This creative essay is written as a first-person narrative from the perspective of a traveling companion of the Apostle Paul. Drawing on episodes from the Acts of the Apostles, it recounts Paul's missionary encounters across the Greco-Roman world — most vividly the riot in Ephesus sparked by the silversmith Demetrius. The narrator weaves together observations about art, religious conflict, cultural difference, and the universal appeal of the Christian message. References to Greco-Roman mosaics and sculptural reliefs encountered during the travels serve as symbolic anchors, illuminating tensions between paganism and early Christianity. The essay ultimately argues that a shared human appreciation for truth, law, and beauty underlies all cultures and makes eventual conversion of the Roman world possible.
The paper demonstrates the use of ekphrasis — the literary description of visual art — as a theological and argumentative device. Each artwork the narrator describes (the dove-holding girl, the bear hunt, the peacock mosaic) is interpreted as a symbol that illuminates the collision and potential convergence of Greco-Roman and Christian worldviews. This technique shows how material culture can be read as evidence of spiritual or philosophical ideas.
The essay opens by establishing Paul's universalist outlook, then narrates the central dramatic episode (the Ephesus riot) before widening outward through symbolic reflection on art, law, and theology. It closes with a prophetic meditation on Rome's eventual conversion. The structure moves from event to reflection to vision — incident, interpretation, and implication — giving it a satisfying arc despite its episodic, diary-like format.
As a traveling companion of Paul, I have witnessed a number of marvels and observed the way in which the Christian faith of the Apostle challenges the boundaries between cultures and societies. In Greece, for example, I have seen Paul mix and mingle with Jews, with those baptized by John — and then baptized in the spirit of Christ by Paul1 — with Romans, and with every other possible variety of inhabitant in the islands. Paul could relate to many because his mission and outlook were such that he saw himself connected to everyone, even the living and the dead. I mention these latter because even a tombstone of a young girl, depicting her innocence as she holds a dove, could elicit from Paul such reverence and appreciation that you would think he had personally known her.2 In such simple representations of life — a girl and a bird — he saw great meaning and a universality of richness that extended to everyone.
For Paul, there was no distinction between wealthy Roman and Ephesian, no distinction between Jew and Gentile. Of course, he was perfectly well aware of how these peoples and their cultures and backgrounds differed on a socioeconomic level, on a political level, and even on a religious level — but it was this last level where he sought to unite all, to equate all, by bringing them into the same religious fold, so that they, like him, were followers of Christ. His successes were astounding, and his challenges even more so. In some places he was loved; in others, hated. Truly the most important aspect of this world that I witnessed was the manifestation of one of two spirits — a kindly spirit that welcomed truth and charity, and a demonic spirit that sought only to sow hatred and division.3
One of the most interesting experiences in Paul's company was the riot in Ephesus.4 This riot perfectly represents the interface between early Christianity and the Greco-Roman social, cultural, and religious environment. A man named Demetrius, who built shrines made of silver in honor of the goddess Artemis — called Diana by the Romans — caused a frenzy among the Ephesians when he gave the impression that Paul was going to ruin them of their livelihood by converting the populace. Demetrius spoke to his friends and fellow craftsmen and complained that Paul denounced the gods and goddesses of their craft as false and as being no gods at all.
Thus there was a significant religious divide between the believers in the Greek gods and goddesses in Ephesus and the followers of Christ whom Paul taught. When Demetrius began to speak against Paul, the non-Christians were angered: they believed that Paul constituted a threat to their livelihood. What would happen, for example, if the whole region converted to Christianity? There would be no more need for the fine shrines built by these craftsmen. The situation quickly turned violent. The peace and serenity represented by the innocent girl holding the doves in the tombstone — which Paul had earlier seen during his travels as an image of purity and goodness — was nowhere to be found in Ephesus. The divide between the two religious camps was full of fire. Even our friends were taken by force by the followers of Demetrius. The Jews got involved and attempted to sway events, but the Ephesians only shouted all the more loudly in the crowd where they had gathered: "Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!"5
I was reminded of a Roman floor mosaic that we had seen earlier in our travels: the mosaic depicted a bear hunt. Like the social environment in Ephesus, it was a combination of cultures that produced the work — a Greek influence combined with a Roman sensibility. The picture showed hunters in pursuit of bears and was depicted across a number of tiles in the wealthy home of a Roman interested in hearing what Paul had to say about Christ and God. Paul, being of both Roman and Jewish background, could easily mingle in so many diverse crowds — but it was, of course, his Christianity and his passionate ardor for the faith that most distinguished him among them. The scene of the bear hunt depicted in the mosaic was a fearful one, showcasing the fearsome quality of the Romans, who would make sport of captured animals in their games in the coliseums and arenas.6
Blood sport was always a great entertainment for many of these people, and the scene in Ephesus seemed to be boiling over to that precise point. I felt as though Paul and we were the bears being hunted by the angry Ephesians who had misunderstood our religious purpose. They thought we were out to destroy them — but that was far from our intention. All that needed to be explained was that even if the whole of Ephesus converted, these men's talents would not go to waste: they could easily be employed in the manufacturing of images, shrines, and religious works giving honor to the saints and to Christ. But at the time there was no way to communicate anything sensible: emotions were heightened and few were interested in hearing about the faith, imagining that Paul was a subjugator of their way of life.
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