The Blessing Stone

by Barbara Wood

  “Who—”

  “No stopping at the bookshops near the Forum. You are to come straight home from visiting the Jewess, and I shall know if you do otherwise.”

  She bent her head and whispered, “Yes, Cornelius.”

  He dismissed her and she returned to her bedchamber where she drew the gold necklace with the hated blue crystal out of its box and placed it over her head. As she felt its heaviness settle against her chest, she felt shadows gather around her. She had no choice but to take the ghost of the Egyptian queen with her.

  As Amelia rode through the streets in her curtained litter, she welcomed the noise and smells of Rome. Accustomed to the fresh air of the countryside, Amelia’s nostrils were shocked, as always during her first days back in the city, by the odors and miasmas that enveloped this metropolis that stunk in all weather. She didn’t have to draw aside the curtain to know that they were on the Street of Fullers, for fullers used urine in the treatment of wool and so they always set jars outside their shops for passersby to urinate into. The stench was as familiar as that of baking bread. In other streets feces, both animal and human, baked in the sun to give off a fetor that mingled with the odors of cooked as well as rotting fish. But the most pervasive and, to Amelia, welcome smell of all was that of humanity.

  Rome’s streets were congested with people looking for excitement and diversion; people buying, people selling, men wishing to be seen, or out to see who they could see, women causing scandal, or searching for gossip. Every street corner had its itinerant entertainers—jugglers, clowns, fortune-tellers, and snake charmers. The way might be blocked by a crowd watching a sword swallower or a trio of acrobats hoping to pick up a few coins. Magicians with pigeons competed against midgets with monkeys. There were singers and sidewalk artists, fire-eaters and mimes. Orators stood on boxes and expounded on everything from the virtue of spicefree food to the evils of sex. One-legged sailors entertained with parrots trained to spout obscene words; poets recited in Greek and Latin; hucksters sold potions and elixirs and cure-alls. Be it the marketplaces, the parks, or the Forum, streets narrow or wide, the Roman mobs milled about like schools of restless fish, forever in search of entertainment and distraction. They filled shops and taverns in their appetites for wine and meat; they gossiped and flirted and fought and met in amorous assignations in a thousand colorful venues. The dark alleyways offered baser amusements: savage dogfights, naked dancing girls, child prostitutes. Sex was bought cheaply and consummated swiftly and without sentiment. Destitute women offered themselves, their daughters, even their infants for a loaf of bread. And murders were committed, in fits of emotion or through cold calculation.

  Lady Amelia, who sailed through it all in her curtained litter carried by four stout slaves who shouted to make way, loved it all with a passion. Rome made her feel alive again, and helped her to forget the ghost that traveled with her.

  By the time the litter was brought to a halt before a high wall with a solid gate set in it, the sun had reached its zenith. Amelia pulled a rope and heard a bell chime somewhere within. As the gate swung open and she started to step across, Amelia reached out and brushed her fingertips over a small piece of clay inset in the stone wall. It was called a mezuzah and it contained a scrap of papyrus with sacred words written on it. She touched it automatically, in the same way she crossed herself now and then, not because she believed in the power of sacred words but out of respect for Rachel, who did.

  For Amelia, the best part of being with Rachel was the ease. Rachel was not a competitive or gossipy woman, Amelia never felt she was being silently judged or criticized as she was among others in her social circle. With Rachel, one could either be talkative or silent in her company. Their favorite pastimes together were taking walks along the Tiber, browsing the book stalls, watching street entertainments, or spending endless hours in Rachel’s garden over a friendly game of hounds-and-jackals, very often the only sound to be heard the rolling of the dice and the click-clack movement of the game pieces. But they had never eaten together, and so Amelia was looking forward to a new experience.

  Her friend came down the path to greet her, an older woman, plump and round-faced, with a wealth of silver necklaces shimmering on her bosom.

  “My dear Amelia,” Rachel said as they embraced. “How I missed you!” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “And you have another grandchild!”

  “A healthy boy.”

  “God be thanked. Cornelia is doing well?”

