25b - For Love of the Gentiles

After an absence of some months in the Greek cities where he’d gone to preach the baptism of John, Apollos returned to Ephesus. The next day, he and Paul met in Priscilla’s home. It seemed to Paul that everywhere he went in Ephesus, all he heard was Apollos this and Apollos that. Everyone, it seemed, talked about how wonderful this man was who had done so much to prepare the soil for Messiah. Not that Paul was jealous. He was fully aware of his own limitations. God had not gifted him with soft winning goodness, graciousness of speech, or warmth that characterized others. But he knew in his heart that whatever gifts God had given him, he used fully for the lord.

Paul saw before him a towering, handsome figure, with large, lustrous eyes, a high forehead, and a serene face. He gave the impression of a man just anointed. His hair and beard were carefully groomed, his lips, full but delicately chiseled, closed firmly, as if to conceal a secret. He was as careful in his dress as he was in the care of his body. The folds of his outer garment lay on him as if arranged for effect by a skillful slave. Apollos obviously had the same regard for appearance as the learned of Israel. The colored shift under his outer garment was of fine Sidonian linen. So was his wide girdle, which proclaimed him the scion of a wealthy and distinguished family. His sandals were new and fitted closely over his feet. And as he was perfect in appearance, so he was gracious and correct in his speech. Every sentence was carefully formed. His quotes were flawless, and he spoke in the charming accent of the Alexandrians.

And yet, Paul saw that something was missing. For all his grace and balance of external appearance and manner, he did not have the look of a man at peace. He didn’t have the through and through serenity Paul remembered in his young friend Barnabas. Yes, the young man of Alexandria was faultless; but the harmony of the spirit was not in him.

Paul sat opposite the elegant Alexandrian, his clothes formless, and his face and body looking as tattered as his robe. Years of dangers, fasts, and scourging had left their mark on Paul. His flesh was hard, his bones edged.

The two were alone, for Priscilla had tactfully arranged that no one witness their first encounter. There was a small table between them that contained a number of parchment scrolls. Priscilla had also placed a number of braziers with sweet-smelling spices, knowing of the gracious custom of Judea, so that the two teachers might be sustained and heartened in their sacred discourse by the smoke of incense.

Paul knew that Apollos had allowed Priscilla to talk him into being baptized in the name of Jesus Christ. But it seemed to Paul that the second baptism was rather weak, and that his heart was still steeped in John’s baptism. Ultimately, he hadn’t found the fulfillment of John’s promise, but still waited uncertainly for a true advent.

Paul listened patiently – no light task for him – while Apollos explained his doctrine of the Logos, which he’d learned from Philo in the academy of Alexandria. Like every educated Jew of the time, Paul was well acquainted with Philo’s philosophy. His influence among Hellenized Jews was profound. His ideas were carried into every part of the Diaspora, and many Jews found his doctrines to be a bulwark against paganism. In their view, the Jews of Jerusalem were stuck in a very narrow rut. For them there was but a single law that could be summed up simply. Whatever was good was to be found among the Jews, and whatever was bad was to be found among the Gentiles. But the Jews scattered throughout the Diaspora saw this as narrow-mindedness. There were Gentiles who were gentle and pure, and thought about the problems of good and evil no less than the Jews did. There were some who believed in the soul and accepted the principle of its immortality. Their worship was expressed in the adoration of beauty, and they strove to unite themselves with God through the harmony of their gods.

Paul, too, had once been interested in Philo’s system. But that was a long time ago, before he’d resolved the Logos in Christ. It was to Christ that he now ascribed all the universal attributes that made up the universe as such. And when Apollos started to expand on the idea of the Logos as the first Son of God, and of Wisdom as the second Son of God, Paul could contain himself no longer.

“God has no first and second sons. There is one, and only one, who may be called the Son of God, and of whom God said, ‘This day have I begotten you.’ And that Son is not the Logos, and not the order of the world, and not wisdom, for these things are only attributes. God’s will is justice, as our prophets have taught, and justification is to be found only in the Christ of righteousness, whom our prophets also foretold.”

Apollos was stunned by the vehemence of Paul’s outburst. He wasn’t used to being talked to this way. He believed in the ancient Jewish saying, ‘And the words of the wise are listened to with pleasure.’

