CHAPTER 91

After three weeks of people crawling all over his house, including at least a dozen who slept in his bedroom, Theophilus needed a respite. His makeshift refugee camp was doing better than most, but it was still a refugee camp. There were people everywhere, unsupervised children running about, broken vases, furniture that couldn’t hold up under the constant barrage.

Theophilus had to keep reminding himself that, compared to others, he was blessed just to have a house still standing. Even so, it came as a relief when a messenger arrived from the household of Seneca, requesting a meeting with Theophilus at Seneca’s country estate. The messenger said it was urgent.

Theophilus saddled one of the family’s three horses and started out just after breakfast. Seneca’s estate was a two-hour ride by horseback, and the journey gave Theophilus plenty of time to think.

Things were getting intense in the city. Theophilus had been there two days earlier, and rumors were running rampant. Stories persisted about men who had kept others from fighting the flames. When challenged, these men had allegedly claimed they were under orders to prevent the fire from going out, though they wouldn’t reveal the source of their orders. Other citizens claimed they had witnessed men running into structures with torches and setting them on fire.

Much of the city’s anger was directed at the emperor. Despite the testimony of thousands who had seen Nero in Antium the night the fire started, a rumor made the rounds that Nero had watched from the rooftop of his palace and played the lyre while Rome burned. Graffiti sprang up all over the unburned sections of the city, labeling Nero as an arsonist and worse. Many citizens believed Nero had ordered the city destroyed in order to create room for his expansive new palace.

When tragedy hits, people need someone to blame. And who could be better than the man in charge?

When Theophilus finally arrived at Seneca’s estate, he was struck by how peaceful things seemed. This far removed from the city, there were no refugees. No smell of smoke. No clothes hanging everywhere, drying out in the sun. No shortage of food or space or fresh water.

Seneca greeted Theophilus warmly, and the two men settled into Seneca’s office. Theophilus noted with dismay how much his mentor had deteriorated since the last time they were together. Seneca’s back was more rounded, his head sticking out from hunched shoulders like a vulture’s. His wrinkles had deepened and he had great bags under his eyes.

After they exchanged pleasantries, Seneca told Theophilus that Nero had sent a messenger inquiring whether Seneca might come out of retirement. Nero needed help raising funds to rebuild the city. Seneca had politely demurred. A few days later, Nero had sent a second messenger. This time, Seneca claimed ill health that rendered him incapable of traveling.

“I haven’t heard back since,” Seneca said.

But that was not the reason he had called Theophilus to his house. There were more urgent matters. Seneca was concerned about the safety of Theophilus and his family.

“According to my sources, Nero has decided that he needs to deflect blame for the fire,” Seneca said. “He has found a convenient target in the followers of the Nazarene. Apparently some of the leaders of that movement have given speeches about a God who judges places like Rome with great fire. After Nero’s Saturnalia celebrations, those leaders claimed that Rome was like the ancient cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, which were consumed by fire from heaven.”

As Seneca spoke, Theophilus felt a dull pain besieging him, a gnawing in the pit of his stomach. Maybe Nero had this fire planned all along. Maybe he had released Paul so he could use that act of mercy as evidence of his impartiality toward followers of the Way. Maybe he was just setting up the Christians to ultimately take the blame.

“Have you heard about such speeches?” Seneca asked.

“Not specifically.”

“In any event, I know you are close to the leaders of this new movement. Your defense of Paul was admirable, but your client was more than a little reckless. If Caesar did not despise the followers of the Way before that trial, he surely did after Paul condemned him.”

“What is Caesar planning?” Theophilus asked.

“I know that Tigellinus has already arrested thirty followers of the Way and put them on the rack. They’ve extracted a list of names from those men, and they’re prepared to arrest everybody on that list and accuse them of arson.” Seneca gave Theophilus a look. The philosopher could convey more with his eyes, weakened and narrowed as they were, than most men could convey with a thousand words. The look forecast what was coming next.

“Your name is on that list, Theophilus.”

Theophilus swallowed with some difficulty, trying without success to keep the fear at bay. “What about my family?”

“Flavia and Mansuetus, too.”

Thoughts of his family consumed Theophilus on the way home. Nero and Tigellinus were ruthless in the best of times. They would be grotesquely sadistic now. Somehow, Theophilus had to protect his wife and only son.

The rack Seneca had referred to was a rectangular wooden frame slightly raised from the ground with a roller at each end. Tigellinus had invented the device. He would chain the victim’s ankles to the roller at one end and his wrists to the roller on the other. Using a handle and ratchet, he would gradually increase the tension on the chains as he interrogated the victim. Eventually, if the victim didn’t cooperate, his or her joints would be dislocated and separated. Muscle fibers would be stretched to the point that they could no longer function, finally snapping with a loud pop.

Theophilus doubted he could withstand such torture. But one thing he knew for certain —he would do whatever it took to spare his wife and son that kind of pain.

By the time he returned to his chaotic house, the things that had bothered him just a day earlier now seemed trivial. He gathered the adults who were staying there and put together a list of known and reputed leaders of the Way. He pulled out the epistle that Paul had written to believers in Rome and worked his way down the list of names Paul had mentioned.

Paul had referenced Priscilla and Aquila as coworkers in Christ Jesus. They had already risked their lives for Paul, according to what he wrote. Theophilus knew they needed to be warned. The same was true for Epenetus, a man whom Paul called the first convert to Christ in the province of Asia and who was now living in Rome. Then there were Andronicus and Junia, Jewish believers who had been imprisoned with Paul and were called “outstanding among the apostles.” The list went on: Ampliatus, Urbanus, Apelles, whose fidelity to Christ had withstood the test. The entire household of Aristobulus was mentioned, together with many others.

The community of believers in Rome was tight-knit, and many of the names were familiar ones. Theophilus and Flavia added others whom they knew personally, including Procula, the widow of Pilate.

Theophilus drafted a letter, and his servants spent the night making copies. Early the next morning, Theophilus and Flavia sent out volunteers with instructions to locate these leaders and invite them to an important meeting. In the letter, Theophilus said he could not yet share the details but assured each of the leaders that it was a matter of life and death. The believers prayed fervently that the leaders would respond.