  “She and her husband are still in the country and will return to Rome in a few days. But you, Rachel, you look well!” It had been seven months since they had seen each other, and while her friend always appeared in the peak of health, Amelia could not help notice that the older woman fairly glowed. Draped in expensive dark blue silk edged with silver embroidery, Rachel actually looked years younger. Hooking her arm through Amelia’s, Rachel explained that she and her daughters had just returned from the synagogue and that Amelia was the first of the guests to arrive.

  “Today is Shavuot, a holiday celebrating the day when Moses received the Ten Commandments and the Torah from God at Mt. Sinai. In Jerusalem, people are taking offerings of the first fruits from their harvests to the temple. This is why my home is decorated especially with flowers and plants, to remind us that this is a harvest holiday. It is a pilgrimage festival, and Solomon and I had always hoped one day to celebrate Shavuot in Jerusalem.”

  She paused on the path because something had glinted in the sunlight and caught her attention. A gold chain around Amelia’s neck. “What is this? A necklace that you hide?”

  When Amelia brought the blue-crystal pendant out into the light, Rachel started to touch it but Amelia drew back and said, “Don’t.”

  “Why?”

  “There is a curse on it.”

  Rachel’s eyes rounded in shock.

  “This necklace was taken from the mummy of an Egyptian queen.”

  Rachel placed her hand on her bosom. “Robbed from the dead? God protect us. Amelia, why do you wear such a thing?”

  “Because Cornelius told me to.”

  Rachel said nothing. All the words she had to say about Cornelius had been uttered long ago.

  “I feel her presence.”

  “Whose?”

  “The dead queen. It’s as if Cornelius brought her ghost home.”

  “There are no ghosts in this house,” Rachel said as she linked her arm through Amelia’s. “You will be safe here.”

  As they entered the coolness of the atrium, Rachel paused and took Amelia’s hands between hers and said with a special warmth in her voice, “I cannot keep the good news from you a moment longer. Oh my dear dear friend, what a wondrous thing happened while you were away in the country! You know how bleak life has been for me after Solomon’s passing.”

  Rachel’s husband had been a physician trained in the Greek school—a Hippocratic physician, which were in high demand for their skill and honesty. This was how the two women had met, when one of Amelia’s children had gotten hurt and Solomon had come. He and Rachel had just moved to Rome from Corinth. Solomon had explained that his father and brothers were physicians there, and he had not wanted to take patients from them so he had come to Rome where he discovered a great need for good doctors. Rachel and Solomon had enjoyed one of those rare relationships in which the spouses love one another. In Rome it was highly unfashionable for husbands and wives to be in love, and it was especially frowned upon to demonstrate affection in front of others. Amelia recalled how shocked she had been to see Solomon kiss his wife on the cheek. Rachel had not been the same since his death, as though his passing had left an emptiness in her that could not be filled.

  But now she seemed ebullient with joy. She said to Amelia, “I used to think, if only I could be assured I would see my Solomon again. And now I have that assurance.” Rachel went on to tell of a Jewish hero she called the Redeemer, of a coming kingdom he heralded, of a promise of eternal life. “Christ is our means of having spirit
ual peace. He made both Jews and gentiles one in his death by breaking down that which divided them, the old law, resulting in the creation of a new one.”

  When she saw Amelia’s puzzled look, she laughed and said, “It is confusing, but soon it will all come clear. There are answers here for you, too, my dear friend.”

  Others began to arrive. Amelia was surprised at the mix of guests for Rachel had once told Amelia that she was her only non-Jewish friend, and yet there were gentiles in this group. Nor were they confined to Rachel’s upper-class status but seemed to have been drawn from all walks of life, including slaves who, to Amelia’s astonishment, were greeted with the same warm welcome. It was a noisy affair. Because Judaism was such a mystery to most Romans, Amelia had imagined their religious rituals to be silent, solemn affairs, like those in the temples of Isis and Juno. But Rachel explained to her bewildered friend that these gatherings were patterned after the weekly meetings at the synagogue, which were for social as well as spiritual purposes.

  There were three dining tables surrounded by nine couches, with three guests per couch. In this way did Rachel exhibit her skill as a good hostess, for it was considered bad form to have less than nine people at one table, or more than twenty-seven people at a party. All fires had been kindled the night before for it was forbidden to light a fire on the Sabbath.

