Great Lion of God (85 page)

Faith, to Saul, was the only thing necessary for a man to have to be admitted to the worship of the Messias, and to the Law. For faith was a gift of God, and a man of faith had been marked as His own.

In Antioch, he had at length prevailed on his people that they must not be intemperate in their actions and speeches to others, not antagonize men in an unseemly and unnecessary manner, in an effort to bring them to Christ. Zeal was splendid, but excess was dangerous both to the faith and to themselves. Rather, a man should labor diligently and speak kindly. By the time Saul had attained some success—but not until his own wild shows of anger and disgust—there were many in the Church of Antioch who were Gentiles of scores of races, and a considerable portion were men of learning and culture and wealth. They had come to listen to “the Jewish prophet,” out of idleness or curiosity, and they had remained to pray with him. For the God of the Jews was not licentious, cruel, depraved and voluptuous, nor was He capricious and unstable, inclined to favor without reason and to revenge without reason. He was to be feared because He was the Almighty, and all things were in His hand, but He was not to be feared because He was intemperate and malicious and unpredictable or violent, as were their own gods. He could not be placated or cajoled by amulets, sacrifices or superstitions. He desired only contrition and a faith in Him, and on those who trusted Him—and even those who did not—He lavished mercy and lovingkindness and eternal happiness and justice. A God whom a man could trust! A God who moved in light, and not in darkness! A God who was as simple as water and as mysterious as all life and death! A God who cared about men! Was not that astounding—that a God should care about that miserable little creature who lived one day and was destroyed the next, seemingly as the grass died? He listened to the whisper of a child as intently as He listened to the cry of—a thousand men before His altar! None could escape His love and His salvation, if a man only accepted these treasures.

To men who feared and distrusted their,’ own gods, who lived in terror of them, or who did not believe in them at all because of their wantonness and malice and cruelty toward each other and mankind, the message was unique, astonishing, dazzling, filled with hope, exhilarating, incredible.

But Saul made Him credible to them. Even the cultured and the wise became convinced, though not as early as did the credulous and the humble. The Church in Antioch prospered. Then Saul knew in his soul that he must leave the Church there, for the sandy soil had been replaced by rock, priests had been ordained, converts were sought with love and responded. Truly, in much less than twenty years since the Crucifixion the harvest had increased and the laborers also, and the Gospel had spread even to Rome and Athens, in little quiet colonies, and to Egypt, and other lands. It insistently crept like a small, unassuming plant filled with purple blossoms, and it covered the aridity of the soil of men’s lives and made fragrant their arduous duties and more bearable their pain and their slavery under Rome and her taxes.

Here in Saul was a man who had, in a single moment, been lifted from persecution to adoration, and who spoke of it in a voice like a passionate and musical bell. It was impossible to doubt that he had seen what he had seen, whether he spoke in truth or in madness. If mad, it was a glorious madness, preferable to sanity. If truth—then the narrow horizon widened infinitely and brightened with the gold of hope and eternity. He cried to them, holding out his hands as if offering gifts, “If Christ be not risen, then our faith is in vain!” And they knew that He had died and had risen, and faith touched their hearts with a hot silver finger and they cried out in exultation, and in answer.

He appeared to have inexhaustible energy, though none guessed it was the energy of his spirit and not of his weary flesh. Even his afflicted eye possessed power and gave him an inscrutable expression at times when he was most eloquent. If his face was haggard, if the white streaks in his red hair broadened almost visibly from month to month, few saw it, for all were entranced by his commanding tones, his imperial if impatient gestures, and then his sudden wide smile which was at once knowing, satirical, amused, wry and jovial. His laughter to them was a leonine roar of hearty mirth, masculine and strong and as free as the wind. And when he rebuked or condemned, they trembled.

