A Letter to St Paul from his Mam

 

When I left Pontnewenydd to be with your dad in Tarsus, I never dreamt our  son would grow up to be not just a dab hand at tenting making, but also a gofer for the Romans, but there we are… tidy jobs that pay. 

To be quite honest with you, you've always surprised me.  You were a crakin’ little boy and by all accounts the Romans really  rate you, but of late, Saul, I hardly know you.

There was whatever happened on the Damascus Road.  Now, your Dad thinks you didn't pay enough attention when he said the quickest way to Damascus  was through the three villages and then turn right at the deep well.  We have to be straight with you…we think you must have turned left.  

Anyway, there you were, and in an instant, with a big flash of light, your career is down the toilet and you’re off on some adventure after that man from down South called Jesus.  That confuses me, because up to now you’ve been knocking seven bells out of his mates.

We hear all about it, you know. I mean, I'm not one to gossip, but around here, those that do, tell me things.  Including you changing your name to Paul.  Where did that come from?  Saul is a perfectly good name.  Mind you, I wanted to call you Geraint, but your Dad put his foot down.

I'm not being funny now,  but what we’ve been hearing lately has not done much good for my nerves.  Usually, we don't know where you’re to.  You don't come home, even for birthdays.  As a Mam, that hurts.    

But we do see copies of all your letters.  None to me, of course, but loads to a bloke called Timothy and people called the Corinthians and the Ephesians. Honestly,  I've no idea where the Corinthians or the Esphesians live (are they good families?).  Would you like to tell me about Timothy?

But the thing is, butt, having read the letters, I think you’re a bit confused about women.  On the one hand,  it sounds like you’ve got a number of lady friends, Priscilla, Aquila, Lydia and the like.  Fair do’s.  But then you go off on one about women keeping silent in church and  (this is where my blood boils) that women are not permitted to teach or have authority over a man.  

Take it from me, you may be a hero to many, but right now I’m tamping. 


© Gaynor Kavanagh