by Mika Waltari
It was also to his credit that he did not strive for the favors and gifts of important and wealthy people, as the itinerant Isis priests and other visionaries usually did. The lowest slave, even a simple-minded person, seemed to be the same to him, if not more important, than a noble and wise man. Seneca taught that slaves too were human beings, but Seneca had no desire to mix with slaves because of this. He chose other society.
I noticed in the end that whichever way I thought, I tried to find arguments against Paul rather than for him. There was a powerful spirit speaking in him, for I could not stand to one side and think coldly and clearly about his demented superstition and then with a laugh repeat it to Gallio. Reason told me that I could not feel such deep and obvious hostility to Paul’s absolute confidence if his thoughts had not made an impression on me.
I tired of brooding and was again filled with a desire to drink from my mother’s old wooden goblet which my father valued so highly and which I had not touched for so long. I found it in my chest, poured some wine into it and drank. My room was nearly dark, but I lit no lamps. Suddenly it was as if my thoughts had lost all their foundations and all their roots.
The rational philosophy of today denies man all hope. Man can choose a reasonable life of pleasure or a strickly disciplined life aimed at serving the State and the common good. An epidemic, a falling tile, or a hole in the ground can by chance put an end to man’s life. The wise man commits suicide if his life becomes intolerable. Plants, stones, animals and people are nothing but a blind meaningless game of atoms. It is as reasonable to be an evil man as a good one. Gods, sacrifices, omens, are only State-approved superstitions which satisfy women and simple people.
There are of course men like Simon the magician and the Druids who, by developing certain spiritual sources, can put a man into a deathlike sleep or control weaker wills. But that power is within themselves and does not come from without. I am convinced of this, although the Druid himself may believe he has walked in the underworld and seen visions there.
The wise man can with his words and by his own life set an example to others and by a deliberate death show that life and death are but trifles. But I do not think that a life of wisdom of this kind is much to strive for.
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. H
e 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.
“You don’t judge me then,” I said with a smile, “although I am in your eyes an idol-worshiper, adulterer and drunkard?”
“You are outside,” he said. “It is not my business to judge you. We judge only those who are inside. God will judge you.”
He said it so seriously, as a definite fact, that I trembled inwardly. Although I had made up my mind not to offend him, I could not resist putting a malicious question to him.
“When do we stand before this day of judgment, according to the information you have?” I said.
Paul said that it was not his business to prophesy either. The day of the Lord would come like a thief in the night. I saw that he was fairly certain that the coming of the Lord would happen in his lifetime.
Paul rose to his feet suddenly.
“The Lord will descend from heaven and those who have died in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive will be carried there with them to meet the Lord among the clouds and then we shall all be in the presence of the Lord.”
“And the judgment then,” I asked, “of which you talk so much?”
“The Lord Jesus will appear in a flame of fire with his celestial angels,” he said, “and avenge himself on those who do not recognize God and do not obey the message of our Lord Jesus. As a punishment they will be afflicted with eternal perdition away from the countenance of our Lord and the light of his power.”
I had to admit that he did not attempt to win my’favor but starkly said what he meant. His words moved me, for he was nothing if not honest in the fervor of his belief. Without my asking him, he told me about angels and the powers of evil, about his journeys in different countries and the authority he had been given by the supporters in Jerusalem. More than anything else, I was surprised that he showed no desire to convert me. In the end, I did not listen to him so much as submit myself to the power and assurance which seemed to speak from him.
I could feel his presence quite clearly. I smelled the pleasing scent of candles, good food, incense and clean goat-hair. It was good to be in his company. Nevertheless, in a kind of dream, I tried to separate myself from it. I jerked out of my drowsiness and cried, “How can you think you know everything so much better than other people?”
He spread out his hands and replied with all simplicity, “I am God’s fellow worker.”
And he was not blaspheming when he said it; he was quietly but absolutely convinced of the truth of his words. I rose swiftly with my hand to my forehead and walked up and down the room as if bewitched. If it were really as he said, then here was the opportunity of my life to find the meaning of life.
“I do not understand what you are saying,” I admitted in a trembling voice, “but lay those strong hands of yours on my head, if that is usual among you, so that your spirit shall come to me and I shall understand.”
But he did not touch me. Instead he promised to pray for me so that Jesus should be proclaimed to me and become my Christ, for the time was short and this world already perishing. When he had gone, everything he had said seemed sheer lunacy. I cried out aloud. I reproached myself for gullibility. I kicked the furniture over and smashed the clay bowls on the floor.