But Paul wasn’t interested in conducting a philosophic discussion. He was a man with a mission. Christ was not a thesis, or a subject for intellectual discussion. Christ was the stark reality of the world, which it was Paul’s mission to unveil. He didn’t even notice the astonishment on Apollos’ face. He spoke as though he were not confronting Apollos, but the whole world of learned and subtle philosophers, to whom he was now bringing Christ as their one hope and salvation.

But Apollos, brought up in learning and right conduct, mastered himself and showed no impatience. He knew anger was a thing of evil. The philosopher doesn’t yield to passion. Therefore he curbed his tongue, and listened attentively, while the words poured forth like a torrent from Paul’s lips.

“Righteousness,” said Paul, passionately, “is the sum of all these things, logic, wisdom, beauty, goodness, even the law. The Law of Moses is just a part of righteousness. For all it encompasses, the law cannot embrace everything, and therefore the law must omit part of life.

“Now this being so, God concentrated every aspect and extension of righteousness in a single instrument. And that instrument is the Christ of righteousness, Jesus. No matter what circumstance you find yourself in, you must accept Christ as the standard of righteousness. He is not the ordered system of the world. That system is delusion and a snare and a deception. It’s an empty cistern. You go to it thirsty and come away thirsty. Christ is a flood of living waters.

“Therefore, Apollos, if you want to bring the Logos, beauty, goodness, law, wisdom to the world, you have only to bring Christ, in his oneness. He is the all in all. And since Christ is righteousness, all who believe in him are dedicated and obligated to righteousness. They are quit of the law, but they are bound to righteousness.”

Apollos listened quietly, and when Paul was done, he asked, “If, indeed, Christ is righteousness, and that little thing called law has been abrogated in the presence of the great thing called righteousness, tell me, I pray, what has become of sin?”

Paul closed his eyes and thought awhile. Then he answered in all humility, “Sin is heritage, a part of the blood. Every drop flowing in my veins is heavy with sin, which I inherited with the blood of the first man, Adam. For it’s written, ‘The intent of the thoughts of man’s heart is sin, all his days.’

“Before Adam’s sin, the world was pure as God had conceived it. Righteousness was spread across the world like dew on the fields. An eternal festival it was, of blossom and greenness. Peace was poured out on all creation. ‘God saw that it was good.’

“Now for good, think righteous. The earth grew no weeds. The rose blossomed with no thorns. Every cloud carried only as much water as was needed. And man was the chosen and elect of creation. His daily life was a song of praise to the Creator.

“But Adam brought in sin and passed it down to us. Sin became our second nature. It sleeps in us like a wild beast, waiting to suddenly attack us.”

Paul became visibly shaken as he suddenly cried out, “A thorn sticks in my flesh. Oh, who will save me from myself, if not you, lord?”

He tried to stop himself, but the words came tumbling out, “God took pity on his creation. He saw men drowning, unable to save themselves. He remembered the promise He made to our ancestors, and He took His only Son, Whom He’d kept at His side since before the creation, to be the salvation of mankind, and He sent him down to earth in the likeness of a man of flesh and blood. And He gave him the nature of one of flesh and blood, that he might wipe away the sins of mankind with his blood. Every drop of blood that flowed from his veins became like a stormy sea. Every pang of agony became a fiery star. Flood and fire cleansed away the sin of the world.

“But God showed His love not to us alone, of the seed of Abraham, he showed His love to everyone who has the blood of man in him. He’s the God of the whole world, and He showed His love to all of us, Jew and Gentile. Even as sin came on all mankind through one, so justification and righteousness shall come on all men through one. This is my faith in Christ. I bring this faith, according to my own knowledge of the gospel, to mankind. For if we are justified by faith, so we are at peace with God through our lord, Jesus Christ.”

Apollos, long accustomed to scholars’ quiet exchange of ideas, listened to the end, while searching for a way to answer his passionate opponent. He debated with himself whether to tell Paul something he had learned while away from Ephesus.

Therefore he rose up, bowed before Paul, and said, “With the permission of the apostle, I would say the following. Your words are as green and fresh as the leaves of the cypress tree planted by the flowing waters. You stand close to the spring of faith, and your roots draw in its waters. But some of those waters have reached me also, who am the poor thorn bush in the wilderness.

