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A Trader’s Tale

 

It had been a busy few weeks. A long sea journey from Perga (that's in Pamphylia) down the coast to Jaffa and then the inland trek to Jerusalem. I had always wanted to visit, to see the Temple and, to be honest, make a bit of money. For a trader like me the crossroads between North and South, East and West that is JerusalEm offers many, many opportunities to make a profit.

Sell all the goods that I have brought from home and pick up different stuff that will sell like hot cakes on my return. After all a man has to make a living. When I had arrived the whole of Jerusalem was buzzing with talk about what had happened around Passover. Apparently some guy named Jesus had been claiming to be the Messiah but the authorities soon put their foot down. Had him arrested, flogged, nailed to a tree and killed quick as you like; that was the end of him. Except strange rumours went about that he had risen from the tomb: imagine that! Anyway eventually it all seemed to go quiet and it was back to business as usual. So there I was, having a bit of breakfast before setting of on the journey back home when.... Turmoil. All of a sudden, as if from nowhere, there were these men, all fired up, telling everyone about this Jesus. All about how he had really died, really had risen from the tomb and all of this so that we could be saved. I didn't even realise I needed saving. Not just me, everyone; the whole world needs to know this. You know what, I don't know how but it all made sense and really struck home. These guys had something and I really wanted to be part of it. Not just that, although that was enough. I got by in the market place with the little bit of Aramaic I know but they seemed to be talking in my language and that is what everyone else reckoned as well. It might seem strange but I'm telling you it happened. Just wait until I get home and tell everyone.

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