Rufus

By Anthony Van

His journey to reunite with family members was the result a violent attack that left him near death. Always suspicious of the motives of the new movement of believers, his path crosses with some of its legendary leaders. The politics and culture of Rome affects the Christos followers and Rufus too, when he throws in his lot with them. Although the challenges of faith were life threatening in the various centres of the Roman empire, Rufus began to learn that scriptures found in the law had a higher purpose of presaging and confirming the truth of the good news of Yeshua Christos. He also learnt that faith wasn’t an easy deliverance from trials and suffering, rather it was a promise of hope and future glory.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anthony Van
• Release date: Mar 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215666500

Anthony Van

What does a retired teacher do? Especially a teacher with a hyperactive imagination and ingrained work habits. Well this one writes. And being a Christian, each novel I have written necessarily is pieced together from a Christian perspective.I have a broad range of interests which include science and technology, mathematics, travel, sports and the interrelationship of people. Much of what intrigues me about people is that some pursue truth with the determination of a bloodhound while others almost ignore existential ideas and while away their short time spent on earth being distracted by people or pleasures or possessions or power.Writing is a hobby. It allows me to research and self educate, and it also permits me to refine my perspectives of concepts existential and theological.

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Rufus

Published by Anthony Van at Smashwords

Copyright Anthony Van 2023

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Chapter 1

The wooden mallet smashed against the bench. The handle cracked.

Arrgh! Rufus examined the implement, still seething. That was stupid, he groaned. Now there’s something else I have to repair.

Everything was falling apart in his life. He sat on his stool at his workbench and put his head in his hands. The wiry, tallish youth—compared to his peers—was churning inside trying to come to terms with what life had dealt him. This abandonment had loomed in the background of his thoughts for many days. His disapproval had been consistently voiced. He had even argued most of the previous evening with his brother, Alexander, and his mother. Why would they want to leave the comfort and prosperity of Cyrene and return to Jerusalem when the place was in uproar? It was futile. He couldn’t persuade them, and this morning they had left. Come with us they said. It was a delusion he had replied. How many messiahs had cropped up over the years? They had all ended in tragedy. This latest one had been the worst.

He went over the story in his mind. His father and Alexander had gone to Jerusalem for the Passover festival seven years previously. He had been left behind to mind the carpentry workshop and look after his mother who had been too unwell to travel. They had come back with an unbelievable story. They said they had seen the Messiah. Rufus had contended that they were mistaken. If the Messiah had come then all their enemies would be defeated; they would be a free and prosperous country instead of being crushed under the foot of Rome.

Simon, his father, had said they had misinterpreted the scriptures. There was a deeper truth that Yeshua had revealed to them. That statement made Rufus sceptical from the onset. Even though he had been only twelve years old, he ridiculed them. One rabbi tells them all the other priests and rabbis have got it wrong, and they believed him! He reminded his father how he had often warned them of heretics, and that they should adhere to the teachings of the synagogue. When eventually this elder of the two sons was convinced to listen to his father’s retelling of events, he became even more derisive. The claims simply didn’t add up. They said he was killed but came to life again. Those things didn’t happen.

Do you doubt that God can give life? his father had countered.

God can … but a man claiming to be the Messiah…what did he do…pretend to be killed and suddenly appear again…did he take poison? What?

He was crucified, replied his father.

And you saw this? Rufus challenged doubtfully.

I carried his cross.

Rufus had been stunned at the comment. His father had always been a man of integrity. He had stared at Alexander and asked where he was when all this was happening.

His brother answered, I was in the crowd…I was fearful for father. When the Romans compelled him to carry the cross, I thought he might suffer some inhuman treatment too.

So, you saw this Yeshua crucified? He went on without waiting for a reply. He must have pretended to die and his followers probably rescued him.

He died, Rufus, insisted his father. The Romans whipped him and tortured him… That’s why he couldn’t even carry his cross…And then they nailed him there…They called him The King of the Jews. We spoke to the men who put him in a tomb just before the sabbath. They said he’d been speared after his death. It proved he had been killed. But his disciples told us they saw him three days later and he was alive…And weeks later, with hundreds of other people, we saw him too.

The words again rang vividly in his memory. It was not an easy thing for Rufus to accept. He held that it was some sort of elaborate plot. Perhaps the man had a lookalike or maybe a twin brother. If he was the Messiah, then where was he? The answer was unsatisfactory for Rufus. Alexander had said that he had gone back to heaven but would return again. Their story went on about the miraculous gift of the Spirit of God. How they had listened to the disciples preach and had confessed their faith in Yeshua. They claimed people were healed. His father had said that after Peter had preached, thousands had done the same as they and become believers.

