25a - For Love of the Gentiles

The more idolatrous and unclean a city was, the closer the Jews huddled together and the more firmly they clung to their quarter. Each person helped to guard his neighbor against infection, and in turn found help for himself. Constant vigilance was the only thing that saved them from extinction.

The Jewish quarter in Ephesus was built on the foundations of ancient ruins on a sandy stretch of land under the shadow of Mount Prion, surrounded by olive and cypress. It consisted of a maze of courts running into each other. As the number of Jews increased, the maze widened and became more involved.

The Jews had long enjoyed the right to religious freedom under a charter granted by Julius Caesar and ratified by subsequent emperors. So they lived a life apart, separated from the spirit of the city, the universal worship of Artemis.

Artemis of Ephesus was one of the most prominent and mysterious goddesses of the ancient world. Apollo himself had sent her down from heaven. She had a sacred, demonic power that inspired a cult of intimate, mysterious rites, the formulas of which were carefully guarded in the “Books of Ephesus.” She’d been worshipped for so long that she was ancient when Alexander the Great bowed before her and offered sacrifice on her altar before he set out to attack Persia. The veil of mystery drawn around her by her guardians and magicians had an extraordinary appeal to Hellenic people, who were thus filled with emotions associated with no other deity. She competed with many gods, not only the dark gods of Asia, but even those of Olympus. Any Gentile who felt the slightest impulse toward faith was attracted by Artemis, and by the mystic aura that surrounded her.

The Jews never worshipped her, of course, but they didn’t ignore her either. Ephesus was a city of great commerce and most of its Jews were dealers or hand-craftsmen. Some of them made copies of the “mystery books”, adding formulas of their own, while some sold amulets and sacred medicines. The attraction of such a tremendous market was too much for them to ignore.

The rabbis bitterly opposed this traffic in amulets and other objects of superstitious worship. They were forever protesting, and warning that assisting idolaters was no different than being an idolater. Sometimes they scourged the peddlers of love philters and magic manuscripts, and occasionally even excommunicated a few, a dread punishment in those days. But they persisted in the traffic anyway.

“What can I do?” said one man. “I’ve a wife and children to feed. Let them find me another livelihood, and I’ll gladly practice it. Do they think I like this abomination?”


When Paul left Aquila and Priscilla in Ephesus to prepare the field for him, they made their new home and set up their little factory in one of the Jewish courtyards. The home consisted of four wooden walls in a corner of a court, covered with sheets of goat’s haircloth. This frail booth, for it was hardly more than that, became a gathering place for those Aquila and Priscilla were attempting to convert to the faith. A traveler could find rest and a spoonful of warm food, so that both body and soul were ministered to.

When Paul arrived in Ephesus, he found a company of men and women in Priscilla’s care who were not yet convinced that Messiah had come. They were still under the influence of John the Baptist, and were preparing themselves for his coming. This was not peculiar to Ephesus. There were “Brotherhoods of Messiah” in many cities whose members had accepted John’s baptism and who lived in piety and separation from the world, much like the Essenes, praying, fasting, and keeping their lives pure.

The “Brotherhood” in Ephesus may have been stronger because of a certain Jew from Alexandria with the Greek name of Apollos, a strong and gifted speaker who had strengthened the effect of John’s teaching there. Aquila and Priscilla were able to convince him that the Messiah foretold by John had already come, and Apollos received baptism in Jesus’ name. He then left Ephesus and went to Achaia to preach. Some of his followers, however, twelve in all, were still convinced that Messiah had not yet come, and for the time being they contented themselves with John’s baptism.

Paul gathered these men in Priscilla’s little house and talked to them. He told them that their baptism was in vain, their fasting and purifying was in vain, and all of their preparations were in vain. If they did not believe in Jesus and be baptized in his name, all these other things were worthless.


