you mean?”
“I wouldn’t say that much, but there are many who do, as I’m sure you know. Didn’t you also come across this feeling in Greece?”
“I understand, but I would like you to think of Rome as a protective mother, sheltering and accepting all peoples. Master Ahasver, we are above all else, the guarantors of peace and progress. Pax romana is not an empty cliché. You are an educated man, a man who has read history, who has traveled and seen other cultures, and I am sure you have read some texts that described how the world was before Rome. Incessant wars, eternal disputes for lands smaller than my farm, the fratricides, the barbarous deeds committed in the name of unscrupulous gods and egotistical ideologies.”
“A truly stoic vision, if I may say,” I said it smiling, “and all that in exchange for innumerable taxes and levies.”
“You may be right, and yours is a true mercantilist vision, worthy of a merchant, I would say. But I think you will agree with me that commerce is a bulwark for peace. Enemies don’t trade with one another.”
“Undeniable your argument, Quaestor.”
“Your problem, Ahasver, the problem with the Judaeans, is your inflexibility. Your reluctance in accepting the cultural differences of others, your negation in adapting to the world around you. I saw that very clearly in Achaea, this isolation of the Judaeans. It is not because the others reject you, but because of your own desire and efforts to remain apart.”
“We have our customs, Quaestor, just as the Romans have theirs, and the Greeks. We want to preserve them, not to lose our identity. Is that so hard to accept?”
“Pride, Ahasver, immeasurable pride with your faith and your one god, that’s what I think. I met some Judaeans, not just in Patras but also in Rome, who very conceitedly explained to me that you are the only chosen people in this world. By your own god, of course. But then, I ask, if only yourselves follow this god, who else could he have chosen?”
“Maybe the Romans, Quaestor" and we both smiled.
But suddenly, we both realized that we were now entering the so fragile issue of religion, and desisted to proceed further. Also, some of my colleagues had now come up to the deck and were approaching us. But it had been, I thought, an interesting talk, and a very rare one, between a Judaean and a Roman. I was happy to have met Priscus, a most humorous, perceptive, tolerant and charming Senator.
“There, over there…” pointed Alexander, “Ahasver, can you see it?”
“I can see land.”
“No, Ahasver, more to the right.”
“A city?" I asked, half-blind with the clarity.
“Yes, I’m told it’s Syracuse. We’re arriving.”
“If it’s Syracuse, we are still far from Rome.”
“No so much…”
Gradually we came closer to the cliffs of a giant headland. The city, set on a peaceful and calm cove, shined brightly under that midday sun, and with no delay, the ship berthed unto the pier. Once more, Priscus did not allow anyone to disembark, and after seeing to the ship’s replenishment, we continued our journey, much to Alexander’s chagrin, as he would have liked to explore the city of Archimedes.
“Ahasver, how will we return home? In this ship too?”
“Maybe. I’ve never before travelled on the Senate’s business. We’ll have to see with Priscus.”
“I would have liked to visit some of these cities we passed on our way.”
After Syracuse, we soon reached the region of Messana, passing through a narrow strait where we could see on the other side the city of Rhegium and the rocky hills of ancient Bruttium. Now, I said to Alexander, we are seeing Italy.
Continuing northwards, now always in sight of land, the sailors pointed out the main sights, some too distant for us to see in much detail.
“Over there is Paestum, a city more Greek than Roman,” said one of them, “as you can see by the temples up on that hill.”
“Those rocks over there is the island of Capri” pointed Priscus, “From there Tiberius ruled the empire for many years. An abominable place!”
“Why, Quaestor?” asked Alexander, “It’s beautiful from here.”
“Well, the stories one hears of those days” but he did not venture more information.
“And that mountain, there, on the horizon?”
“That’s mount Vesuvius. Over there, by that bay, is the city of Neapolis.”
Now close to our final destination, Priscus called a meeting with everyone, to inform us of the proceedings and arrangements for our transportation to Rome, where we would be lodged in the Senate’s guesthouse.