Though hardly into his thirteenth year at the time, Rufus had asked around from others who had attended the Passover and the stories were mixed. Some said a great prophet had been executed by the Romans while others told of the Sanhedrin’s fury at the new movement, decrying it as blasphemous. It perplexed him that people should follow a man who had opposed the religious leaders. How could his father and brother be so deceived?

Rufus picked up the mallet and pulled apart the handle by removing the wedges in the end and knocking the broken remnant through the heavy mallet head. It was a perfect illustration of what had occurred to his family. His father, after his return, spent many weeks reading the scriptures when he was not working. He consulted with one of the locals, also a Jew, who was a new follower of Yeshua. The two of them met together with some others of like mind and started a community of believers. The group had grown considerably since then. After several years his father was more convinced than ever. So convinced was he that he announced to his family that he must tell others of the new covenant that Yeshua had made with those who follow him. Simon said he had relatives in Alexandria that he would tell. Then he would make his way to Jerusalem and find out what was happening with the believers. That had all been many months ago. Then recently, he sent a message for his family to join him in Jerusalem.

It was galling to Rufus that his mother accepted everything Alexander and his father told her. She said it felt right. It made some of the writings of scripture more meaningful. Rufus was at a loss. He had always respected his mother as the wise one in the family and he had tried to convince her to stay. He argued that he was getting more work than ever, and the business was becoming more profitable. She had countered that they would manage wherever they were as long as they were together.

***

Now he was alone. Instead of three of them working in the shop, he had to cope by himself. He spent the next half hour fabricating a new handle for the mallet, shaping the end of the wooden handle, making two cuts for the wedges and affixing it in the hardwood head. Rufus then worked on the large table ordered by Gennadios, a Greek noble who was a regular customer. He was rubbing a thin sheen of animal fat into it to give it a polished grainy look. It was one of the things the customers liked. If they paid extra he would go to the trouble of making a varnish by boiling pine resin in olive oil. His father had taught him how, but Rufus was yet to treat one of his orders with the protective sheen.

Gennadios’ daughter Hermione came into the workshop to see if the table was ready for pickup. She was pretty and seemed to enjoy her visits, especially now, when Rufus was alone. The Greek style of female attire was far less conservative than the Jewish girls in Cyrene and she noted that Rufus paid particular attention when she came in. Her reason to be there was always in regard to his progress on their orders. But she flirted at every opportunity. This day it lifted Rufus’ mood. He was a young man, not yet twenty, and he was cheered because someone appeared to admire him and take notice of him.

The ringlets of Hermione’s hair framed her face as she looked expectantly at him. He felt compelled to say something. It is ready for delivery. If your father could send the payment with the men picking the table up it would be most appreciated.

Oh, Rufus, you’ve done such a lovely job. It almost shines. I will tell father it looks wonderful.

You could tell him the couches will take a little longer than planned…I’m alone now as my family will soon all be in Jerusalem.

Ooh…you’re alone. Her eyelids fluttered. I will have to visit more often.

Rufus felt his face go hot and Hermione giggled. She swayed her way out of the building.

Different thoughts invaded his mind. He was ever so righteous about adhering to the edicts of the religious rulers when arguing with his father and brother, and yet now he was entertaining his future prospects with a non-Hebrew girl. Invading his conscience were the teachings of Israelite history, specifically the judgement of the promiscuous when they ‘rose up to play’, and the consequences when the people were guilty of intermarriage with pagans.

Rufus shook his head as if the wicked ideas would scatter out like a dog shedding water. He had work to do. There was an expensive door for Matthias that had to be fitted. Matthias was a worker of brass and had fashioned large ornate hinges for his house, attached to his workshop, to help advertise his already thriving trade. Rufus had constructed the door from pine shipped in from Lebanon. He had been fortunate to get a bargain price for the purchase of the least expensive of the imported timbers from that source of quality wood. These last months he had become quite good at buying materials. In the past, when costs were prohibitive, he had gone up into the high hills with his father and cut a juniper down and sawn it into boards using the large iron saw. They had purchased it from a Roman carpenter who had decided to go back home. It made him realise that there was a limit, now, to what he could do on his own.

As he examined the finished products, he recalled the order. Matthias has stipulated that he wanted a cedar door, but when Simon, Rufus’ father had given him the price he changed his mind. Even though it was only pine, it was still too heavy for Rufus to carry over by himself. Alexander was no longer around to help. He would have to push the barrow his father had made entirely of wood, using wooden pins and glue to hold it all together. It was the sort of product his father would use to demonstrate, to the public, his proficiency in carpentry.

