(AN: So far it doesn't seem that people are paying attention to my stories - or maybe it's because I've not been on long enough to edit them. Either way, here is new chapter, filled with controversial issues. Seriously, it's my biggest annoyance with Paul, and one of the reasons I was so wanting to not do this story: he's self-contradictory.)

(On another note, I'm starting to hate this chapter. I had finished almost half of it when my computer died on me...again! As if that wasn't worse, I got back on here to fix it, and I got logged out and all my work was erased. On top of that, people in California are even colder and more distant than the people of Tennessee, from first-hand experience.)

Friends and Enemies

West of Athens lay the peninsula of Peloponnesus, the homeland of the infamous warriors of Lacedaemon. On the north-eastern corner of the great peninsula, almost two days journey from Athens, lay the city-state of Corinth. It was to this land that Paul walked alone from the debacle at Athens.

While he was walking, he found himself on the outskirts of the town, where there stood a few buildings apart from the town proper that, he guessed, were built there recently. From the dress of the people he saw coming in and out of the sub-division, he guessed that this must be a Jewish quarter. Though he knew of no Jews in Corinth.

Into the Jewish quarter walked Paul, and he looked upon the merchandise that was sold in the markets. It all seemed kosher enough, yet there was something all too foreign about these Israelites, something he could not quite put his finger upon. Suddenly, his face lit up as he smelled the familiar scent of animal hides used in a certain trade with which he was intimately familiar.

"Excuse me," Paul said, introducing himself to a man who sat out in front of his tent with his wife, working on the heavy canvas of a tent.

"What can I do for you?" the man said at first, speaking in Greek. Then he looked up at his customer and his face lit up. "Hey, you're from Jerusalem, aren't you?"

"Actually, I'm from Tarsus," Paul returned. "And from where do you hail, my friend?"

"Aquila's my name," the tent-maker said. "I was born in Pontus, but moved to Italy."

"You're from Rome?" Paul asked.

"Were," Aquila said with remorse. "Emperor Claudius had all Jews evicted from Italy, that's why there are so many here. Oh, but where are my manners? Please, come inside our tent! My wife and I would be honored if you joined us."

"Oh, I'm not sure..."

"I insist," Aquila returned. "Please, just accept it and don't play any games with me. We in Rome don't have the patience to ask someone three times before they accept an offer to dinner."

"It is to show humility," Paul returned. "And that the guest is not imposing on his host."

"It's no imposition at all!" Aquila insisted.

"Very well," Paul smiled. "Yes, I will join you. Perhaps you can share with me some of the Roman methods for tent making."

"If you share with my wife and I the old ways of our fathers," Aquila stated. "It's been too long, and I fear I've forgotten many of the kosher ways to build tents."

So Paul stayed with them, and ate dinner with them. Once their stomachs were filled, Paul began to discuss with them concerning the Messiah. As he opened up to them the story of Jesus, for they spoke in Greek, he heard both of them comment on how His life fulfilled the Torah and the prophecies.

"I feel that I have been somewhat deceived," Paul said jestingly.

"In what way?" Aquila asked suspiciously.

"I was given to believe," Paul replied. "That, because you lived in Rome, you had almost forgotten about the Torah."

"Hardly," Priscilla, Aquila's wife, spoke up. "I remember much of what my parents told me about the Torah and the tale of our people."

A look of sudden discomfort passed over Paul's face. Aquila noted it, but decided that a change of the subject would be best.

"I hope you will be in Corinth for a while," he said. "It would be a blessing to us all if you would speak at our synagogue."

"I'll see what I can do." Paul replied. They finished their meal in silence. Once they were finished, Priscilla busied herself with the cleaning while Aquila showed Paul to a corner of the tent where he would be sleeping. He noted that Paul's countenance was grim and severe.

"What troubles you?" Aquila asked.

"Nothing that concerns you," Paul returned.

"Well, as you are my guest," Aquila replied. "It's my duty to be concerned. I'd be nothing short of a terrible host if I didn't..."

