A Week in the Life of Rome

by James L. Papandrea

  A WEEK IN

  THE LIFE OF

  ROME

  JAMES L. PAPANDREA

  THIS BOOK ABOUT THE PAST

  IS DEDICATED TO THE FUTURE:

  To my birthday buddy,

  Julia

  To my confirmation sponsee,

  Evan

  To our godson,

  Jackson

  And to our nieces and nephews,

  Paige, Spencer, Claire,

  and Daltin

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  The Main Characters

  1 The Day of the Moon

  2 The Day of Mars

  3 The Day of Mercury

  4 The Day of Jupiter

  5 The Day of Venus

  6 The Day of Saturn

  7 The Day of the Sun

  Map of First-Century Rome

  Other Books in the Series

  Praise for A Week in the Life of Rome

  About the Author

  More Titles from InterVarsity Press

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I AM ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE who think out loud, trying out ideas as I hear them come out of my mouth. That means that my trusted colleagues and my closest friends are often the unfortunate ones who have to hear the untested theories and half-baked ideas that will never get published. I want to thank them for their patience and for their honest feedback in conversation. In terms of the present book, I especially want to thank some of those colleagues who are also friends, including Mike Aquilina, Charlie Cosgrove, and Stephanie VanSlyke. Your feedback and conversations about this book were very much appreciated. I also want to thank Dan Reid and everyone at InterVarsity Press for making me feel welcome in the IVP family.

  THE MAIN CHARACTERS

  Stachys—A Greek freedman, about forty-five years old. Formerly a slave in the household of Urbanus, he is now a client of Urbanus and a businessman. As a freedman of a Roman citizen, he has citizenship. Recently “married” to Maria (though they do not have a legally registered marriage), he is the stepfather of Marcus. He has a twelve-year-old son from a previous marriage, named Tertius, whose mother died in childbirth when Tertius was only a year old. About seven years after our story, Stachys will be greeted by the apostle Paul when he writes his letter to the Roman Christians, in Romans 16:9.

  Maria—A formerly wealthy Jewish widow from Jerusalem, who supported the ministry of Jesus and the apostles. After James was martyred, when Peter escaped from prison, she spent the last of her fortune smuggling Peter out of Jerusalem, bringing him to Rome in the year AD 42, along with her son, Marcus, and her servant, Rhoda. She married the widower Stachys just before the Jews were expelled from Rome by the Emperor Claudius, which meant that she and Rhoda could stay in Rome. Maria is known to the church as Mary of Jerusalem (Acts 12:12).

  Tertius—Stachys’s twelve-year-old son and Maria’s stepson. His mother died in childbirth when he was only a year old. When Tertius is older, he will work as a scribe for the apostle Paul and will take Paul’s dictation for the letter to the Romans. He will take that opportunity to greet those of his home church in Romans 16:22.

  Marcus—Maria’s son and Stachys’s stepson, he is twenty-eight years old. Cousin to the apostle Barnabas and associate of the apostle Paul, Marcus is also known as John Mark and was a traveling companion of Paul and Barnabas on their first missionary journey (Acts 15:37-39; Col 4:10; Philem 24). Marcus had returned to Rome to bring his mother out of the city following the edict of Claudius, but he arrived to find that his mother had married Stachys. Now he is leading the house church that meets in Stachys’s home as well as leading the whole church of Rome as they await the return of the apostle Peter from the Jerusalem Council. He is also working on writing his Gospel.

  Urbanus—A wealthy Roman landowner and merchant of the equestrian class. He is the patron of his former slave Stachys. He is in his mid-fifties, and he is more than twenty years older than his wife. He and his wife, Sabina, have two daughters, Tryphaena and Tryphosa. He will be greeted by the apostle Paul when he writes his letter to the Roman Christians, in Romans 16:9.

  Sabina—The wife of Urbanus, from a wealthy family of the senate class. Mother of Tryphaena and Tryphosa. She is about thirty years old.

  Rhoda—A Jewish freedwoman, formerly a servant in the Jerusalem household of Maria (Acts 12:13). No one is sure exactly how old she is.

