Hold the Faith

Chapter Two-1

Chapter TwoThe marketplace in Ephesus

Approaching his father’s booth in the almost deserted market, Benjamin noticed him attempting to drag one of the large oil jars into the booth. Tall and able-bodied as Samuel was, he struggled with the heavy clay jar, dragging it across the hard packed ground. Limestone chips loosened in its laborious progress bounced up as the jar caught their edges.

Benjamin’s natural reaction was to run to his father’s aid, but seeing Samuel’s concentration was fully on his task, he did not wish to startle him by suddenly appearing behind him. When he was still some distance away he called, “Abba, wait, let me help you.”

His face slick with perspiration Samuel turned and responded, “I am glad to see you son, I would appreciate your help.”

The two of them wrestled the heavy jar under cover, then Benjamin looked around, “Where is Alexander?”

“One of his mother’s neighbours sent her son to fetch him. Agnes has taken ill, and his father is still at sea.”

“Did the boy say what was wrong?”

“No, just that he was needed at home because his mother is ill.”

“She hasn’t been ill before has she?”

“Benjamin, Benjamin, stop the questions and help me close up,” Samuel said, irritated. Running his hand through his thick silver-grey hair, he looked around to see what remained to be done.

“Sorry Abba.” Since he rarely helped at the market booth, Benjamin had to ask what to do.

Directing his son, the pair soon finished the routine task of closing the booth and securing it for the night.

“Abba, I am sorry I am not much help,” Benjamin apologised, now feeling thoroughly despondent. First his problem at the farm gate, then the situation with Joseph and his friends at the wedding; worst, the false accusations... and now feeling so inadequate in helping his father close up. “I am sorry Abba,” he apologised again, “I shouldn’t have annoyed you with questions when you were busy.”

“Son, it is fine now that everything is secure and I shouldn’t have been cross with you,” Samuel said remorsefully.”

Father and son smiled at each other, and then Samuel patted Benjamin on the shoulder and said, “Let’s finish up and be off home. We are running late as it is.”

The sound of sandals slapping on the stones alerted them to the fact someone was approaching.

“That has to be you Gaius. You are the only one I know who likes to wear sandals that slap as you walk,” Samuel chuckled. Turning, he greeted the market custodian who was making his usual end of the day round of the booths, ensuring all was as it should be.

Acknowledging the greeting, Gaius ran a large hand over his bald head, pulled at his gold earring and remarked, “You are late tonight oil-seller.”

“Yes, I am. I received a large shipment of oil that I needed to enter into the records before being stored away. My assistant had to leave so it took me longer. But my son and I are going now so you can rest easy on my account.”

Gaius nodded and smiled. He liked Samuel who was always polite and did not complain as some of the other stallholders did. Gesturing with his head Gaius muttered, “Been quite a few either closed, or finishing early this week. Some celebration I suppose. Hard to keep track of all these festivals and keep the market running smoothly,” he said with his usual grumble.

Samuel made sympathising noises.

“Well, have a good evening then,” Gaius said and left to continue his round.

“You also,” Samuel replied, and completing a final check to see that his booth was safe, he tapped Benjamin’s arm, “Come on, time to go.”

The pair fell into step and set off, calling “goodnight” to the few stallholders still closing up.

Absorbed in his own thoughts, Samuel headed determinedly through the large market precinct, heading for the wide road leading toward the home they shared with John, the grandfather of his wife Naomi.

“You are worried about Aima’s reaction to the news about Alexander’s mother?” Benjamin said, interrupting his father’s musings.

“Yes son, I am. Your mother loves him as another son. You were only a year old when Alexander came to live with us,” Samuel answered, remembering Naomi had been in the throes of new motherhood after seeming to be barren.

“Alexander was six.”

“Yes, and he was a timid lad.” That timidity convinced Naomi that Alexander was far too young to be away from his mother, and vociferously stated her belief that his father had apprenticed him too early. Samuel’s opinion was the boy was only anxious and feeling lost in a home so different from his family’s poor dwelling.

“You were only learning to walk when he came to live with us, and he spent many hours amusing you when he and I came home after work.”

“Probably the fact he had a younger sister and brother helped him be patient with me.”

“You did take some watching then, tottering around on unsteady legs, and with more than your share of curiosity,” Samuel laughed.

“It is hard to imagine Alexander as a shy lad now. You have often said that he is a competent and faithful assistant.”

Preoccupied, Samuel did not notice his son’s comment and went on, “I am also concerned because Naomi and Alexander’s mother became friendly over the years. She used to take him to visit her when he was little, and encouraged him to go himself when he grew up.”

“I do not remember visiting his mother.”

“You were left at home with a servant.”

“Ah.”

“Your mother fretted for days when Alexander’s sister ran away from home to marry a man her father did not like; worrying about Agnes having to tell her husband when he returned from his voyage.”

“I remember it being difficult for Alexander with his family when he was baptised.”

“His parents believed he was foolish doing so, but in spite of what they said, he had been convinced by the love and support of the brethren, not empty words. We put no pressure on him, except of course that, like you, he came with us to the meetings. Over the years he attended with us, he saw that the people practised what they believed.

“I seem to remember he enjoyed the weekly fellowship meetings.”

