CHAPTER 90

Theophilus and Flavia opened their home to refugees from the fire, most of whom were followers of the Way. Many had lost family members. The majority had seen the flames wipe out every possession they had ever owned. They slept in every room of the house, and Theophilus stepped over people when he rose in the morning. Some of them he did not recognize —new refugees who had just found this haven the night before.

Everybody’s clothes smelled like smoke, mingling with the odor of dozens of unwashed people crammed into tight quarters. During the day, the refugees ventured back into the city to comb through the rubble where they had once lived or to search in vain for family members. Theophilus and Mansuetus often joined them. At night, everyone regathered at the house, where Flavia and the servants rationed out food and found places for people to sleep for a few hours.

The crowd seemed to grow daily because there was fresh water, small portions of grain, and a safe place to sleep. Every piece of clothing Theophilus owned except the tunic on his back was given to the men who took refuge in his house. Flavia’s garments adorned the women. It was, she said, the least she could do.

The first few days after the fires were full of grief and mourning. The believers held services for loved ones who didn’t survive the blaze. Stories were told about the lives of those who had died too young. Men and women were overcome with sadness and would go for long walks so they could mourn privately.

Marcus stopped by each morning to treat the burn wounds of those who had gotten too close to the flames. The rest of the refugees, along with Theophilus and Mansuetus, coughed and hacked from inhaling so much smoke. Everyone was hungry and anxious about the future.

Yet even in the midst of grief, rays of hope emerged. Children played with each other outside during the day, their squeals and laughter reminding everyone that life would go on. The third day after the fires, a mother found her two children among the hundreds of thousands of refugees at the Campus Martius complex. It was like they had come back from the dead, she said. Two days after that, a pregnant woman gave birth to a healthy child.

Theophilus leaned hard on God. He and the others started each day with prayer and teachings about the faith. They read from the manuscripts Luke had written about the life of Jesus and the journeys of Paul. Sometimes they read portions of Paul’s letters to the churches at Rome or Ephesus or Philippi. They discussed what it meant to be followers of Jesus and how his resurrection offered hope for those who had died —hope that the rest of Rome was not experiencing.

In the weeks after the fire, Theophilus noticed a real difference between those who were living at his house and the other bands of refugees staying in the public buildings. He had heard reports of constant fights and the hoarding of scarce resources. On the contrary, though there were still disputes at the house of Theophilus, the words of Jesus and the work of his Spirit pushed everyone toward selflessness. When food was short, there were always volunteers who said they could go without.

A spirit of togetherness and resiliency began to spread. The believers talked about rebuilding the city and how it could be better than before.

In the city itself, the fire brought out the worst in the criminal elements. A vast underground network of thieves spread like a swarm of locusts, looting and stockpiling stolen goods. Bands of delinquents attacked helpless victims, sometimes killing for a plate of food. The estates of some senators, untouched by the fires, were pillaged by gangs who knew that Rome’s police force was otherwise occupied.

Nero tried hard to rally his subjects. Each day in the Acta Diurna, he published details about his plans to rebuild. He set up a relief fund and required all the provinces to contribute. He enlisted prisoners from Rome and surrounding cities to clear out the rubble. He announced a new style of architecture. When Rome was rebuilt, its streets would be laid out in straight geometric patterns. Streets would be wide, and there would be restrictions on the height of private buildings. Apartment owners would be required to provide courtyards for their properties and erect colonnaded porches to serve as platforms from which fires could be fought. Lower floors of buildings had to be constructed of stone or other material impervious to fire. Water from the city aqueducts would be available at the courtyards of every new apartment building.

Rome would be rebuilt better and more elegant than before. The slums would give way to architectural wonders. Rome would be transformed —a phoenix rising from the ashes. Nero’s palace would be the centerpiece, the Domus Aurea, a great golden house that would span three hundred acres. Nero would forever be proclaimed as the father of the new Rome.

Perhaps, Theophilus thought, Rome’s great fire had sobered the emperor and focused his attention on running the empire. The believers at Theophilus’s house made it a point to pray for Nero each day during their worship time. Rome was at a crossroads. Maybe the great fire could melt the emperor’s hedonistic heart.

If nothing else, it had already galvanized the nascent group of believers, who began, for the first time, to refer to themselves as Christians.