From the Stoa this day I will recite the foundation of Christianity as if it had taken place in that large, mythical bar room.
For all you religious nuts out there, this is for demonstration purposes only. No heresies were committed in the act of this writing.
So, that out of the way, let us describe how this bar looks around 32 a.d. I will be compressing the events into a single day, though this will really cover a span of many years.
In this incredibly large bar there are many empires. Some large, some small. Some are old and some are new. At this time, though, there are only a few Great Powers in the world, such as Imperial Rome, China, Persia, and the Indians of the sub-continent. The minor powers generally survive at the sufferance of the great powers and to the barbarians in their regions.
In the Western portion of the bar, the scene is dominated by the Great Table of the Romans. There are many seated at this massive table. In the middle you have Rome itself, as represented by Tiberius, the heir of the purple from Octavian's long, long rule. Not yet Emperor, but thought of as "First Consul" and "Caesar", in deference to his famous Grandfather.
Others seated at this table are people that go by the name of Italia, Greece, Egypt, Syria, Britannia, Gaul, Near and Farther Spain, Sicilia, to name just a few.
At the far Eastern end of this Roman table, sat Judea, as represented by Pontius Pilatus, or Pontius Pilate in English. He ruled that seat under the auspices of Tiberius himself, as Senators and Generals were not permitted in Egypt or Judea.
Tied to Pilate's chair were several smaller chairs bearing the name of Jews, Aramaic, Nazarenes, Galilee, to name but a few. Recently, a new chair had appeared with the name Christians, or Followers of Christ. Sitting in this chair was a bronze complected Jew that went by the name of Jesus.
Now, Pilate had watched Jesus for some time and found him to be a rather curious fellow. He drank milk and water. Sometimes wine, but always in moderation. He ate sparingly at the table and was, for all purposes, a model Roman provincial. He paid his taxes on time, as did his followers. He followed Roman Laws, as did his followers, and he even suspected, based on his somewhat non-Jewish appearance, that he had a Roman father. Curious.
One day, Pilate overheard an argument between the Jews, as represented by Herod and his High Priest. Herod and the Priest did all the yelling while the responses of Jesus were drowned out in the noise. This forced Pilate to move closer to the disturbance so that he could settle the issue if the argument concerned Roman rule.
It turns out the Herod and the Priest were angry that Jesus was pulling followers away from the Jewish faith. They were beginning to follow Jesus in ever increasing numbers. They were also shouting that Jesus was teaching nonsense to the Jewish people. Saying that they did not need to purchase animals from the money-changers to make sacrifices to the Jewish God. Other non-sense about how God is within everyone and Jesus was the Key to salvation and all that.
Boy, the veins on Herod sure were bulging.
Pilate lost interest since this looked like an internal Provincial matter. Rome was strong because it let the savage little provinces run their own daily affairs while Pilate concentrated on the "big picture" of provincial rule. Let the little folks have their single, rather poor god. Let them bicker about the irrelevant trivia of their religion.
A loud noise caught Pilates' attention as the Priest slapped Jesus hard in the face. Hard enough to make Pilate jump in his seat. Expecting a brawl to break out, he reached for his scepter of rule. Instead of a brawl breaking out, Jesus looked back at the priest an actually turned the uninjured cheek towards the priest and offered it up for a second blow.
Angry, the Priest sat back down. Pilate let the scepter return to his side while he took a pull from his goblet of wine, watching the priest with narrow eyelids.
No sooner had he returned to his meal when there was a tug on his shoulder. It was the little Jew-priest again. "Jesus and his followers are not paying their taxes! He is teaching his people that only the world beyond matters and that taxes are a distraction from God."
Pilate leaned over and looked a Jesus, sitting quietly in his seat, holding a cold beer to his left cheek. "What do you have to say for yourself, Jesus?"
Alternating between sipping the beer and holding it to his face, he said, "Render onto Caesar what is Caesars. Render onto God what is God's."
Pilate thought about this for a moment and then shushed and shooed the filthily little barbarian priest away from his chair.
Hardly had Pilate eaten more than half of his meal the little barbarian priest was again tugging at Pilates' arm.
"Jesus plots rebellion against Rome itself!", flecks of chicken and flat bread speckled the Priest's unkempt beard.
Looking back over at Jesus he saw a shaft of light coming through an window in the roof, illuminating Jesus and framing him in brilliance. He could not be sure, but he thought he saw Doves resting upon his shoulders. The Doves were polite and were not even soiling Jesus' robes. He even saw Jesus wrapping a bandage round a Cat's paw. The Cat did not show any interest in the Doves and only looked adoringly at Jesus.
