THE GOSPEL OF TRAVIS - Chapter Twenty Two

THE ISLAND OF MELITA
Now, there was in those times a man named Saul who came from a city in Asia called Tarsus. As a younger man, he had persecuted many of the followers of Jesus in the time after the Lord’s death and resurrection. He was even present at the martyring of one named Stephen, the first to die for the love of Christ, where Saul did his fellow conspirators the kindness of holding their coats while they performed the brutal execution.

For Saul had been among the chorus of the Pharisees. He followed the old laws and understood the threat that these radical new teachings spoken by the tongue of the Son of God posed to his beliefs. His doggedness, his fervor and his zeal made him an ideal attack dog in the Pharisees’ battle with the upstart followers of the Lord Jesus, and he lead in those early days several forays to find and destroy hidden cells of true believers.

But, at the height of his blood lust, Jesus himself appeared before him on the side of the road to Damascus. So awed was Saul by the apparition that he fell to his knees. Jesus spoke unto him and let him know that he was none too pleased with the whole murdering of many disciples situation.

With a flash of light, Saul was struck blind. Plunged into a waking darkness, he begged the Lord to forgive him, but Jesus commanded him to go into the nearest town to get his attitude adjusted. Saul obeyed, groping his way into town. There, he met a disciple who was greatly distressed to meet him, for Saul had gained a reputation for being a bit of a bloodthirsty lunatic. However, the kindness of God prevailed upon the disciple, who begrudgingly cured his vision and baptized him.

Thus Saul rebranded himself as Paul in another Simon Peter type situation. From then on, instead of prosecuting the fervent believers of Jesus, Paul devoted the remainder of his life to travelling the Greek speaking world, starting new communities of worshipers among the Gentiles and writing many, many letters.

So many letters. Too many, one might say.

The work was hard and Paul took many missteps, but on the whole he found the work rewarding and many a spiritually hungry gentile gratefully devoured the life-giving bread of salvation.

However, his time as a travelling church father came to an end when he returned to Jerusalem to bring the charitable gifts of the western churches to the poor, only shortly thereafter to find himself confronted by his former Pharisee brethren and then thrown into a prison cell.

The Sadducees and the Pharisees would have gladly killed this man, this heretic who had purportedly desecrated the holy temple right there in the most sacred of cities. But Paul had a trick yet to play, for he was a Roman citizen by privilege of his birth and was owed the right to appeal his case directly to Caesar in Rome.
Opting for a free vacation to the Imperial capital and for a postponed execution, Paul chose to take the Roman authorities up on his birthright.

And so Paul sailed towards Rome on a prison ship, whereupon a great and fearsome storm fell upon them and swallowed up the boat only to then spit it back out like so much chewed mastic upon the shores an island called Melitus. There, after curing the leader of the island’s father of dysentery through the power given him by the holy spirit, Paul was allowed to roam the island freely while he waited for the ship repairs to finish.

It was on one such walk when Paul learned of a hermit, another self-professed lover of Christ, who lived in a cave on the far side of the island. With his curiosity piqued and with much time to kill, Paul made his way down the rocky cliff faces towards the hermit’s hideaway.

THE HERMIT
Upon reaching the cave, Paul found a man dressed head to toe in garments fashioned from torn linen and animal hides. He waited for the man to look up from mending a pair of lizard skin socks, but so focused on the task was this man that Paul had to clear his throat to gain his attention.

“Hail, friend,” said Paul. “I understand that a fellow slave of God resides here on this island. Tell me, do you know him?”

“That depends,” said the hermit, setting aside his needle and the sinews he was using for thread. “Did Peter send you, that devious rascal? Or one of the Jameses?”

“I was sent by nobody. Unless you count the weather. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately for me, a great storm shipwrecked us here only a few days ago.”

“Nasty squall that was, too. Frightened away my entire congregation. ‘Frightened’ may not be the right word. Lizards love the rain, so maybe they merely abandoned me. It won’t be for long. They always come back, those lizards, for they don’t have very many other options for religious services. Anyway, yes yes. A follower of Jesus you have found indeed. What is your name?”

