26 - One Day in Ephesus

Paul’s doctrine of Christ, formed by his visions and conception of his mission, crystallized in its strange incomprehensibility to traditional Jews, so that it evoked ever-greater dissension. It began as a gospel of hope; it was transformed into a cause of hostility. For what Paul had to say was alien to the very nature and spirit of the Jews, and his words sounded to them like a trumpet call to false worship. Within a few months Paul’s teachings provoked a bitterness of spirit that drove many Jews into a fury against the faith of Christ.

The pattern in Ephesus was similar to what had happened in other cities. Many Jews refused to listen to what Paul had to say, so he started a new congregation, which widened the breach between his followers and the other Jews. He gained a large enough following in Ephesus to rent a schoolhouse, with the right to assemble there at certain hours of the day, when the children’s classes were not in session.

Paul could face this division with the Jews because of his extreme faith. He became “the fool of Christ,” and in the folly of his love, devotion, and surrender, he made a continuous sacrifice of his life. Each day before dawn, while the rest of the world was still asleep, he rose to pray and gather strength. When dawn came he washed his hands, as every pious Jew did, said the morning Shema, ate his frugal breakfast of a small piece of bread and a handful of olives, which he washed down with a cup of water that barely tasted of wine or honey, and went to his place in the workshop of Aquila and Priscilla. And while his feet worked the treadles and the shuttle flew back and forth, his mind was given to the problems of his infant congregations.

On this particular day he was thinking about the flock in Corinth. Sosthenes had arrived from there recently and pretty much confirmed the mournful tidings of Apollos.

He told of a spirit of hatred and envy among the Christians, a spirit of rivalry and hostility. One would say, “I belong to Paul.” And the other would cry, “I belong to Apollos.” Who were Paul and Apollos, Paul asked himself with a groan. “I planted and Apollos watered, but it’s God who sent up the shoot.”

So as he worked at the loom in anguish, he began composing the phrases that would be woven into his letter to the Corinthians.

“Don’t you know that your bodies are the temples of the Holy Spirit, which is within you and which you have from God? You have been bought with a price. Therefore glorify God in your bodies and in your spirit, which are of God.”

So, laboring mechanically, and sharpening the arrows of his phrases, Paul sat until midday when all Ephesians suspend work. When the sun reaches its highest point in the sky, and pours down a torrent of light and heat, each one finds a shelter, or a spot of shadow. Windows are covered with cloth, awnings are laid on frameworks. Some lie in the shelter of the temple columns or the walls of houses. The merchant, the slave, the laborer, man and woman, all rest, and Ephesus dozes in the fiery sunlight.

Only the apostle Paul and his followers are awake and at work. They are gathered in the synagogue of Tyrannus. For Paul takes no midday pause. He eats a frugal midday meal, a salad, a few olives, a spoonful of honey, and in the company of his most intimate followers he goes to the synagogue.

There, in the cool and shadowed interior, his congregation, mostly Jews who haven’t been frightened away by his strange doctrine, sits on the little stone benches. Some have already accepted baptism. There are Ephesians among the listeners, but there are also visitors from nearby towns, merchants most of them, who’ve heard the strange reports of a wonderful message and have come to hear for themselves. They come from Colossae, Laodicea, and Hieropolis, and what they hear they will take with them to their towns along with their merchandise. As they sell the latter they will distribute the former, founding new congregations of believers in the process.

Meanwhile they sit and listen, Arichus of Colossae and Nimphos of Laodicea, among others. They are Jewish faces rapt with attention as Paul talks about the end of days when the trumpet will sound, and the dead will rise from their graves. Christ will come suddenly with the clouds of heaven, like a thief in the night, as Daniel prophesied.

This man, who can say such bitter things against his own flesh and blood, can also bring forth such tenderness and consolation for the suffering of his people. His listeners are frightened and overjoyed at the same time. Their beards bristle with astonishment, and the hairs on their heads stand up. Their hearts melt with terror and hope.

