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A VILE CONTAGION (A Short Story)
What if the great Apostle Paul had been arrested before he had an opportunity to write the letters that make up nearly half of the texts in the New Testament? And, further, what if the one responsible for his execution had been doing so with the clandestine intention of thereby advancing the nascent Christian message? I offer this story as bit of alternate history with a noir twist …
A VILE CONTAGION
by
James C. Clar
The Governor of Bithynia sat on a stone bench in the shade of the portico. He was deep in meditation. Perhaps owing to a variation in the quality of the light that penetrated his closed eyelids, he sensed someone standing in his presence.
“What is it, Sextus?” he said with barely restrained anger. Were it not the fact that the man interrupting him was his trusted aide, he would perhaps have ordered the fool’s execution.
“I am, of course, deeply sorry to disturb you. I would not have done so were it not for the fact that we have managed to apprehend the man known as Paulos. Surely my lord recalls that he is a ringleader in that vile cult that is sweeping the province like a contagion.”
At the mention of the name “Paulos,” the governor looked up with heightened interest. “Indeed. Have you examined him yet and, if so, what have you learned?”
“We have, my lord,” Sextus replied. “In truth he is proving to be quite recalcitrant. Even under the most rigorous questioning he refuses to divulge the names of any of his co-conspirators. He is similarly adamant in his refusal to curse the name of that criminal with whom this pernicious superstition apparently originated. We have demanded repeatedly that he simply offer obeiscience to our gods in the form of incense. Excellency, he has not repented. In my judgment he will not repented. Not even the threat of capital sanction sways him. In fact, he appears almost to court death in the name of the one to whom he so perversely gives his allegiance.”
The governor was silent for some time. All the while he absently stroked his chin. Finally, he responded. “Sextus, I share your frustration. This whole situation is getting out of hand. Nonetheless, I think we must still exercise prudence. We are civilized, after all. If nothing else, however, this man’s obstinacy does deserve punishment. Confiscate his property and order him flogged. Thirty-nine lashes should be sufficient. Then release him. Word will then spread as to our resolve in dealing with the purveyors of such nonsense.”
Looking down while shifting his weight from one leg to the other, Sextus replied with trepidation. “Excellency, I must humbly beg to differ. I have been receiving disquieting reports that the temples are emptier now than they have ever been. Even more disturbing, the merchants are complaining that the sale of sacrificial animals has dropped precipitously. We both know how the emperor will react if the economy falters as a result. I need not also mention that the sages and astrologers continue to remark on the evil portents that have been observed of late. Many are beginning to equate such signs with the general abandonment of our ancestral religion fostered by this Paulos and his ilk. It seems to me that widespread civil unrest can only be avoided by bold action now.”
“What, then, do you suggest?” the governor asked.
“My lord,” Sextus continued. “I have with some temerity taken the liberty to prepare an order for the public execution of Paulos. With all due respect to your reputation for clemency, it seems to me – as it should to you – that this is our only recourse. We must put a stop to this pestilence before it spreads any further. You may think me an alarmist, but I am convinced that the future well-being of the empire depends upon our reaction to this threat here and now.”
Once again the governor sat in silence. He seemed to be staring at something that only he could see. Finally, with an expression of pained resignation, he looked at his assistant. “Very well, give me the order.”
Sextus handed his superior a tablet along with a stylus. The governor took them, appended his signature and seal, and handed them both back to his aide.
“I know that this disturbs you, my lord, but history will show that you have done the right thing.”
“Neither of us can claim to know what the future will bring, Sextus. We must leave that to the astrologers and sages in whom you show such confidence. You may go, but have the prisoner brought to me at once.”
Some time later the governor looked up to see a man with a short, pointed beard being ushered into his presence. Shackled, he was escorted by two soldiers. What the governor noticed, however, was the light that shone in the prisoner’s eyes. Turning to the guards, the governor commanded them, “Leave us.” Too well trained to reveal their surprise or to object, the two soldiers turned on their heels and withdrew.
Once the guards were gone, the governor stood and touched his forehead with his fingers and brought his right hand down to his sternum. He quickly finished the gesture by tapping his left then right shoulders. Not quite believing what he had just seen, Paulos nevertheless responded in kind.
“You must understand,” the governor began almost in a whisper. “I have no choice but to order your execution. Especially given what is happening in the province now, it isimportant that I remain in this capacity. It is the only way that I can continue to protect our brothers and sisters. We are flourishing here largely because I have been able to divert attention to other matters. Once again it has become expedient that one man die so that others might live. Unfortunately, you are that man.”
Paulos looked squarely at his captor. His gaze was penetrating. “Excellency, I understand. Be assured that I go to my death eagerly and with great joy. Is it not our greatest desire to follow in the footsteps of the one whose name we bear?”
The governor looked closely at the man who stood before him. The official’s expression was one of envy. “I admire your faith, but I am not sure that I share it in quite the same measure. Nor am I truly confident that the path that I have chosen will result in the desired outcome. I sometimes fear that my decisions are little more than the rationalizations of a coward.”
“You are no coward. As to the other matter, well, we will all one day be held accountable for what we have done, for what we have chosen. Apart from that we must trust to providence.”
“Guards,” the governor called out. Just before the two soldiers re-entered, the prisoner mouthed the word, “Marana-tha.”
“Not quickly enough,” the governor replied quietly, “not quickly enough.”
THE END
A note on anachronistic elements in this story:
1. The "official" Roman attitude toward Christianity in this story is more consistent with the second and third centuries A.D. than it is with the mid-first century as implied here. In fact, the tone and language is based largely on the correspondence between the provincial governor, Pliny and the Emperor Trajan which dates from 112 A.D.
2. The “sign of the cross” which is used as a convenient literary device in this tale did not in fact gain currency in the West until nearly the eight century A.D.
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