Luke's Story (5 page)
Authors: Tim Lahaye 7 Jerry B. Jenkins
“Well, thanks for that. I looked that weak, did I?”
“No, I just underestimated your will, Luke. I am impressed. More than impressed. I have learned much about you from this.”
They entered the gate with a couple of hundred yards to go to reach the tent. Luke’s eyes met Saul’s and they shook their heads. “Can’t believe it’s almost over height="6" width="1em">
But before the question was out of Luke’s mouth, from somewhere Saul had mustered the strength to break into a run. He was certainly not sprinting, loping was more like it, but he quickly pulled away from Luke, even though the lad instinctively started running too. Was it possible to catch Saul, despite his surprise head start?
But before the question was out of Luke’s mouth, from somewhere Saul had mustered the strength to break into a run. He was certainly not sprinting, loping was more like it, but he quickly pulled away from Luke, even though the lad instinctively started running too. Was it possible to catch Saul, despite his surprise head start?
Just a hundred yards to go now, and Saul was half that distance ahead. It was hopeless, but still Luke wanted to finish well, so he forced himself to maintain his pace. Little would be gained by slowing now, and he was going to be wholly spent either way.
And as he continued, feeling the strain in every fiber of his body, he looked up to see Saul slow to a stop five yards from the finish and reach out, waiting for him. “We must tie!” Saul said.
Luke grabbed his hand and they staggered across the line together, collapsing in the tent and finding water pitchers. They doused themselves and fell onto cots on either side of the tent.
“I may never rise again,” Luke said, “let alone walk.”
And his new friend chuckled as he panted.
ELEVEN
None of the other participants in the run returned to the tent. They apparently found their way back to their quarters by other routes. Luke and Saul made the mistake of lying inert for too long after so much grueling activity, and when they finally rose, neither could move without much strain.
“I promised to remove this tent tonight,” Saul said, and Luke immediately offered to help. He estimated it took them twice as long as it might have, had it not been for their pain and fatigue.
When they reached Saul’s chambers, which he shared with three other students, Luke spen
t another hour trying to attend to his and Saul’s respective ailments. Both had terribly blistered feet, aching joints and muscles in their legs, sharp pains in their shins, and a general malaise that made them want to merely lie around.
t another hour trying to attend to his and Saul’s respective ailments. Both had terribly blistered feet, aching joints and muscles in their legs, sharp pains in their shins, and a general malaise that made them want to merely lie around.
“You seem to be a physician already,” Saul said, his roommates agreeing.
“This is working?” Luke said, as he applied both warm and cold compresses to his and Saul’s legs. “I feel no better. The cleansing of our feet is probably the best I have done.”
“I didn’t say I felt better,” Saul said. “I just meant that you seem expert. I fear I have damaged myself beyond repair.”
“You might need more than a few hours’ sleep tonight.”
“I’m sleeping already. I’ll be reading in my sleep.”
Despite their commiseration, Luke and Paul dragged themselves off to the library, where they tried to read by torchlight and candlelight, often nodding off in the wee hours.
The next day Luke felt even worse, limping to lectures and apologizing for having fallen behind on his very first day. “You will be wise to catch up quickly if you plthe victims of Saul’s Folly.”
Luke and Saul roared about that later, but both plunged headlong into their academic pursuits and spent much time together over the next several weeks, studying, reading, telling each other about their families and histories, quickly forging a friendship Luke hoped would last.
But there was something troubling about Saul. While he was quick of mind and was generally of good humor, he bore not an ounce of diplomacy. Regardless the issue or topic, he spoke his mind forcefully. And though he was also quick to listen and to see the other sides of arguments, he was unable to change his tone, even when it came to personal matters.
Luke noticed—and could tell that Saul did not—that Saul’s own roommates had taken to merely tolerating him. They never met his eye, made faces behind his back, and in general had stopped engaging him. They merely listened to his opinionated comments on every aspect of the university, the world, and life in general. Often he groused about what he considered the pagan behavior of almost everyone but himself.
