Today, we catch up with David (a Jewish man from Pittsburgh on a time-traveling adventure through the early days of the followers of Yeshua) and his angelic instructor, Ariel, back in the heavenly classroom. David is learning how the good news of Yeshua, the Jewish Messiah, is also for the nations - and how things are changing yet remain the same.
(If you want to read ahead, download the ebook version of Jerusalem Secret for FREE here. The first book in the series, Identity Theft is also available for free here.)
Chapter 9
It fascinated me that I easily slid into the scribe role in two different centuries. Still, it was a lot to take in.
Ariel sat beside me in the same chair Dad occupied earlier. “So, would you like to summarize what you know so far?”
I turned sideways to face him, leaning my side on the back of the chair. Instinctively, I stroked my long “beard.” Gone.
“Well, I kind of miss my beard,” I teased. “They are finally back in style. Although I’m all about our twenty-first century clothes. How did people walk around in that stuff all day?”
Ariel grinned back at me. “Okay, David, summarize for me. A little less fluff and a little more stuff.”
I knew what he wanted. He knew that I knew what he wanted. “Okay, it seems pretty simple. The Jewish apostles in Jerusalem decided that, according to the vision of Kefa—Simon Peter—Gentiles did not have to become Jews or be circumcised to receive salvation. Jacob gave them several prohibitions, something about not eating blood or food sacrificed to idols.”
“Right.”
I felt like I ought to be tapping notes into my cell phone or something, which I naturally do when covering a story for the paper, but my cell phone didn’t make it here. I reasoned that if God went through all the trouble of bringing me here to see all of this, He would ensure that I retained it later on earth. So, I relaxed and sipped my coffee, still hot after what seemed like a long absence.
Ariel continued. “Also not to eat the meat of strangled animals, because that would be eating blood, and then the prohibition against sexual immorality.”
“What a minute—surely God intended that the Gentiles embrace the Ten Commandments and to live moral lives? Could they lie? Or steal?” After an entire lifetime of trying to honor the Ten Commandments, I secretly hoped that they would still somehow be a part of the New Covenant.
“David, that is the exact question I hoped that you would ask. You see, the context of Acts 15 is not moral living, but how do the Gentiles worship Yeshua? The argument was not over stealing or lying, but over ceremonial identity markers—symbols of Hebrew worship. Circumcision for Israel was not a moral command, but an ‘identity marker’ command that branded the Jewish people as God’s chosen nation.” Personally, I was glad that circumcision was a normal event for most baby boys today. I certainly didn’t remember my circumcision, and I’m sure at the time I was grateful for whatever numbing meds the doctor provided. There were some perks to being born in our modern era. “So, there is nothing inherently good or noble about circumcising. And we don’t bear the weight of sin against God if we choose not to circumcise our sons.
“Right. But for Hebrews, it was the mark in the flesh of identification. However, moral issues such as lying and stealing are universally wrong. Think about it. The Ten Commandments are the backbone of virtually every nation. How many nations encourage stealing or murder? And virtually every society has a weekly day off—even if not on the seventh day. But that had nothing to do with the dispute in Acts 15—the Jerusalem Council. They sought to determine how the Gentiles should worship. In pagan worship, eating and drinking blood or eating meat sacrificed to an idol was central. Jacob was telling the former pagans that, while they did not need to become Jews—embrace all the Jewish identity markers, such as keeping kosher or circumcision, in order to be part of God’s household as Paul calls it in Ephesians 2:19—there were certain aspects of their former pagan form of worship that were inherently evil. And these would not be accepted in the New Testament congregation.”
“But he warns them against sexual immorality? That certainly was not a part of pagan liturgy,” I countered.
“In fact it was. Temple prostitution, lying with a prostitute as part of idol worship, was quite prevalent in pagan worship. In fact, in some cases rape was allowed in pagan worship. Jacob made it clear that such practices would not be welcomed as legitimate New Testament worship. While that might be obvious to you in the twenty-first century, these former pagans had never read the Bible. All they knew was what they knew. Jacob encouraged them in verse twenty-one to continue to go to the synagogue, as they would see that Jacob’s admonitions against certain forms of worship were upheld in Scripture.”