“I am Paul,” he said, “called to be an Apostle and sent abroad to teach the gospel of God.”

The hermit stared at him blankly for some time. “Apostle,” he repeated. “I knew the Apostles. I knew each of them. You are no Apostle. There are only twelve Apostles, and you are not one of them.”

“Yes, admittedly, I came to the truth late. For you see, I was called by Jesus himself to be Apostle to the Gentiles.”

The hermit snorted. “Well that’s just great. Isn’t it? Another Apostle. Sure, why not? And it’s some ass I’ve never seen before in my life. No offense to you, Paul. I’m sure you are a fine fellow. But the incessant gate keeping of those fishmen is enough to drive me insane, only for them to then pull a stunt like this.”

“Fishmen?” asked Paul with some confusion.

“Yes, for they all pulled fish from the sea. Well, not all. Thomas never was a fishman. Did he put you up to this?”

“I’m sorry,” apologized Paul, “but who are you?”

“I am Travis,” he answered. “The Thirteenth Apostle.”

Paul betrayed a bewildered look as he began to speak, but Travis waved him off.

“Yes yes yes, you’ve never heard of me before. I know. Believe me, I’ve had this conversation many times and I am sick of it.

“Well, you should come in,” said Travis as he gestured to the cave. “Better to get you inside before the sparrows see you. They’ll be jealous that I’m talking to someone new.”

BREAKING BREAD
After Travis got over the disappointment of learning that Paul had not brought with him any gifts, he begrudgingly agreed to share with the traveller his supper of dried fish and a crust of moldy bread. Paul ate very little, for he worried that the food might accidentally poison him and besides the unsavory smell emanating from Travis was not conducive to good appetite.

“I’d been told that Melitus was a tax haven, you see,” said Travis. “Otherwise I never would have come to this accursed island. Of course the tax situation turned out to be completely untrue. I would have been much better off on Cyprus, except I wore out my welcome there with those ungrateful toads.

“And of course, by ‘toads’ I mean the Cypriot people and also their literal toads, who were also unsympathetic to my ministry.

“But I persist here anyway and have made it my home. I simply buried my fortune where nobody can find it. The islanders think I’m destitute and I do a pretty good job of letting them go on believing so. My reputation keeps away the taxman and other thieves. Here I have the freedom to run my compound as I see fit, with nobody to bother me or to ask me for alimony. Also, fewer people on the island means fewer demons to bedevil me.”

“It must be a lonely life,” said Paul. “But we can rejoice today, for as it is said, ‘wherever two or three are gathered in his name, Jesus is with us.’”

“That’s what the lizard congregation is for, isn’t it? And what’s best, they believe everything I tell them. They’re lizards. They can’t even speak Aramaic. They hardly even have lips to speak with! The simpletons must take my word for everything. It’s a fool proof plan.”

Paul nodded and politely sipped a cup of plain boiled rain water while Travis finished eating his fish.

“Was it you, then? The one who healed Publius’s father?”

“So you have heard of me then,” remarked Paul.

“I still have a few followers in town. People followers, not lizards. They keep me up to date. His father was a customer of mine. My snake oil. He’d buy a vial a week. That’s several drachmae a month of income I’m out, thank you very much. How did you do it? Fix him, I mean?”

“I did nothing, but by the power of the Holy Spirit working through me the man was healed.”

“And how much would it cost me, this Holy Spirit?” asked Travis as he sucked the fish oil residue from his hands. But Paul was confused by the question, so Travis elaborated. “Long have I lacked in certain of the powers handed down to the other Apostles. If you could see your way to helping me finally obtain this Spirit of which you speak, then I could reward you greatly.”

“Do you believe in Christ Jesus?” asked Paul.

“What kind of question is this? Believe in him? I knew him in the flesh..”

“Then if you believe in Christ, and if you celebrate that belief with love for all humankind, then I can’t say for sure what the problem might be. The spirit is not within my power to give and must come from God.”