  When everyone was settled, Rachel said, “It is my joy to welcome the gentiles among us today.”

  An elderly man wearing a skullcap and a fringed shawl, protested loudly about the presence of non-Jews, and walked out.

  Sending a young man to go after him, Rachel explained to Amelia: “Many of us are still divided on matters of practice. Each community has its own rules and tenets of belief. The elders are trying to unify the communities, but the world is a big place. Our brothers and sisters in Corinth hold to different practices than do we, and our brothers and sisters in Ephesus hold to different practices from those of us in Rome and Corinth!”

  Amelia saw that the old man was being coaxed back by the young man who was saying, “Remember the words of the prophet Isaiah when he said, ‘I will make you a light for the Gentiles that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth.’ ” The elder took his place on a couch, but he still didn’t look convinced or happy about the presence of non-Jews.

  Rachel led them in prayer. She sang out, “Sh’ma Yisrael: Adonai Elohenu Adonai Ehad!”

  And the rest sang back, “Barukh Shem Kevod Malkhuto le-olam vaed!”

  Rachel then smiled at the new guests and repeated the prayer in Latin for their benefit: “Hear O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is One! Blessed be His glorious Kingdom forever and ever!”

  The meeting seemed to consist of reading letters and telling stories. Amelia recognized some of the stories since the resurrection of gods was nothing new. The god Mars had been martyred and descended into the underworld for three days and rose again. Other saviors had done the same in prior ages; even Romulus, the first king of Rome, had appeared in the flesh to his followers after his death and told them he was being taken up to the gods. Julius Caesar and Augustus were now gods. Men becoming gods was a commonplace occurrence. And as for an afterlife, Isis already promised this. The group spoke of the crucifixion of their redeemer. This meant nothing to Amelia for criminals were crucified everyday. Crosses lined the roads leading into Rome, and it was rare to see one unoccupied. And as for Jesus performing miracles and healing the sick, these too were nothing rare, for in Rome one observed miracles in the streets on a daily basis, magicians who turned water into wine, and faith healers making the lame walk. Still she listened politely and marveled at how rapt the listeners were.

  Rachel’s cousin from Corinth was there, who had brought letters to be read out loud. Rachel explained quietly to Amelia, “We do not have synagogues or temples or structured centers of worship. We gather in private homes. My cousin, like me, is a patroness of the new faith and holds feasts in her home in Corinth. Her sister-in-law, who lives in Ephesus, is also a wealthy patroness and holds feasts in her home. This is how we gather. But we are not uniform in our rules and beliefs. There is a group in Alexandria, for example, that is comprised entirely of gentiles, and so they have chosen to hold their gatherings on Sunday, the holy day of Mithras, instead of the Sabbath. And they do not follow kasher food rules but eat what they have always eaten—pork and shellfish, milk with meat. The companions who knew the Master send letters to the many communities in an attempt to bring us all together under one ideology. But it is difficult, the empire being so vast.”

  Amelia didn’t see much of a gentile influence at this gathering. Most of the members were Jewish. There was a menorah on the table. Rachel’s head was covered, as were the men’s, and most of the men wore fringed shawls and phylacteries on their foreheads. They recited prayers in Hebrew first, and then in Latin. And the dishes, while varied and plentiful, contained no pork or shellfish, no milk or cheese. But there was steamed fish in a tasty sauce, boiled chicken, and a sweet, tender veal.

  Rachel, presiding, explained to the newcomers that this was a feast honoring the arrival of the One Who Has Been Awaited—the Messiah who will bring God’s kingdom to the Jews. “We have new friends with us here today.” She introduced them. “Some of you protest the gentiles in our midst. But Paul has told us that before God we are neither Jew nor gentile, but all equal before Him.”

  Rachel broke off pieces of bread and passed them around. “Blessed are the meek,” she sang out, and the others sang in response, “For they shall inherit the earth.” On and on, in beautiful antiphonal chanting.

  Amelia noticed that they addressed their prayers to one called Abba. “Abba is the name of your god?” she asked.