  Philologus—A free, but poor, Roman. He does not have citizenship because he is a “foreigner,” from outside Italy. He is one of the deacons in the church of Rome and is in his late twenties. Philologus and Julia have five children: Prima, Olympas, twins Nereus and Nerea, and Anastasia. Philologus, Julia, and three of their children will be greeted by the apostle Paul when he writes his letter to the Roman Christians, in Romans 16:15.

  Julia—Philologus’s common-law wife. She was “married” to Philologus at age twelve, though they do not have a registered marriage. She is nineteen years old and has five children, which is unusual—not that she had so many children in so short a time but that all five of them have survived. Julia, her husband, Philologus, and three of their children will be greeted by the apostle Paul when he writes his letter to the Roman Christians, in Romans 16:15.

  Scrap—An eight-year-old slave boy in the household of the senator Titus Flavius Clemens the Elder. He will take his master’s name when he is freed and will eventually be known to the church as Clement, bishop of Rome.

  Clemens the Younger—The son of Titus Flavius Clemens the Elder and a deacon in the church of Rome. He will later be called Clement when he is mentioned by Paul in Philippians 4:3.

  Prisca—The daughter of Aquila and Priscilla. When they left Rome, she stayed behind to manage their awning shop. There was at one time a gathering of Jewish Christians who met in their shop, but that gathering is no longer meeting since the edict of Claudius banished Jews from Rome. The name Prisca is a shortened version of Priscilla, so references to Prisca in the letters of Paul are actually references to her mother, Priscilla.

  Pudens—A senator of Rome who is a Christian. He is mentioned in 2 Timothy 4:21. According to tradition, the apostle Peter made Pudens’s home the headquarters for his ministry in Rome. Pudens has two daughters, Pudenziana and Prassede.

  Lucius Geta—Prefect of the Praetorian Guard, which is the elite bodyguard of the emperor. The praetorians were very powerful in Rome. They had organized the assassination of the previous emperor, Caligula, and had put the present emperor, Claudius, on the throne. As prefect, Geta would have the ear of the emperor.

  Narcissus—One of the emperor Claudius’s most trusted freedmen. He was the emperor’s personal secretary, which meant that he had the power to grant favors and even advise the emperor on important appointments. He had Claudius’s third wife killed so that Agrippina, the mother of Nero, could take her place. Some of the slaves in Narcissus’s household were Christians.

  Linus (Aquilinus)—A leader or “shepherd” of one of the house churches in Rome. He presides over worship in a butcher’s apartment. After Peter’s martyrdom, Linus will become Peter’s first successor as the leader of the church in Rome. He will serve as bishop of Rome from the death of Peter until AD 76.

  Cletus (Anacletus)—Another shepherd of one of the house churches in Rome, he presides over the liturgy in the home of senator Pudens. He will succeed Linus as bishop of Rome from AD 76 to 88.

  Apelles—The shepherd of the house church that meets in his own apartment in Trans-Tiber, the poor neighborhood across the river. He will be greeted by the apostle Paul when he writes his letter to the Roman Christians, in Romans 16:10.

  Ampliatus—One of the deacons of the church in Rome. He will be greeted by the apostle Paul when he
writes his letter to the Roman Christians, in Romans 16:8.

  The year is AD 50. The apostles have just finished their meeting in Jerusalem, and the Christians of Rome await Peter’s return . . .

  1

  THE DAY OF THE MOON

  THE NIGHT SKY BLENDED INTO THE SEA, with no horizon and no light to be seen anywhere. The water was as dark as the bottomless pit of Tartarus, swirling and coughing, spitting and slamming itself against the hull, threatening to swallow the ship whole. Rain poured down in relentless sheets, cold and piercing through cloaks and tunics, right to the skin and bone. The ship lurched under the punishment of the waves, sweeping the feet out from under sailors and passengers alike, sending flailing arms groping toward the nearest rail. One passenger, who was leaning over the side only a moment ago, was suddenly no longer there. His screams were quickly stifled by the sound of the storm and the waves, and his fellow passengers could only look on, horrified and helpless, grasping and gripping whatever they could to hold on for their lives. Peter said a short prayer for the poor man’s soul, and then closed his eyes as he tried to keep his last meal down. A flash of lightning lit up the whole ship like a curtain torn open to the daylight, and then there was the roar and echoing boom of the thunder, and it was dark again.

