Man of God

by Diaz, Debra

  Shaken by the depth of her emotion, Paulus just stared at her for a moment. She curled up in the chair and refused to look at him, her bare body visible through the transparent gown. He wanted to tell her to go and put on some clothes…but she might not come back. Abruptly, his anger died and his heart bled for her.

  “Daphne,” he said, with great gentleness. “There is something you don’t understand. What sins do you think were laid upon him, on the cross? A small lie? The disobedience of a child? A profane word, an unkind deed? Those things, yes, but it was also thievery, envy, adultery and murder. And incest—and that was not your fault.”

  “Wasn’t it?” she said bitterly.

  “In God’s eyes even what seems like a small sin is just as wrong as a great one. Because, Daphne, they all have a single root—rebellion. They come from a rebellious and wicked heart, something we all have in common.”

  “Not like me.”

  “You are trying to limit God’s love, and that is impossible.”

  “He could never love me. And why should he—if he saw what I just tried to do to you!”

  “Jesus himself said that God sent him because he so loved the world…and that includes you. Are you so great a sinner that you are not even part of the world?”

  “Sometimes I feel like that! How would you know? I may be paid for what I do, but there are some men that I—I enjoy being with! And—I’ve always known, somehow, that what I do is wrong, even before I heard about Jesus.”

  “Daphne, I must tell you something. You know me as Antonius, but that is only a family name. I’ve had to hide my real name. I have done things that fill me with regret, now that I know the truth. But—the truth—has set me free from those things.”

  “Free,” she whispered, as though he’d spoken some magical word. “I want to be free.”

  Paulus glanced around the room. There was a bright yellow coverlet lying on one of the couches; he went and took it in his hands, then walked over and handed it to Daphne. She looked up, her eyes red, and tucked it around her.

  “How badly?” he asked, standing very still before her. “Do you want to be free from yourself as well, and call him Lord of your life?”

  Her brow furrowed and she didn’t answer. Impulsively, Paulus knelt beside her.

  “Daphne, he died for you. There is no greater love.”

  “I want to be free,” she said again. “I do believe the things I’ve heard you say. It broke my heart when you talked about Jesus dying for us, to take our place. But I’m afraid. I’m afraid he will reject me.”

  “He has said that whoever comes to him, he will not cast out. He will accept you, just as you are.”

  “Just as I am,” she repeated, child-like. She began to cry again, with great wrenching sobs. She wept for a long time and he waited, knowing what she was going through—because he had been through it himself. She began to hiccup, and finally raised her eyes to his.

  “I—I want to pray.”

  Paulus hid his surprise, and a sudden rush of relief and elation.

  Daphne crawled out of the chair, holding the coverlet close against her, and knelt beside him. She paused for so long that he became concerned that she was resisting again. But then she began, in so small and humble a voice that he felt the sting of tears in his own eyes.

  “Dear God in heaven, have mercy on me, one who has sinned against you, and I ask to be covered by the blood of your son, Jesus—so that is what you see when you look upon me. I know that nothing I could ever do can save me. I thank you, Jesus, for your perfect life. I ask you to forgive me, and to cleanse my heart, and to come and live in it, and make me a new person.”

  She stopped, and after a long moment went on brokenly, “Help me in my faith, because I am weak. I—I can’t—”

  Paulus waited, but when she couldn’t seem to go on, he said, “Help Daphne to forgive herself, and to believe in your forgiveness. Help her to know that she is truly your child, loved and accepted because of Jesus Christ. Amen.”

  Slowly, Daphne raised her head, and Paulus saw in her eyes what he had felt at his own, very difficult, conversion. Wonder, and joy, and peace. And wholeness.

  “I think he has forgiven me,” she whispered.

  “You don’t have to think it, Daphne—you can know it.”

  “I feel clean, for the first time in my whole life!”

  Paulus stood, and drew her to her feet. “You are clean, from the inside out.”

  Self-consciously she pushed back her tumbled hair and used a corner of the coverlet to dab at her face. “What happens now, Antonius?” she asked, and gave him a small smile. “Or whatever your real name is.”

