“No one really knows what happened to the stuff,” said Steven Fine, a professor of Jewish history at Yeshiva University in New York and the director of the Arch of Titus Project. “There’s a common desire to establish continuity through things — and certainly the visual environment of Rome fosters this.”

Copies of Josephus’s books likely burned in the fire as well, but the texts survived, thanks in large part to Christian scholars who embraced him for his early, impartial (but much disputed) mentions of the historical Jesus — the so-called Testimonium Flavianum — in “Jewish Antiquities.” His fellow Jews, on the other hand, have until recently written Josephus off as a traitor and a Roman sycophant.

Still, 1,917 years after his death around 100 A.D., Josephus remains one the most famous Jews of Rome — best-selling author, confidante of emperors, member of a religious community that was already well-established when he arrived in 71 A.D. — and is still going strong today with families tracing their lineage “da Cesare,” from the time of Caesar.

I reflected on Josephus’s life and legacy as I made a final trek to the Palatine at the end of my stay. The southwest edge of the hill commands an unforgettable view over the Circus Maximus to the skyline beyond, and in the luminous October haze I picked out the distinctive squared-off metallic dome of the Tempio Maggiore — the main Jewish synagogue — and beyond it, the majestic drum of St. Peter’s. Roman, Jewish, Christian: Josephus’s footsteps lead us through the time and place where these three spheres aligned most exuberantly, most surprisingly.