This week I've been living in a palace yes most of you who know me well presumed I had in my normal dyslexic manner written palace but meant place. NO. I was invited to leave my palace rooms ( I will explain when i see you) to be guided to 500 feet below my bedroom. The entrance to this house visit is not unlike the entrance to our church cellar. Unmarked, dark, uninviting, this house gets worse as I make my way through it. Dark, dirty, ill kept. Unfinished and confusing. That is until David begins to tell its story and it's unfolding possibilities into context. I will not go into the fine detail I could not do it justice. Many scholars believe this dirty complex under my bedroom could be the house St Paul was keep under house arrest (Acts 28:30-30) and where he was taken from to be executed by the Roman authorities.
The photo you see is they believe to be a blocked up window that looked over the via del Corso (Broadway) he could have watched returning Roman armies parade past this window.
Under guard and at times supported by visitors he wrote, baptised and shared his faith. Every outside indication was that his foolish Good News would seep into the ground with the other Christian blood, and never be heard of again.
Paul was not stupid or sheltered from the culture he whispered his Good News into. He shaped, in language the mystery of the resurrection using the everyday life before him, maybe through this window. As I stare at this blocked window I am reminded St Paul and his brothers and sisters proclaimed the life death and resurrection of Jesus into this city Rome. Rome a city run by a mad god, Rome a city with a fully functioning killing machien, Rome sophisticated and cultured.
When I go home I hope I remember to look out of my widow of opportunity and ask "against all odds how will I share the good news of Jesus?" Knowing this story should have seeped into the soil lost for ever in Rome.
What will is see out of my window?
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