There's something about Heritage

I loved Rome. I loved everywhere I went, actually (my layover in Poland made me wish I could live there.... it was amazing), but there was something about Rome. Knowing that Paul used to hang out there, that Nero used to burn it down for fun (well, that was once, but still!), that the Christians in Romans huddled together to read Paul's letter to them... I don't know, it was pretty cool.

Not to mention: the Colosseum. I loved it. There was something about standing in that expansive structure, looking across at the floor (which wasn't as big as maybe I thought it would be), and knowing that the blood of hundreds of thousands of people had been mingled with the sand under the sound of a cheering mob... it was rather moving. Then to think of how many of those were Christians, killed for sport. I wanted to stand there and cry, but there were a bunch of people hanging around, so I didn't.

Also, we went to the catacombs. I mentioned those a few weeks ago, and I must admit, I thought it was well worth the admission price. Standing in the dark tunnels, running my hand across the uneven walls, wondering how many people used to call it home... Again, moving.

The weirdest thing, though, is how unimportant that seemed to the other tourists. Obviously, if you don't care about Christ, you're not going to care about the Christians who lived and died in His name, but I kept on looking around that great city and thinking: why are these crazy people here? It was crowded and full of other irritating tourists (and 55,000 German kids, thanks to our poor timing) and besides, they're just old buildings. I just couldn't imagine going there just for the sake of going. I was there to see one of the places the Bible happened! And it was totally worth it.

It also made me want to run home and read every book I'd ever read about Rome. I've read dozens of historical novels set in Rome over the years, and now that I've been there I figure I'll appreciate them even more. I haven't taken the time yet, but I have enjoyed reading those New Testament Pauline epistles since I returned. While I have no idea where Paul was under his house arrest, I know that he was there long enough to write some pretty swell parts of the Bible! I just keep thinking, "I was there, where the early Church was when they were still considered early! And where they used to hide out in fear, but sing out in boldness, in the face of all that went on."

I walked some of those streets. They've doubtlessly been re-cobbled, but fact is, it was the same part of the world. That was enough for me.