For the law of Moses has been preached in every city from the earliest times and is read in the synagogues on every Sabbath (Acts 15:21).
“As I have shared with you before, the synagogue was the only place to hear God’s Word. And it was read every Shabbat.
“Let’s continue. The nature of the body of believers is now vastly different. More and more Gentiles came into the kingdom of God. While they were encouraged to honor the Jewish roots of the faith, they were not compelled to live as Jews or Hebrews, more accurately. And sadly, this is where things began to change for the worse. Remember I asked you, ‘What happened?’ Well, now you are going to find out. While the history is really sad, the one the Master has chosen to share it with you is someone very special.
“In your last journey, you met Peter for the first time. You also met John the Baptist—who is really John the Prophet—Thomas, John the disciple, Jacob, and others. But there is one whom you did not meet. God chose him to be the greatest theologian ever. He wrote half of the New Testament and most of the doctrine that is laid out within it.”
“This rabbi persecuted the Messianic believers until he had his own dramatic encounter with the Messiah. Grab my arm; we are going to him.”
We launched from a sitting position, as if the desks weren’t even there. I really didn’t need to hang on to Ariel’s arm that hard. It was as though there was a magnet holding my hand around his wrist. We soared high through the white, then the galaxy of stars and planets, then a loud pop introduced us to an earthly scene below, but this time I did not see Jerusalem or any place close to Israel.
As our flight descended, closer and closer to land, it appeared to me that we were in ancient Rome. I was a little confused. Ariel had spent so much time convincing me that Rome hijacked the Messianic faith and that Paul was a rabbi, not a Catholic priest. Why Rome?
We landed on the left side of a road paved with smooth rectangular stones. Most of the vendors and pedestrians were on this side as well. Little wonder. A large public latrine took up most of the space on the right side. I’d heard about the public bathhouses and latrines in Rome. Part of me wanted to go inside and look around. The other part was glad to avoid the stench that likely accompanies such places.
Rome was known for its extensive water supply via aqueducts from the high mountains into the city. Before we left this place, I wanted to taste the spring water from one of the better aqueducts.
Men and women dressed in traditional Roman outfits walked by us—ignoring us, as if we belonged. I looked down. Yep, Roman sandals. Two metal clasps dug into my shoulders a little. They seemed to hold up an inner tunic, so I adjusted them until they stopped hurting. The tunic was soft—probably made of linen. At least that’s what the tour guides told Lisa and me when we visited Rome on our honeymoon.
Our tour guide told us that all the men wore togas when on official business, but he warned us that the Roman toga was pretty difficult to wrap. Lisa tried to dress me in the twenty-foot-long material, but even with the tour guide’s instructions I ended up looking ridiculous. Now, I paused to inspect the toga I wore, just so I could tell Lisa later on.
Ariel walked ahead and then stopped and looked back at me. “Coming?”
“Yeah. This is just so cool. Itchy, but cool.”
I jogged up to Ariel, paying more attention to our surroundings now that I had the clothes figured out.
An open stand of hot baked bread dominated the air. Large, crusty brown loaves were stacked neatly on a long table. Passersby were counting Roman coins as they neared the stand. It was clear who was going to make the lion’s share of the money today on this street.
Young children in off-white tunics played around the feet of their mothers, who were dressed in layers of colorful—well, large scarves? Material anyway. I was surprised to see so much purple and red.
Two stray dogs zipped through the legs of pedestrians, barking loudly as one chased the other around the bread table. The bread vendor grabbed a large broom and chased them off. One left, tail between his legs. The other barked harder and ran ahead, probably to get into more mischief.