  Stachys woke up with a start and quickly looked around to see whether anyone was there to witness the embarrassing fact that he had nodded off in his patron’s atrium. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that he was alone. A summer breeze blew through the atrium, warm and humid, and the linen awning over the skylight rippled gently. Stachys was grateful that the awning kept the sun out of his eyes. He looked down at his tanned hands, resting on the folds of the formal toga his patron had given him. Soon, Stachys’s lanky Greek limbs became uncomfortable swimming in the sea of white wool, and his hands became nervous, so he occupied them by running his fingers through his blond, curly hair and scratching his head.

  “Stachys, my friend!” Urbanus entered the atrium and walked quickly over to Stachys, gripping his arm warmly. Urbanus was a large man for a Roman and could almost look Stachys in the eye. He had a mop of dark hair on his head that was once cut to match the emperor’s hairstyle but had gone way past the time for another haircut. Urbanus smiled, genuinely glad to see Stachys, as his face lit up under his bushy, black eyebrows.

  Stachys stood up tall, proud to be greeted so warmly by his patron. Muscular and athletic, he would have looked like a Greek statue, if not for the sun, now in his eyes, coming through the atrium skylight. He blinked with humility. “Domin—um, Salve. I trust you are well. And your noble wife, Sabina, and your daughters.”

  “Yes, yes, same as yesterday. Stachys, what are you doing here all by yourself?” Urbanus made a mocking frown. “I thought you had neglected to come pay your respects today. Why didn’t you visit me in your turn? It’s not like you to be late.”

  “Well, the truth is, I wasn’t late. I’ve been here all morning, but I let the others go ahead of me.”

  Urbanus made another face, an exaggerated look of confusion. “What? Why would you humiliate yourself like that, letting my other clients of lower status go ahead of you? And after they probably fought and jockeyed for position among themselves, arguing over petty differences in their net worth just to see who would be first to grovel at my feet?”

  The Patron-Client System

  Roman society functioned as a network of relationships, and some of the most important relationships were those between people who were not equals. Virtually everyone in Roman culture had a patron, a person or organization who was more wealthy and powerful, who could help out in times of need. Since life in Rome was precarious at best, and the economy of the empire was in a constant downward spiral, people needed a safety net, and that came in the form of a patron. For many people in the middle and upper classes, a man, or the head of a household, would be a client to a wealthier patron. The patron provided some measure of security and would help if the client ran into legal trouble. He would also provide gifts and occasional invitations to dinner, and sometimes even daily baskets of food or coins. In return, clients would pay their respects to the patron each morning and also provide political and moral support in the courts and when it came to voting.

  Freedmen were automatically considered the clients of their former masters, and many of them even continued to live within the household. Most freed slaves in Rome continued at least some kind of relationship with their former owners.

  Working-class people, who may not have had a personal patron, had their guilds. The guild functioned as a kind of fraternity, and many of these clubs did have wealthy patrons who took some responsibility for the membership. Funeral clubs made sure that a person without means would receive a decent burial when the time came. The very poor and immigrants might not have had a patron, which meant that they were always on the verge of destitution.

  The emperor was considered the patron of the whole empire.

  “I wanted to ask a favor, but one that I didn’t want the others to hear.” Stachys grew nervous, not really knowing how to say what he had come to say.

  “Go on.” Urbanus’s tone was amiable.

  “It’s too much to ask, really. It’s just that . . .”

  “Spit it out, Stachys. I have to go to court today, and you and the others have to be there to cheer for my lawyer.”

  “Yes, well, the thing is . . . and I know this is not my place, but I came to ask if I might be allowed to call you by your name. I mean, instead of calling you Dominus.”

