When Jesus Wept - By Bodie Page 0,15

lover of them cheeses of yours. He wants a wheel in return for his favor.”

I nodded at Samson. “Fetch the sergeant a wheel of the Three Goats, if you please.”

Samson hurried from the shop.

The sergeant was not finished. “Tribune says he never tasted better cheese as from them three milk goats there. Wondrous, he says. Dreams of it on campaign. Then he hears the very goats are not more than a few miles from where he is stationed. A miracle, he says. One wheel provided on every new moon will satisfy his appetite. But you are to quit asking the question about your friend. Consider them all dead and shut up about it, or there won’t be anything he can do to help you.”

Samson returned with the heavy, wax-sealed round of goat cheese. He placed it into the sergeant’s arms. The soldier examined the seal, then peered at the three goats nudging Samson’s legs.

“Aye. That’s it. These are the very milk goats, then? Best cheese in the empire.” He slapped his fist against the cheese. “Hail, Caesar!” The sergeant turned on his heel, mounted his horse, and rode away.

We were all silent, except the goats, who laughed and gently butted Samson’s knees.

“Well, then,” Samson said at last. “That’s that.”

Patrick emerged from behind his curtain. He was on crutches, and his half leg dangled. He shrugged and explained, “They would not want to take a lame man back into service.”

Patrick’s apprentices eyed him with surprise and returned to work.

I clapped Samson on the back. “We must never let on, eh? The three goats who grace the seal of our cheeses are neutered males you raised from kids and could not bear to slaughter.”

“Aye, sir. Wethers, every one. My dear boys never gave a drop of milk for cheese, sir. Nor will they. It would indeed be wondrous and a miracle of biblical proportion. That’s why they smile so.” He scratched their heads affectionately. “Our secret, eh, boys?”

Chapter 7

Porthos continued as our house guest. My sister and I welcomed him and gave no thought to how long he might remain with us. He was a middle-class merchant who sold copper cooking pots in the agora of Athens. He was a gentle bear of a man. Quiet and wearing a crooked smile on his broad face, his father was a Greek, but his Jewish mother had raised Porthos in the faith of Yahweh.

He grew up learning Torah while living in the Greek culture. He told us he often sat near Mars Hill to listen to the philosophers.

“At last I saved enough to make pilgrimage to Jerusalem where the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob made his dwelling place. I made this journey so I could return to Athens and argue with intelligence about the true identity of the Unknown God. And the moment my feet crossed the threshold, I was robbed. Ah. Men are the same everywhere, are they not?”

My household found Porthos pleasant and entertaining company, well spoken and educated in philosophy in the manner of the Greeks.

I invited Samson and Patrick to join Porthos and me on my patio in the cool of the evening. As the stars winked above us, we four men sipped fine wine and spoke of Jews and Gentiles, of things of God and Torah, and of the rumors of Jesus of Nazareth in Galilee.

Porthos told us of the philosophers on Mars Hill. “They seem so high above us, rich and robed, as we merchants sell to the common folks in the marketplace below.” Porthos swept his hand across the horizon. “How many temples to how many gods surround the common folk of Athens? And yet there is one small temple built to the Unknown God, for fear they may have left one out and he become angry. Ha! The Unknown God is the one and only God in heaven and earth … the God I know and worship … the God of Israel.”

Patrick, who was not a Jew, asked, “I hear about the God of Israel every hour of every day as I work. Samson won’t let me forget that the Only True God is Israel’s God. Finally I believe it, though I don’t know why. So, can’t you just go up there and tell those fellows?”

Porthos raised his bushy eyebrows, “Once I tried to join in their discussion. They spoke of politics, gladiators, world government, and the fierce gods of Rome. Roman gods, they deduce, must be more powerful than any others.”

Samson laughed. “How could