A cricket sang somewhere in the distance.
Pilate ran his tongue over his teeth and sat back in his chair. "Riiight, that guy is plotting an armed insurrection against Rome? Doubtful."
Again, he shooed the filthily little creep away from his chair. He had to keep brushing off the dirt and dust from his sleeve every time that Cretan touched him.
Some little time passed and then both Herod and the Priest flanked Pilate. With alternating tugs on his tunic sleeve, Herod and the Priest began to hassle Pilate.
"His people break Jewish customs." "He eats unclean animals." "He seeks to replace us and rebel against Roman rule." "We will cause trouble for you if Jesus is not punished." "We will petition Rome to take kill Jesus as a Rebel if you don't do anything".
With his head pivoting from side to side at Herod and the Priest, the last two items caught Pilates' attention. No one went over his head to Rome. No one.
A sharp conversation passed between the three of them finally. There were still more Jews than Christians and if Pilate did not put down this Jewish Heresy, then the Jews would put it down for Rome. This would mean economic disruption and an image seen in Rome of a Prelate that could not administer even a small, dusty and unimportant Province of Rome.
Even though this was technically and internal cultural matter and beyond the scope of Roman rules, Pilate knew he had to do something. Treacherous Jews. Who knew they were so devious?
Pilate was an experience administrator of Rome. He had travelled the known Roman world and knew that religious zealots like this popped up from time to time. He also knew that killing the messenger was far, far easier than killing the message.
Pilate was a professional and he knew from experience that if you kill a charismatic religious icon then all you were doing was creating both a martyr and myth to the cause. Other, less scrupulous people would usurp that power and put it to uses that would not favor Roman interests at all.
Yet, he could not deny what these Jewish barbarians demanded of him. Jesus was going to have to go.
With a snap of the fingers and a gesture with his scepter, two Roman Centurions came out from behind the bar and flanked Jesus.
Herod and the Priest beamed with pleasure and laughed openly at Jesus.
With a gesture he, Pilate stated, "Scourge and Execute this man."
As the Centurions grabbed Jesus by the elbows and began to drag him away, Jesus said to the shaft of light coming through the roof, "Forgive them Father for they know not what they do."
Pilate sat down angrily and kicked Herod in the butt, sending him cackling and giggling to the floor near his chair. A fierce look was all it took to send the Priest scurrying back to his chair.
Pilate knew all to well what he was doing and he hated himself for it. Not that he was sending an innocent man to his death, heck no, he sent a dozen people like that to the cross every day before lunch, but it was that he was turning this man into a martyr.
He chewed silently on his food even as the sounds of a whip began to resonate from behind the bar. No, sir, this was not going to end well at all.
Oh, how he could not foresee what was starting here with that single gesture. A following that would continue to grow and endure for more than two millennia.
So in the end, Pilate shoved his plate aside just as they drug Jesus back into the main room. His flesh had been flayed from his bones in places. Thorns had been crammed upon his naked forehead. Blood and fluids literally oozed from him and drained upon the floor.
The two little Jewish savages continued to cackle and high five each other, secure in the reality that their little money-making racket could continue on the side without this person interfering with their profits.
Pilate watched as this man who preached nothing but non-violent peace and love for all mankind, regardless of sex or nationality was nailed to the cross-pole in of the bar's ceiling.
Pilate could not be sure but he thought he heard Jesus forgive him with his few remaining breaths. Odd fellow, this Jesus.
Pilate was right of course. He did create a martyr. A movement that would claim the soul of future Emperors had been created.
The Jews continued to flex their muscle, now that they knew that they could manipulate Roman Prelates to get what they wanted.
Eventually they shoved a Prelate to demand more religious benefits and the Prelate pouched him out. The Jew sprang up and began hit the Prelate with a chair. In no time at all, Rome himself came down to that end of the table and hammered the Jews straight to the floor. There was so much refuse on the floor when Rome was done that he had to scrape his sandals clean.
A few short decades later and the Jews were at it again. This time, Rome smashed the Jews, as before, but instead of sitting them back down at the table, Rome broke up the chair and threw it in the fire. He kicked the Jews from Judea and told them never to come back. Head off to Germany, maybe they would take you, Rome said.
There you have it. The founding of Christianity and the scattering of the Jews.
Hard to make something this serious sound funny, but I gave it a shot.