Although prepared for the grandeur of Rome, I could not help being awed with the port of Portus and the city of Ostia.
“We are mooring in Portus,” explained Priscus, “it’s only a couple of leagues from Ostia. I am curious to see how the construction is progressing.”
“It’s a new harbor?” I asked.
“Yes, relatively new. It has been some time since I passed through here. For the trip to Caesarea I embarked in Antium, but I was here in the time of Claudius, when the building began, and although it has been officially dedicated by Nero, parts of it are not yet ready. You’ll see Ahasver, a truly magnificent undertaking.”
So it was. Two giant breakwaters with a lighthouse on one of its extremities, embraced a large lagoon where could be seen dozens of vessels, mainly cargo ships, awaiting for berthing space. The number of warehouses and granaries, clustered about the piers was astounding too. All looking very new, making a strong contrast between the reddish rooftops and their white facades, and in the center of the harbor, a colossal colonnade revealed a palace still under construction.
“Yes,” confirmed Priscus to Alexander, “one of the imperial residences.”
“But the harbor is full. Wont we have to wait our turn?”
“No, Alexander, we will be mooring over there, where the castrum is.”
“By those triremes?”
“Yes.”
But we still had to wait for another ship, a bireme, to leave and free some space for us.
Priscus, now wearing his senatorial attire, was saluted by an officer who had come on board with a small number of legionnaires. After a brief exchange, we were asked to disembark and were taken to one of the side buildings where Priscus asked us to wait for his return.
While we waited, they served us a light meal and some refreshments, very much within the custom of the military, nothing too tasty or too generous. I was anxious, not hungry, so some olives in wild sage oil and a cup of resinous wine were quite enough for me.
The sound of approaching hurried steps and the neigh of horses signaled the return of Priscus, and we were taken to a courtyard where some litters and carriages waited for us.
“All is now ready,” announced Priscus, “I’ve sent a messenger on to Rome announcing our arrival and also to prepare your quarters.”
“Where will we be staying, Senator?” someone in the group asked.
“In a guesthouse close to the forum and the curia.”
“The main forum of Rome?” asked Alexander.
“Yes, Alexander, in the center of the city. All of you are guests of the Senate, and therefore you will all stay in this house. Although you are not Roman citizens, you are under the protection of the Empire. Let us now go without further delay and see if we can reach the city before nightfall. You can use these litters, and your servants and the luggage can go on those carriages over there.
The litters, the biggest I had ever seen, were carried by mules and asses, and could easily take up to four or five passengers. Alexander, not being a servant, traveled with me, and since neither of our colleagues cared to join us in the same litter, we had plenty of room to spread out.
We left Portus, in the company of a small convoy of guards, headed for Ostia and the Via Ostiense, the main road to Rome. Priscus, surprising everyone, asked for a horse for himself, alleging that he needed the exercise after so many idle days spent on board the ship, riding most of the way by our side, pointing out the sights, and describing some of the buildings and their use to us.
“Ahasver,” said Alexander utterly awed by all we could see, “it’s magnificent!”
So it was. The center of Ostia was lined with marble temples, insulae built of sturdy brick and wood with several floors, marketplaces with the most unimaginable range of products, and the streets teeming with people of all colors and hues, going about their business in leisurely strolls. I could now understand the main purpose of our escort, shouting for the pedestrians to make way for our passage. But mostly we were ignored, although some of them were clearly amused by seeing an old Senator on a horse.
We arrived in Rome as the sun was almost setting, and with the sparse light of dusk, we could now hardly distinguish some of the main buildings, faintly reflecting the last rays of the day. Priscus abandoned his horse and climbed into our litter, and went on describing some of the larger shadowy edifices. The more lit parts of the city were now the insulae, even bigger and higher than the ones we had seen in Ostia, and in between the columns and porticoes, we could see people sitting down on long tables, where food and drinks were laid out.
“These are thermopolia and tabernae,” explained Priscus, “but heed my advice, don’t make use of them. They are dangerous places, more so for foreigners.”
