Day 07 - Pisidian Antioch

Fear, excitement, dread, adventure—these are some of the words that come to our minds when we are confronted with “wild” things. We started day seven outside the old city of Galatia, home of the Galls. According to Marty, the Galls were a tribal, wild [maybe a bit uncivilized] people. As such, Rome was under a constant strain to figure out how to conquer or annex them. 

The area in which we were standing was Pisidian Antioch: “mini-Rome” as it were. The former Roman pro-consul Sergios Paulus was from Antioch, and apparently had come to follow Jesus as a direct result of Paul’s ministry. As we ventured further into the old city, Marty began to explaining some of the responsibility of Sergios, the need for him to pledge allegiance to Caesar as “Lord” and “God,” and the conflict that would inevitably ensue as the Jewish/Christian community tried to figure out what he should do… 

As if that was not enough to chew on, we took off on a major hike after lunch to find a site Marty had been trying to return to for years. Several miles up the mountain—thinking about Sergios and the Jewish/Christian community all the while—we come out at what appears to be the remains of a temple dedicated to MenEskenu. One of the things we know about this group was that they believed in the power of the stars and the zodiac. 

More stars. And more fighting over who had control of the stars.  

But stars are wild. They cannot be tamed. They burn things up (or burn up themselves), and somehow that feels an awful lot like the Galls. 

“The words of him who holds the seven stars in his right hand…” 

There was something driving the ancient people up to the mountain, and maybe building the temple there helped them justify their efforts and their fighting.

But I wonder what is driving me up my mountains; and I wonder what I will see when I get there. I hope it is the right thing; and I hope I see God there… because I have no desire to try to hold his stars. 

It’s possible Sergios Paulus committed himself to the Jewish movement and thus was able to take advantage of the Jewish exemption. Eventually, however, we know that the Gentile Christians turn around and refuse the same hospitality and protection to their Jewish brothers and sisters when they needed it the most. Is this what power does? Does it corrupt us so much that we no longer look out for those who stepped up for us in our time of need? 

“I have this against you: you have abandoned the love you had at first.” 

One thing that has seemed to be common at each of our sites is the presence of a synagogue or church representing a community committed to trying to figure it out, to loving each other well, and standing faithful in the presence of Empire. I wonder… 

What would I do if I was Sergios Paulus? 

What would I do if I lived at the bottom of the mountain and knew what was up there?