Live well.
--Zavost
For all you religious nuts out there, this is for demonstration purposes only. No heresies were committed in the act of this writing.
So, that out of the way, let us describe how this bar looks around 32 a.d. I will be compressing the events into a single day, though this will really cover a span of many years.
In this incredibly large bar there are many empires. Some large, some small. Some are old and some are new. At this time, though, there are only a few Great Powers in the world, such as Imperial Rome, China, Persia, and the Indians of the sub-continent. The minor powers generally survive at the sufferance of the great powers and to the barbarians in their regions.
In the Western portion of the bar, the scene is dominated by the Great Table of the Romans. There are many seated at this massive table. In the middle you have Rome itself, as represented by Tiberius, the heir of the purple from Octavian's long, long rule. Not yet Emperor, but thought of as "First Consul" and "Caesar", in deference to his famous Grandfather.
Others seated at this table are people that go by the name of Italia, Greece, Egypt, Syria, Britannia, Gaul, Near and Farther Spain, Sicilia, to name just a few.
At the far Eastern end of this Roman table, sat Judea, as represented by Pontius Pilatus, or Pontius Pilate in English. He ruled that seat under the auspices of Tiberius himself, as Senators and Generals were not permitted in Egypt or Judea.
Tied to Pilate's chair were several smaller chairs bearing the name of Jews, Aramaic, Nazarenes, Galilee, to name but a few. Recently, a new chair had appeared with the name Christians, or Followers of Christ. Sitting in this chair was a bronze complected Jew that went by the name of Jesus.
Now, Pilate had watched Jesus for some time and found him to be a rather curious fellow. He drank milk and water. Sometimes wine, but always in moderation. He ate sparingly at the table and was, for all purposes, a model Roman provincial. He paid his taxes on time, as did his followers. He followed Roman Laws, as did his followers, and he even suspected, based on his somewhat non-Jewish appearance, that he had a Roman father. Curious.
One day, Pilate overheard an argument between the Jews, as represented by Herod and his High Priest. Herod and the Priest did all the yelling while the responses of Jesus were drowned out in the noise. This forced Pilate to move closer to the disturbance so that he could settle the issue if the argument concerned Roman rule.
It turns out the Herod and the Priest were angry that Jesus was pulling followers away from the Jewish faith. They were beginning to follow Jesus in ever increasing numbers. They were also shouting that Jesus was teaching nonsense to the Jewish people. Saying that they did not need to purchase animals from the money-changers to make sacrifices to the Jewish God. Other non-sense about how God is within everyone and Jesus was the Key to salvation and all that.
Boy, the veins on Herod sure were bulging.
Pilate lost interest since this looked like an internal Provincial matter. Rome was strong because it let the savage little provinces run their own daily affairs while Pilate concentrated on the "big picture" of provincial rule. Let the little folks have their single, rather poor god. Let them bicker about the irrelevant trivia of their religion.
A loud noise caught Pilates' attention as the Priest slapped Jesus hard in the face. Hard enough to make Pilate jump in his seat. Expecting a brawl to break out, he reached for his scepter of rule. Instead of a brawl breaking out, Jesus looked back at the priest an actually turned the uninjured cheek towards the priest and offered it up for a second blow.
Angry, the Priest sat back down. Pilate let the scepter return to his side while he took a pull from his goblet of wine, watching the priest with narrow eyelids.
No sooner had he returned to his meal when there was a tug on his shoulder. It was the little Jew-priest again. "Jesus and his followers are not paying their taxes! He is teaching his people that only the world beyond matters and that taxes are a distraction from God."
Pilate leaned over and looked a Jesus, sitting quietly in his seat, holding a cold beer to his left cheek. "What do you have to say for yourself, Jesus?"
Alternating between sipping the beer and holding it to his face, he said, "Render onto Caesar what is Caesars. Render onto God what is God's."
Pilate thought about this for a moment and then shushed and shooed the filthily little barbarian priest away from his chair.
Hardly had Pilate eaten more than half of his meal the little barbarian priest was again tugging at Pilates' arm.
"Jesus plots rebellion against Rome itself!", flecks of chicken and flat bread speckled the Priest's unkempt beard.
Looking back over at Jesus he saw a shaft of light coming through an window in the roof, illuminating Jesus and framing him in brilliance. He could not be sure, but he thought he saw Doves resting upon his shoulders. The Doves were polite and were not even soiling Jesus' robes. He even saw Jesus wrapping a bandage round a Cat's paw. The Cat did not show any interest in the Doves and only looked adoringly at Jesus.
