Walt Pilcher 1 Pontesbury Place Greensboro, NC 27408 336-282-7034 waltpilcher@att.net 1,756 words Downstairs at Cornelius House This is a strange week, and today is the strangest. For me it started Tuesday afternoon when my boss, Cornelius, ran downstairs and ordered one of his soldiers to take me and another servant and hurry off to Joppa to fetch a man named Simon Peter. I wanted to believe him when he said an angel told him to send for Peter, as weird as that sounds. About the angel, I mean. It had to be true, though, because Cornelius seemed pretty shaken up over it, and I don t think he would have made it up. Even so, it was surprising. Preposterous even, if you think about it. Nothing like that has ever happened here, or anywhere else I know of. And why Peter? Cornelius had never met him, and I d heard he was controversial. The household was in an uproar. Cornelius is a Roman centurion here in Caesarea, and I ve been working for him a long time. I do odd jobs and run personal errands for him, but my main responsibility, and the one I like most, is keeping his uniforms and armor clean and ready to go. It means I get to spend time with him, and I ve gotten to know him a little better than most of the other servants. Cornelius tells some great stories. 1
He can be a hard taskmaster, being a commander of soldiers and all. Usually he s imperturbable, like a rock, and it upset me to see him so agitated. But he s a good man. He gives to the poor, and he treats his servants and the soldiers under him with the same respect he shows his family. He and his family even pray to God, although I don t understand why. I pray too, even if most of the time I just pretend to so I won t get in trouble, but I know for sure God doesn t answer my prayers, much less send me angels. Of course, I m not part of the family, so maybe that s why God doesn t hear me. Even so, while I m not privy to all their thoughts and why they do certain things, this is probably the closest I ll ever come to having a real family of my own, so I am content. I had never been to Joppa. I ve never really been away from Caesarea. After all, it s the eastern capital of the Roman Empire. It s a big seaport city in a major farming area, with important people coming and going all the time. It has a spectacular harbor, an amphitheater, and lots of other impressive sites built by the Greeks and Romans and now overseen by Herod the Great. I have no wish to be anywhere else. Joppa is 40 miles south along the coast road. That s about a 14 hour walk, not counting time for meals and rest stops and getting a few hours sleep on the way. I wasn t keen on going, but orders are orders, and I couldn t think of any excuse to beg off. We left before dinner, ate on the road, spent a short night at an inn, and got to Joppa Wednesday afternoon. I say walk because that s what the other servant and I did. The soldier, of course, rode a horse. At least the horse carried our baggage, what little there was of it, which made the walking easier. Plus, it s good to have a military escort on a dark, lonely road! I sensed the soldier s impatience at having to ride his mare at a snail s pace so the rest of us could keep up (and I imagine the horse was even more put out about it), but he never tried to 2
hurry us along, probably mindful of Cornelius displeasure if we complained. Of course, the horse herself provided reason enough not to fall behind, if you know what I mean. There wasn t a lot to see along the road except some nice views of the ocean. A steady breeze kept us reasonably comfortable as we walked in the heat of the day. After we got to Joppa it wasn t easy to find Simon Peter. According to Cornelius, he was staying by the sea at the house of another man named Simon. There are lots of people named Simon, and more than one living near the beach, so we had to ask around to narrow it down to the one who was a tanner. If I hadn t been so road-weary, I might have enjoyed our unplanned sightseeing tour of the town, but to tell the truth, compared to Caesarea Joppa wasn t much. The name means beautiful, and I guess it is pretty enough, and I m told there is a lot of history there, same as Caesarea, but I wasn t impressed even though I admit it was interesting to see a new place. It seems like all the good history that s going to happen in the world has already happened, but I sometimes wonder what it would be like to watch it in the making. I doubt I ll ever get the chance. When we finally found Peter, we got another surprise. He claimed he already knew we wanted him to go somewhere with us because the Spirit of God had told him! I don t know what to make of all these messages from God! First an angel talks to Cornelius, and then a Spirit tells Peter we re looking for him. The Jews say God occasionally talked to a few high ranking people, mostly prophets and kings, hundreds of years ago but now twice in as many days, and to fairly ordinary folks? I expected to sleep outside, but Peter invited all three of us in, and we spent the evening getting acquainted with him and some of his friends. They seemed nice enough, for Jews 3
anyway. They treated me like I was one of them instead of just a servant. I m not used to that, and I m not sure why they did it. Early Thursday morning we left on the return trip and again spent the night on the road. Peter brought a few of his friends along, and it was fascinating to hear to them talk. Especially Peter! His friends couldn t get a word in edgewise most of the time, and that night they had to shut him up so we could all get some sleep. Mostly they talked about some bizarre dream of Peter s where God (again!) told him he could eat almost anything he wanted to, and about a man named Jesus who died but who Peter says is still alive. They hadn t been drinking as far as I could tell. I ve always heard Jesus came only to save the Jews. I don t care one way or the other about that because most Jews don t care about me, somebody they sneeringly call a Gentile, whatever that means. Anybody who s not Jewish, I guess. They act so superior and look down their noses at me. I don t know why Cornelius is so fond of them, since he s a Gentile too. To tell you the truth, I m annoyed with God that He would favor the Jews, if in fact He does. We got back to Caesarea a little while ago and found the house full of Cornelius relatives and friends, who must have begun arriving early this morning. The soldier ushered Peter into the house, and I could hardly believe it when Cornelius, of all people, knelt down in front of Peter at the doorway, like he was worshipping him or something. Peter said, Get up. Don t do that. I m just a man myself. What was that all about? I was curious if there were any more visitations from angels, God, or spirits while we were gone, and apparently there weren t. I didn t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. 4
Well, after walking more than 80 miles in three days, you can believe I m tired and need to wash up and get some rest, and I know Cornelius would excuse me, but somehow I just want to stay and see what happens next! And now Peter, who it turns out is one of the really important Jews if I ve heard correctly, is right here at Cornelius own house of all places, going on about Jesus, who apparently Peter thinks is even more important than he is. And I guess he would be, if he healed sick people and forgives the sins of those who follow him, as Peter claims. It s beyond me, but I know one thing: Peter is sharing with all of us as if he thinks we re important too and worthy of his time. Not just Cornelius and his family and friends, but the servants as well. And he s actually in the house, a place other Jews would say is unworthy and unclean (the nerve!), but Peter says God told him he should no longer call anyone impure or unclean, so something is definitely up! I must say, too, Jesus is very different from anyone I ve ever heard of. First of all, he seems genuinely to like everybody, no matter who they are or what their background is. That makes me feel good inside, as if maybe God really cares about me too, not only the Jews. If more people were like Jesus, or even like Peter, the world would be a better place. I wish I could have met Jesus sometime. I feel like I should be doing something about what I m hearing, but I don t know what it is. Peter is still speaking non-stop, and... Whoa! I m starting to feel weird. It s not really a bad feeling, just... different. And why am I talking funny all of a sudden? It s like a foreign language. Now everybody s doing it, and it s many different languages, although some of it sounds like gibberish. Peter s friends look very surprised. They re saying nothing like this has 5
ever happened before the Spirit of God falling on Gentiles! But it doesn t seem to be bothering Peter. He looks like he s been expecting it. Hey, suddenly Peter is starting to make sense. If what he says is true, it s the best news I ve ever heard. I think I m beginning to believe it! Oops, now my legs are all rubbery and I m having trouble staying on my feet. I know I m tired, but I m not that tired. Is this how it feels to be touched by the Spirit? I like it! (For the rest of the story, read Acts 10 Acts 11:18.) 6