  “Aramaic was the language of our Lord, and ‘abba’ is the Aramaic word for ‘father.’ Jesus addressed God as Abba, and now so do we.”

  Although their mood was one of joy, Amelia sensed an underlying tension. There was a strange anxiousness among the group and as she listened to their stories, she began to understand the source of this anxiety: their redeemer was crucified thirty years ago and few of his original followers were still alive. Everyone said this meant Jesus’s return was soon. “Any day now,” Rachel assured the group. This was new to Amelia, for she could not think of a single savior god who had promised to come back, or who had in fact come back after his resurrection. Rachel went on to report of tribes on the borders of the empire fomenting rebellion against Rome, and then she cited signs and portents that heralded the end of the world.

  The closing words were spoken by an elderly man among them whom they addressed as Peter, which sounded strange to Amelia, for they were speaking Latin and therefore calling him Rock. She had never heard a man called Rock before. When asked why he had such a strange name, Rachel replied, “Because he is Simon the Rock, which refers to his steadfastness and loyalty. He was our Lord’s first disciple.”

  Peter did not resemble his namesake. Small and old and frail, he had to be helped to the couch where he began to speak in a voice as soft as feathers. He first praised God and then spoke on the holiness of life. Much of it held little meaning for Lady Amelia, who listened politely to such exhortations as: “You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation. Once you were not a people but now you are the people of God,” and “The end of all things is near, therefore live your lives as strangers here in fear.”

  Finally there was a collection of money, some of which would be shared among the poor of Rome, the rest to be sent to needy Christian communities in the empire. When everyone was preparing to leave, Rachel asked Amelia to stay, for she was anxious to hear her friend’s thoughts. But Amelia had to confess that she did not understand this new belief, nor could she accept that the world was about to end. “Thank you, my dear friend, for including me today. But this is not for me. I have not the faith that you require among your members. Nor do I feel that your redeemer would interest himself in me.” She stopped suddenly.

  The frai
l old apostle named Peter was preparing to lead the group in a final prayer, and before Amelia’s astonished eyes he rose to his feet, held out his arms and began to recite, “Blessed Father in Heaven…”

  She stared in shock at the outstretched arms and remembered the prophecy of the Bird Reader. Was this the man foretold?

  The heat of summer was upon them and so Rachel was preparing the peristyle garden for the Sabbath meeting. The group had grown in numbers and she could no longer keep the feast to three sets of three couches. Now the guests sat on the ground or on benches and ate from bread trenchers that she passed around. Since they had no formal place of worship, no temple or synagogue, but met in private homes, they called their group an ecclesia, a Greek word that meant “summoned to assembly” and that future generations would call a church. Rachel’s house was now a house-church, as was Chloe’s home in Corinth, Nympha’s in Laodicea, and so forth. And all the scattered house-churches together were starting to be called the Universal Church.

  The Christian faith was growing so rapidly that Rachel was now almost daily performing baptisms in the fountain in her peristyle garden with its little statue of Bacchus on top spouting water upon the Christian converts. She carried out the ritual the way her cousin Chloe had taught her, who had learned it from the missionary Paul, who had learned it from Peter in Jerusalem. There was comfort in the ritual and in the unbroken chain, for Jesus himself had been thus baptized in the Jordan River, and now, nearly forty years later, his followers were doing the same. Rachel had yet, however, to baptize her best friend.

  She looked over at Amelia, whose contribution to the communal meal was small loaves, baked with her own hands and stamped with the cross of Hermes.

  Amelia had no idea how hard Rachel prayed for her. And it was no longer just to bring her friend into the joyous fold of Jesus the Christ, but a more urgent reason fueled Rachel’s prayers: literally the saving of Amelia’s immortal soul. Rachel’s own conversion had occurred back in January, on a rainy day that she would never forget, when she had heard the glorious message from Palestine—that the long awaited savior of the Jews had come at last, and that when he came again, people were going to be reunited with the deceased, for as Paul promised, death was only sleep, a “night between two days,” and that those baptized in the Lord’s name would live again. Peter had laid his knobby old hands on Rachel’s head and she had felt an instant lifting of her grief. She wished the same joy for Amelia.