  “I can’t tell you my name. But to answer your question…baptism, first of all. Daphne, you must know that God will never ask anything of you that you cannot do, through him. He wants to work in your life to bring you closer to him. This is something you can’t do in your own strength, but from the moment you prayed to receive him, he sent his holy Spirit to live within you. And now you have an obligation to learn more about Jesus, to follow his leadership, to share your life with other believers.” He kept looking earnestly into her eyes and added, “We’ll study and pray together, you and Alysia and I.”

  Her face reddened. “I cannot face Alysia. Not yet. I want to go home. There are some things I—need to get rid of. Some things I need to change. I’ll ask one of the servants to take me. But I will come to the meetings at your house, when you return. I promise.”

  Daphne moved swiftly away from him, but then stopped and turned back. “I am sorry, Antonius. I let myself be carried away by—I mean—”

  “Don’t say any more.”

  “But I had another reason for what I did. I wanted to see what you would do. I wanted to see if you really lived by the things you say.” She met his eyes, adding quietly, “And now I know.”

  * * *

  Daphne chose the pond rather than the pool for her baptism (in spite of possible reptilian occupants), dressed in a dark robe provided by one of the slaves. It seemed more natural, she said. Paulus almost asked one of the other believers to do the baptizing; he didn’t feel quite right about it somehow…after what had happened. But Daphne clearly expected him to, and she might feel hurt and rejected if he didn’t…his own peculiar feeling wasn’t worth that price.

  The slaves came out to watch; some of them even sang a hymn, before Paulus immersed her in the water. Daphne was smiling and joyful until she saw Alysia and Rachel coming toward them; she threw Paulus a sheepish look as they waded out of the water, and Alysia ran forward to embrace her.

  “Daphne, I’m so happy for you!”

  “Thank you, Alysia—I am very happy, too. But I’ve already told Antonius that I must leave at once—there are things at home I must see to. In fact, I plan on moving to another part of town very soon. Thank you for having me here, and everything you and Antonius and Rachel have done for me.” Daphne smiled at Rachel. “Where is your little puppy?”

  Rachel’s own smile faded. “They weren’t there this time—the dog owners, I mean.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. You can certainly come and visit me, and play with Tigris whenever you like.”

  “Thank you, Daphne!”

  Some of the servants were setting out food on the courtyard, and they all sat down for a quick meal before Daphne left. Alysia watched Daphne and thought, Yes, it’s real, but there was something else about the young woman…she seemed embarrassed and avoided meeting Alysia’s eyes. Alysia looked at Paulus, who met her gaze with a searching one of his own, as though he knew what she was thinking. Then, in a flurry of bags and boxes, and carrying her puppy, Daphne climbed into the carriage and disappeared down the lane. It seemed very quiet when she had gone.

  Later, while Rachel visited the lame horse in the stable, Paulus and Alysia walked across the great lawn and sat down on the bank of the pond to watch the sun go down. The silence between them was not as comfortable as usual.

  Paulus said finally, �
�Alysia, I have something to tell you.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “I shouldn’t have asked Daphne to come here. Even though it turned out…oh, I don’t know. It could have turned out wrong. If she hadn’t had a change of heart, she could have said anything she liked about me.”

  “Do you mean what I think you mean?”

  Paulus didn’t answer, so she said bluntly, “She tried to seduce you?”

  After another pause, he said, “Yes.”

  Although she had suspected as much, she felt an unexpected stab of jealousy. “What did you say to her?”

  “What do you think I said, or did, Alysia…I all but crawled under the couch!”

  “I wish you hadn’t told me. Now I’m angry with Daphne!”

  “I had to tell you—we can’t have secrets between us. Anyway, she was testing me—nothing happened, and the whole thing ended well, but as I said—it might not have, if she’d grown angry. She could have said I tried to rape her—think of Potiphar’s wife and Joseph. Or she could have told you I tried to seduce her. It wasn’t wise to bring her here, and it wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry.”