“Yes, as he watched and learned he became hungry for the truth we teach. For a time it made his visits home uncomfortable. Although his mother had support from the brethren in her husband’s absence, she was adamant that what we believe was a forbidden subject in her home.” From remarks Alexander had made, Samuel deduced she did not want to know about their faith because of her husband’s position. His attitude was similar to the Roman one; that this ‘sect’ was subversive with their refusal to recognise the emperor as god, choosing instead to worship a God who had no statues or images.

Following a few paces behind, as they cleared the last booths of the marketplace before turning onto the marble road Benjamin said, “So Alexander won’t be at home tonight.”

“I do not think so, unless it is a false alarm with his mother. He said his father will be at sea for another few days; longer if the tides are not running well.”

Benjamin sighed, thinking this was not the right time to tell him about Meshua...

Turning to look at his son Samuel said, “Sorry I have been so preoccupied with Alexander and how your mother will react. Tell me how it went at the farm.”

Seeing the decision had been taken out of his hands Benjamin hurried to catch up and said, “To begin with the lad on the gate wouldn’t let me in. He said I was not the man who had been coming on the other days of the wedding feast.”

“Ah. Levi was being careful. I heard there had been trouble with pagan youths.”

“The lad was staring at my hair and beard and I overheard him saying to Levi that I wasn’t like the other guests. Did Alexander have any difficulty gaining entrance at first?”

“I don’t think so, but because his hair and beard are thick and black like theirs, the difference between him and the Jews might not have been so noticeable.”

“This hair of mine might well be similar to King David’s as you and Aima always told me, but it has caused me a lot of teasing over the years.”

Samuel had heard the complaint before and said nothing, continuing with what he wanted to know. “Did everything else go well? You were a little later than I expected.”

Benjamin paused just a little too long, and Samuel asked, “Did something go wrong at the farm?”

Drawing a deep breath, Benjamin began, “I saw to all the lamps as you wanted...”

“But...?”

“Meshua ben Simon suggested it would be better that I leave,” he admitted, his face reddening.

“Meshua? The seller of ordinary grade parchment and ink here in the market? The son of the man that Saba buys the better quality parchment from?”

“Yes, Abba.”

Samuel puzzled over it for a few moments then asked, “Why would he tell you to leave? Levi is the owner of the farm. His wife and Meshua’s wife are sisters, but that doesn’t give him authority...” Shaking his head and walking on Samuel instructed, “You’d better tell me what made him say that.”

Keeping up with him, Benjamin related the story of Joseph forcing a cup of wine on him and insisting that he toast Chanan since they had all been at the rabbi’s school together. Then he gave an account of his difficulty extricating himself from the group when Joseph and his friends were drinking too much.

Reflecting sadly that Benjamin should not have been with the young men, but knowing of the rabbi’s son, Samuel realised that Benjamin probably had little choice.

“Later, when I was seeing to the lamps, a couple of them harassed two young girls who turned out to be the daughters of Meshua ben Simon,” Benjamin said, trying to keep his tale brief.

“So what did that have to do with you, son?” Samuel raised an eyebrow.

“I was moving a lamp to provide more light near the kitchen, and I saw what they were doing...”

“So you intervened?” Samuel asked, shaking his head. Sometimes he despaired of his son overcoming his impulsive nature. He had prayed about it, tried to guide him, but Benjamin had to see the need to change... and think before he acted.

“Yes Abba, I did... because the girls were young and frightened,” he said defensively, then corrected himself, “Well, the little one was, the older one was trying to stand up to them.”

“Oh, Benjamin.”

“I think you would have been proud of me Abba. I tolerated Asaph’s gibes, ignored his friend’s comments, and when Thomas tried to punch me, I did not lose my temper Abba. Nor did I hit them although they said I did,” Benjamin assured his father. “They were so affected by the wine they had drunk, when Thomas tried to punch me, he fell over.”

“Thomas? Not Thomas ben Jonas?”

“Yes, he and his friend Asaph ben Hadad... He tripped over Thomas.” The ghost of a smile twitched his lips at the memory but was quickly suppressed.

“I remember they are old adversaries of yours. You had trouble with them when you were young.”

“I must have been about eleven years old when I lost my temper and punched Thomas. It seems that I will live with that forever.”

“So why did Meshua advise you to leave?” Samuel asked, steering the conversation back on track.

“They went to Meshua and said I had been the one harassing his daughters.”

“Didn’t you explain?”

“Yes, but even when he questioned his older daughter – who told him that I spoke the truth, and he decided to believe me, he said their fathers were important men in the community...”

“And you are a ‘heretic, ' a follower of our Saviour,” his father finished, shaking his head.

“Abba, sometimes it is so hard to not argue back when they tell lies about our Saviour. Meshua said Jesus was no Messiah...”

“I know son but think about it.” Samuel broke in, reaching out and briefly touched his son’s shoulder. “Jesus never argued. He confronted Pharisees with the truth and challenged them, but never argued with them.” Seeing his son’s crestfallen face, he added, “You are talking about people who are convinced we are heretics. Probably to them you are as one unclean. There is nothing you could say to change their minds. Leave it to God. Remember in the psalms ‘a soft answer turns away wrath’?”