The Tongues of Men or Angels

Thirty-four Years after the Crucifixion

‘I won’t lie to you, Useful, there was a setback at Athens.’ Paul adjusts himself on the stuffed rugs that are currently functioning as a couch.

Manius, the Praetorian to whom Paul’s wrist is chained, trying to doze, looks irritated by the movement. But then Manius has seemed to find annoyance in everything these past weeks. It appears that his good graces were only ever based on his stomach and they have vanished with the last of the pomegranates and dove preserves. Though Paul’s disciples have managed to salve adequate alms to secure the group a large tent of their own in the refugee camp, the conditions are far below those that have become customary during their years in Rome. The days of shellfish, snails and dormice are gone; occasional eggs are now a delicacy. But Paul, who in his time has suffered greatly worse, is undaunted by the deterioration. Paul has been stoned, flogged and beaten with rods; a little discomfort is as nothing to him.

Paul continues: ‘Athens was the first city I had visited where men didn’t flock to my words. Because they were obsessed with “wisdom” in that place and my message about Jesus appears as nonsense to those who think themselves wise. But it is written: I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the intelligence of the intelligent I will reject.

‘So where’s the wise person? Where’s the scholar? Where’s the philosopher of this age? I’ll tell you. God has turned their wisdom into foolishness. In His true wisdom, God saw that their supposed wisdom impeded them from knowing Him. And so God chose to save those who believe the “nonsense” of my preaching. Because the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God’s sight.

‘Sages think they can use logic, experiment, observation and reason to explain away the spiritual. But God doesn’t follow those rules. God has chosen the foolish things to confound the wise. Jews ask for signs, and Athenians look for wisdom, but I preach of a crucified Saviour, an impediment to Jews and nonsense to Athenians, but God’s nonsense is wiser than human wisdom. God chose what is foolish to make the wise feel ashamed.

‘So my message is wisdom, but not the wisdom of this world, which is passing away. Instead, I speak about God’s wisdom: a hidden secret, which God destined before the world began. And I don’t speak about these things with human wisdom, but with words taught by the Spirit. I explain spiritual things to spiritual people. A person who isn’t spiritual can’t accept the things of God’s Spirit, for they are nonsense to him. But to us, nonsense is wisdom. Do you see?’

Useful nods, though uncertainly. He couldn’t pretend to understand all of it, if the truth be told. But the thing is, Paul says that you don’t need to: to be saved you only have to declare with your mouth and believe with your heart that Jesus is the Lord, to eat and drink of His body and blood, and be baptized. There is a beautiful sufficiency in that.

‘So when I left Athens and came to the city of Corinth, Useful, I was resolved to know nothing. My message and my preaching were not accompanied by clever words, but by a display of the Spirit’s power. And there in that great place I found a multitude of followers eager to embrace the self-same things that those wise Athenians thought so ridiculous. And a great and numerous community was founded there at Corinth.’

‘And then from Corinth you came to Rome?’ Useful asks.

‘Eventually, though not by a straight road. But I don’t think we even have time for you to finish writing this story, Useful. I fear that, because of my love for you, I must send you away, while I still can.’

‘What do you mean, Master?’

‘I have been persecuted enough times by now, Useful, to recognize its stirrings.’ Paul half cups his hand, almost as though he tries to mask his words from Manius, though that is hardly possible with the legionary lying right beside him. ‘Since the fire, things have grown grim for the people of Rome. They need someone to blame. And from the tattle I hear on the wind, I suspect that the scapegoat has been chosen.’

‘Then I must stay here to support you through whatever hardships may be coming,’ Useful says.

Paul smiles at him. ‘No, my fellow soldier. The greatest kindness you can do me now is to be safe. I will write a letter to commend you back to Philemon, your former owner, and bid him to forgive you. He won’t refuse my wishes. I am an old man and a prisoner for Jesus, and you have become like my son while I have been in chains for the message. You are my very heart and I would not have you endangered. I will implore Philemon to take you back — no longer as a slave, but better than a slave, as a dear brother. And if Philemon believes that you have done him any wrong or owe him anything, then he must charge it to my account. I will write so with my own hand. Though he can hardly ask me to pay anything, since he owes me his very soul.’

A single droplet descends Useful’s giant boy’s head and he clutches Paul, tight as to a mast in a storm. Manius glances scornfully at the emotional display, then shuts his one eye again, in so doing renewing the intimation of violence in that abyss of scar, which runs across the void of his other eye-socket.

‘Don’t cry for me, Useful,’ Paul says. ‘I don’t fear death and through my bravery the Messiah will be exalted always, whether I live or die. If I continue living, fruitful labour will be the result, but to die is also to gain. Life or death, I don’t even know which I would prefer of the two: for my followers’ sake it is better that I remain alive, but I have the desire to leave this world and be with the Messiah. Once I was scared that I would die before my work was done. But now I grow impatient of the Christ’s return. I want to participate in His sufferings, become like him in His death and so attain resurrection.’