by Gary M Burge
Appius was more relieved by the day. And relief brought with it ambivalent feelings about the Jews. Marcus did not trust them and implied that loyalty to Rome required a degree of distance from them, even a practiced hostility. He once commented, “You cannot favor those whom you rule. Or they will turn this favor into advantage.” It sounded like a quote from a military manual. And while Appius nodded at this, still, he was impressed with how the Jewish community, particularly Mariam, had stepped into Livia’s crisis and helped. He was grateful, though he wasn’t sure that was a good thing. He was in control. Still, perhaps he could wed gratefulness with control. Perhaps this could be seen as diplomacy, advancing Rome’s interests, while also offering thanks for their care.
The Pax Romana
The Roman republic ended with the assassination of Julius Caesar in 44 B.C., and this led to tremendous civil war in the empire. A general named Octavian rose to power, defeated the opponents of Julius Caesar and was hailed by the senate as “Caesar Augustus,” son of the divine Julius. Augustus became the first “emperor” of this period and ruled from 27 B.C. to A.D. 14.
Figure 8.2. A Roman coin with an image of Augustus Caesar on one side, and pax, “peace,” on the other
Augustus needed to restore the empire. He launched a number of aggressive programs and promised that the Pax Romana (“Peace of Rome”) would return to the empire. He promised economic prosperity, military security and domestic order. He defeated the pirates of the Mediterranean and secured trade routes. Then he built the largest army the world had ever seen. And, finally, he pursued the restoration of the order of the Roman family (familia). Augustus claimed this agenda would only work if every Roman and every conquered province gave its complete loyalty to the empire. The propaganda enforcing these ideals could be seen on coins, monuments, publications and temples throughout the Mediterranean.
In villages like Capernaum, the Romans brought both promise and captivity. On the one hand, the tyranny of Roman rule guaranteed a degree of stability and security, freedom from much banditry, and the prospect of economic development for the upper classes. On the other hand, it came with a price: heavy taxation and severe penalties for resistance. The poor on the fringes of the empire never benefited from the Pax Romana. It was a promise of peace for those who lived within the mainstream of Roman society and those of high stature in the provinces who joined the Roman imperial project.
These conflicted feelings gave birth to an assignment for Tullus. “Find out from this community what I can do for them. They have helped us. We may need this help again. Learn what they need, and as a token, perhaps we may provide it. Livia would not still be with us were it not for Mariam. I shall not forget her kindness.”
Ever since the day Tullus had met Tobias, the young scribe felt drawn to the Jewish community of Capernaum. He wanted to learn more, to explore what he had missed in his early years, to discover what it meant to be Jewish.
On the fifth day after Livia’s loss, Tobias invited Tullus to meet with the elders at his home. They would have a meal after dusk—something they did regularly—and Tullus was their guest. However, he did not want to be a spectacle.
It was dusk when Tullus arrived at Tobias’s modest home. He could see a gathering of about a dozen men. A low table was set up in the courtyard with cushions set around it. Tobias spotted Tullus and quickly walked over to the gate. He kissed Tullus generously, as if they were long-lost friends, and pulled him toward the lamp-lit table and its spread of food. There were mounds of fresh bread, olives, fruit from many trees, and a fish stew that seemed to be a staple in the village.
A Jewish Haverim
Devout Jews created voluntary associations in this era called Haverim (from Hebrew haver or chaver, “friend”). We think they met regularly for meals and discussed the law but also committed one another to purity and obedience to the law. Tobias, as a devout teacher of the law, is likely hosting such a gathering at his home. The meal would be followed by an exposition of the law, and then a lively discussion would ensue. In this case, Tobias reads from Psalm 17. Some scholars think that these Haverim met multiple times each week.
Jesus grew up knowing such gatherings well. It is likely that he gathered with men such as this throughout his adolescence and young adulthood and learned to debate the law and its application well before he began his ministry.
