Danger From Both Sides In Jerusalem
Stories
Contents
“Danger From Both Sides In Jerusalem” by David O. Bales
“And The Most Difficult Of These” by David O. Bales
Danger From Both Sides In Jerusalem
by David O. Bales
Matthew 22:15-22
“No, I’m not what you call a ‘Jew-lover,’” Caepio said. “The Jews call me a ‘God-fearer.’ There’s a lot of people like me — taught by Greek scholars, working for our Roman homeland, yet once we get to Palestine can’t be satisfied with Rome’s worn-out gods. They only bolster the empire’s strangle-hold on the world. After years of being away from Rome, people begin to see that Rome’s religious patriotism only bolsters the nation’s greed.”
“Not me,” Gabinius said and laughed. “And better be careful who hears you say such things. If you weren’t my favorite cousin, I might be turning you over to the tribune of the cohort right here.”
The two Romans stood together just inside the Jerusalem temple’s broad precincts. Caepio raised his voice, “That’s what I mean.” Gabinius frowned at him and they looked around to make sure they weren’t alerting others to their conversation. Caepio whispered, “All Rome cares about is maintaining power over the world and extorting taxes. Sure, Rome’s army protects my fish processing and Rome’s people consume my product. I admit Rome has benefited me all my life. But since I’ve been here I’ve started to question what’s really important and what’s really true.”
“So you join with them in their synagogues,” Gabinius said, “and you’ve learned to speak their abominable language, but you don’t call yourself a ‘Jew-lover.’ I ask you: If it has donkey fur, brays like a donkey, and smells like a donkey, well?”
Caepio dealt in Lake Galilee’s fish products. He’d trekked to Jerusalem early for the Passover in order to secure good lodging. He took a deep breath, calmed himself and spoke quietly, “Jews are serious about the only true God,” he said. “Not like what we grew up with in Rome: attending a shrine, watching an animal killed and then sitting around with our equals — but never less than our equals — eating the slain animal. I’m not sure everything in the venerated Jewish scrolls is all true or all that helpful. But they’re devoted to their faith and try to maintain high moral standards. I’d trust a lot of them more than I trust most of our Roman countrymen.”
“So, did they … ah … cut off that little piece of your body?”
Caepio jerked his head back and said crisply, “No!”
Gabinius laughed and said, “And now you’re taken with this Galilean. Didn’t you get enough of him in Tiberius?”
“He never comes there. Itinerates the countryside and villages. Once I tracked him down. Got to hear him speak to a crowd for an hour. He’s a powerful person, one of their best. Most important: He isn’t gathering an army to toss Rome’s auxiliary legions out of their occupation duties. He teaches love and forgiveness and non-violence.”
“Really?” Gabinius said. “Did you know that a couple days after you arrived to Jerusalem he staged a little parade? Everybody’s yelling ‘Hosanna to the Son of David,’ and he dashes in here overturning the money changers’ tables and the seats of the dove sellers. Then, this should bother your newly-Jewish soul, he allows the blind and lame to enter into these temple precincts. I enjoyed that a lot. I could decipher enough of the religious leaders’ jabbering as they stamped away discussing about the blind and lame having been forbidden to enter the temple for nine hundred years.”
Caepio looked worried. “No, I hadn’t heard about that. Must’ve been Friday when I traveled to see the Herodium monument.”
“You see,” Gabinius said, “the tribune assigned me to keep an eye on Jesus since he got here. The government doesn’t want a problem with all your Jews and Jew-lovers gushing into the city for this festival. Worried about an uprising. And when Jesus arranged his theatrical entry to Jerusalem and his demonstration in the temple, that tipped off not only your religious leaders but my Roman superiors. I’m keeping a low profile, but seems he’s been on good terms with other centurions, so when I show up at the fringe of his group, no one looks worried. Believe me, Caepio, they should be.”
Caepio glanced around to ensure that no one had stepped near. “I didn’t realize there’d be a problem if he came to Jerusalem.”
“Been before. I wasn’t stationed here then; but word in the barracks is that the religious officials were all up in arms. Your lovely Jews! This is one fellow they didn’t want to see again.”