  “I admit I didn’t trust her. I tried to make sure you were never alone with her, but that’s not always possible, is it? This morning she decided quite suddenly not to go with us, but I thought you would be away all day.”

  “I would have, if the horse hadn’t gone lame.”

  “How do you suppose she managed that?” Alysia said, only half-joking.

  “She told me some things…she’s had a hard way of it, Alysia. Don’t judge her too harshly.”

  “I’m not judging her…you of all people know I would never do that! But how do you know she was telling the truth, and not just playing on your sympathy?”

  “I just know. You should have seen her.”

  “It’s probably a good thing I didn’t!”

  Paulus said, with an edge to his voice, “Let’s not speak of it again. The important thing is that she is saved.”

  Alysia relented, and slid both arms around him. “Of course it is. I’m sorry, Paulus. I’m sure she must feel wretched about it now. But you mustn’t. We won’t let this come between us.”

  She reached up and gently turned his face toward her own, looking into his eyes. They were as clear and honest, and loving, as they had ever been. He put his arm close around her, and they watched the stars come out.

  CHAPTER XIII

  “Where is he, Flavius?” asked Herod Agrippa, looking haughtily at the emperor’s chief bodyguard. His toga rustled as he stalked into the room with the confidence of a man on the verge of achieving his ambitions…whatever those might be. This king of Galilee had…over the years… fallen in and out of favor with Tiberius, fled for his life several times, and now had taken over the rule of his uncle Antipas’ former domain and was comfortably ensconced in Caligula’s palace. He had a full face and wide jaw, curly black hair, a long, hooked nose, and was considered quite charming by the women of Rome.

  Behind Agrippa crept Claudius, who glanced timorously around the imperial bedchamber. The emperor was nowhere to be seen. Outside, a thunderstorm raged; great outbursts of thunder pealed across the flattened hilltop, accompanied by piercing streaks of lightning. The room was brightly lit with lamps, and with torches set in brackets against each wall.

  Flavius, standing at attention in the corner, kept his face expressionless and nodded toward the bed. Claudius limped forward and tossed the rumpled covers, then looked inquiringly back at Flavius. At that moment a muffled voice came from underneath.

  “Go away! Jupiter is angry and I daren’t come out until he’s gone!”

  “Nephew,” said Claudius, with rare sternness, “are you still—hiding from storms? Come out from under there at—once!”

  A boom of thunder crashed into the room and the emperor squealed. “Oh, Brother, wreak not your vengeance upon me…I am innocent! The moon beguiled me…seek Venus instead! It was her fault…” He fell to whimpering as thunder vibrated the walls.

  “Your Majesty,” said Agrippa, “won’t you explain why you have summoned us? Claudius has come all the way from his house in the rain, and I have business waiting as well.”

  “I won’t come out until he’s gone! I wanted to talk to you about this Nazarene cult, and for all I know that’s what Jupiter is angry about, instead of that other—thing!”

  “What do you me—mean?” asked Claudius.

  “Never mind! I’ve sent for a number of princes and officials—we will have a great assembly. I am going to warn them not to tolerate this foolishness. I might even have some of these Nazarenes brought before me in their presence.”

  “An excellent idea,” said Agrippa. “My uncle, Antipas, was greatly affected by the dead Nazarene. He’s never been the same—prowls like a panther all night long, so my sister says. I know there are many of the man’s followers in Jerusalem, but I was not aware of any great number in Rome. However, it is best to stop them before they become a nuisance.”

  Flavius watched as Agrippa sat down on the edge of the bed and Claudius limped toward a chair. Though alarmed by what he was hearing, he wasn’t surprised by it…he’d even been expecting it, sooner or later. It was inevitable, once Caligula learned of the “Nazarenes”, and their loyalty to a God other than himself.

  “My sources tell me they meet in each other’s homes,” answered the voice under the bed. “There are even some of them in the Jewish section, and they are allowed to speak in the synagogues. That is very curious, since it was the Jews who crucified this so-called Messiah in the first place!”

