Rome, the cradle of modern civilization, ... but how civil is it? The art and architecture speak of a culture with much time on its hands. A sculptor begins with a mass of hewn marble and ponders the potential of the cold, shapeless carbonate. His eyes gleam as the object of his creation takes form in his mind. Countless days are spent on details only detectable by the touch. Removal of the crust, infinitesimal layer by layer, reveals something part human, part animal. As the artist completes the final stroke of the chisel, he falls on his face before the object of his labor. He has created more than a masterpiece. He has birthed a new god for the people of Rome.
The temple of worship is full -- full of people so eager and willing to plead before manifestations of their own futility in gold, silver, bronze, marble, and alabaster. Statues on every corner speak of the overflow of Roman religion. The temple has not room for all who want to worship. The idle have made restitution by placing the lesser gods in open view of passersby. Roman citizens need not all venture into the temple to lift their petitions on high. Why, everywhere you look, a god is in sight. Why should the Romans not be a proud people? After all, Rome is a city where the gods dwell in full view of the people. Rome is a city where the people dwell in full view of their gods. The temple is full, but there is always room for one more god. Caesar has ordained it. The people demand it.
But you may ask, "What does a god look like?" This is assuredly an empty question. The Romans are free thinkers. They limit the form of the gods no more than they limit their number. The only boundaries the Romans place on their gods pertain to the limits of their authority. For example, what does a god of war know about love? Thus, there must be separate gods so that the citizens of Rome may be blessed in all things -- in warfare, in knowledge, in love, in beauty, in fertility, in indulgence. What does a god look like? Among the shrines in the temple, some personifications have no equivalent on the earth below. Which of you has seen the semblance of Faunus grazing in the fields or foraging in the forest? Others look surprisingly mortal. Why should this surprise us, for if man erects statues of the gods on the very streets of Rome, where else would the true gods choose to live? If we accept that the gods also walk the streets of Rome, should we not be able to differentiate between the gods and our fellow Romans that populate this city? If we cannot, we must conclude that the gods take on human form. What does a god look like? What is perfect in form, what is faultless in appearance, what is exquisite in craftsmanship, that is a god to the citizens of Rome.
A shrouded figure pushes a cart effortlessly past the temple main portico entrance. The citizens part to make a way for the cart and its cloth-covered contents. There is just enough room to maneuver between the previously erected objects of art and passion. The cart comes to a stop in the central chamber of worship. Space is surprisingly available where the sunlight pours through the tight openings near the temple apex. There is, however, no lack of light, for candles adorn the cascades of shaped marble. It is no wonder that the Romans lack restraint in sexual indulgence, for their gods parade their sexuality, even within the walls of this temple. The figure who has so diligently guided the cart to its destination now gently pushes back the hood of his shroud. The artisan unveils his new creation for permanent exhibit. He takes two steps backwards and drops to his knees. One by one, the citizens in the temple follow his example. Soon all present have paid homage to the contemporary god of man. All Romans crave immortality and cling to the promises of Greek philosophers and patriarchs. Art transcends life. The artisan knows that well. The artisan slips on his hood and quietly exists the temple. His work is done. His work is appreciated. The people of Rome are thankful.
What cold marble cannot conquer, the Caesars have. Caesar must to appease his lustful desires. Versed in history, Caesar wants, Caesar needs, to exceed the riches of King Solomon. The gold of the east, the spices of the orient, the fabric of Egypt, the jewels of India, the ambrosia of the gods fuel Caesar's ambition of conquest. Octavian has a rich heritage to uphold. He must live up to his new name, Caesar Augustus -- The Revered One. He has served the Empire well. Serving ... ? Well, ... there is little doubt as to who was serving who. Regardless, Augustus is Caesar. All must pay tribute ... tribute, but not trust.
Why, the citizens of Rome do not even trust their gods to deliver them. They place their hope in the gods, but not trust. There is a difference. You see, the Roman gods find themselves in persistent clashes and entanglements. If I pray for victory rather than reconciliation, am I not pitting Mars against Venus? Shall I align myself with Vulcan or Vesta, god or goddess of fire? Should I pray to Diana or Minerva, since both represent fertility? Which is the strongest? Who is more powerful today? Who is least distracted? Even the mighty Jupiter, ruler over all gods and men, chooses not to govern with all authority. As for the affairs of men, if Caesar reigns on earth below, we must conclude that either Caesar has the blessing of the gods, the gods are preoccupied, or Caesar himself is a god. Caesar has declared his deity. Some secretly have their doubts, but does it really matter? What is one more god? Romans know not to trust but to pay tribute. After all, what is a little money to the citizens who have conquered the world?