“Are you positive?”
“Got it from the tribune also.”
“I guess I haven’t been too close to his movement. I don’t know any of his followers in Tiberius. I’ve talked with a man he healed. Didn’t know he had opponents.”
“In Jerusalem opponents wait for him in every alley and cross street. That’s why our forces are on the alert and why Pilate’s arrived from Caesarea to monitor the situation. Others like your Jesus have thought they could say a few religious words, appoint themselves as leader and,” he held out his arms toward the crowd, “gather into their embrace all those Jews — that you so admire — who’d start cutting Roman throats. There’s always a few like this on the trade routes. Haven’t your salty vats been pilfered, your caravans robbed?”
“Once, eleven, twelve years ago; but, we’re quite secure in the Galilee. Granted, there’ll always be some tension between Rome’s auxiliaries and the Jews. Taxes and tax collectors continually an irritation. But I’ve never heard a whisper about insurrection.”
“Maybe because you’re not a Jew,” Gabinius said with a crooked smile.
The two cousins stood shoulder to shoulder now, looking through the smoke of burning sacrifices toward the crowds around the temple’s central shrine. Gabinius said in a more accommodating voice, “I’ll try to keep you apprised of what’s going on.”
Caepio nodded his thanks and turned to go. Gabinius said, “You better sidle up to your Jesus while you can, though I’d be cautious about being seen too much with him. Couple of days ago here I watched the Jews throwing their forces against him. Started over taxes. The super-religious Pharisees and Herodian loyalists. Thought they’d trick him into making a statement that would get him arrested by us or abandoned by the Jewish mobs.” He shook his head in wonder. “Jesus was pretty slick how he jumped between their nooses. I’ll acknowledge that. But, cousin Caepio, don’t expect it to continue. His days are numbered. Between the Romans of your birth and the Jews of your new affection, if he hangs around Jerusalem for another week, he’ll soon be hanging somewhere else.
Preaching point: Jesus was popular with many, but his time was running out.
* * *
And The Most Difficult Of These
by David O. Bales
1 Thessalonians 1:1-10
Another blustery dawn tossed the froth of waves up to the railing, yet Secundus again this morning stood near, staring east into the Aegean Sea. Sopater climbed up to the deck and scrambled over tousled ropes. “Good morning Brother Secundus,” he said, speaking quietly because Secundus appeared to be exercising a prayer routine that, so far on this third day of their journey, he hadn’t shared with his fellow Christians.
Secundus turned slowly from the railing, his thoughts obviously still upon far away things.
Sopater had met Secundus a few days before when the churches in Beroea and Thessalonica sent representatives to meet with Timothy and Paul, carrying offerings to Jerusalem for the needy Christians. For Sopater this was the first time he’d been more than a week’s walk from home. Yet he understood that Secundus had traveled much. As Secundus remained silent, Sopater said, “Remind you of your other travels?”
Secundus looked to sea again, then back to Sopater, “Not exactly.”
Sopater didn’t know what Secundus might mean, so he waited for him to explain.
“Actually,” he paused, “a little, yes. I traveled some with my father when I was a child. Haven’t for years now.” He sighed deeply and glanced sideways again to the sea.“I’ve been thinking about my father. I went to see him before I left.”
“Did your family hold a celebration for you?”
“Anything but,” he said, flinging his arm toward the sea, an anguished expression on his face.
“If you will permit me,” Sopater said, “I will entreat the Lord for relief of your pain.”
Secundus smiled at this quaintly phrased offer. In the last two days he’d wondered if Sopater could be a friend. He’d put off mentioning anything about his family situation, although Aristarchus from his Christian gathering knew. Maybe Sopater was the person to share his burden.