Hierex came rushing in. When he saw my condition, he called in the doorkeeper to help. Together they struggled to put me to bed. But I wept loudly and from my mouth came a mad cry which was not my own. It was as if some alien power had shaken my whole body and broken out of me in the form of this terrible scream.
At last I fell asleep from exhaustion. In the morning my head and the whole of my body ached, so I stayed in bed and wearily took the bitter medicine Hierex had mixed.
“Why do you receive that Jewish magician?” he said. “Nothing good comes of the Jews. They have a capacity for confusing sensible people.”
“He’s no magician,” I said. “Either he’s mad or else he’s the most spiritually powerful person I’ve ever met. I’m very much afraid he’s an intimate of an inexplicable god.”
Hierex looked at me in a troubled way.
“I was born and brought up a slave,” he said, “so I’ve learned to judge life from a worm’s point of view. But I’m also older than you, have traveled widely, experienced good and evil, and learned to know people. If you like, I’ll go and listen to your Jew and then tell you honestly what I think of him.”
His loyalty touched me. I thought it would be useful to know what Hierex in his own way thought of Paul.
“Yes, go to them,” I said. “Try to understand them and listen to Paul’s teaching.”
On my part I wrote a short report on Paul to Gallio, making it as formal as I could.
Minutus Lausus Manilianus on Paul:
I heard his teaching in his followers’ synagogue. I questioned him alone. He spoke openly. He did not try to gain my favor. He hid nothing.
He is a Jew of Jewish parents. Studied in Tarsus, then in Jerusalem. Formerly persecuted the disciples and followers of Jesus of Nazareth. Experienced a revelation. In Damascus, recognized Jesus as the Jewish Messiah. Stayed in the wilderness. Quarreled in Antioch with Simon the fisherman, Jesus’ chief disciple. Later reconciled. Received the right to proclaim Jesus as Christ to the uncircumcised.
Journeyed in the eastern provinces. Often punished. Tactics: First visits the Jewish synagogues. Proclaims Jesus the Messiah. Is beaten. Converts those listeners who take an interest in the Jewish God. Circumcision is not demantled. The Jewish laws need not be obeyed. He who believes that Jesus is Christ is pardoned and receives eternal life.
No rabble-rouser. Does not encourage slave rebellion. Encourages quiet life. Does not abuse others, only his own people. Powerful personal authority. Affects most those already infected by Judaism.
Note: Convinced that Jesus of Nazareth will one day return to judge the whole world, when God’s wrath will punish all others. So in some ways an enemy of humanity.
Politically quite harmless from Rome’s point of view. Causes splits and quarrels among the Jews. In this way, to Rome’s advantage.
I found nothing reprehensible in this man.’
I went to Gallio with my brief report. After reading it, he stol
e a glance at me and his chin trembled a little. “You are very laconic,” he said.
“That’s just a pro memoria,” I said, annoyed. “If you like, I can tell you more about the man.”
“What is his divine secret?” asked Gallio wearily., “I don’t know,” I said impetuously.
Then I bowed my head, trembled, and went on: “If I were not a Roman, I would perhaps put aside my tribune’s insignia, leave my post and follow him.”
Gallio gave me a searching look, straightened up and raised his chin. “I made a mistake sending you to find out,” he said curdy. “You’re still too young.”
Then he shook his head dejectedly.
“Yes, exactly,” he said. “The wisdom of the world and the pleasures of life have not yet corroded you. Are you ill that you tremble so? We have excellent plumbing here, but occasionally one drinks bad water. Then one gets a fever called Corinthian fever. I’ve had it myself. But don’t be afraid. I don’t think their Jesus of Nazareth will come to judge mankind in our time.”
Nevertheless, I think supernatural things interested Gallio, for he liked talking about them occasionally. What Roman is wholly free of superstition? But to change the subject, he invited me to drink wine with him, called in his wife to join us and began to read to us a play he had written and worked on in Latin from a Greek original. He also read some Greek verses in comparison to show how well, given the right touch, our language accommodates itself to the Greek rhythms.
The play was about the Trojan war. It should have interested me, for the Trojans, through Aeneas, were the forefathers of the Romans. But after drinking some wine, I happened to say, “Written Greek is beautiful, but today it rings strangely dead in my ears. Paul spoke the living language of the people.”
Gallio looked at me with compassion.
“One can only write the crudest kind of satire in the people’s language,” he said, “and then the language itself has a comic effect. Just as the Ostian actors in Rome use the language of the marketplace. Philosophy in spoken language! You must be out of your mind, Minutus.”