Chapter 2 - Priscilla – New Beginnings
...I was mesmerised by their song... the obvious joy in it was contagious and, despite my fear, I felt an echo of their joy growing in my heart...
Now there were staying in Jerusalem God-fearing Jews from every nation under heaven. When they heard this sound, a crowd came together in bewilderment, because each one heard their own language being spoken. Utterly amazed, they asked: “Aren’t all these who are speaking Galileans? Then how is it that each of us hears them in our native language? Parthians, Medes and Elamites; residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya near Cyrene; visitors from Rome (both Jews and converts to Judaism); Cretans and Arabs—we hear them declaring the wonders of God in our own tongues!” Amazed and perplexed, they asked one another, “What does this mean?” (Acts 2:5-12)
All scripture quotations taken from
The Holy Bible, New International Version® NIV®
Copyright © 1973 1978 1984 2011 by Biblica, Inc. TM
Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
I remember that we were late! Those of you who know me won't be surprised that I remember that detail, as I'm very particular about being on time... and those of you who know Aquilla will be amazed that I put up with his levels of disorganisation and general lateness! On that occasion we weren't just a little bit late, we were over a week late! So, I can remember being agitated by our lateness... but... but mainly I remember that I was nervous and frightened.
I was 17 years old and had only been married a few months. I'd never travelled that far from Rome before... in fact I'd never even left the mainland in my life. It was the first time I'd travelled by boat and been seasick for days. We'd been caught in three unseasonal storms, and I'd been sure we would die every time! And no, before Aquilla says anything, they weren't ‘little squalls’... they were severe storms! Even the sailors had looked frightened.
It was only as we finally pulled into port in Joppa that my fear subsided. The relief that the sea journey was over was quickly replaced with my familiar anxiety and nervousness as I remembered how far I was from home.
‘We're late,’ I snapped at Aquilla, ‘a week late!’
‘That's hardly my fault, this time.’ Aquilla laughed. He put his arm around my shoulder, 'All will be well. You’ve met Mordechai, and you will love his wife, Junia.’ Although we'd only been married a short while, he could already read my moods, he knew I was nervous about meeting his cousin’s wife. ‘And when we get to Jerusalem...’ He trailed off with a faraway look in his eyes.
‘I will be ”awe struck and know that it will all have been worth it.”’ I mimicked his enthusiasm when he spoke of the temple in Jerusalem.
We set off on the road to Jerusalem, journeying with about a dozen other pilgrims and various traders.
We stopped over in Lydda the first night and we pushed on the next day, making Emmaus as the light began to fade and the Sabbath started. The original plan had been to get to Jerusalem a few days before Pentecost (or the festival of Shavuot as the Jews called it) so that Aquilla could show me around the city and the temple before the big celebration. So, it was frustrating to be so close to Jerusalem and be unable to press on, but the Sabbath laws forbade walking that sort of distance.
In the short time since I'd converted to Judaism, I'd begun to appreciate their commitment to honouring that day of rest. I’d been fascinated by the God of the Jews for years and had occasionally flirted with taking a Sabbath. But my husband took it seriously, so in the three months since our marriage we’d set aside that day each week, and it had been a real blessing.
This time it was a double blessing, as we spent the Sabbath in Emmaus with Aqullia's cousin, Mordechai (or Motti as he was affectionately known). I'd met Motti a few years before, when he'd visited Rome on a trading trip, but never met his wife, Junia. Like me, Junia had converted to Judaism when she married Motti, so we had an instant connection. She was originally from Corinth and, although she was 10 years older than me, she made me very welcome. In no time we were talking and laughing like we were sisters, and my anxiety of being so far from home drained away.
Aquilla had Jewish parents, but he’d grown up in Rome. He’d visited Jerusalem twice before and he loved the city. His eyes always lit up when he described the temple to me, and it was the same with Motti and Junia. They talked about how enormous it was; the dazzling way that the sunlight reflected off the white and gold of the Holy of Holies; the psalms that they would sing as they walked up the hill to the city gates; the sound of the shofar calling people to prayer; the intensity of the emotions they experienced when they joined in the worship... everything they said made me all the more eager to get there.