  Urbanus hesitated at first. “Have we come so far? You do remember that you were once my slave?”

  “Yes, Dom—”

  “Tell me why.”

  Stachys took a deep breath and scratched his head. “You know that I’ve joined the school of the Way-followers?”

  “Yes, though you still haven’t told me what a Way-follower is.” Urbanus’s tone was shifting from warm to annoyed.

  “A Way-follower is no different from any other Roman in many ways. They are not from a particular country, and they don’t even all speak the same language or have all the same customs in common. They believe much of the religion of the Judeans, but the table is open to anyone who is willing to take up their lifestyle and be initiated by baptism. They are, however, especially devoted to one particular Judean. His name was Iesua. He said that he is the way, and the truth, and the life.”

  “Wait, is this that Chrestus who was the cause of all the trouble across the river that led to the emperor banishing all the Judeans?”

  “Well, they call him the Christos, but yes. But it wasn’t his fault, or the fault of the Way-followers. But you see, for the Way- followers, Iesua the Christos is Dominus, he is their Lord, and they are not allowed to have any other Lord; and if I am initiated and join their table, then I am not supposed to call anyone else Dominus.”

  Now Urbanus was a little angry. “What? But I am your patron! I am your lord! And after my father died, I gave you your freedom so you could live with your son’s mother—may the spirits bless her in Elysium. I took you from managing my olive groves to having your own olive oil business, and you owe me a lot of money.”

  “Yes, and I will always be grateful, and you will always be my patron. I would never betray you. Iesua does not ask us to abandon our patrons or dishonor them in any way. But my new wife, Maria, is very . . . insistent that I learn the rules of their cult and join their table.”

  Urbanus looked Stachys up and down. “You were always a good and loyal slave—and for the last fifteen years you’ve been a good and loyal client. I know you mean no dishonor. Hades! You were willing to completely humiliate yourself in front of all my other clients just to save me the embarrassment of having to publicly consider this question of how to address me. Tell me, Stachys, why is it that your honor has increased in my eyes simply because you are willing to be shamed in order to practice your new religion?” Before Stachys could think of an answer, Urbanus concluded, “All right. Fro
m now on, you may call me by my name, and in the mornings you will visit me first, before all my other clients.”

  Then Stachys found himself being pushed toward the door by Urbanus, whose arm was now around his shoulders. Urbanus went right on talking. “Now, we have to get moving because I am due in court. You and the others will meet me on the steps of the new court building, the Basilica Julia. We’re due there at the third hour, so whatever you have to do now, be sure you’re not late. I need all the support I can get. Oh, almost forgot.” Urbanus pulled a small leather bag from the fold in his toga and took out a silver denarius. “Here you go. So much easier than when we used to have to give out food baskets to all the clients.”

  Times and Seasons

  For many Romans the workday was only about six hours long. The exception would have been those businesses that stayed open during the “siesta” time, and although there seems to have been a universal assumption that everyone should have the time to go to the baths in the afternoon (including slaves), clearly the workers in the baths would have been one group of people who had a longer workday. Another group would have been shopkeepers and tavern workers, who hoped to profit from the leisure time of others. On the other hand, some sources indicate that even the shops closed up by about 1 p.m. so the shopkeepers could go to the baths. In any case, it is clear that most men in the upper classes tried to get their business done before lunch, leaving the afternoon for leisure. Most Romans, however, whether working-class men or women who maintained a home, would probably not have had the flexibility to end their workday at a scheduled time.

  It’s important to remember that the Romans did not have minute divisions of the hours. They marked their time by sundials and water clocks (the wealthy actually had pocket sundials). This means that keeping an appointment to the minute was not a possibility. A person might try to arrive at the beginning of the third hour, for example, but there was no way to say for sure whether it was the top of the hour, unless perhaps the meeting place was the water clock. For the most part, people who agreed to meet at a certain hour were probably used to waiting around a lot. Also, since the length of the day changed with the seasons, the length of each hour within the day would not have been consistent and could never have been more than approximate.