One late afternoon a few months into the school year, Luke and Saul finished their evening meal and strolled to the library as the sunlight faded. As they sat near torches and lit reading candles, Saul said, “You know, there are those among my elders, those who are carefully monitoring my progress here, who believe it is unlawful for me to dine with you, Luke.”
“Because I am a Greek? But are you not also a Roman citizen? If you can be a Jew and a Roman, can I not be just a citizen of the world, a being in the universe like you? Why must our differences come between us?”
“Ah, I see the Stoics have reached you, Luke. I too embrace much of what they teach, except where it violates the ancient Scriptures.”
“And I know enough about those texts to know that if you as a Pharisee intend to honor the letter of the law, you
are
transgressing to dine with a Gentile. Even to sit with me, to converse with me, study with me.”
are
transgressing to dine with a Gentile. Even to sit with me, to converse with me, study with me.”
“True, and I don’t know what that will mean for me, for us, in the future, should I become a leader in the synagogue.”
“Are you serious, Saul? Do you feel guilty about associating with me?”
“I do.”
“Do you despise me so much that I am a heathen to you?”
“There is the dilemma, Luke. You know I do not despise you. I love you like a brother. But you
are
, after all, a heathen.”
are
, after all, a heathen.”
“I am no more heathen than you, friend. Neither of us partakes of strong drink, neither is a carouser—though it’s probably fair to say I might prefer to be one. I find you honorable in your speech and behavior. You have not shown a cheater’s heart or a braggart’s or thief’s. You are blunt, I will say that. And if you have a vice it is that you are judgmental.”
Saul looked genuinely surprised. “I am aware that I am forthright, Luke. But is it a judgment call to say a man/i> to imply one who engages in debauchery and violation of his fellow man. Is that how you view me?”
“No, I merely see you as a well-intentioned Gentile.”
“One with whom you are restricted from associating.”
“Technically, yes.”
“Do I cause you to stumble, then, in the practice of your religion?”
“No more than all the other Gentiles here. I don’t know how I am to function on this campus if I am to separate myself from all of you. Almost every educator here is a Gentile and a Stoic besides. I am conflicted, and as I say, the day may come when I might find myself in a position of authority and required to follow the mandates of the law.”
“And then we would no longer be friends?”
For the first time since they had met, Luke noticed Saul hesitate. But his response was chilling. “Then we would no longer be friends.”
Luke rose and strode to a window. “You make me bold enough to speak my mind, because you always do.”
“Yes, please.”
“I’m just wondering. Are we really friends now? Or am I merely a novelty you are tolerating for a season? Can we ever truly be friends if you see me as beneath you?”
Again Saul hesitated, as if he wanted to dispute that. But Luke continued. “Don’t deny it. A Greek, a Gentile, is not worthy of the devout Jew, especially the Pharisee. You see yourselves as not only strict followers of biblical law, but also the final arbiters of it. For the sake of this argument, I am striving to not take that personally. Just acknowledge the truth of it. I am a second-class citizen to you and always will be.”
Saul smiled. “And yet you are so engaging.”
“Do you not see how patronizing that is? To you I am a dog, a pet. You would not consider one human, though you would feed it and scratch behind its ears.”
“Is that what you would wish from me, Luke?”
“You’re still making light of this?”
“Only because I am warmed to see you take so enthusiastically to the discussion.”
“But this has gone from discussion to argument, and now it threatens our very relationship.”
“Then let’s not allow it to, Luke. Let’s enjoy this season at university.”
“As a sort of break from reality?”
“Exactly.”
Luke was not as good at this as Saul was. He was at a loss and could only rush outside into the cool air of the evening, feeling as if he had already lost a friend he had only recently gained. The work at the university was both invigorating and exhausting. He was homesick and missed his master, his friends, his aul and being fascinated by his personality—and character—had made things easier.