“To let you know, my father was an olive-oil wholesaler,” Secundus said. “For the first years in Father’s business, everything he attempted succeeded. Never a kind person, certainly not an honest one, but his business grew like a field of weeds after a spring rain. He borrowed money at a hellish rate; but, his business ventures blossomed until he even owned an olive pressing mill and contracted for amphorae made with his name imprinted into them. All he did was work, travel, wrangle with other producers, customers, carters and ship-owners. Truly, the only time I saw him was when he took me on a ship like this to the ports where he delivered the oil. When he was aboard ship, there was nothing for him to do. That’s why he’d take one of us boys along and drill us in how the business was run so that someday we’d help him. As soon as we reached home port, however, we never saw him until for some reason he chose one of us to accompany him on another voyage.”
Secundus looked down at his sandaled feet on the ship’s worn deck planks and shuffled slightly. “In one season of foul weather his businesses collapsed. Debts swooped in from every direction. That was bad enough, but he cheated his biggest customer. I mean a big customer. Fellow could have bought and sold the majority of Rome’s senators. The guy was so powerful he meted out his own justice. Swept away all our properties and possessions, dumped Mother and us children onto the street and like a private dictator he pronounced Father guilty, sliced off his little fingers, and set him as door keeper outside his palace gate. Outside on a high stool. Everyday morning till night. For the rest of his life. Showing the world you don’t mess with Mister Big.
“The magistrates allowed this?” Sopater asked.
“Like I said, the guy owns half of Achaia and two-thirds of Macedonia.
“Your father probably has contacts around the Mediterranean. He could flee.”
“First, he has no friends. But no matter what, he’d be found. Missing both little fingers. The slave-chasers would snatch him in no time and he’d lose another part of his body.”
Sopater winched and shook his head vigorously. He stepped beside Secundus to share his view over the waves rippling against the ship. They stared at the sea as Secundus said, “I went to see him before I left. He’s never approved of my being a Christian. He can’t do anything about it. What good to cut me out of his will when there’s nothing to cut? He sits on his high stool with the look of utter misery. That day smoke was wafting from the kitchen low along the wall and into our eyes. He glanced at me as if my coming added to an intolerable burden, the last straw in suffering.
“I explained I was in charge of our gathering’s contributions to the poor Christians in Jerusalem. I said I’d think about him on board ship, like the old days. I told him I might never return to Thessalonica, perhaps remain in Jerusalem or continue traveling as a missionary. He raised his shoulder next to me and turned away in silence. He’s used to silent communicating. No one speaks to him. They come, gesture to him haughtily and he bows and opens the gate — like a human door latch. He’s practiced in being treated as a mere animal and that’s how he ignored me.
“In the past I’ve tried to explain about Christ who suffered also, but unjustly, and for our sake. I’ve described my four years in the Christian gathering, about our joy, about Paul, what he told us — that we’re beloved, our gathering complimented, that we’ve become an example to others. Paul even wrote us a letter after he left.” He turned to Sopater, “Anyone ever write you a letter?”
“No, I agree that’s an extraordinary thing about Paul.”
“I think most of us in the gathering have pretty well memorized what he said about faith, love, and hope. Before just words, now power.”
The two had to move as the sailors scurried to hoist more morning sail. Among the bustle, Secundus said, “When I’ve talked to Father about Paul and Christ, I’ve tried not to compare him to them, but it didn’t work. All he said was, ‘So, you’ve got a new god and a new father too.’ I pray for him, but after eight years of seeing him on his stool, hard even to imagine his responding to God. When I left him the other day, I felt as hopeless as he was.”
The sun was up now and the two turned away from its mirror of the sea blinding them. “Father just seems beyond God’s grace.”
After a moment Sopater said, “Let’s go below to gather with the others for prayer.”
Secundus agreed and together they walked toward the hatch.
Sopater said, “I’ll be praying for your father … and for you that you maintain hope for your father. I suggest that you practice praying for hope. Use Paul’s words and speak to God, ‘faith, love, hope. Faith, love, hope. Faith, love, hope, and the most difficult for me is hope.”
Preaching point: Praying for hope.
(“He [Paul] was accompanied by Sopater son of Pyrrhus from Beroea, by Aristarchus and Secundus from Thessalonica, by Gaius from Derbe, and by Timothy, as well as by Tychicus and Trophimus from Asia.” Acts 20:4)
*****************************************
StoryShare, October 18, 2020 issue.