“Ah, what wonderful times we live in! Why are we silent? Come, let us spread the gospel of Christ throughout the world!”

There are Gentiles sitting next to these Jews, men and women with faces of chiseled granite. There is no outward trace of what they are feeling inwardly. Outwardly they seem hard, impenetrable, inaccessible. But in their hearts, there is a mighty struggle. Their pulses beat and their brains are in turmoil. Paul’s words have lodged themselves in their hearts, breaking open the stone of their one-time life. A spring of joy is opening, and the waters of deliverance well up. In their hearts they think, “God has had compassion on the Gentiles. Before we even knew of him, Christ died for our sins, in order to redeem us. Now we enter into a new covenant and become co-heirs of the promise of God with the Jews.”

Only the faces of the women, lined with care and motherly sorrows, show a glimmer of a response. Their eyes drink in the gospel, their lips tremble.

“All are equal in the faith!” cries the apostle.

There are children there as well, even infants and nursing babies. For they’ve heard that the touch of the apostle’s hands, the breath of his mouth, the flutter of his clothes, can bring healing. After he has finished, the women will crowd around him and ask for his blessing on them and theirs. They will touch his sandals, and they will be healed of sickness as well as sin.

As part of his end of days sermon, Paul pours forth his wrath against the cult of the magicians, soothsayers, and idolatrous healers. His fiery words condemn them forever to the deepest pit of hell. He doesn’t speak openly against the goddess Artemis herself. His assault is launched against the whole world of idolatry, against the unclean life of paganism, and against the philosophers and wise men of the Gentiles.

“Because they think they are wise, they have become fools. They’ve exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for a corruptible image, a bird, a beast, a crawling thing. Therefore God has delivered them to the impurity of their passions, so that they debase their bodies, since they have taken it on themselves to worship the creature in the place of the Creator Who is blessed for ever – Amen!”

“God has delivered them to a treacherous understanding. They are filled with all kinds of unrighteousness and evil. They are filled with envy, murder, quarrels, deceit and evil thoughts. They are chatterers, slanderers, enemies of God.

“But God has shown his love for us, in that while we were sinners, Christ died for us.”

Every word speeds to the heart of his listeners like an arrow. They see the ocean of sin about them, in which they’d been sunk. They understand the perversity of the desires they’ve indulged in. They know that their lives have been abandoned of God until this moment. Now the light of hope shines above them. Help is let down for them by the hand of God. The saving rope is the death of Christ, who has suffered for them. And there is not a single one among the listeners, however steeped in the old ways of sin, however reluctant to give an outward sign, who doesn’t soften with longing and hope.

* * * * *

In Ephesus Paul started using a new method for winning souls to Christ– personal contact. Like a beggar he went from house to house. When he heard of anyone inclined to listen, Paul visited him at home, to speak with him alone, face to face.

Sometimes he was led to a dying man, who had expressed the desire to speak with the apostle before his eyes were closed, so that he might hear of the hope beyond the grave in the last moment. So Paul would sit with the dying man, hold his hand and comfort him, saying, “In the faith of Christ death becomes nothing. Death is just the door into the eternal life of Christ. The believer in Christ lives, even in death.”

Sometimes Paul was asked to visit a rich man who wished to enter the faith together with his entire household. The sick, the healthy, the poor and the rich, Paul visited them all, refusing no request, and considering no one too little or unimportant for his ministry. He comforted with words, and he healed with the touch of his hand.


At the end of the day, when a cool wind blows across the city, Paul returns to the humble home of Aquila and Priscilla. There is no more strength in his body. His face is gray, his feet are like stones, and his clothes are tattered and covered with dust. His sandals are falling apart, and his undergarment clings to his flesh.

Although the home remains humble, Aquila having lost his prosperity here in Ephesus, the apostle lacks for nothing. Somehow Aquila and Priscilla find a cruse of oil for Paul. Titus washes his teacher, anoints him and draws a new garment over his body. Refreshed and rested, the apostle repeats the evening Shema and sits down with the household to a frugal supper.