But what now? His misgivings, which he had only recently allowed into his consciousness, were being confirmed. He was merely tolerated by Saul. He served as recreation, distraction, a mildly interesting curiosity, in the end unworthy of true friendship.
To Luke’s great relief, here came Saul, seeking him out. “This is not the Luke I know,” he said. “You have not struck me as one who backs away from a discussion, even an argument.”
“Put yourself in my place, Saul. What if you were the one considered heathen, unworthy?”
To Luke’s deep dismay, Saul was apparently unable to hide his dumbfounded look. Clearly he had never allowed himself to even consider himself subservient to any non-Jew. Saul was among the chosen, gifted with a remarkable mind, blessed to have been raised in wealth and taught anything and everything he needed.
“Luke,” Saul cooed, parentally, “you yourself have told me you were born of slaves, raised a slave. Legally you are not even a full-fledged Roman citizen. Would you expect to be the equal of a freeman, a Roman, even if I were not a Pharisee?”
So that was it. He had been presumptuous. He could serve as Saul’s attendant, his sidekick, but never his equal. “Let me say this,” Luke said, “I will not play the sycophant. I can admire you, but I will not worship you.”
Saul fell silent and looked serious. Finally he said, “I do not seek worship. I would that you would worship God.”
“But as a beginning practitioner of Stoicism, I do not believe in myths or gods.”
“I am not speaking of Roman or Greek gods,” Saul said. “I am speaking of Yahweh, God of gods, Lord of lords, maker of heaven and earth, the God of my fathers Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”
Luke shook his head and returned to the library to gather up his things. Saul followed. “What?”
Luke turned on him. “You might as well be speaking a foreign language.”
“I know several. Would you like me to try another?”
“This is not humorous. I can see that you are not just a student of Jewish history, but that you are also a believer.”
“I am more than a believer. I am a Jew.”
“Fine. I am a Stoic.”
“Don’t you see, Luke? You chose a philosophy of life. That’s admirable. But I was born a Jew.”
“And that makes you better than I?”
“I did not say that, but I will say this: God makes us what we are. If you are a true Stoic, you will passively accept the logic that you are who you are and I am what I am.”
Laden with his study materials, Luke strode from the library, strangely warmed to find that Saul seemed to stay thy, he realized that Saul could only fear losing an admirer.
Luke took a somber tone. “Saul, do you have any idea how insulting and demeaning your view is?”
Saul hurried along beside him back to the dormitories. “And your view is that we should be equals.”
“That’s what friends are.”
“No, I aver that that is what a Stoic believes all men are. The sad fact is that it simply isn’t true. My question for you is, can you abide it?”
“Abide what? A pretend friendship with a man who sees himself as my superior?”
“No, the privilege of a season of friendship with a man you would not qualify to engage in any other context.”
Luke stopped and stared. “You truly believe this, don’t you?”
“Truth is what it is. It does not change based on how we view it.”
“Then I suppose you think I am stuck.”
“I know you are,” Saul said. “If you fully embrace Stoicism, you must believe I am your brother. I can condescend to you as I wish or cast you aside based on the laws that bind me, but you must tolerate even this seeming boorishness.”
“Seeming?” Luke said.
And he rushed off into the night.
TWELVE
Luke could not bring himself to seek Saul out, to meet at their prearranged spots, to dine together, to study together, to discuss and argue until late into each night as they had done for so long. How he missed the man and his mind and the exercise of interacting with him! And yet Saul had been as clear as anyone could be. He was a man of God, a chosen one, and while he may have been amused, even impressed by Luke, to him Luke was subhuman.
He saw Saul around, of course. The man was hard to miss. Despite being a first-year student, he had already become one of the most recognizable faces, and voices, on the campus. He inserted himself into student government, held forth on Tarsus politics, commented on religion, sin, and any issue of the day. He debated one and all on their responses to Roman decrees, defended Tarsus’ right to remain a free city, not taxed by Rome despite being under its jurisdiction.
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