“Why is that?”
“They are only used by the riffraff of the city. If you want to drink or eat, you should use the facilities at the guesthouse, or, on your walkabouts, you can go to the marketplaces to drink. But avoid eating out.”
“Senator,” I asked, “are there any Judaean temples in the city?”
“Of course there are, Ahasver. There’s one in Ostia that I know of. But I will get some information for you on that.”
“Is there a Judaean quarter or some particular part of town where they live?”
“I believe that the vast majority live on the Caelian hill, close to the Porta Capena.”
“Is it far from where we will be staying?” asked Alexander.
“Not too far and not too close, either. You can always hire a sedan chair or a litter, but once again please be careful, Rome is not Caesarea.”
No, evidently not.
The guesthouse where we were to remain was also an insula, but the whole building was in marble and not brick, and on the ground floor the porticoes were complemented with arcades and open spaces for leisurely activities and repose. The rooms were large and luxuriously appointed, and the servants were extremely helpful. Most were fluent in Greek too.
From our quarter’s window, we could see the rooftops of the temples of Jupiter and Minerva, and on the horizon, on top of a hill, large marbled buildings dominated the small vale of the forum. Those were the imperial residences.
In mid-morning, Priscus returned with a few officials, enquiring after our conditions and giving us some additional advice. He was on his way to see the Praetor responsible for the territories of the East and the Levant, and to set a timetable for his reporting to the Senate.
On his way out, he called me apart.
“Ahasver, later I’ll come around and we'll go to my house. I’m giving a small dinner this evening, and I would like for you to meet with some of my friends” and seeing my look of surprise, he added, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing too elaborate, just some friends that are interested in our cause.”
“Just me, Senator?”
“Just you.”
The rest of the day, not wanting to be far from our quarters, I spent in the company of Alexander walking around the area of the forum. We visited the temples of Castor and of the divine Julius Caesar. We took a quick glance into the round temple of the Vestals, hidden behind long and heavy curtaining, watched a ritual performed on one of the external altars of the temple of Concord, and listened to speeches and declamations on the vast atrium of the Basilica Julia. Lastly, we went into a small market on the via Argiletum, behind the main building of the Senate, where Alexander persuaded me to buy a gown to wear at Priscus’ dinner, since togas were only wore by Roman citizens.
After a short trip in an urban litter, carried by slaves, I arrived with Priscus at his home. After all I had seen so far in Rome, I was a little surprised with the modest aspect of his residence. I expected that the domus of such a distinguished official of the Empire would have been grander But within, it did match my expectations. The refinement was evident in the pastel-colored frescoes that decorated most of the walls, and on the fine detail of the mosaics, not to mention the large number of magnificent statues that could be seen displayed around the pond in the main atrium.
Waiting for us were two servants, who took us to his triclinium, where couches and divans were laid around small tables loaded with dishes filled with morsels of various delicacies. Pointing to one of couches, I sat down while Priscus asked for the wine to be served, an almost warm, sweet, resinous Greek mix, and we waited for the first guests to arrive.
“Ahasver, as I told you before, my purpose at this moment is to have the Senate remove Felix from Judaea, and this dinner with some of my closer friends and allies in the Senate, will also help us. Some are already convinced of this need, but there are others who are reticent or even friendly disposed towards Pallas and his brother. That is why your testimonial could be important tonight. All we actually want to hear is your account of the various problems in Caesarea.
“But, Senator,” I replied, yet skeptic, “do you really believe that what I have to say will sway them? I am a Judaean after all, and therefore one of the interested parties in all this.
“I think you can be quite persuasive. At the very least, it will show that my recommendations are based on actual events. We are all honorable men here, they are not expecting you to make false statements to further your interests. We must emphasize the mismanagement of Felix in regards to the whole of Judaea.”
“And if the others, in the delegation, are questioned by the Senate? They could paint a distorted picture of the same events.”