It would be Rufus’ first opportunity to hammer in Roman nails for a customer. They were expensive and seldom requested by any but the most affluent customers. Previously, when the iron nails were ordered, his father did the honours using their precious iron hammer. He argued that the risk, of bending the nails, was too great to allow his apprentices to do the task. Unknown to his father, Rufus had found an old Roman nail and had practised hitting it into soft palm wood when his father and Alexander weren’t about. The nail had bent a few times and he had meticulously straightened it out, put it in the fire and quenched it to make it stronger, and then practised again. He cleaned the workshop not willing to start anything new. Fixing the door was a job for the next day.

***

A cart arrived in the morning and Gennadios himself had come to supervise the collection of the table and pay the bill. Rufus soon realised he was assuring himself of the quality before paying the agreed price. He examined the joins and tabletop closely before conferring his approval. The Greek official then watched as the table was carefully loaded onto a horse drawn cart. Once he was satisfied it was firmly in place, he slowly walked the way back up the hill to the Greek residences greeting people along the way. He was not arrogant like other Roman citizens, thought Rufus as he watched the informal parade recede up the hill. The man was gregarious and enjoyed mixing with people of all stations. Rufus smiled. Patronage for his trade from a city official being demonstrated so openly wouldn’t hurt his business.

Having organised the necessary tools to be taken, Rufus gave his handiwork one final survey. After loading the door onto the barrow, and wheeling it outside the shop, he went back in. For security, he placed a wooden bar in a slot as a barrier for the large door. Going out a side door, he wheeled the beautifully finished door down the laneway. Then on the main cobbled street, he went slowly hoping passers-by would compliment him on his fine workmanship. He was proud of it, and particularly pleased that his father had remarked that he had a real gift in carpentry. His younger brother Alexander was not so skilled but had shown himself to be a talented promoter for the workshop, gaining numerous customers merely by mentioning in his more extensive socialising that his father could fix that or make a better one of those. Simon had said often that they made a good team. Yet now they had deserted Rufus. He commenced another round of grumbling as he pushed the barrow with his tools, boards for the frame and the door up the gentle incline toward the more impressive section of the city. He admired his work as he went. The smoothly planed edges, the fluted panels chiselled symmetrically on the top and bottom halves and the almost undetectable joins binding the boards together, were evidence that he was no longer an apprentice. Perhaps that’s why his father had left him in charge of the shop. Whatever the reason, he had no choice but to rise to the demands being placed on him.

Although Matthias was a Jew, he was a successful metal worker, especially in brass and copper, and had chosen to live in the wealthier area of the city where the residents could see over the lip of the escarpment and view the blue waters of the Mare Nostrum or Our Sea, which is what the Romans called the sea. The predominantly Greek community called it Megale Thelasse or Great Sea. It was an apt depiction of the mindset of the Romans that they were the possessors of the known world.

The last fifty steps were a steeper gradient and Rufus had to work hard to get his order to the home of his customer. Matthias had seen him coming and had removed the old door from its position. It had pivoted between two blocks of wood on pegs inserted at the top and bottom. It was a cheaper solution to the problem of having a swinging door but it wore out much quicker than a good hinge.

Where is your father…I thought he would place my door.

He is not yet back from Alexandria. It is not a problem is it? I have made the door and am well-qualified to hang it for you. He was loathe to reveal that his father’s absence was more or less permanent.

Matthias stepped out and studied the door. You made this?

Yes.

Boy, it is good workmanship…Your father has taught you well.

Rufus tried to be unfazed by the accolade but the broad smile that forced itself onto his face made him concede a muffled thank you. He examined the door jams before doing anything about the door. He ran his finger along a split in the timber.

These have to be replaced.

Matthias drew near and sounded doubtful. Are you trying to inflate your bill? … It doesn’t look too bad to me.

This is a good new door…I take it you did a good job making the hinges…and you want to attach it to this? His words were scornful. Well…I won’t take responsibility if my door falls off weak supports.

What do you want to do? Matthias was guarded.

I brought timber anticipating this need…I’ll replace the frame and the jams.

How much will that cost? The words sounded surly.

The youth gritted his teeth. Because my father did the measuring and didn’t explain the importance of having a sturdy frame…consider it part of the service.

Matthias! The stern utterance came from the entrance to the next room. It had given Rufus a start and he looked up to see the metal worker’s wife, his daughter and younger son standing behind. She went on.