Rome is a city of wealth, but with wealth comes responsibility -- or so it should be. Is it not the responsibility of the well-to-do to look after the welfare of the poor? But where are the poor? They reside not in Rome. The poor of the world are in the hinterlands -- in territory freshly secured under Rome's blessing. Yes, Romans do not take responsibility lightly. In distant lands, great public works projects are monuments to that responsibility -- the aqueducts, the baths, the forums. Wealth flows into Rome. Out of the overflow, Romans pour out compassion over the poor of the world, so long as the poor realize their lowly state and show their appreciation to the citizens of Rome ... and to Caesar, of course.
Rome is the home of scholars. With scholarly wisdom comes, accountability -- or so it should be. Are not the wise better equipped to make decisions for the uneducated masses? But where are the uneducated? They are not in Rome, the city of enlightenment. Are not the uneducated beyond the boundaries of the Empire? Is not Caesar clearly doing them a favor as he commissions his Tyrrhenian and Adriatic Fleets to expand his dominion? Is Caesar not doing them a service when he authorizes his legions to indoctrinate the barbarians in the knowledge of a greater society? Caesar knows the extent of their gratitude as the gifts roll in from the frontier regions. It is the generosity of the newly occupied territories that allows the citizens of Rome to engage in higher intellectual activity over rudimentary labor. Scholars must have time to apply their great learning. Scholars must have time to think new thoughts. In Rome, scholars apply their wit, whilst the slaves of conquest complete the day's work.
Rome is a city of statesmen, but with orderly governance comes justice -- or so it should be. Should not Rome be proud of its advanced system of government? Should not the whole world desire to come under the Roman system of order and justice? The people have their Senate for debate of matters of the day. They have their Patricians to set public opinion. They have their Plebians to argue for the right to be heard. The Senatorial Provinces have their Proconsuls and Magistrates to guarantee the rights of Roman citizens. The Imperial Provinces, as lands experiencing unrest, still lack no shortage of government officials to grant favor to Roman citizens willing to relocate. The Imperial Provinces have their Legates, Prefects, Consulars, Praetorians, Equestrians, and Magistrates. Are not these public officials ready to wield justice? Is freedom such a high price to pay for peace? Representatives of Rome are ready and willing to dispense justice. Justice, however, does not come without a price. Caesar knows that. The people should know that. Should the people not gladly pay taxes to reap the reward of the Roman system of governance? Where else could they receive protection from their barbaric enemies? Who else would grant them sanctuary from the greed of their neighbors without and within? Who else would share with pagans their leaders and their gods -- and all for a nominal tax?
Is it the palace of Caesar that brings the world into submissive fear or the unsheathed swords of his battalions? Most of the Empire has never seen Rome. Is it Caesar's voice that makes the people tremble or the heavy hand of his armed detachments? Caesar's voice travels no farther than Caesar's entourage. Do Caesar's decrees demand obedience or is it the hand at the end of the iron blade that brings submission? Caesar's decrees need a messenger. Who is responsible for the existence of the Empire? It depends upon who is consulted, Caesar or any one of the legions sworn to serve Rome. Regardless, military service is very profitable, for power bears dividend.
Caesar Augustus issued a decree to take a census of the Empire just to gage the extent of his power. Caesar needs to know where he stands in relation to the great rulers of the past. How many can Caesar look down upon? How many are available by conscription for public works projects? The Empire needs good roads and bridges. How much revenue can Caesar expect? Progress requires it. Soldiers demand it. The tax collectors must know the quotas expected of them. How else can regional wealth be bridled and ear-marked for Rome? Let them be counted, and counted they shall be.
On the outskirts of Rome, the lamps were already trimmed in the house of the chief mason. A shriek cut through the darkness, signaling the onset of labor pains. The chief mason was to have a son that night, but his wife was struggling for her every breath. Her pain was abnormally harsh, but a smile graced her face at the shrill sound of her newborn infant. As her work was done, she breathed her last. The chief mason gained the son he had longed for. As the final request of his wife, the child bore the name Augustus. The mason carried his newborn son outside and lifted him before the heavens. With strength in his hands but not in his voice, the mason petitioned, "Oh gods of heaven and earth, bestow upon this child powers beyond mere mortal man. Let your favor fall upon him as he carries the spirit of his mother and the blessing of his father." A new star was seen in the heavens that night -- surely a sign of answered prayer.
Please visit another workbench:
Randy's e-mail connection