“Your account must be impartial. It must
stand on facts that the others can also confirm. I don’t want you to speak only for the Judaeans, but for all. If I have to put the others in the witness stand, I will make sure that their intervention will be equally neutral.
Soon enough, the first guests started to arrive, and Priscus left me to receive them.
The general discussion was now of politics, mainly of events in the city, and I could contribute little. I took the time to observe the guests. Most were of Priscus’s generation, with the exception of a younger patrician who looked my age. His name was Marcus Nerva, a member of a distinguished family of imperial officials, and recently appointed to the Senate, according to Priscus.
Not much of a talker, he was nonetheless intrigued with my presence.
“I think you are the first Judaean I have ever met” he revealed, as he continued sipping that awful wine.
“But I believe that there are also Judaeans in Rome, Senator" I answered politely.
“Oh yes, there are indeed. Too many, even. Mostly a bunch of contemptible creatures. Tradesmen of ill repute, mendicants and even some bankers of vile nature,” he suddenly, realizing that he was addressing one of them, quickly added, “I mean no disrespect to you personally.”
“Well, Senator, I can assure you that I have also met some very rude people in Rome, and they are not Judaeans" I answered with as little subtlety as I could master.
“Yes, yes. I do believe you. But tell me, if I understood Priscus correctly, you have come to Rome to ask for the dismissal of a Roman official?”
“I’m here in the service of the Senate” I said neutrally.
“My father asked me to come here tonight, but I still don’t understand what is Priscus’s intention.”
“I am sure that the Senator will explain it all.”
“I do hope so! And soon. I’m expected at the Palatine tonight, you know. How these elders talk on and on!”
It almost seemed as if Priscus heard him, for not long after he asked for silence and started to speak of his visit to Judaea and of the result of his audit into the affairs of Felix. Sometimes he would look at me, soliciting my views or acquiescence on some facts, and he soon finished by asking them to support his plea in the Senate for the dismissal of the Procurator.
Some senators actually did ask for confirmation of some of the facts, and I think that I answered them truthfully and convincingly. At least Priscus seemed satisfied with the outcome, and soon the dinner was over. Already on my way out, Priscus asked Nerva to take me back to the guesthouse, since it was on the way to the Palatine.
The cold night air helped to clear my head, and my senses, and more settled I climbed unto Nerva’s litter with no further missteps. He was already laying there with a wine cup in his hand. Incredible, how much they drank!
“Climb up, climb” he encouraged me, “where’s your cup? Not drinking anymore? No, I can see that” and giving the proper instructions to his slaves we got on our way to the forum.
“Tell me, this is your first time in Rome?”
“Yes, Senator.”
“Do you like our city?”
“Yes, Senator.”
“It surely must be very different from your own city.”
“Yes, Senator.”
“Tell me, you Judaeans only have one god?”
“Yes, Senator.”
“That is most awkward! Can’t you afford more?” chuckling with his own wit, he carried on, “I can’t understand that. I’ve heard that the Parthians also have only one god. Do you have temples where you come from?”
“Yes, Senator.”
“My great-grandfather was Governor of all Asia. All of it. That’s how I know of the Parthians. He practically built the city of Antioch single-handedly. You know Antioch?”
“Yes, Senator.”
“A nice city, so I have been told. But very licentious, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Senator.”
“Well, no wonder then, most of its citizens are Greeks, and we do know what to expect from the Greeks, don’t we?”
“Yes, Senator.”
“I honestly don’t know what would happen to those people out there without our discipline and our culture. Well, we have arrived, Master Ahasverus. I did enjoy this talk with you. You are a most excellent conversationalist. Have a good night. Maybe we’ll see each other again soon.”
“Yes, Senator.”
Yes indeed, a most stimulating conversation, but then, after all he had spoken about the Judaeans, I certainly wasn’t going to pamper the Roman.
In the absence of further news from Priscus, we spent the next few days walking and getting to know more of the city, and I even managed to find a synagogue near the Circus Maximus. I decided to go in for praying, while Alexander waited in a tabernae under the porticoes of the great arena.