"It's your wife, not you." Paul stated.

"Fine, what is it?"

"It is between myself and your wife!"

"I am her husband," Aquila said. "Her friend and companion. It's between you and..."

"You should be her lord and master!"

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"God created man in His image," Paul began. "But woman was created in the image of man. As God is the head of our brotherhood, so the man is the head of his household."

"And?"

"When people come to your shop," Paul asked. "Do you have occasion to minister to them regarding God and the truth?"

"Why, yes. Of course. You'd be surprised how much more open people will be..."

"You and your wife?"

"Well, yes. But what has that got to do..."

"I will not have a woman teaching men, as if she were an elder!" Paul replied, his tone scathing. "Her place is to bear you sons, not to usurp the authority and power out of your hands!"

The tent suddenly became silent. Priscilla looked back at them from across the tent, an unreadable look in her eyes. Aquila took her side, placing his arm around her shoulder. From the dead silence that followed, Paul was certain he had crossed some sort of line, though wherein he had erred was evading him.

"It's okay," Aquila whispered to her. "You don't have to..."

"No, I must."

"You don't have to, it's just between..."

"Paul," Priscilla said, speaking directly to the short, bald rabbi. "I do not mean to usurp anyone's authority. I help my husband with the making of tents and share the truth about God whenever I can."

"But it is not a woman's duty to teach!" Paul stated. "Yours is to..."

"I am barren," Priscilla stated, with fatalistic finality. Paul felt his mouth go dry and all sense of former superiority turned now to remorse and guilt. Yet, despite this revelation, he found himself still unmoved by her statement.

"God gave me a mind to understand His word," Priscilla said. "If my salvation cannot be through bearing children, I shall spread the gospel. If I have erred in this, then God shall be my judge."

Paul said nothing, but mused upon what she had just said, and how it affected him. True enough, his empathy for her condition didn't change, but thoughts of an argument he had long ago with Barnabas came back into mind. Suddenly it dawned upon him that he found himself in a reversal of the roles in which he and Barnabas had once taken. Now he was John Mark, erring, and they were he, holding the power of forgiveness in their hands. What made this worse was that, despite his indifference, he knew in his heart that he had gone too far.

But he was adamant on what he had said, both then and now.

I will not budge, HaShem, he prayed. John Mark betrayed You and this woman has no right to be teaching men. Am I to be unforgiven for that?

By the time Timothy and Silas arrived from Macedonia, Paul had already gotten quite a name for himself. Both Priscilla and Aquila showed themselves to be true to their new-found faith in that they quite easily forgave Paul his blunder and permitted him to remain with them for as long as he desired. In following up Aquila's invitation, Paul visited the synagogues every Sabbath. Though many were still refusing to believe the gospel, the elder rabbi, a man with the Greek name of Crispus, enjoyed what Paul had to say and invited him to speak week after week.

At last, one day, the congregation rose up in revolt against Paul. It was not the interruptions from the back of the synagogue so much as those at the front of the synagogue, close to where Paul was preaching. He couldn't speak the name of Jesus without someone saying some filthy blasphemy. By now, it seemed, most Jews had accepted the pagan belief that Jesus' father was not God but a Roman soldier. This and other heinous blasphemies sent Paul storming out of the synagogues, shaking his robes as he went.

"Your blood be upon your own heads!" he had shouted. "I am clean of it! You reject Jesus? Now the gospel will be preached to the Gentiles!"

To Paul's amazement, Titus Justus, a man who lived next-door to the synagogue and was familiar with rabbi Crispus, offered to have Paul stay at his house. Though he had grown to like Priscilla and Aquila, he agreed, since the tent was far too small to have Timothy and Silas staying with him as well.

Almost a year later, Paul was brought before Governor Gallio's presence.

"By Zeus!" Gallio exclaimed. "What brings you before me this day?"

"This man!" cried one of the mob, pointing at Paul. "He misleads the people, telling them to worship God in a contrary way to our Law!"

"Bah!" exclaimed Gallio. "Like I give a damn about your law!"