On that first day of the week, we all got up whilst it was still dark, and when we started out you could still make out a few of the brighter stars in the western sky. We headed east towards Jerusalem and the light crept over the hills ahead of us as the sun slowly rose. Jerusalem is on a hill that you can see from miles away, and when the edge of the sun cleared the top of the Mount of Olives, it reflected off the temple... a bright beacon calling us onward.
The temple is built on the highest point of the city, and the Holy of Holies towered above the city walls As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the way it reflected off the white and gold of the Holy of Holies was breathtaking. I broke off my conversation with Junia and stopped for a moment to take it in.
‘I told you it was beautiful.’ Junia smiled, enjoying the view herself. ‘Just wait until you see it up close. Come on, we're still about an hour away.’
Aquilla and Motti continued walking, and we quickened our steps until we caught up with them again.
The roads were busy with many other pilgrims making their way to Jerusalem from Emmaus and the other towns and villages around Jerusalem, and as the sky brightened you could see long trails of dust being kicked off the roads that converged on the city.
We were making good time until we got to the Joppa gate. There was a huge crowd gathered there and we learned that a cart had overturned in the gateway slowing the rate at which people could get through. In frustration at the delay, hundreds of people were diverting north towards another gate into the city.
‘This way,’ said Motti gesturing off the road. ‘The fish gate will be just as congested with all these extra people. This path links into the road to the south and we’ll get in quicker if we use the Essene gate. That will be less busy.’
It was quieter, but there was still a short delay and we were still hurriedly walking through the streets of the Essene quarter when we heard the shofar blow to signal the start of the procession in the temple.
‘Come on.’ said Motti, picking up the pace, ‘If we hurry we’ll not miss much.’
Along with other pilgrims who were late, we were pushing our way through the busy streets of Jerusalem when we heard a very different sound above the noise of the crowds.
It started low and deep… so low that we felt it rather than heard it. Immediately everyone stopped in their tracks, startled.
The atmosphere felt charged, like it does before a thunderstorm, but there were no clouds in the sky. The sound grew to a deep roar, like a powerful wind, but there was no movement in the air.
I looked around, but couldn’t make out where it was coming from. ‘There!’ Junia pointed, shouting to be heard above the noise, ‘It's coming from that way!’
Curious, we moved in that direction and many other people followed us. We rounded a corner onto a main road and the sound grew even louder. The noise was coming from a building just a short way down the road from where we were. A crowd was gathering in the road outside the building, and Motti and Aquilla began to move towards it.
‘Be careful!’ I blurted out. I felt drawn to the source of the noise but was terrified at the same time. ‘What is it?’
‘I don't know!’ Aquilla shook his head. Even though he was shouting, I could only make out what he said by reading his lips. He put his hand on my arm to reassure me. ‘But I want to find out!’
Motti didn’t look so sure, but Junia gave him a look and nodded to Aquilla, ‘Us too!’
Together, we cautiously moved forward to join the growing crowd on the road next to the building.
As we got closer it became clear that the noise was coming from a window on the first floor. My fear and fascination grew in equal measure... but I must confess that the fear was stronger. I was in a foreign city far from home, surrounded by a large and growing crowd of strangers, and was slowly walking towards an unearthly sound. I was trembling and thought my legs were going to give way when Junia took my hand and squeezed it. I grabbed her arm to steady myself and held on tight.
As we got closer I could see that everyone in the crowd was staring at a window on the first floor of the building, their faces reflecting the same mixture of emotions that I was feeling. Just as we reached them there were gasps and shrieks from the crowd. You couldn't hear them over the roaring sound, but you could see the expressions on their faces.
I followed their gaze to the window and shrieked as well, ‘Fire!’ The crowd quickly drew back and everyone started running. In a city like Jerusalem, with the buildings so close together, a fire would spread rapidly... and there was no telling which direction it would go.
Aquilla grabbed my arm to stop me, ‘Look!’ he shouted near my ear, pointing back at the latest cause of a string of fears that had plagued me since leaving Rome.