Throughout his adult ministry Jesus was likely invited to many Haverim. We have one account that describes it fully in Luke 7:36-50. Note that the men are reclining, not sitting, at low tables and are surrounded by cushions. Eating was done using bread as a utensil, and common dishes were shared.
“Young Tullus, come in, come in. We have much to discuss.” A servant helped remove Tullus’s sandals and washed his feet. As Tobias led him into the gathering of men, Tullus felt overwhelmed and wanted to retreat. What am I doing here? If Appius knew of this . . . Tobias took his arm and led him to the table where the other men were standing, waiting for Tobias to recline. “Sit here, Tullus, next to me, so we can talk.” All eyes were on them, curious how this young man dressed as a Roman was enjoying such a seat of honor.
Figure 8.3. A wall painting of a triclinium, an arrangement for reclining while dining
Galilean Stoneware
Figure 8.4. Examples of Galilean stoneware
Jews carefully monitored which materials were susceptible to impurity, or ritual uncleanness (Hebrew taharah). The second-century compilation of oral laws (the Mishnah) has an entire section devoted to “impurities.”a Domestic items such as bowls and cups made of pottery were deemed to be susceptible to impurity,b and if something unclean, such as an insect, landed on a pottery vessel, it had to be broken and its contents discarded. However, items made from stone were not susceptible.c But, being carved entirely from one piece of stone, they were expensive. Nevertheless stoneware was used widely in the first century by those committed to purity.
Archaeologists have discovered significant quantities of stoneware throughout Israel where first-century Jewish communities have been excavated. Near Sepphoris the remains of what appears to have been a stone utensil factory have been discovered.
This explains Tobias’s use of stoneware at his table. He is a devout Jew, likely a Pharisee, and deeply committed to purity law.
aMishnah Order 6, Tohorot.
bLev 11:33; Mishnah Kelim 2-10.
cMishnah Kelim 10:1.
After Tobias offered a word of blessing, bowls of cool water were passed around for washing. Soon everyone was drinking red wine from expertly carved stone cups.
Plates and bowls circulated, and Tobias took bread, tore it and, accompanied by his rich laughter, handed half to Tullus. Together they used the bread to dig into the fish stew that was steaming on the table. Figs, olives and spicy fish sauce circulated generously as the men talked and laughed, and in some corners enjoyed mild arguments about village matters. Tullus listened and felt strangely at home. It was a feeling he had never experienced in Gallica. Or in Appius’s own household.
When the meal was winding down, the men looked to Tobias to open its next chapter. He reached for a scroll and, opening it, read aloud:
My steps have held to your paths;
my feet have not stumbled.
I call on you, my God, for you will answer me;
turn your ear to me and hear my prayer.
Show me the wonders of your great love,
you who save by your right hand
those who take refuge in you from their foes.
Keep me as the apple of your eye;
hide me in the shadow of your wings
from the wicked who are out to destroy me,
from my mortal enemies who surround me.
They close up their callous hearts,
and their mouths speak with arrogance.
They have tracked me down, they now surround me,
with eyes alert, to throw me to the ground.
They are like a lion hungry for prey,
&nbs
p; like a fierce lion crouching in cover.
After the reading there was silence. Tobias began to explain what this text from the Psalms meant. When he was done, the room erupted into a cacophony of noise, as debate flew from every quarter. How do we keep ourselves on the right path? Is God’s faithfulness awaiting our righteousness? What will God do to save us? Who are our enemies who surround us? Should we act to defeat them or should we wait on God?
Tobias, in the lowest of whispers, interpreted to Tullus what it all meant. Some of the men were waiting on God for their redemption; others believed that redemption required taking action. Moses’ confrontation with Pharaoh was a favorite metaphor. “And if Moses had done nothing, we would be eating this bread in Egypt tonight!” they protested. Tullus wondered whether the men were being discreet for his sake. Is Rome the mortal enemy that the Jewish God will defeat? Is Rome the fierce lion, the implacable enemy who loves violence and conquest? Do some of these men want to fight Appius? Do I belong to the wrong side?
