When in Rome
Do your best
Then the commander took him by the hand, went aside, and asked privately, “What is it that you have to tell me?” Acts 23:19 NKJV
I have long loved this verse because it shows a type of beauty often missing in our world.
A man, a tough Roman Commander, a martial kind of guy, has a child by the hand. Gently. And it’s not just any kid, either. The Commander has a son of the enemy by the hand.
People who hate him with all their might have spawned this boy and he’s holding his hand, drawing him to a private place somewhere within the passageways of the Roman military barracks.
He seemingly had to take him somewhere away from the other guys. Away from the Centurion who brought him here. Away from listening ears. Away from perhaps terrifying sounds and cruel or obscene remarks about Jewish boys.
The young man has a message for him and hopes — perhaps with ill-hidden trembling — that the Commander will want to hear it. He knows the possibilities. This commander could be cruel, could be hateful. Or merely tired of intrigues and ambushes and rumors of war.
Fed up with the Foederati.