  “The Jews and the Ro—Romans,” said Claudius.

  The storm began to recede, and Caligula’s head appeared as he lay on his back looking up at the king. “You, Herod Agrippa, ought to consider hying yourself back to Jerusalem. How can you keep those fanatics quiet all the way from Rome?”

  “The Sanhedrin is doing all it can to stop them, your Majesty. Prison, beatings, even death to some.”

  “Not the same as Roman justice! Your grandfather would have made short work of them.”

  Agrippa’s handsome brow wrinkled. “If your majesty believes I should return to Palestine I will do so, but I don’t think it necessary.”

  “Suit yourself! Just make sure they are dealt with. I will see that they set my statue dressed as Jupiter in their Temple. I have already ordered it—what is taking them so long?”

  Agrippa and Claudius exchanged glances. They, along with the governor of Syria, had been delaying the command—knowing how the Jews would react and the bloodbath that would follow.

  “I have not been in correspondence with the governor,” Agrippa lied smoothly. “However, has your Majesty considered that not only would the Jews be outraged by such an action, but these Nazarenes as well?”

  “Let them be outraged! A good excuse to rid ourselves of all of them!”

  “I believe,” Claudius said, lying as well, “that the ship carrying your statue was lost in a storm, and that another one is being prepared.”

  “My statue—in the sea,” mourned Caligula. “Now Neptune will be angry with me!”

  “He was already angry,” Claudius couldn’t resist saying. “About the seash—shells.”

  “Enough about that—it was a joke! Surely Neptune has a sense of humor. But—let us return to planning my assembly. I want you and Agrippa to see to it that they are given the best accommodations. Bow and scrape to them if you must—such things are beneath the emperor. I want them to be thoroughly impressed. I am about to increase their tribute, so perhaps they won’t complain as much when they see our grandeur. Flavius, tell the prefect I want the Praetorians in excellent form! Uncle, you will have charge of those from the western provinces, and Agrippa those from the east.”

  “When are they to arrive, your Majesty?” Agrippa asked.

  “They should begin arriving within a week. The meetings will commence in two weeks or so.”

  “Not much
time to pre-prepare,” Claudius observed.

  “How much time do you need! I told you about it a long time ago, Uncle. That was the time start pre-preparing!”

  “I presume they have all answered your invitation?”

  “I do not invite, Herod Agrippa. I command. And yes, they have all answered that they are coming—why would they not? I will have my secretary give you a list of names. Now, you weary me. I shall sleep until Jupiter withdraws his wrath…Flavius, see them out.”

  The divine head disappeared. Flavius waited, spear in hand, as the two men rose and left the room, both looking harried and indignant. He sighed inwardly, resigning himself to several more hours of boredom…but at least he could think without interruption about how he was going to inform Paulus, and other believers, about this new threat. His wife, Susanna, had seen Simon in the forum the other day, and learned that Paulus was visiting Horatius’ villa outside of Rome. One day a week Flavius did not attend the emperor; perhaps on that day he could ride out to the villa.

  Horatius’ slaves must not be aware of Paulus’ identity, or Alysia’s. They would probably have no opportunity to hear from someone, somewhere, that Paulus Valerius and his wife were being sought by Caligula, and even if they did hear such a thing, they wouldn’t know what he looked like. It was still risky, though, and Horatius would face an unpleasant fate should the emperor find out he had harbored Paulus on his property.

  Flavius would go on the pretense that he wished to speak to Horatius’ guest about a business matter. He would not be in uniform; the slaves would think nothing of it. Or maybe he should ask Simon to go. Flavius’s scars always drew unwanted attention and made him memorable. If at any point in the future Caligula learned that Flavius had spoken to Paulus, his fate, too, would be unpleasant—to say the least. And then there would be no one in his position who could warn the community of believers of Caligula’s intentions.

  Was that cowardly? Gladiators could be called many things…but “coward” was not one of them. He had a dread, however, of slow torture, and he knew what the emperor was capable of. He would have to think about that.