I had never seen much religiosity on Alexander’s part, so I was surprised when he asked if we could go to the temple of Isis and Serapis, where he deposited a wreath by the base of the statue of the god.
“It’s not for me, Ahasver, but for father.”
“I understand, Alexander.”
“Are there Nazarenes in Rome?”
“I don’t know. I believe there are some,” recalling Ruth’s words about Saul, “but no one has mentioned them to me.”
“But they will come, Ahasver. Have you noticed how many temples we have seen in our short walks?”
“Yes. Pagans and sects are aplenty in this city.”
“Well, it is a very prudent city, that I can say.”
“What do you mean?”
“I meant, protected. Protected by gods. All of them have setup shop here” he said laughing.
“What are you saying ?” I admonished him, “That’s no way of talking about the gods. Tell me, you are not a very devout believer, are you?”
“You really want to know?”
“Certainly!”
“But don’t mention it to father Ioanis, right?”
“No, I won’t.”
“I am not a believer at all. I think I was, when I was younger I do remember believing in gods, but these days I only have doubts and questions about them.”
“Why don’t you talk to some priest about them?”
“It’s no use. They won’t be able to explain it.”
“How do you know if you don’t try it first.”
“Ahasver, tell me something,” and he went on, “was it your god who caused that stone to hit Yeshua in his forehead?”
“Of course not! Where did you get such an idea?”
“Then why didn’t he stop it?”
“Do I really need an answer to such a silly question?”
“You see, you don’t have an answer too.”
“You know what the answer to such a feeble argument is.”
“Yes, I do know. I do know that, at that time there were no gods nearby. Because if there were, how could they have allowed for such a thing to happen?”
“It’s called fate, Alexander. It was destined to happen.”
“Then what are gods good for, if they don’t even control fate?”
And somehow I suddenly remembered the words of Gamaliel, when he predicted the downfall of paganism due to rational thinking and philosophical questioning.
One afternoon, as we were leaving the theatre of Pompey, where we had been watching some uninspired ludi, we came across Senator Nerva and a small entourage of noble patricians.
“Salve, Master Ahasverus” he saluted.
“Salve, Senator Marcus Nerva. How are you, sir?” surprised to see that he remembered me and partly my name.
“I didn’t know that Master Ahasverus was an adept of our theatre. I must admit, you are a most intriguing person.”
What could one answer to that?
But Nerva, turning to his followers, remarked. “Master Ahasverus here is a Judaean. But a genuine and noble Judaean, not one of those we have in the city. A real ambassador from Judaea.”
“Salvete, gentlemen” I greeted
them amiably, returning the expected courtesies of a genuine Romanized Judaean, while Alexander observed all with a tight-lipped smile.
There really wasn’t much more to be said between us, so we moved on after some last inconsequential words.
“Who was that Roman, ambassador Ahasverus? A Senator also?”
“Don’t make fun. Yes, a true and pompous Senator of the republic.”
“And the women too?”
“Senators? No Alexander, who has ever heard of women senators?”
“I don’t know. These Romans are capable of anything. But they were pretty, oh yes.”
“Would you consider marrying one of them, Alexander? A Roman girl, I mean.”
“It would depend on how large her dowry was.”
“That’s why you Greeks have such shameful reputations.”
“Who says that?”
“That same Senator.”
“Really? May Hades welcome him soon.”
“You are a believer after all!” I remarked mockingly.
“In hell, yes”
We only saw Priscus again some days later in a ceremony that was held by the rostra of Augustus Caesar. We had arrived from one of our walks when we were surprised by a large number of legionnaires surrounding the area of the forum, and only managed to pass through after explaining who we were and the nature of our business in the neighborhood. Too conspicuous in that crowd, we took refuge on the stairs in front of the Basilica Emiliana.
