“But past your mentoring, I am not an educated man.”
“And you are still young.”
“So you remind me daily.”
“I’m sorry, Polycarp, but I have admitted that I learn from you as well. And your energy and enthusiasm inspire me, as they will another church someday.”
“If that is true, rabbi—and I confess it still does not reach the core of my soul—forgive me and indulge me further to plead with you to imagine the healing powers of the Varius Baths! It is very inexpensive. And interesting. Full of unique chambers that are entered in order. I started in the cold room, where I disrobed to my inner tunic and was issued wood sandals.”
“Sandals for a bath?”
“Yes! The Romans have an ingenious heating plan, and by the time you have worked up a sweat in the warm room and move to the hot room, the floors are steaming from wood-burning furnaces below. And they have even devised a way to pipe this heat into the walls! After you have bathed, you return to the cold room where you plunge into cool water. It’s so invigorating!”
John made a face. “Is it not on the same street as the public latrines I find so revolting?”
“Yes, and I know you find them distasteful because both men and women use them and there is no privacy, but we need not even go near those. We’ll go only to the baths, and from there straight to the theater.”
“Perhaps next week, after the Lord’s Day.”
S ATURDAY EVENING John was enjoying a leisurely meal in the courtyard with several dozen of the saints when he realized Polycarp had left his place. Before John could ask about the young man, others began interesting discussions with him. A woman wanted to know whether John thought Sunday would ever be recognized as a religious holiday, the way the Romans allowed the Jews to observe Shabbat.
“I’m afraid it’s unlikely,” John said. “We must enjoy our day of rest on Saturday as we always have and celebrate Resurrection Day while we work.”
“It’s difficult to have to wait until the end of the workday for all of us to assemble on Sunday,” she said.
John nodded as he munched grapes. “And yet that is the nature of what the Romans consider an insurrectionist sect. We dare not even make too widely known our evening Lord’s Day worship. That is also why Paul’s letters and the correspondence between churches must be kept so private.”
An older man asked John to tell a story of Jesus. “Something He said in your hearing.”
John laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Nothing would give me greater joy,” he said. “But this is something I have planned for the next time I address the saints here.”
Yet another man asked John if he was aware Cerinthus was in Ephesus, and the old man shuddered. “The heretic?” he said. “What is his business here?”
“I don’t know,” the man said, “but he has been busy. Twice I have heard him speaking to large crowds on the street. He sounds highly educated, and frankly he puzzles me.”
“You should pay him no mind,” John said. “You have been here long enough to recall Paul’s admonition to your bishop Timothy to beware of false doctrines within the church. Cerinthus propagates heresy from without. Cross to the other side when you see him. Don’t listen to a word of his blasphemy.”
“Begging your pardon, teacher, but that is what troubles me. We should not be afraid of ideas, should we, if we know the truth? What he is saying has not struck me as blasphemous.”
John sat back and rubbed his eyes. Where was Polycarp? He could help here. He could explain Gnosticism, which amounted to nothing less than the worship of knowledge and the danger of counting on “knowing” for one’s salvation.
“It is more complicated than I can get into at this moment,” John said, “but I pledge to speak on this sometime soon as well. In the meantime, you would do well to close your ears to such an enemy of the truth as Cerinthus. Fortunately for him, I have
“And you are still young.”
“So you remind me daily.”
“I’m sorry, Polycarp, but I have admitted that I learn from you as well. And your energy and enthusiasm inspire me, as they will another church someday.”
“If that is true, rabbi—and I confess it still does not reach the core of my soul—forgive me and indulge me further to plead with you to imagine the healing powers of the Varius Baths! It is very inexpensive. And interesting. Full of unique chambers that are entered in order. I started in the cold room, where I disrobed to my inner tunic and was issued wood sandals.”
“Sandals for a bath?”
“Yes! The Romans have an ingenious heating plan, and by the time you have worked up a sweat in the warm room and move to the hot room, the floors are steaming from wood-burning furnaces below. And they have even devised a way to pipe this heat into the walls! After you have bathed, you return to the cold room where you plunge into cool water. It’s so invigorating!”
John made a face. “Is it not on the same street as the public latrines I find so revolting?”
“Yes, and I know you find them distasteful because both men and women use them and there is no privacy, but we need not even go near those. We’ll go only to the baths, and from there straight to the theater.”
“Perhaps next week, after the Lord’s Day.”
S ATURDAY EVENING John was enjoying a leisurely meal in the courtyard with several dozen of the saints when he realized Polycarp had left his place. Before John could ask about the young man, others began interesting discussions with him. A woman wanted to know whether John thought Sunday would ever be recognized as a religious holiday, the way the Romans allowed the Jews to observe Shabbat.
“I’m afraid it’s unlikely,” John said. “We must enjoy our day of rest on Saturday as we always have and celebrate Resurrection Day while we work.”
“It’s difficult to have to wait until the end of the workday for all of us to assemble on Sunday,” she said.
John nodded as he munched grapes. “And yet that is the nature of what the Romans consider an insurrectionist sect. We dare not even make too widely known our evening Lord’s Day worship. That is also why Paul’s letters and the correspondence between churches must be kept so private.”
An older man asked John to tell a story of Jesus. “Something He said in your hearing.”
John laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Nothing would give me greater joy,” he said. “But this is something I have planned for the next time I address the saints here.”
Yet another man asked John if he was aware Cerinthus was in Ephesus, and the old man shuddered. “The heretic?” he said. “What is his business here?”
“I don’t know,” the man said, “but he has been busy. Twice I have heard him speaking to large crowds on the street. He sounds highly educated, and frankly he puzzles me.”
“You should pay him no mind,” John said. “You have been here long enough to recall Paul’s admonition to your bishop Timothy to beware of false doctrines within the church. Cerinthus propagates heresy from without. Cross to the other side when you see him. Don’t listen to a word of his blasphemy.”
“Begging your pardon, teacher, but that is what troubles me. We should not be afraid of ideas, should we, if we know the truth? What he is saying has not struck me as blasphemous.”
John sat back and rubbed his eyes. Where was Polycarp? He could help here. He could explain Gnosticism, which amounted to nothing less than the worship of knowledge and the danger of counting on “knowing” for one’s salvation.
“It is more complicated than I can get into at this moment,” John said, “but I pledge to speak on this sometime soon as well. In the meantime, you would do well to close your ears to such an enemy of the truth as Cerinthus. Fortunately for him, I have
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