Tobias raised his hand, and the table was silenced. “We need to hear from Tullus, my friends.” Tullus was petrified. He could not, would not, comment on a passage like this. What was Tobias thinking?
“Tullus, tell us your story. Tell us about your home in Emesa. Tell us about your life. We want to know you.”
Jewish Resistance
Jewish leadership agreed that the Roman occupation (just like that of the Greeks earlier) was offensive and needed to end. But how this would happen was hotly disputed. And the debate around Tobias’s table is representative. Should they fight the Romans with weapons? Should they wait for God to intervene? Should they separate themselves from all contact with Rome? Or should they collaborate in order to make their life better and perhaps win more freedom?
Even Jesus’ political outlook was tested. In Mark 12:13-17 some of the leaders asked him whether they should pay the imperial tax to Caesar. This was a thinly veiled test. It was less about taxes and chiefly about resistance. Should Jews cooperate with Rome or resist?
Tullus was stunned. Here were at least a dozen men and a handful of servants, each staring at him, leaning in, eager to hear his every word. Never had he been given this honor by the Romans. The oil lamps arrayed on the table were reflecting in each man’s eyes, while shadows played on the walls of the courtyard. It was unnerving. The room was silent. Tullus heard crickets outside. The wicks on the oil lights spit and hissed as the oil burned on their fringes.
Tullus began with his capture, his service for Legion Gallica in the household of Appius, their many campaigns, and finally arrived at the disaster in Dura-Europos. He went on to tell about how Appius was reassigned to Capernaum, but he did not mention Appius’s problem with his arm. He emphasized how good Appius’s household had been to him. He painted rich pictures of their household members: the slaves, Gaius who directed them, Livia, and even the present company of soldiers who lived in the town. “They are here simply to oversee the tax collection, and that is all,” he urged. But few were convinced.
“And why should we pay taxes at all?” a voice queried from a darker corner.
Tobias immediately shot a look so severe that the question was dead on arrival. Tullus would not be interrogated.
“And you, Tullus. How does it feel to be a Jew and now serving this empire?” Tobias was trying to be diplomatic, but even he did not seem to be able to help asking a faintly pointed question.
“I do not know. I simply know that I am grateful to be here. I never expected the open hand each of you has given me. And yet I also know that my fate would have been far worse if a centurion other than Appius had taken me. And I tell you this, too. Your fate will be different if another replaces Appius. There are other legionnaires who are severe and cruel. Appius is neither of these. He is a good man who treats his household with honor. And he will do the same for you.”
“And how can we be sure of this, Tullus? There are some outside this room who would do violence to these soldiers.” Tobias was looking directly at him, and everyone waited for his answer.
“Perhaps some contribution, some exchange of gifts, something that will show good will on both sides. Through the hands of Mariam you saved Livia, the woman of Appius’s household. He has not forgotten. And so I ask: What gift would you receive from Appius?”
“Our freedom!” shouted a voice, and everyone laughed. Tobias took it as good humor and held his hand aloft for more silence.
“Perhaps he could help this poor village with something it has never had.” Tobias was thinking.
“Anything, Tobias. Give me an idea, and I am sure I can make it so.”
“A synagogue.” At this, the room fell into an even deeper silence. Surrounding villages larger than Capernaum each had houses of gathering where prayers could be said, meetings held, and a small school established. “We meet in homes during the winter and under the olive trees during the summer. But we have never had a house of prayer. Could he help us build one?”
Tobias resisted the temptation to mention that the centurion could use some of their own money that he collected.
“A house of prayer?” Tullus began to think about it. He knew that Appius had surplus money. He had heard him talk about it on many occasions. The cost of his latest sculpture would alone lay the foundation for such a building.
Tullus looked around the room. “I think this could happen.”