Copyright 2020 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
“Danger From Both Sides In Jerusalem” by David O. Bales
“And The Most Difficult Of These” by David O. Bales
Danger From Both Sides In Jerusalem
by David O. Bales
Matthew 22:15-22
“No, I’m not what you call a ‘Jew-lover,’” Caepio said. “The Jews call me a ‘God-fearer.’ There’s a lot of people like me — taught by Greek scholars, working for our Roman homeland, yet once we get to Palestine can’t be satisfied with Rome’s worn-out gods. They only bolster the empire’s strangle-hold on the world. After years of being away from Rome, people begin to see that Rome’s religious patriotism only bolsters the nation’s greed.”
“Not me,” Gabinius said and laughed. “And better be careful who hears you say such things. If you weren’t my favorite cousin, I might be turning you over to the tribune of the cohort right here.”
The two Romans stood together just inside the Jerusalem temple’s broad precincts. Caepio raised his voice, “That’s what I mean.” Gabinius frowned at him and they looked around to make sure they weren’t alerting others to their conversation. Caepio whispered, “All Rome cares about is maintaining power over the world and extorting taxes. Sure, Rome’s army protects my fish processing and Rome’s people consume my product. I admit Rome has benefited me all my life. But since I’ve been here I’ve started to question what’s really important and what’s really true.”
“So you join with them in their synagogues,” Gabinius said, “and you’ve learned to speak their abominable language, but you don’t call yourself a ‘Jew-lover.’ I ask you: If it has donkey fur, brays like a donkey, and smells like a donkey, well?”
Caepio dealt in Lake Galilee’s fish products. He’d trekked to Jerusalem early for the Passover in order to secure good lodging. He took a deep breath, calmed himself and spoke quietly, “Jews are serious about the only true God,” he said. “Not like what we grew up with in Rome: attending a shrine, watching an animal killed and then sitting around with our equals — but never less than our equals — eating the slain animal. I’m not sure everything in the venerated Jewish scrolls is all true or all that helpful. But they’re devoted to their faith and try to maintain high moral standards. I’d trust a lot of them more than I trust most of our Roman countrymen.”
“So, did they … ah … cut off that little piece of your body?”
Caepio jerked his head back and said crisply, “No!”
Gabinius laughed and said, “And now you’re taken with this Galilean. Didn’t you get enough of him in Tiberius?”
“He never comes there. Itinerates the countryside and villages. Once I tracked him down. Got to hear him speak to a crowd for an hour. He’s a powerful person, one of their best. Most important: He isn’t gathering an army to toss Rome’s auxiliary legions out of their occupation duties. He teaches love and forgiveness and non-violence.”
“Really?” Gabinius said. “Did you know that a couple days after you arrived to Jerusalem he staged a little parade? Everybody’s yelling ‘Hosanna to the Son of David,’ and he dashes in here overturning the money changers’ tables and the seats of the dove sellers. Then, this should bother your newly-Jewish soul, he allows the blind and lame to enter into these temple precincts. I enjoyed that a lot. I could decipher enough of the religious leaders’ jabbering as they stamped away discussing about the blind and lame having been forbidden to enter the temple for nine hundred years.”
Caepio looked worried. “No, I hadn’t heard about that. Must’ve been Friday when I traveled to see the Herodium monument.”
“You see,” Gabinius said, “the tribune assigned me to keep an eye on Jesus since he got here. The government doesn’t want a problem with all your Jews and Jew-lovers gushing into the city for this festival. Worried about an uprising. And when Jesus arranged his theatrical entry to Jerusalem and his demonstration in the temple, that tipped off not only your religious leaders but my Roman superiors. I’m keeping a low profile, but seems he’s been on good terms with other centurions, so when I show up at the fringe of his group, no one looks worried. Believe me, Caepio, they should be.”
Caepio glanced around to ensure that no one had stepped near. “I didn’t realize there’d be a problem if he came to Jerusalem.”
“Been before. I wasn’t stationed here then; but word in the barracks is that the religious officials were all up in arms. Your lovely Jews! This is one fellow they didn’t want to see again.”