Ariel kept walking and I kept up the pace beside him. A two-wheeled oxcart laden with sacks of grain crunched over the right side of the cobblestone street. The poor man tending the cart was dressed in a dirty, worn tunic and trousers, and he led the ox with a long stick, tapped his back end at intervals, and shouted at him to move.
Nearly every door to the houses hung wide open. Tables and blankets lined the roadway in front of those doors, each filled with wares of various shapes and sizes. There were clay colored pots, vegetables and fruit, a display of candles, and long folds of material. It was clear that the Roman women liked color.
A young boy with a small herd of sheep pushed his way through our little group. I couldn’t resist. I put my hand down and felt the wooly head of one of the larger sheep as he passed. Suddenly, the man with the oxcart appeared out of nowhere and chased the boy with his stick and yelled obscenities at him for his clumsy shepherding. I could understand everything that the people were saying, and marveled at the opportunity to experience ancient Roman culture. I smiled to myself. Our tour guide would be so envious.
We passed two women who were walking slowly, talking together as they shouldered large clay jars.
We passed a small stand of honeycomb, which added to the pleasant aroma of bread. My stomach rumbled.
Just then, two men brushed by us, carrying an upside-down boar on a pole between them. I looked away. Who walks around with a dead boar on a pole? And where are all the Roman statues and busts of Caesar Augustus and Julius Caesar?
For some reason, Ariel was not inclined to track my thoughts in Rome. Instead, we walked together and he gave me time to take in all the sights, sounds, and smells.
“You might be wondering why we are in Rome,” he smiled.
“Come on, you know I’m wondering why we are in Rome—although I’m not complaining. I guess you know Lisa and I took our honeymoon in Rome?”
Ariel nodded. “I do. Just one more proof that Jehovah God has ordained your days and your calendar to prepare you for all He wants to show you now.”
A man of small stature walked up to us. He was nearly bald on top with a strong Jewish nose and long white beard, clearly up there in years. “Shalom, David, as you may have guessed, I am Shaul, or Paul as I was known here in Rome. You are in Rome because this is where the great divide begins.”
“It is an honor to meet you.” I felt really small in his presence, despite his short stature. I’d really not had time yet to read everything he’d written, but I knew that he penned more than half of the New Testament.
“No David, it is I who am honored. I fought the good fight, I have finished my race, but you are at the starting line of yours.”
I was nearly thirty years old. I hardly felt like I was just beginning, but who could argue with Rabbi Paul, apostle of Yeshua?
“Paul is here to shed some insight on his book to the believers in Rome. There is much in there that can only be correctly understood in light of the history leading up to its writing—and sadly, only a small percentage of believers know this history. Paul?”
“David, when reading the Scriptures, it is important to take in the historical context. The Bible was not written in a vacuum, but often in response to events on the ground. In the case of the book of Romans, which I wrote in the late fifties of the first century, many factors influenced me as I wrote it.
“Let’s walk this way, gentlemen?” suggested Ariel. “We have some other friends to meet.”
I wondered who they could be—my knowledge was still quite limited in regard to the New Covenant. If I couldn’t feel my legs moving under me, I’d have thought I was in a dream. People passed and seemed none the wiser that I was from the future, Ariel was an angel, and Paul—Rabbi Shaul—would become the most significant figure in New Covenant history, save the Messiah Himself.
My Roman sandal kicked against something that looked a bit like a penny lying on the ground. I bent down and picked it up. “Caesar Claudius,” I read easily the name encircling his likeness on the bronze coin.
Across the street from us I saw a triad of statues. I immediately recognized the statue on the right as Minerva, the Roman goddess of wisdom, medicine, poetry, and the arts. Stone likenesses of Jupiter and Juno were to her right, supposedly her parents. The statues looked old, even in 45 CE.
Lisa and I had studied this in some measure before taking our honeymoon tour of Rome, but these original statues were so different from the replicas shown by our tour guide.
I nodded toward the statue. “The goddess Minerva, right?”
Ariel nodded. “Rome was full of mythological gods and goddesses long before the Messiah was born.”