Travis studied Paul for a moment. “It’s amazing to me. Why, in God’s infinite wisdom, would he bestow onto such an unimpressive man that which rightly belongs to me? No offense, of course.”

“I’m as surprised as you are,” said Paul, shrugging. “I was a blasphemer and a persecutor and an arrogant man, but I have been mercifully treated. Of this I am certain: Christ Jesus came to save sinners, and of these I am the foremost.”

Travis snorted. “Spoken like a true presbyter. You sound like them, too. Like all of them. Always focused on the wrong things. Like this poverty business. Who wants to be poor? Why would anyone join a religion that promises squalor and obscurity?”

“Surely you must know that love of money is the root of all evils,” replied Paul.

“Of all evils?” asked Travis. “All of them? Sodomy comes from money? Heh? Blasphemy comes from money? Fornication? Don’t get me wrong, the phrase sounds pithy. In my former life, I might have put that on a ceramic jug and sold it. But if you want people to join this - I hear you’re calling it Christianity now? - then how better to recruit than to promise wealth?”

Paul replied, “In my experience, those who want to be rich are falling into a trap, which will plunge them into ruin. Brother, we should not rely on so uncertain a thing as wealth but rather on God. Be rich in good works. Be generous. To teach people otherwise is to deceive the people.”

“Teach them? Why, they would never know the words or deeds of Christ if we did not share them. Surely, we have earned the right to tell them what we want to tell them, for a flock of new initiates is like a congregation of lizards, pliant and dumb. Don’t you know? Can you all not see with your eyes what is in front of you? None of you, no not one Apostle save for me, has learned the true lesson of the crucifixion.”

At this, Paul became uncomfortable with the fervor of Travis’s words, and his eyes began to drift towards the mouth of the cave. The skies grew dark. It seemed another squall was brewing. Paul said diplomatically, “I’m sure we all have our own views. Listen, friend, I should probably be getting back...”

“What is it, then? What’s the lesson?”

“...Of the crucifixion? That Christ died so that we may be forgiven our sins and so that we may have eternal life.”

“Nope!” chortled Travis. “That’s the lesson of the Lord’s ascension into heaven. But the crucifixion! I was there. I watched it happen. I saw the faces in the crowd, how their expressions twisted and contorted, how their eyes became full of fire and lust for blood. I felt that same powerful lust welling up inside my own chest.

“The true lesson is that there is power in inspiring hatred. The hatred of the mob is enough to make a man denounce his brother, to gouge out his own eyes in spite, to choke his own mother and to tear a peaceful man apart limb from limb. It is enough to inspire many more wondrous and monstrous acts, each too heinous even to imagine! That, my dear Apostle, is power!

“The power of love, yes verily, it is strong and surely Jesus knew well how to harness it. But the power to hate! If we can harness the power of love and the power of hate, then we can marshal every power known to man! The mind boggles at what we could accomplish with such power!”

Paul set aside his cup of boiled rain water and leveled his gaze at Travis. “My poor misled brother, I worry for your soul. It sounds to me as though you have strayed too far from the flock. To preach hatred and fear is anathema to the good news of Jesus Christ. If you persist in this way, I fear that you may well meet your end in the fires of eternal damnation.

“Do you think perhaps it might be time for you to repent the errors of your ways, to make amends and to turn again towards the true path? If you need me, I would happily play the part of confessor.”

“Error of my ways?!” scoffed Travis. “You dare come into my cave, drink my rain water, pick at my dried fish fillet without even taking a bite, and then have the audacity to suggest that I’m the one who must repent?”

Travis rose up and shouted, “Another demon! You have found me again, have you? Get back from me, you accursed spirit! Begone from here!”

When he had heard such vehement admonishments, Paul gathered himself up and retreated from Travis’s company. However, so consumed was Travis with righteous fury and indignation that he could not let this slight go.

And so, stumbling over loose rocks, Travis followed Paul through the mouth of the cave.

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