9
Capernaum’s Synagogue
Appius was intrigued by Tullus’s recommendation. He explained it to Marcus and the other soldiers as a means of winning the support of the Jews in Capernaum. “A diplomatic overture,” Appius said. Most, however, thought otherwise. Particularly Marcus. Appius had softened, and the episode with Livia and Mariam had yielded an unpredicted result. Appius had begun to view the Jews differently. Marcus found this worrisome.
In the same week that Tullus brought the recommendation to him, Appius hosted a man he was eager to meet: a tax collector of western Galilee named Chuza. Marcus had done some research on him: he was a Jew related to the Herodian family ruling western Galilee, a cousin of Herod Antipas, perhaps. He and his wife, Joanna, lived in Sepphoris (in his new palace on the Sea of Tiberius) and were enormously wealthy. He was the chief financial steward handling the budgets for Herod’s region, but apparently he had his own tax business on the side. He had purchased the right to collect Rome’s taxes around Capernaum, and it was proving profitable. For the most part everyone in Capernaum despised Chuza. He paid the tax bill Rome required of the region, but he also took profits over and above whenever he could by charging surpluses. The system was rife with corruption.
Chuza traveled with a small entourage of assistants and guards. There were ten of them, and they all arrived on horseback. Gaius met them at the gate, and Appius greeted them in the courtyard, formally and with reserve. The Romans wore their finest uniforms, and Gaius served wine and cuisine that befit the status they wanted to convey.
“Chuza, peace to you. You have traveled far. Let my servants care for your men while we talk.” Soon wine, pears and figs, many cheeses, bread and seasoned fish on platters were circulating among the men as they admired Appius’s rebuilt garden, his statues and the decorations on the walls now under way. Appius and Chuza, followed by their personal assistants, walked to the meeting room, where Livia awaited with even more expensive fare. Appius was clearly delighted to see how beautiful and vibrant she looked. She seemed to have strongly recovered. Chuza noticed her as well.
“So I see you are well settled into one of our little villas.” Chuza spoke to Appius while looking at Livia, clearly seeking an opening with her. Tullus noted it immediately. Chuza kept scanning the room, sizing up what Appius had done with the place.
“Indeed. We have a good company of men, they have a camp nearby, and we are in regular communication with Legion Gallica in Raphana. And the village has welcomed us.”
“The village. This is a useless place, and so poor that it barely pays us. It is the w
ay station that counts here. Trade moves through Capernaum from both north and south, and if caravans pass through the district, they must pay. I have men working here, and they will look to you for reinforcement. They will tell you what they need.” Tullus was surprised. Did this man just give Appius an order?
Chuza of Sepphoris
Figure 9.1. Provincial coins struck by Herod Antipas of Galilee
Luke 8:2-3 refers to wealthy Galileans who financially supported the ministry of Jesus. Here we learn about a woman named Joanna and her friend Susanna, who helped finance Jesus’ ministry. Luke adds that Joanna’s husband, named Chuza, “was the financial steward of Herod.” From this we can surmise: Chuza worked for Herod Antipas in west Galilee, handling his financial affairs. He likely lived either in Sepphoris or Antipas’s new city of Tiberius (on the Sea of Galilee), and possibly had no idea that his wife was aiding a Jewish prophet that Antipas himself suspected to be a danger to his rule. Chuza was no doubt wealthy, and in this story he is the “tax collector” (sometimes called “tax farmers”) of the Capernaum district.
This means that Chuza would have purchased the privilege of collecting taxes for Rome as an investment. Once he submitted to Herod Antipas what was due from the province, he could keep the surplus. In other words, he could exceed the formally assessed tax amount as a return on his own investment. It goes without saying that such a system led to enormous corruption and tax oppression among the poor.
Chuza indicates that he has “men working for him” as tax collectors. In Matthew 9:9 we learn one of their names. He is Matthew, whom Jesus will call away from his work and make an apostle (he is also called Levi, Mk 2:14). Matthew will write our Gospel by that name.