From that vantage point, we could see a great number of Senators, all too evident in their white togas with deep reddish stripes, and also many patrician women, wearing pastel-colored dresses, some with veils around their faces. For us, used to noisier and rowdy crowds, it was strange to see such a well behaved group, virtually silent, and attentively listening to a speech that we were not able to hear, proffered by an old Senator in front of the old temple of Saturn.
When the speech ended, they all dispersed quite rapidly, many walking towards the streets that led off the forum, and others going up the hill to the Palatine. With nothing more of interest to retain us there, we also went towards the insula where we were staying, and as we came closer to the building of the curia, Alexander saw Priscus in a group with other officials.
“Salvete, Ahasver and Alexander.”
“Salve, Senator.”
“You were watching?” he asked.
“Yes, but we couldn’t hear the speech” I answered.
“Well, you didn’t miss much, believe me.”
“Who was the speaker, Senator?” asked Alexander.
“One of our older Senators and this year’s Consul, Marcus Valerius Corvinus. A former brother-in-law of the Emperor Claudius, and brother to the infamous Messalina.”
Not aware of Roman customs, I asked.
“An important announcement? We saw that the forum was well protected and full of guards.”
“Nothing extraordinary, just the announcement of the Consular games.”
“And it attracts this much attention?”
“Usually no, but the speech was to be delivered by the Emperor himself. He is the other Consul this year. But something detained him, and Marcus Valerius had to do it on his own.”
“That’s a shame. I would have liked to see the Emperor, wouldn’t you, Ahasver?”
“Maybe we’ll get a chance of seeing him one of these days.”
“I’m afraid not, Ahasver,” replied Priscus, “the Senate has ruled decisively on our matter. Felix has been replaced by a new Procurator, Porcius Festus, a most just and upright person, I can tell you. Your delegation will soon leave with him.”
“What will happen to Felix?” I asked.
“Nothing much, he will probably be out of a job for some time. But don’t you worry about him, he still has influential friends and a lot of money too. His brother Pallas might not be an Imperial Secretary anymore, but he is still a powerful man in Rome.”
“And thus, Senator, your mission is done.”
“And so it is, Ahasver, and yours too.”
“What little we did,” complained Alexander, “we weren’t even taken before the Senate.”
“Don’t think like that, Alexander. I told Ahasver it could happen this way. Your presence was important. You were not brought to testify because Pallas pulled some strings. It was not in his interest to make publicly known his brother’s peccadillos.”
“Has a date been set for our return, Senator?”
“Not yet. But it will be a matter of days, a week at most.”
As Priscus had foreseen, a few days later the delegation was informed, by an official of the Senate, of the date of our departure, and in the afternoon of the day before, Priscus invited me once again for a dinner party at his house.
“Ahasver, I would like very much for you to come. I insist.”
“But of course, Senator. How can I refuse?”
“Well, you could,” he said smiling and visibly happy with my acquiescence, “and this time, no politics, just conversation. I want you to meet my father-in-law, Publius Thrasea, and his nephew, Aulus Perseus. They have just arrived from Pamphylia, and they are most eager to meet you. I also invited Porcius Festus, but he hasn’t yet confirmed his presence.”
“The new Procurator for Judaea?”
“Yes. You can meet him there.”
“One more and very compelling argument for me to attend.”
At the appointed hour, I announced myself to one of Priscus’ slaves as he opened that redwood door. This time, there were fewer guests and in the triclinium fewer chairs and couches were laid out, which gave me the opportunity to admire the intricate and delicate work of the mosaic on the floor.
“It’s Sol Invictus, the god, being carried in his golden chariot across the sky, bringing light to the world” explained a young man with a honey-colored closely cropped beard and bright blue eyes, while he offered me a chalice of wine.
“I thank you for that explanation, it is really a most striking work.”
“Yes, Priscus is a man of good taste.”
“I see that you have met” said Priscus to us both as he approached in the company of another Senator.
“Not formally, uncle.”
“Well then, let me do the introductions. This is Master Ahasver, the gentleman I mentioned to you before, Aulus.”