But the day’s work is far from done. There are still delegations to be received. They come to him from the congregations he founded with many questions. Gaius and Aristarchus are here, having recently arrived from Macedonia. They beg Paul to return with them. Paul would love to go to his many dear friends in Philippi, and his conscience still torments him for leaving Thessalonica in its hour of need. He promises them that some day he will surely return to them. But his first attention must be to Corinth.

Having spoken with Sosthenes so recently, Paul is surprised to find that Stephanas has just arrived with a group of the faithful from Corinth. They bring greetings, and a letter. Corinth cries out for Paul to return and restore order. The community is in confusion. There are no leaders capable of answering their questions. For instance, they want to know what to do about meat. The only meat available is what is left over from the sacrifices to the local gods. The Jews have their own butchers and have plenty of kosher meat. But the Gentiles have no butchers of their own, and they must either abstain from meat or eat the sacrificial meat sold by the idolatrous priesthood. But is it OK for Gentile Christians to eat such meat?

They’re also at a loss about the disputes that arise among themselves and that they submit to pagan judges. Their family life, too, stands in need of regulation. They’d like to know if it’s OK for a husband of the faith to live with a wife who isn’t, or whether a woman who has received baptism is allowed to live with a husband who refuses. The congregation is falling apart for lack of authoritative direction.

There are also problems with new Christians who are so exalted by the idea of Christ that they refuse to marry at all. Others will no longer live with their wives after their conversion. They beg for Paul to come and restore order to the community.

So Paul is torn. He can’t go to Corinth, because Macedonia needs him. And he can’t go to Macedonia because the congregation in Ephesus isn’t ready to stand on its’ own feet yet. There are still a number of backsliders here who want it both ways, Christians who secretly practice the worship of the ancient gods, resorting to the soothsayers and the mystic books. All this must be burned out before he leaves. For Ephesus must become an example and center for the whole province. The Jewish merchants of Colossae and Laodicea look to Ephesus for guidance in the faith.

And there’s one other thing. Paul hasn’t told anyone yet, but when his work is finished in Ephesus, Macedonia and Achaia, he plans to go to Jerusalem, fully aware that death may wait for him there. And if he survives Jerusalem, there’s still Rome to visit.

So although he can’t go to Corinth, he can write a letter to answer all their questions, and teach them the way of life in Christ. It’ll be a long letter, a cornerstone on which to build all congregations. For he will provide copies of the letter, not just to the Corinthians, but to the Christians in all the provinces. All will be guided by it.

“By the grace of God given to me, I have laid the foundations like a cunning builder, and others will build on these foundations. But let him who builds be heedful of what he builds, for there shall be no other foundation except Jesus Christ.”

And it’s on this foundation of Jesus Christ that Paul answers all the questions the Corinthians have addressed to him.


Late that night, when the delegations have left and before he lies down on his hard couch, Paul calls over his faithful Titus. The tiny candle burns nearly all night while Paul, tense with the labor of his thoughts, dictates.

“Though I speak to you with the tongues of men and of angels, and I have not love, I am just a tinkling cymbal. And though I should have the gift of prophecy and know all the secrets of knowledge and have faith so that I can move mountains, and I have not love, then I am nothing. And if I should distribute all my worldly goods to the poor and give up my body to destruction, and I have not love, it avails me nothing.

“Love is patient and long-suffering. Love is not envious. Love is not proud and swollen up.

“And now only these three remain, faith, hope, and love, and the greatest of these is love.”


After Paul has dictated the last words of the long letter, he falls back on his couch, exhausted, and sleeps at last.

And even at that hour Priscilla quietly approaches, takes the apostle’s tattered mantle and spreads it on his feet. Then she puts out the flickering lamp, and darkness spreads to the corner where Paul sleeps.

Thus Paul’s day ends, and his night begins.