The New Gospel

Lydia:  Marcus, [the Apostle] Paul will be here soon.  I would like so much to have his blessing, and perhaps let him say a few words over us.

Marcus:   What words?  You’ve heard enough of his words.  They’ve deafened your ears to everything life has to tell you.

Lydia:  But you heard Peter and Paul speak.  Did you hear anything that was ugly or wrong?

Marcus:  I heard a childish old man speak in riddles.  Believe as they do and you will think a cow is a bull, and a bull is an ox, and an ox is a goat.

Lydia:  Oh, Marcus dear, I thought having heard, you might begin to know, to understand why.

Marcus:  Yeah … (pointing to the cross on the wall) Is this the symbol of your god … your Christ?

Lydia:  The cross on which he was crucified.

Marcus:  I am willing to accept your god if it makes you happier.

Lydia:  I don’t demand it.

Marcus:  In our garden in Sicily, we will open up a big cross, higher than the roof.  More than that, I’ll put up a special pedestal and crown it with a figure of Christ carved from the finest marble.  Of course, you’ll have to have Peter tell the sculptor what he looks like.

Lydia:  Marcus, listen to me.

Marcus:  (continues enthusiastically as if he has not heard her) Why not?  It’s no trouble.  There’s such an army of gods these days, we can always find room for another.

Lydia:  I’m not asking it as a condition for our having one another.  I just hope and pray the image of Christ will appear in your heart.

Marcus:  My heart is only for you.  There won’t be room for him there.

Lydia:  There will be.  I always carry him in mine, with you.

Marcus: (disdainfully) Well, take him out if he means that much Lydia.  You hear me, get rid of him! 

Lydia:  Paul (who has just entered), Marcus just asked me to be his wife.

Paul:  Well, I’m sure this has brought her great joy, Marcus.

Lydia:  You could see, Paul, that I loved him.  I was just trying to explain to him that … well … that there are other things … I mean …

Paul:  I understand.

Marcus:  I don’t.  I offer to accept the symbols of her god into my house.  I don’t ask her to accept mine.  What more can I say or do to prove that I am not an enemy of her god?

Lydia:  Marcus, try to understand my faith, my beliefs, my very deep beliefs.  Don’t force me to choose.

Marcus:  You mean between me and your Christ?  Yes choose, because I’d no more share you with your Christ than I would with any other man.

Lydia:  But Marcus, don’t you see.  Unless you try to understand, what we feel for each other will destroy itself … destroy us.

Paul:  My son, your love for Lydia, great and beautiful as you feel it, is small compared with your love for all mankind.

Marcus:  What sort of love is it that acknowledges a force greater than itself?  What runs in your veins, philosopher, blood or water?  What sort of poison do you spread?  You coming with me Lydia? … Lydia?

Lydia:  (sadly defeated) No, I can’t.

Marcus:  Something is hidden behind your meek words, philosopher, yours and that fanatical fisherman [Peter].  They strike at Rome and Roman law.  I warn you if ever Roman rule is threatened, you’ll feel my sword. (He brusquely pushes Paul aside, and on his way out, takes the cross from the wall and with both his hands breaks it in two.)