“Very honored to make your acquaintance, Master Ahasver.”
“My pleasure, dominus" I replied.
“No, no. Just Aulus, please.”
“This is my father-in-law, Senator Publius Thrasea.”
“Dominus” hoping that this time my address was correct.
“Master Ahasver, I am pleased to finally meet you. We have heard very good things about you.”
“Thank you, Senator. Your reputation and wisdom are known to all.”
Thrasea did not look much older than Priscus and certainly not like a father-in-law, but who was I to talk about age and appearances. In the meantime, Priscus also brought along the new Procurator, Festus. A very tall and thin man, of soft traces and pale skin. He seemed older than Priscus and did not look very Roman, more like a Greek orator. A man of few words and even briefer salutations, he soon left our company.
“Let us seat,” invited Aulus, “I would like to speak with you, if you don’t mind.”
“No, of course not. But do call me Ahasver, please.”
Both Thrasea and Priscus also left us, and I took my seat in a couch, while Aulus asked a servant to bring a jar of wine.
“Priscus tells me that you are from Caesarea Maritima, in Judaea.”
“Yes, but I was born and raised in Jerusalem.”
“A most fascinating region, the Levant. Senator Thrasea was Proconsul of Pamphylia for some time, and I had the opportunity to travel there. I believe you know Antioch.”
“Yes, I was there a few years ago. You are also an official of the empire?”
“No, no. I’m so sorry, I should have introduced myself properly. I am a poet and
a satirist, a writer. Good fortune has allowed me to devote my life to such pursuits.”
“I see. May I ask why you were so keen to meet me? Senator Priscus was most insistent.”
“Yes, Priscus told me that you were a Judaean, a believer in only one god.”
“Yes, our Lord.”
“Well, exactly. I did see some Judaeans in Perga, but unfortunately, I didn’t have the opportunity of speaking with any of them. You see, I am starting to write a satire, much in the same line as one of Plato’s dialogues with Alcibiades. In this satire I want to discuss what is fair to ask from the gods.”
“You mean prayers?” I asked.
“Yes, when the prayer is a petition, a request placed by us to the gods.”
“Well, I think prayers are more than that. It is after all our way of communicating and acknowledging our faith in the divine.”
“Yes, indeed, I agree. We pray when we believe that the god we invoke has the ability to meet our request. Is that also your understanding?”
“Yes" I answered, but still not sure of where all this was going.
“And if one does not believe that the god can answer, then it wouldn’t make any sense to ask in the first place.”
“Yes, I agree.”
“I would like my satire to dwell on the nature of our requests, our prayers.”
“Yes?”
“Let’s see. We Romans ask for a good harvest from our god Saturn. For the light and warmth of the day to Sol. For love, we seek Venus, and for wisdom we call on Apollo. What about you, since you only have one godhead?”
“We ask all that from our Lord, our one and only god, of course.”
“Does your god always answer your requests? I can assure you that ours do not normally grant us what we ask for.”
“Certainly not.”
“And why do you think that happens?”
“I can’t answer that. The will of our Lord is beyond anyone’s understanding” I answered.
“But faith implies that we believe that the god will answer someday. So, could the problem be with the nature of our request?”
“I believe that the Lord can recognize a just and reasonable request from an impious one.”
“But perhaps the person who is asking, or praying, isn’t able to do so. So the outcome is that the gods may seem capricious and only answer a few of our prayers, if any.”
“Again you are talking of the designs of the divine.”
“Well then, why do we pray?”
“To express our faith, and because some prayers will be answered. The just and the reasonable ones” I ventured.
“Maybe so, but then we get into the question of what is fair and reasonable.”
“I think that our own sense of morality teaches us that. I will not, for example, pray for the death of someone.”
“But there are those who will. Don’t we pray, when are at war, for the death and defeat of our enemies? A man of flawed character can ask for the death of someone who will bring him some advantage, for example.”
“I see what you mean.”