A cricket sang somewhere in the distance.
Pilate ran his tongue over his teeth and sat back in his chair. "Riiight, that guy is plotting an armed insurrection against Rome? Doubtful."
Again, he shooed the filthily little creep away from his chair. He had to keep brushing off the dirt and dust from his sleeve every time that Cretan touched him.
Some little time passed and then both Herod and the Priest flanked Pilate. With alternating tugs on his tunic sleeve, Herod and the Priest began to hassle Pilate.
"His people break Jewish customs." "He eats unclean animals." "He seeks to replace us and rebel against Roman rule." "We will cause trouble for you if Jesus is not punished." "We will petition Rome to take kill Jesus as a Rebel if you don't do anything".
With his head pivoting from side to side at Herod and the Priest, the last two items caught Pilates' attention. No one went over his head to Rome. No one.
A sharp conversation passed between the three of them finally. There were still more Jews than Christians and if Pilate did not put down this Jewish Heresy, then the Jews would put it down for Rome. This would mean economic disruption and an image seen in Rome of a Prelate that could not administer even a small, dusty and unimportant Province of Rome.
Even though this was technically and internal cultural matter and beyond the scope of Roman rules, Pilate knew he had to do something. Treacherous Jews. Who knew they were so devious?
Pilate was an experience administrator of Rome. He had travelled the known Roman world and knew that religious zealots like this popped up from time to time. He also knew that killing the messenger was far, far easier than killing the message.
Pilate was a professional and he knew from experience that if you kill a charismatic religious icon then all you were doing was creating both a martyr and myth to the cause. Other, less scrupulous people would usurp that power and put it to uses that would not favor Roman interests at all.
Yet, he could not deny what these Jewish barbarians demanded of him. Jesus was going to have to go.
With a snap of the fingers and a gesture with his scepter, two Roman Centurions came out from behind the bar and flanked Jesus.
Herod and the Priest beamed with pleasure and laughed openly at Jesus.
With a gesture he, Pilate stated, "Scourge and Execute this man."
As the Centurions grabbed Jesus by the elbows and began to drag him away, Jesus said to the shaft of light coming through the roof, "Forgive them Father for they know not what they do."
Pilate sat down angrily and kicked Herod in the butt, sending him cackling and giggling to the floor near his chair. A fierce look was all it took to send the Priest scurrying back to his chair.
Pilate knew all to well what he was doing and he hated himself for it. Not that he was sending an innocent man to his death, heck no, he sent a dozen people like that to the cross every day before lunch, but it was that he was turning this man into a martyr.
He chewed silently on his food even as the sounds of a whip began to resonate from behind the bar. No, sir, this was not going to end well at all.
Oh, how he could not foresee what was starting here with that single gesture. A following that would continue to grow and endure for more than two millennia.
So in the end, Pilate shoved his plate aside just as they drug Jesus back into the main room. His flesh had been flayed from his bones in places. Thorns had been crammed upon his naked forehead. Blood and fluids literally oozed from him and drained upon the floor.
The two little Jewish savages continued to cackle and high five each other, secure in the reality that their little money-making racket could continue on the side without this person interfering with their profits.
Pilate watched as this man who preached nothing but non-violent peace and love for all mankind, regardless of sex or nationality was nailed to the cross-pole in of the bar's ceiling.
Pilate could not be sure but he thought he heard Jesus forgive him with his few remaining breaths. Odd fellow, this Jesus.
Pilate was right of course. He did create a martyr. A movement that would claim the soul of future Emperors had been created.
The Jews continued to flex their muscle, now that they knew that they could manipulate Roman Prelates to get what they wanted.
Eventually they shoved a Prelate to demand more religious benefits and the Prelate pouched him out. The Jew sprang up and began hit the Prelate with a chair. In no time at all, Rome himself came down to that end of the table and hammered the Jews straight to the floor. There was so much refuse on the floor when Rome was done that he had to scrape his sandals clean.
A few short decades later and the Jews were at it again. This time, Rome smashed the Jews, as before, but instead of sitting them back down at the table, Rome broke up the chair and threw it in the fire. He kicked the Jews from Judea and told them never to come back. Head off to Germany, maybe they would take you, Rome said.
There you have it. The founding of Christianity and the scattering of the Jews.
Hard to make something this serious sound funny, but I gave it a shot.
Live well.
--Zavost
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