"Governor," Paul began. "If I may interject..."

"Listen to me, you damn, dirty Jews," Gallio began. "Perhaps if you paid attention to real law, you'd know that I couldn't care less about this man and what he's done, if he's telling you to worship two gods instead of One!" he laughed at his mirth. "The law is there to stop real crimes, not to discern who worships what. Do it yourselves, it's none of my business!"

Without mercy, the mob turned on Crispus and beat him publicly. Paul, however, they let go: all the while the hateful governor Gallio refused to step in.

At last there came a time when all were feeling an itching in their feet to be on their way. So, in the house of Titus Justus, Timothy and Silas were preparing to depart. Just then Crispus, now named Sosthenes after his brave endurance of the torture he endured, entered the house. After the formal introduction, he approached Paul.

"Brother," he said. "I have here a letter from John in Ephesus."

Paul, who hadn't heard anything from John in years, eagerly opened the letter and read aloud for all to hear.

That which was from the beginning, what we have heard, seen with our own eyes and touched with our own hands, we proclaim to you all - the Word of Life. Life appeared before us, and we have seen and do testify and proclaim the eternal life, which was with the Father and appeared before us. We proclaim that we have seen and heard, that you may have fellowship with us who are with the Father and His Son Jesus the Christ. Thus do I, John, a servant of Our LORD Jesus the Christ, write that our joy may be complete.

This is the message that we have heard from Him: God is light, and in Him there is no darkness. If we claim to have fellowship in Him and yet walk in darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth. But if we walk in the light, even as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, His Son, cleanses us from all sin. If we claim that we have no sin, we are only lying to ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanses us from all unrighteousness. If we claim that we have not sinned, we call God a liar and His Word is not in us. My children, I tell you these things that you may not sin. But if any man sins, we have an advocate with the Father: Jesus the Christ, the Righteous One who is atoning sacrifice for our sins and the sins of the world.

Paul stopped reading afterward to consider what he had just seen and read, and how it affected him as well. It was though this letter came to him at this precise moment for this very predicament with which he had been privately struggling.

Suddenly it hit him. He knew exactly what he must do.

-|-~-|-O-|-~-|-

"Paul, welcome," Priscilla, who greeted him as he stood outside their tent, said. "It's been too long. Would you care to have dinner with us?"

He shook his head. "I must speak with both of you." Aquila stepped forward and Paul told them how, though he did not change his beliefs, he did not handle himself as God would have him. Once he was finished, he said his apologies.

"No, it's nothing," Aquila dismissed.

"'Nothing?'" Paul asked incredulously. "It was everything! I'm surprised I'm still permitted to speak with you, you shouldn't even wish my presence!"

"Our LORD Jesus forgave those who crucified Him," Aquila said. "Of course we forgive you."

"We both do," Priscilla added.

Paul could hardly contain himself and threw his arms around both of them in a warm, friendly embrace, regardless of the customs of the time.

"There is something else, though," he said. They both looked at him with eager expectation. "The Spirit has spoken, it is time to move on. I will return to Jerusalem and then to Antioch." He swallowed.

"I know you are displaced from your homes," he said. "Therefore, if it pleases you, I would like to invite you to come with me, as far as Ephesus. My journey to Jerusalem will go by way of Ephesus and Caesarea. From what I hear, there are many kristianos in Ephesus: for certain John is there, the disciple whom our LORD loved, and His mother as well."

"I have only this much to say," Aquila interjected. "Regarding this invitation."

"What?"

"Why didn't it come sooner?" he laughed.

(AN: I sincerely hope what you take away from this chapter is forgiveness. As much as I have bad memories of the people of the South-eastern US, I also had some good memories as well, especially of how easily they forgot wrongs done to them. Maybe they were forgiving, or just forgetful: I would like to believe the former.)

(Once again, Gallio's depiction does NOT mirror my own. If I have to reaffirm at the end of every chapter that I'm part-Jewish and don't support anti-Semiticism in any way, well, then, I don't know what else I can say.)