“Are you positive?”
“Got it from the tribune also.”
“I guess I haven’t been too close to his movement. I don’t know any of his followers in Tiberius. I’ve talked with a man he healed. Didn’t know he had opponents.”
“In Jerusalem opponents wait for him in every alley and cross street. That’s why our forces are on the alert and why Pilate’s arrived from Caesarea to monitor the situation. Others like your Jesus have thought they could say a few religious words, appoint themselves as leader and,” he held out his arms toward the crowd, “gather into their embrace all those Jews — that you so admire — who’d start cutting Roman throats. There’s always a few like this on the trade routes. Haven’t your salty vats been pilfered, your caravans robbed?”
“Once, eleven, twelve years ago; but, we’re quite secure in the Galilee. Granted, there’ll always be some tension between Rome’s auxiliaries and the Jews. Taxes and tax collectors continually an irritation. But I’ve never heard a whisper about insurrection.”
“Maybe because you’re not a Jew,” Gabinius said with a crooked smile.
The two cousins stood shoulder to shoulder now, looking through the smoke of burning sacrifices toward the crowds around the temple’s central shrine. Gabinius said in a more accommodating voice, “I’ll try to keep you apprised of what’s going on.”
Caepio nodded his thanks and turned to go. Gabinius said, “You better sidle up to your Jesus while you can, though I’d be cautious about being seen too much with him. Couple of days ago here I watched the Jews throwing their forces against him. Started over taxes. The super-religious Pharisees and Herodian loyalists. Thought they’d trick him into making a statement that would get him arrested by us or abandoned by the Jewish mobs.” He shook his head in wonder. “Jesus was pretty slick how he jumped between their nooses. I’ll acknowledge that. But, cousin Caepio, don’t expect it to continue. His days are numbered. Between the Romans of your birth and the Jews of your new affection, if he hangs around Jerusalem for another week, he’ll soon be hanging somewhere else.
Preaching point: Jesus was popular with many, but his time was running out.
* * *
And The Most Difficult Of These
by David O. Bales
1 Thessalonians 1:1-10
Another blustery dawn tossed the froth of waves up to the railing, yet Secundus again this morning stood near, staring east into the Aegean Sea. Sopater climbed up to the deck and scrambled over tousled ropes. “Good morning Brother Secundus,” he said, speaking quietly because Secundus appeared to be exercising a prayer routine that, so far on this third day of their journey, he hadn’t shared with his fellow Christians.
Secundus turned slowly from the railing, his thoughts obviously still upon far away things.
Sopater had met Secundus a few days before when the churches in Beroea and Thessalonica sent representatives to meet with Timothy and Paul, carrying offerings to Jerusalem for the needy Christians. For Sopater this was the first time he’d been more than a week’s walk from home. Yet he understood that Secundus had traveled much. As Secundus remained silent, Sopater said, “Remind you of your other travels?”
Secundus looked to sea again, then back to Sopater, “Not exactly.”
Sopater didn’t know what Secundus might mean, so he waited for him to explain.
“Actually,” he paused, “a little, yes. I traveled some with my father when I was a child. Haven’t for years now.” He sighed deeply and glanced sideways again to the sea.“I’ve been thinking about my father. I went to see him before I left.”
“Did your family hold a celebration for you?”
“Anything but,” he said, flinging his arm toward the sea, an anguished expression on his face.
“If you will permit me,” Sopater said, “I will entreat the Lord for relief of your pain.”
Secundus smiled at this quaintly phrased offer. In the last two days he’d wondered if Sopater could be a friend. He’d put off mentioning anything about his family situation, although Aristarchus from his Christian gathering knew. Maybe Sopater was the person to share his burden.
“To let you know, my father was an olive-oil wholesaler,” Secundus said. “For the first years in Father’s business, everything he attempted succeeded. Never a kind person, certainly not an honest one, but his business grew like a field of weeds after a spring rain. He borrowed money at a hellish rate; but, his business ventures blossomed until he even owned an olive pressing mill and contracted for amphorae made with his name imprinted into them. All he did was work, travel, wrangle with other producers, customers, carters and ship-owners. Truly, the only time I saw him was when he took me on a ship like this to the ports where he delivered the oil. When he was aboard ship, there was nothing for him to do. That’s why he’d take one of us boys along and drill us in how the business was run so that someday we’d help him. As soon as we reached home port, however, we never saw him until for some reason he chose one of us to accompany him on another voyage.”
