Antipas, nobleman of Caesarea;
To Luke and the noble Calpurnius;
Greetings.
I write to you from Caesarea, where I have returned after an absence of nearly a year. I have been here for three weeks now, reunited with my friends and family. But what should have been a joyous reunion has been tinged with sadness, since Simon ben Joseph, my traveling companion and friend, did not accompany me here. He died nearly a month ago in Antioch, overcome in his struggle for life by an unrelenting fever. He had no final words of note but died peacefully in his sleep during the night. Leochares arranged for Simon to be buried alongside other Christian Jews at Antioch. And so the life of a brave soul ended there. Simon was indeed a man of honor, and I will speak only well of him for as long as I live.
After Simon’s death, I arranged for passage on the next ship bound for Caesarea, and within a few days I arrived in Caesarea in the heat of the summer sun. Androneikos, my son who now has charge over all the businesses and the household, was pleased to welcome me home at last. (While in Antioch I had sent word to him about my delay.) The following day he held a grand banquet to welcome me, so I was quickly surrounded by old friends and colleagues whom I sorely missed while in Pergamum. I am glad to report that Androneikos continues to prosper as the businesses thrive, and his oversight of the household is impeccable.
Early on in my time here, I sent Stachys and Herminos into Galilee to see if they could discover anything about Simon’s family. They first went to one of our family vineyards to the northwest of Tiberias to confer with the manager, who had dealings with Simon several years ago. He had overseen the termination of Simon’s tenancy on the land when Simon had no longer been able to pay what was required of him, so of course the manager remembered him. He offered a few vague leads as to the possible whereabouts of Simon’s six children, but Stachys and Herminos were unable to locate any of them. It seems they have dispersed or become slaves; possibly some are dead. Fortunately, Stachys and Herminos were able to locate Simon’s widow, Mary. She had been taken in by one of her brothers and his wife, a childless couple who operate a small merchant trade out of Sepphoris. My servants gave her the news of Simon’s death and related to her all that had happened to him in his efforts to provide for his family. She bore her sadness bravely, admitting that she never imagined that Simon would return. He had been frail for much of his later life, and she foresaw as little future for him in Pergamum as there had been for him in Galilee. Stachys and Herminos stayed with her a few hours and then departed to return to me, leaving for Mary two gold rings and one silver goblet. I had instructed my servants to use these to improve the lot of any of Simon’s relatives they happened to find. Mary was grateful, thinking that she might use the proceeds of their sale to continue the search for her children.
For my part, I have remained in Caesarea since arriving from Antioch. I had imagined traveling to Tyre to see former business associates there, but the summer heat is unmerciful, and the prospect of travel of any kind is now unattractive. The idea of visiting the city of Jerusalem, as Calpurnius had done, has also fallen victim to the heat, especially since Calpurnius’s visit to the city was marked by disappointment at its desperate condition after being humiliated by Roman forces two decades ago. Moreover, I have heard reports that a good number of leading Jews have relocated in the city of Jamnia, just south of here, to the west of Jerusalem. There they are seeking to reconfigure the Jewish way of life now that the temple of Israel’s god has been destroyed. Evidently, a leading view among them is that, without recourse to the temple, atonement for sin is made as they repent of their wrongdoing, worship their god, pray to him, and serve him in heartfelt acts of kindness to others. I have heard that a dispute continues among them concerning the legitimacy of Rome’s overlordship of Judea. Some are still disgruntled by that state of affairs, while others are resigned to it.
I intend to begin my return journey to Pergamum in a week’s time. I will inquire as to whether any ships are traveling to Smyrna or Ephesus. If I find only a vessel bound for Smyrna, I will of course take passage on that, then travel from Smyrna to Pergamum by land. If a vessel is traveling directly to Ephesus, however, I will gladly seek passage on it, with the hopes of seeing you briefly before returning to Pergamum.
In the meantime, I have several more banquets to attend here in Caesarea. I do enjoy these occasions of fun and frivolity, but they mean something different to me now than they did in the past. Previously, I would have been the first to use them as opportunities to parade my honor, intent on maintaining and enhancing my prospects. Having removed myself from the cut and thrust of Caesarean life, it is easier now not to take those dynamics too seriously. But doing so makes them seem somewhat hollow and lacking in substance. I am as good as any man at flagrantly displaying my opulence, ensuring that I am seen with other notable civic leaders and generally promoting myself. But these seem to be things of little purpose in the grand scheme of things. I am searching to find an explanation for my recently acquired dissatisfaction with a way of life that has been ingrained in me throughout the course of my long life. That explanation must have something to do with my experiences since leaving Caesarea. In the past few months, I have been exposed to the desperate needs of others and have begun to view them with a sympathetic eye. As a consequence, the single-minded purpose of the gala events of the elite here at Caesarea seems almost woeful, pitiful perhaps, involving little else than self-interest. Any single banquet that I have attended in the past few weeks would have provided well over two years’ worth of meals for Galatia and her little baby. Could it be that the code of honor I have attempted to preserve my entire life is simply a self-perpetuating form of societal machinations that has the potential to inflict harm? And if so, might the code of honor itself have shameful side effects? You can see that, although I am not pondering the great works of Homer or of Luke, I remain a seeker of truth.
I am contemplating resigning my position as overseer of the renovation of the Pergamene Asclepion. There are plenty of young upstarts who would be keen to pick up where I left off, and I am content to let the honor fall to one of them. I no longer have the heart to invest myself in this project when I could be investing my diminishing energies in other things of value. Perhaps my return to Pergamum will cause me to change my mind on this, but at this time my interest in bolstering an important pillar of Pergamene life has waned.
Perhaps I will see you again in Ephesus if I gain passage on a ship. If not, I will write to you from Pergamum when time permits. Until I see you again, may you be blessed by the high god of goodness.1
1. Dates pertaining to letter collection 12 are likely to be as follows: On 15 June, Antipas left Pergamum, arriving in Ephesus on 18 June, where he stayed for three days. Departing by ship on 22 June, he sailed for four days before arriving in Antioch on 25 June. He stayed in Antioch for two weeks until 2 July. During this time he wrote his two Antiochene letters. He departed for Caesarea on 3 July, arriving on 6 July. He wrote his Caesarean letter on 27 July.