“Surely your words are true. Who can deny them? You call Christ ‘Son of God.’ Of Solomon too He said, ‘I shall be to him a father, and he shall be to me a son.’ And he also said, ‘This day I have begotten you.’ And Moses said about all Jews, ‘You are sons to the Lord your God.’ Likewise our sages have used the phrase, ‘Sons of the Eternal.’

“Now if all the sons of Israel are called sons of God, so too would Christ be so called. The Wisdom of Solomon also says, ‘The Son of God, he is righteous.’ And the righteous man is the atonement for his generation. For who are we who are of flesh and blood? We are like a ship that rides through the sea and leaves not a trace behind. We are like the birds that fly through the air, and after they pass no one can tell the place of their passing. So we too pass and there is no trace of our passage on earth. The just man stands between the Eternal and us; he takes on himself the sins of his generation. Christ died for our sins, even as it is written . . .”

By this time Paul was so weary of quotation after quotation, verse after verse, and he was so sick of this man’s calm elegance of speech and diction more fitted for public display than for intimate conversation, that he broke in vehemently.

“Apollos, you quote many verses like pouring out peas from a sack. Are we concerned here with a king, or with a righteous man? I speak of the Son, the one and only Son, who was with God in heaven. I speak of Christ who was sent down to earth to help mankind. I talk about him who died in torment, that his blood might redeem the sin of all mankind and that man might be restored to the paradise that was his before the sin of Adam. Now why do you try to confuse me with sweet speech?”

Apollos stared, and then answered. But this time he spoke slowly and his voice was less elegant and more humble.

“I’ve learned that Christ came to wash away the sin of Adam with his blood and to bring back righteousness. Thus it follows that whoever believes in Christ is purified of the sin of Adam. That is to say, he has been returned to the world of Paradise.

“Now I could believe this if the Christians, the so called believers in Christ, would live like they were in Paradise. But if they live again in sin, then surely the blood of Christ has been shed in vain.

“Now I ask you Paul, do the Christians indeed live in a world of pure goodness? I have just returned from Corinth where I lived among the Christians, the same people you weaned away from idol worship. And what did I see? I saw anger and quarreling, boasting and lying. The rich bring their own rich dishes to the feasts of the lord and the poor bring their own dry bread. They shame the body of the lord with their hoggish eating. And their whoredoms? They do things I haven’t even heard among the heathen. One of them married his father’s wife, and he still lives in the congregation.

“They don’t settle their disputes among themselves in their own courts. They drag the guilty before the courts of the unbelievers, before the Gentile judges.

“And who do they listen to? They listen to and believe whoever has the last word. Some say they belong to the apostle Peter. Some even made me an apostle.

“Where is the righteousness God planted in the congregation of believers through Christ? Open your eyes, Paul, and look around! Sin has risen like a flood and overwhelms them. Christ must be crucified daily for his blood to cope with the floods of sin. His blood must flow without ceasing to cover unceasing sins.”

After a speechless moment, Apollos made a helpless gesture, and continued, “You’ve placed the greatest of all obligations on the Christians, but if the Christians don’t honor the obligation, the blood of Christ has been shed in vain, and your words are like the wind blown into a ventless ram’s horn, from which no sound issues.”

Paul sat bowed, as if a hammer were raining its blows on his head. He seemed to be shrinking, like he wanted to disappear into the earth. His face was yellow, his mouth distorted with pain. He felt responsible for the sins of the Corinthians.

He’d heard rumors about the conduct of the Corinthians, and Stephanus had written to him with various questions people had been asking. But Apollos’ little speech really hammered it home. Paul felt that he’d abandoned them in their need.

In a broken voice, he answered, “Brother Apollos! Didn’t the Jews sin before the giving of the law at Sinai? Even while Moses was on Sinai, they made the golden calf. Many times God had a mind to destroy them, but Moses intervened, and prayed for them. He offered himself as an atonement for the sins of the people. That love for the Jews that was so strong in Moses must be poured out on all the Gentiles who are drawn into the faith of Christ. I’ve put all my trust in him. Jesus Christ, I said, would lead the hosts of the Gentiles out of the wilderness of sin and uncleanness with his love.

“And we must learn one more thing from Moses, brother Apollos. We must learn patience. Therefore, I ask that you help me in the love of Christ. You are learned, your heart is filled with knowledge, and your mouth pours forth sweet speech. Come, then, help me to spread the love of Christ, so that it may fall like dew on the withered field of the Gentiles.”