The following Sabbath, a crowd of Jews assembled in front of the synagogue, a building surrounded by Ionian columns like all structures of its kind in the city. Paul had just delivered a sermon on the subject of Messiah, and the people were engaged in lively discussion about it rather than going home. These were people who’d listened much to Apollos when he was there, and they loved him and his words. So as they talked about that morning’s sermon, they couldn’t help but compare it and the speaker with Apollos and his unforgettable messages.

The general consensus was that Paul was not a bad speaker, for he had power, and was clearly strong in the scriptures. But can one mention him in the same breath with the Alexandrian? Apollos’ words were like a stream of pearls. Ah, what a voice he had when he quoted and interpreted verses. He gave them Messiah as if he were a precious stone put into their hand.

One said, “Well, if people want to believe that Paul’s Messiah is indeed true, well, I won’t stand against them. But what a pity that Paul doesn’t have the honeyed tongue of Apollos. You know, friends, that I’m a lover of fine speech and I’m not ignorant of the books, and I’m by no means unfit to teach children the ways of Jewish learning, as you all know. I know what fine speech is, and I say –“

At this point a sandal maker named Joseph interrupted him. “Now what point is there in comparing the Alexandrian preacher with this man? Sure, Apollos was a great preacher, but that’s all he was. This man’s not a preacher; he’s a messenger. No, no, he is the messenger of Messiah himself, who entrusted him with the gospel, placed his hands on him, and bid him go proclaim the truth. And you know the Holy Spirit lives in anyone on whom Messiah places his hands.

Now Joseph had many children, most of them sick with various diseases. He’d lost a lot of hair over the years over all his disasters, and was now bald. Poverty and sickness had made him a great pietist and believer.

“We’ve all heard of the twelve who have the power. Anyone they touch is healed. So it is with this man. You heard what he did for Abraham the dyer, didn’t you? Abraham’s wife lay sick for a whole year, and this man went into Abraham’s tent, touched the woman with his hand, looked at her and said, ‘Arise!’ And she arose. Ah, that my wife would be healed like that, and my children too, who lie sick without a mother to tend them.”

A silversmith indicated Joseph with his thumb and said to the others, “Apparently our friend Joseph has been a visitor to Aquila and Priscilla’s house.”

“Sure I have,” cried Joseph. “And what of it? It’s a good Jewish home, and anyone who goes there will hear a good Jewish word.”

“Really? And should one also receive baptism at the hands of those two heathen saints, the Gentiles Paul brought? What are their names, Titus and Timothy?”

“May the Jews be as saintly as these two Gentiles!” said Joseph, hotly. “They believe in the one living God of Israel, and in his Prophets, and you call them Gentiles. If they’re Gentiles, well, write me down as a Gentile, too.”

Half laughing and half reproving, another Jew said, “You are well tangled in the net, Joseph.”

“And why shouldn’t he be? A man with a sick wife and sick children believes that the apostle can cure his wife, so that she can cure the children. All the apostle has to do is look at her and call on the name of Jesus Christ.”

“Seriously,” put in another, “he has done it.”

And indeed, he had. Although he didn’t do it often, Paul knew he had the power to heal. He just needed to call on that power, for the cause of Christ, and it would manifest itself. He believed that nothing was impossible for him if it served the faith.

Paul was quick to understand that the Jews of Ephesus were touched with the superstitions of their neighbors and that they were inclined to respect the deeds of the soothsayers and the healers. Therefore he decided that it wouldn’t be enough for him to preach and explain. Philosophy and argument would not convince them. What they needed was a demonstration of power, the overwhelming evidence of deeds. So he decided to destroy the Ephesian goddess with her own weapons.

What Joseph the sandal maker revealed as his belief that Sabbath morning eventually became the belief of countless others. Thousands, who’d never seen or heard of Paul were carried away by a wave of trust. It was said that the touch of his hand, the breath of his mouth, even his clothes, had the power to heal, to drive out evil spirits, and perform all manner of wonders in the name of Jesus.