“As you can see, Rome was filled with idols—gods and goddesses that the Romans believed could provide rain for harvest, fertility to wedded couples, and victory in war. This was not an easy city to evangelize, to say the least. Who wanted to trade in their millions of gods for One?”
“Will we see the great Colosseum?” How cool would that be? I had visited Rome and seen the impressive ruins, but to see it when it was new…
“Well, only if we stay here a few decades,” joked the angel. “Construction began in 70 CE, and it was finished in the 80s. But honestly, that place has no great distinction in heaven. Tens of thousands of those who loved the Messiah were killed in that despicable edifice of death.”
I guess I should get rid of all the tourist pictures of me and Lisa standing in front of it, I thought.
“Actually, you will see the Colosseum later as it has some valued history—although quite infamous. Paul? Please continue,” requested Ariel.”
“Some young men and their families were sent to Rome in the year 44 CE. These men were Jewish disciples who had been leaders in different congregations that we planted in Asia. They went to Rome with a deep burden for the capital city, as emissaries of Yeshua, and planted many house fellowships within the city. When they arrived they encountered a small group of Jews who had come to faith during that first Shavuot, when the Holy Spirit fell upon Jerusalem. These men were on pilgrimage when my dear brother Simon Peter preached his very first message. However, with little teaching, they had not grown much. Once these trained disciples and their families arrived, they began to bear fruit. By the year 49 CE there were around five or six congregations around Rome.1”
“However, in that same year, 49 CE, 2 not long after our historic gathering in Jerusalem regarding the Gentiles and circumcision, Claudius, the Roman the emperor, decided to expel all the Jews from Rome.3
I held up my bronze coin. “While he made sure his face remained engraved on the Roman currency.”
Paul smiled. “Right. Claudius was not exactly a friend of Jews or Christians, and little wonder. The Jewish believers had come into sharp dispute with the Jews who did not believe that Yeshua was the Messiah. At that time Messianic Jews were still welcomed into the traditional synagogue. Some were even leaders in different synagogues. Many non-Jewish Romans also would attend the synagogue. They were intrigued by the Jewish religion. But the success of the Jewish believers in preaching the Gospel of Yeshua to the Romans brought them into deep conflict with other Jewish leaders, who were not believers—and jealous of their success amongst the Gentiles.”
“I had no idea,” I put in. “I’ve certainly never felt any jealousy over Jewish believers, only disdain for them. Of course, that was before last week. And the idea of Jewish synagogues actively seeking Gentile converts is not consistent with today’s Judaism, which is quite insular.”
“As you will see,” said Ariel, “a lot things changed in Judaism after the success of the message of Yeshua.”
[1] No one knows exactly how the congregation in Rome was birthed. Romans Catholics teach that Peter, whom they believe was the Bishop of Rome (the first Pope), planted it. We cover this extensively in the first book—why Peter could not have been the Bishop of Rome. The most logical conclusion is that Paul sent disciples to Rome. If not, Paul would not have felt an apostolic obligation to write to them. It is clear that Paul writes as someone with authority regarding doctrine and deep love for them. Another valid theory is that Roman Messianic Jews who had received Yeshua during the first Shavuot outpouring returned to Rome to birth the Roman Messianic Community. However, if this were true then Jacob (James), not Paul, would have felt the apostolic responsibility for them.
[2] There are different views regarding the exact date, but we know that the early church historian Orosius gives the 49 CE date.
[3] David Pawson’s A Commentary on Romans helped me greatly here and I highly recommend it.
The Messianic Jews Priscilla and Aquila came to Corinth from Rome before Paul ever visited Rome. From his letter to the Romans, it seems as if Paul did not regard himself as an overseer of the Roman church. Years before that, on the day of Pentecost, there were Jews from Rome listening to Peter. Some probably got converted and kept in touch with each other in Rome. When two or three of them gathered, it constituted the beginnings of a church. That would be the earliest date such a church could be established.