To the Greeks who said that the life of a Christian appeared dismal and self-denying to them, and not of humanity and of human joy, he would say, “Our faith not only rescues us from a spiritual death, but it gives us a greater joy in our present lives, an ecstasy of internal being not found in worldly delights or sensual experiences. To a man who loves God there is none else, and no greater rapture, for the world both within and without is transformed into glory and radiant color and music.” To the pragmatic Romans who said that Saul’s God did not appear to offer much in tangible gifts, he said, “He who did not spare His own Son but gave Him up for us all, will He not also give us all things with Him?—We are more than conquerors through Him Who loved us.” (Rom. 8:31-39) To a Roman centurion who laughed jocularly and who asked if Saul’s God would give the Romans conquest over the infernal Parthians if they accepted Him, Saul replied, “He is the God of the Parthians also, and loves them,” a reply which mystified the Roman and made him shake his head. Gods were participants in battles. They favored one side or the other, but not both simultaneously. Surely the gods were on the side of the Romans who brought order and law to the barbarians, and defended Rome, and not with the enemy who would destroy it all. “God is no Respecter of persons,” said Saul. “He is concerned only with a man’s heart and soul,” a reply which made the centurion muse and shake his head. He was convinced the Jew was demented. He said to Saul, “You live poorly and miserably, though I have heard you are a rich man. Surely your life is painful, and your death will be wretched.”

Saul answered that death had not simply been made acceptable but had been destroyed in a fire of Love. “This new life is not our own, but Christ’s, and it is so for we are part of Him.”

But to the Roman and other Gentiles like him life after death was a poor thing as a shade bereft of human sensuality. Not one seer had reported that the manes of the dead appeared happy, but always gloomy and melancholy, even those allegedly from the Elysian Fields or the Blessed Isles. All longed to be men again. But the Christians gazed at this life not with pleasure and intense concentration, as was normal with men, but with eyes fixed eagerly on an unimaginable heaven. To many of the Gentiles they appeared madmen. Men who repudiated this world of delight could only be against it. So they began to regard the Christians with suspicion, as haters of men. Therefore, the Christians were dangerous. Whispers rose that they worshiped the head of an ass and had obscene rites, offensive to the gods, and that they performed criminal private ceremonies, and blasphemed and that they plotted some mysterious attack on their fellow men through evil incantations.

Saul heard some of this but with no misgivings until he received a letter from his cousin, Titus Milo Platonius, now General of the Praetorian Guards in Rome, and stationed and living on the Palatine.

Though the letter was importantly sealed with his own seal, and bound with silken threads, and brought to Saul by a personal messenger, Milo was cautious in his references to the reigning emperor, Tiberius Claudius Nero Germanicus Caesar, nephew of the now dead Tiberius Caesar, for it was Claudius who had such a respect for the Praetorians that he had greatly increased their numbers and had given them a large and rich reward for their fidelity. (But, after all, it was the Praetorians who had elected him, he not being of the Julian gens.) “He is not the fool the Augustales privately declare he is,” wrote Milo, “and has much learning, which cannot be said of many of the Augustales. He has given importance to freedmen, who are haughty and disdainful in the very face of the patricians. I believe that the Emperor enjoys their discomfiture and silent wrath. He is married, for the fourth time, to Agrippina, his own niece, which further inflames the Augustales and some of the old-fashioned Romans, and it is whispered that she is attempting to prevail on him to put aside his own son, Britannicus, in favor of her son by a former marriage, (to Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus) a handsome fair youth called L. Domitius Ahenobarbus whom some refer to as Nero. Whether the Empress will succeed or not is the subject of gossip in Rome, for Britannicus is a youth of remarkable qualities and able leadership and virtues, and Nero, though beguiling and full of charm and of a sweet voice and with a face which even Apollo would envy, is not of the character of Britannicus nor with his fortitude. Ah, well, I suppose you have heard of these matters. As a soldier, I am prudent and serve the Emperor and do not spread scandal. To do otherwise is not to be a soldier, with a soldier’s discipline.

“My dear cousin, you will remember that my dead Emperor, Tiberius, was not inclined to favor the Eastern religions, and destroyed a temple to Isis—which the present Emperor has rebuilt. However, there lingers in Rome a distrust of Eastern religions. The Jews were once quite zealous in proselyting in Rome, but on discovering Tiberius’ displeasure they desisted in overt attempts at conversion. This was very wise.