Secundus looked down at his sandaled feet on the ship’s worn deck planks and shuffled slightly. “In one season of foul weather his businesses collapsed. Debts swooped in from every direction. That was bad enough, but he cheated his biggest customer. I mean a big customer. Fellow could have bought and sold the majority of Rome’s senators. The guy was so powerful he meted out his own justice. Swept away all our properties and possessions, dumped Mother and us children onto the street and like a private dictator he pronounced Father guilty, sliced off his little fingers, and set him as door keeper outside his palace gate. Outside on a high stool. Everyday morning till night. For the rest of his life. Showing the world you don’t mess with Mister Big.
“The magistrates allowed this?” Sopater asked.
“Like I said, the guy owns half of Achaia and two-thirds of Macedonia.
“Your father probably has contacts around the Mediterranean. He could flee.”
“First, he has no friends. But no matter what, he’d be found. Missing both little fingers. The slave-chasers would snatch him in no time and he’d lose another part of his body.”
Sopater winched and shook his head vigorously. He stepped beside Secundus to share his view over the waves rippling against the ship. They stared at the sea as Secundus said, “I went to see him before I left. He’s never approved of my being a Christian. He can’t do anything about it. What good to cut me out of his will when there’s nothing to cut? He sits on his high stool with the look of utter misery. That day smoke was wafting from the kitchen low along the wall and into our eyes. He glanced at me as if my coming added to an intolerable burden, the last straw in suffering.
“I explained I was in charge of our gathering’s contributions to the poor Christians in Jerusalem. I said I’d think about him on board ship, like the old days. I told him I might never return to Thessalonica, perhaps remain in Jerusalem or continue traveling as a missionary. He raised his shoulder next to me and turned away in silence. He’s used to silent communicating. No one speaks to him. They come, gesture to him haughtily and he bows and opens the gate — like a human door latch. He’s practiced in being treated as a mere animal and that’s how he ignored me.
“In the past I’ve tried to explain about Christ who suffered also, but unjustly, and for our sake. I’ve described my four years in the Christian gathering, about our joy, about Paul, what he told us — that we’re beloved, our gathering complimented, that we’ve become an example to others. Paul even wrote us a letter after he left.” He turned to Sopater, “Anyone ever write you a letter?”
“No, I agree that’s an extraordinary thing about Paul.”
“I think most of us in the gathering have pretty well memorized what he said about faith, love, and hope. Before just words, now power.”
The two had to move as the sailors scurried to hoist more morning sail. Among the bustle, Secundus said, “When I’ve talked to Father about Paul and Christ, I’ve tried not to compare him to them, but it didn’t work. All he said was, ‘So, you’ve got a new god and a new father too.’ I pray for him, but after eight years of seeing him on his stool, hard even to imagine his responding to God. When I left him the other day, I felt as hopeless as he was.”
The sun was up now and the two turned away from its mirror of the sea blinding them. “Father just seems beyond God’s grace.”
After a moment Sopater said, “Let’s go below to gather with the others for prayer.”
Secundus agreed and together they walked toward the hatch.
Sopater said, “I’ll be praying for your father … and for you that you maintain hope for your father. I suggest that you practice praying for hope. Use Paul’s words and speak to God, ‘faith, love, hope. Faith, love, hope. Faith, love, hope, and the most difficult for me is hope.”
Preaching point: Praying for hope.
(“He [Paul] was accompanied by Sopater son of Pyrrhus from Beroea, by Aristarchus and Secundus from Thessalonica, by Gaius from Derbe, and by Timothy, as well as by Tychicus and Trophimus from Asia.” Acts 20:4)
*****************************************
StoryShare, October 18, 2020 issue.
Copyright 2020 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
