The Stranger of Galilee

CLAUDIA'S EPILOGUE

'You are not my wife.'
               That is Pilate had said, when Claudia returned to his doorstep a year ago. She had found it amusing: her husband had believed her to be some sort of apparition, and whilst that was not true, his words were. She was not his wife.
               In fact, she was an entirely different woman to the one he had known! She could no longer sit through long dinners with boring politicians, laughing elegantly while eating expensive foods and wearing gorgeous gowns. She could not idly waste her days in a palace chamber, nor keep her lips sealed when there were so many exciting things to talk about!
               And so, she was not 'Procula' anymore. She was Claudia now: wearer of Hebrew clothes, reciter of Hebrew scriptures, and follower of the Hebrew God. Oh, how she often wished she could have stayed with her Hebrew family in the wilderness forever! But Pilate was her husband, and for that reason, she owed him a part in her life - or death, as he might have it.
               So there she had appeared, one year ago, on the doorstep of his palace, unwashed, starving, penniless, and in the custody of four soldiers. How Pilate could distinguish between her and a Roman beggar, she would never know! But he did, and not only did he not drag her to The Pavement by her tangled hair, but he actually accepted her into his chambers! And amongst the thousands of questions he hit her with, the most desperate was this: 'Why did you wait so long to return to me again, oh dear woman?'
               She answered honestly, and lovingly, as Christ-followers ought to do. She told her husband of all that had befallen her since they last met together, and how every thirsty moment, every tired morning, every painful hour had been entirely worth it in order to reach Galilee and embrace the Son of God for the first time! She told him of the many emotions she had felt, and the fear she had had of returning to the palace and being condemned for desertion. But Pilate reassured her with kind words - something she had never believed him capable of doing! - and he even forgave her. Claudia could only embrace him tightly and praise the Lord for his goodness toward her!
               They spoke together for hours, Pilate and his wife. In fact they took supper in his chambers, entirely alone, where they continued their excited discussion and Pilate even began to admit to his wrongdoing in the trial of Jesus. Claudia had never heard her husband humble himself before, but upon hearing him say, 'Then, I was wrong to permit his execution, was I not? I am sorely disgraced in the eyes of the God of Israel!', Claudia's hope that he would be saved ignited. And when he clasped her hands, and stroked her face, and kissed her lips, for the first time Claudia felt that she truly had a husband: not merely a spouse.
               It was nice. Perhaps not as nice as Lucius had made her feel, but nice, nonetheless.

Unfortunately such attention was far less pleasing to Claudia when it came from the other Romans. Pilate may have asked her many questions, but he himself was interrogated by his soldiers, his colleagues - even once by Tiberias himself! Everyone wanted to know what had driven the governor's wife to disappear, then reappear as an almost entirely different person.
               Yet now, a whole year later, she was still safe, and still married. Claudia was not executed: Pilate never imagined such a fate for her, and when Octavius did, he swiftly lost his position as centurion. And the position was not soon filled, for over half Jerusalem's army had forsaken Rome to follow Jesus!
               Claudia was so glad. Since arriving home she had preached to anyone who would listen of her salvation, and utterly to her surprise, her preaching was well received; soon not only was Pilate praying on his knees, begging God's forgiveness for his sins, but temples, synagogues, streets and the palace continuously rang out with the words, 'The Lord Jesus Christ is our salvation!'
               In fact leading souls to the Lord had been so easy, so quick, that the few who did not open their hearts to the truth became the strange ones! No longer was Claudia the outcast; the vagabond; the traitor. Now the sheep of Jesus' fold were herding together in their thousands, and, no more banished to her chambers or banished to the wilderness, Claudia got to follow on with them. She spent her days in the streets, worshipping amongst them, and her evenings with Pontius, ministering and being ministered to. It was a most marvellous life.

'There is talk of exile for all who follow the Hebrew God, Claudia.' Talia told her gravely one night, while brushing her hair. Her mistress sighed at her reflection in the looking-glass. 'Are you concerned?'
'Oh, no.' Claudia said. 'I only wish you did not sound so concerned yourself, Talia! We must have faith in everything, child. Whether we dwell in this palace or in exile, God is with you, and with me. Remember that.'
'I shall, Claudia.'
               Finished for the day, Talia placed Claudia's hairbrush down on the desk, and gestured toward the bed. 'Here, Claudia. Take your rest. I shall see you in the morning - oh, and will you be wearing the same raiment tomorrow?'
'Yes.' Claudia said, smiling down at the brown dress she was wearing. 'Someone very special gave this to me, and I shall wear it always.'
'Pilate does not like that it is Hebrew.'
'Pilate is saved, and thus he must come to understand that there are neither 'Romans' nor 'Hebrews' anymore. We are all of one heavenly kingdom now, are we not?'
               Smiling agreeably, Talia nodded her head and bid Claudia goodnight.

When she lay down to sleep a short while later, with a comfortable bed beneath her body, Claudia thought of her old friend, Lucius. She had not seen him for so long, but she could imagine what he was doing now: travelling the world, preaching to the lost. Perhaps he had married Martha. Perhaps they had a family. Perhaps the eleven were with them too! Perhaps young Rebekah was still full of questions. Perhaps Simon was still bearing the burdens of others, whether in crosses or wagonloads or spirit. Perhaps Joshua was still seeing the world through God's eyes.

Perhaps even after watching Jesus ascend, they were all still as zealous as ever, as united as ever, and as happy as ever.