I tried to pull away from him, then I glanced back at the window and froze. The light was flickering like fire, but mixed in with the yellows that you'd expect in a flame, were blues and greens... the sort of coloured flames I'd seen created by magicians at shows in Rome. And when I’d paused long enough to take that in, I noticed that there was none of the heat or smoke you'd get with a normal fire.
At that moment the constant noise that had been assailing our ears suddenly stopped. The return of our hearing was disorientating, and people stopped running to look back at the building. The flickering light intensified in its brightness, and we heard a new sound coming from that upper room... the sound of many voices singing and shouting.
To begin with, it was unintelligible. I couldn't make out what they were shouting, but the voices were clearly joyful... obviously not screaming in pain from being burnt alive! Then, I began to make out the odd word or phrase and it became clear that they were singing praises to God. Then, all of a sudden, it was as if the voices were all singing together in unison. I say, “as if”, because I could still hear the noise of many voices speaking in strange languages, but that sound faded into the background and this joyful chorus of voices grew stronger and louder. But the most bizarre thing about it was that they were singing in Latin! Not just in Latin, but with an East Roman accent... the district I grew up in! My jaw dropped, I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
The hundreds of people who moments before were fleeing in terror slowly walked back towards the building. We didn't speak, but the four of us moved with them, amazed by all we were seeing and hearing.
I was mesmerised by their song... the obvious joy in it was contagious and, despite my fear, I felt an echo of their joy growing in my heart.
I didn’t want to break the spell, but I tore my eyes away and turned to look at Junia, ‘Is this what it’s like when people worship in the temple?’ I asked breathlessly, ‘No wonder you all long to go there.’
Junia was standing with her mouth wide open, a look of total awe on her face ‘What?’ she asked, never taking her eyes off the window, ‘err... No. Nothing at all like this. Nothing with this intensity of emotion.’ She paused, shook her head and smiled ‘And never singing in Greek!
‘Greek?’ I hesitated, listening again to be sure, ‘It's not Greek, they're singing in Latin.’
‘What do you mean?’ Motti joined the conversation, he was grinning from ear to ear, ‘they’re singing in Aramaic. And they are singing about the promise of the Father!’ He laughed
Aquilla looked nonplussed, ‘I... I don't hear anything intelligible.’ He shook his head slowly, ‘It just sounds like gibberish.’
As he spoke, the singing stopped and I immediately felt bereft. I’d never experienced anything like it, and I ached to know that feeling again.
I looked back at the window and saw a man standing there, looking out over the people gathered below. He turned to speak with someone and moved aside as another man came into view. I later learnt that this was the Apostle Peter.
Peter stumbled slightly as he stepped in front of the window, prompting a man near me to shout in Aramaic, ‘They're all drunk!’ This brought a muffled laugh from a few of the people gathered, but most stood in silence all their attention focussed on Peter. I was filled with a longing like I had never known... a longing to understand what we'd just witnessed... a longing to fully share in their joy.
‘We‘re not drunk, it's only 9 o’clock in the morning!’ Peter smiled, his face was radiant, literally shining with joy. ‘Unless you count being drunk on the love of God on this great day’ he laughed and paused before continuing, ‘This is the day that the prophets foretold and that our ancestors have longed for.’
He quoted from the prophet Joel and many other passages in the Hebrew scriptures. I was still so new to the Jewish faith that I didn’t know most of the passages he referred to, but I understood enough. As I'd prepared to convert to Judaism, Rabbi Benjamin (our Rabbi in Rome) had led me through some of the prophets, and set me on a daily programme of reading and reflection with Aquilla. We'd kept this up and I'd grasped what was meant by the ‘promise of the Father'. This had been the core hope that the Jewish people had clung to during centuries of occupation and oppression. The hope that one day God would come in power and put things right, that his spirit would be poured out on all people, young and old, men and women, slaves and free. This would be brought about through the Messiah, God's anointed leader, who would set them free.
Peter opened up a new understanding of this for the hundreds of Jews gathered below that window, explaining that Jesus was that promised Messiah. I didn't fully understand all that Peter said, but I could see his joy being reflected in the faces of the others around me, and when he asked if we wanted to be baptised into the name of Jesus, I joined in with the throng is shouting an enthusiastic, ‘Yes!’
Copyright © 2004 Barry Jackson