“But now we have many Christians in Rome, poor gentle people in the majority, who live and work in the noisome sections of the Trans Tiber. Most of them are former Jews, though they have gathered about them and converted many barbarians, slaves, miserable freedmen, starveling shopkeepers and laborers and workers in the manufactories. They have lived quietly amid their teachers and the evangelists from Israel, and have been dutiful and meek—and industrious, and, up to very recently they have aroused no antagonism though considerable amusement, and have been accused of worshiping an ass’s head.

“As a Christian, myself, I have sent them large gifts of money as the majority live in desperate poverty, for even the Christian Jews do not have the vitality and independence and strength of spirit of the ‘old’ Jews. I send them these gifts through a trusted young Praetorian, for it would not be seemly for a Praetorian General to alleviate the sufferings of what are referred to as ‘the Eastern rabble,’ though the present Emperor is indifferent to them.

“But two weeks ago the Christians aroused great anger in Rome. Devotees of Cybele met at her temple and then carried the goddess through the streets in a gilded chair, arrayed in gold and crimson. Romans believe in no gods, except for the ‘old’ Romans and elderly patriots, but they are afraid of them, and superstitious, and placate all the gods they encounter in processions or when they pass their temples. The procession of Cybele was very impressive, with many devotees in the parade, and all playing on zithers, harps and lutes and flutes and strange Eastern instruments. Multitudes halted to watch in pleasure, if not in reverence.

“The procession was just approaching the Via Appia when suddenly there was a surge in the crowd and about a hundred men appeared, flaming with righteous anger and with fiery eyes, and they screamed, Woe, woe to the harlot, Rome, and her abominations and her wicked gods and idols! For she is accursed and the wrath of God is about to fall upon her!’ The populace was astonished. The procession stopped short, and the music halted, and there was one vast indrawing or breath in amazement. Even Senators in their litters, on the way to the Senate, commanded that their bearers wait so that they could observe the confusion through their silken curtains.

“This would have been outrageous enough, but the Christians—for it was they—burst into the procession, seized the image of the goddess, Cybele, and smashed her in the running gutters, screaming the while, ‘Let all idolatry be destroyed, and the Kingdom of God be proclaimed while there is yet time before Rome is leveled to the ground!’ They trampled the gilded chair and the draperies in their gasping violence. Women and children screamed and men roared their fury. It happened in a twinkling. Then the Christians fled and seemingly dissolved into the very walls, and none could be found, though many pursued them with sticks and stones. The devotees of Cybele fell on their faces and their knees and wailed that their goddess would seek revenge for this outrage to her divinity, and that Rome, indeed, was in deadly danger. Thousands listened to them and shivered, and muttered imprecations on the ‘blasphemers.’

“Were this but a single incident it would soon be forgotten, but others have occurred if not in so spectacular a fashion. The Roman mob is very excitable, and loves riots and confusions, for their lives, as the conquerors of the world, is very dull. They adore scandal and rumor. Scores have ranged through the Trans Tiber, and on finding Christians they have severely beaten them before the very faces of the guards, who look aside. After all, it is thought, it creates amusement, and diversion, and if Romans have a victim they will not be so rebellious before the taxgatherers.

“I have secretly talked to many of the elders among the Christians—having them brought to my house on the Palatine at midnight—and have expressed to them my alarm and dismay, and my own anger, for the rioters have endangered their fellow Christians. The elders agreed with me, and deplored the excessive zeal of their flocks and have promised to calm and discipline them. I trust they will be effective.

“As so many of the Christians are former Jews the Jewish community in Rome is greatly alarmed at these demonstrations, for they know that the Romans will not, if enraged, make any distinction between the ‘old’ Jews and the Christians. I sympathize with their apprehension and fear, and have attempted to soothe them and have talked to them in Aramaic. But unfortunately this has further alarmed them, for am I not a Roman Praetorian, and possibly am I not a spy? As an imaginative people, they see monstrous enemies about them, as in the past, and for a time many of them dared not leave their houses. Even the prominent citizens among them, and their rabbis, tremble with dread. Is it not deplorable that a few heedless zealots can bring calamity to their law-abiding fellows? And, is it not unjust and sorrowful? I fear for both the Christians and the Jews.