“Morality is volatile. My morals today are different from what they were a few years ago. They’re probably different from yours, and certainly even more different between us and the gods.”
“I apologize, Aulus, but I do not see the point behind these arguments. Is it rhetoric?”
“But I told you, Ahasver. I’m just trying to get some insights for my satire. It’s just a story, a sort of dialogue also. My curiosity was to know whether you, a believer in a single god, would also have these dilemmas and questionings about prayer.”
“Have you reached a conclusion?”
“Everyone has its own, I would say.”
“But yours, Aulus, what is your understanding?”
“I believe that in time, prayers undermine our faith in the gods. Every time one of our gods declines to answer a prayer, which we believe to be fair and just, our faith weakens. As we Romans have several gods, we can always pray to a different god. But in your case, where there is only one god, I think the risk is much greater. Don’t you agree?”
“Honestly, no, I don’t. I think true faith can sustains us for a lifetime.”
“That may be true. The gods are all too wise when they limit our life span. But imagine someone who could live for hundreds of years or a thousand years. Could faith also last that long?”
“There are cases in our records that mention prophets who lived for many and many years, and never lost their faith.”
“If they truly did, then it’s clear to me that could only have happened because the gods allowed for it. I believe that, in those cases, the very act of living for so long is proof enough of godly favor. My satire is not about such exceptions, but about us, the common people, the ones ignored most of the times by our gods.”
“You are then saying that prayers, symbols of faith, can actually destroy it?”
“Man will always believe in the divine, it's a need, just like eating and drinking. To keep this belief alive, we create new gods, or at least, new rituals and new cults. That is why Zeus is now Jupiter, the Titans have disappeared in Tartarus, Osiris became Serapis by order of the Ptolemy, and the mysteries of Astarte vary from city to city.”
To me, all that was just ample proof of how fickle and unsustainable were the pagan religions. But his rationale was new to me. Could it mean that Chronos was after all a guardian of the faith?
We ended that night talking of voyages and of experiences. Aulus was a keen observer and his descriptions and comments on Antioch and its inhabitants, were witty and entertaining. And little more do I recall of the events of that evening. Dionysus had been merciless to me with that warm broth of fermented grapes.
In the company of a throbbing headache, Alexander, and the other delegates, we hurriedly returned to Ostia in the next morning. From there we embarked on a military vessel, followed by two other triremes carrying a new garrison to Judaea. The whole expedition was done at true military pace, and we only stopped in Crete to replenish our supplies.
Porcius Festus kept to himself, and stayed in his quarters during most of the journey. I only saw him on the last day, when he called for a meeting. Festus announced some of the measures that he would take to bring the province to order and asked for our help and support in carrying out these. That was all. I never saw him again.
Once moored at the pier in Caesarea, we had to watch the troops disembark, and after the formal reception of Festus we were then authorized to leave.
As foretold, he soon acted incisively and efficiently. Within a few days we could see the new Pretorian soldiers patrolling the city ostensively and regularly. Festus also cancelled festivals, some of the games, and reduced significantly our civil liberties, even some privileges previously granted by Felix. Despite some protesting, his measures were effective, and soon calm and order returned to the city.
Much to my surprise, I learned that Saul was still retained in prison. Felix just left him there, and there was no talk of an imminent trial.
“It’s shameful, Ahasver, “ complained Ruth, “they left him there to rot.”
“It is strange, indeed” what else could I say?
“The problem is that there is no one to speak for him.”
“Why not? Where are the brothers? Don’t they do anything?”
“Who would listen to us? It is known that the Judaeans payed Felix to keep him there.”
“Why would they do that?” I still asked, but very little interested.
“To hurt us, of course. Ahasver, please do something for him. Talk to the Governor, you know him personally.”
“You know very well that I don’t want to get involved once again with your brethren. And I certainly don’t have any kind of intimacy with this Procurator.”
But Festus also acted quickly on this matter. Once he heard that a Roman citizen had being held for almost two years without a trial, he sent for Saul, and promptly put him on a ship to Rome.