You know Simon told you, you needed to replace that frame…You were supposed to let him know.

Yes, yes… he grizzled. I suppose it needs changing…How long will it take young Rufus? I don’t want the night ocean breeze blowing in.

I should be able to finish it this afternoon.

Ah…right… He stood transfixed momentarily. Well get to it then, he instructed gruffly. The girl giggled. It caused Rufus to look up at her and she directed a winsome smile at him. It unsettled him. His father had mentioned that Matthias had an eligible daughter that Rufus should carefully consider. He used the words, respected family, devout Jews and good stock. Rufus thought he could substitute one word for what his father meant, wealthy. She wasn’t unattractive but he was in no mood to entertain the notion. Such a commitment would tie him down. And while his family and many others were taking advantage of the opportunity to travel and see some of the remarkable cities of the Roman realm, he would be stuck if he married. He, too, wanted to see Jerusalem, maybe visit Greece or even Rome. There would be plenty of time for settling down later.

Matthias retrieved his prized shiny brass hinges and Roman nails and placed them in the barrow. Rufus bobbed his head to indicate he saw the items and then got to work. Much to his discomfit, the girl watched his every move. He used his double-edged adze to lever the wobbly doorframe away from the stone wall. He was convinced it would have collapsed if he had tried to hang the new door on it. Having removed it, he used an iron awl to drill two deep holes into each side and the top. The tool was effective in boring into the gritty sandstone. He then marked the position of the holes on the three boards of the frame and used his bow drill to put matching holes in the wood. The round pegs he brought for the purpose were dipped in his glue pot and driven through the holes in the wood into the wall. Only two of the six needed to be planed flush with the wood.

With the frame firmly fixed, he used the specially prepared remaining spare boards to form the door jam. The jams required smaller pegs carefully measured and positioned so they formed small plugs not visible on the inside of the doorframe and fitting exactly into the smaller holes he drilled for them. The glue was used for the pegs and the contact surfaces of the jam and the outer frame.

Elizabeth, who had been watching him, called out and he saw a girl walking past along the road. She stopped and the metalworker’s daughter ran out and talked with the passer by. There were some girlish giggles and sidelong glances toward the young carpenter. He found it disconcerting. With effort, he reapplied his attention to the work at hand. Although the glue wasn’t set, the frame was now tightly pressed against the stonework, and he could concentrate on hanging the door.

Rufus was ready now to attach the hinges. He heard Matthias’ wife call the name Elizabeth, and the girl complained that she had to come and help with the evening meal. It was a relief for the young carpenter. This was a part of the job he was most nervous about and having an audience would have only made matters worse. He proceeded. Getting the hinges attached to the frame by carefully hitting in the Roman nails with his special iron hammer, he then elevated the door on some spare wooden pegs. This was done because he was conscious that the whole thing would settle a bit and he didn’t want to return to plane the bottom of the door. When he was satisfied that there was sufficient clearance between the bottom of the door and the flagstone, Rufus nailed in the hinge on the door. Lastly, he fixed the inside door latch and ensured a wooden bar would fit into the existing wall sockets. It would be more secure than having only a brass bolt or latch.

As he was testing the finished product, Matthias came back in.

Finished already?

"Yes…Do you want to test it…see if it is satisfactory?

The metalsmith made a great to do out of swinging the door to its full extent and peering closely at the closure against the jam, before testing the barred door.

Seems adequate…well done. He opened up a leather pouch and paid thirty drachmas.

The bill was for twenty-five, remarked Rufus.

Your father said the frame would be extra…and, truthfully, I’m very pleased. I might call you when I have made a brass handle, and you can fit it in the stead of the latch…Besides Sara just told me your family is all in Jerusalem… so you may need the money.

Rufus held off explaining that Alexander and his mother had only left that morning. He thanked the metalsmith and packed up his equipment into the barrow. He nodded at the door.

You might want to put some animal fat on the hinges if they start to squeal, he advised.

I use a touch of olive oil…does the same thing.

Rufus twisted his head in acknowledgment. He would retain that useful idea. With a raised arm and a parting call out, the young carpenter began to leave. He felt elated at his sudden wealth. Jingling the currency common to the Egyptian sector of the Roman Empire, he suddenly realised that even though the money no longer supported four members of the family, he would have to buy all the supplies, find customers and go to the market for all his food and other provisions. These were tasks his father, brother and mother performed in addition to assisting with the carpentry work. Life would be busier and far more complicated for him now.

***

The walk down the slope was leisurely and relaxed. Rufus was setting out a program in his mind. When should he