The Road to Bithynia: A Novel of Luke, the Beloved Physician

by Frank G. Slaughter

  Whether from the shock of this unexpected turning of his plans against him, or because in his disturbed state his mind was temporarily controlled by the suggestion of Probus that he was blind—or indeed he may have been stricken blind from above—Elymas did indeed totter and would have fallen had not John Mark taken him by the hand and led him a few steps away from the now useless altar.

  The crowd heard Paul’s words and saw the sorcerer’s gropings. When Mark led him away they believed Elymas to be truly blind, and a moan of fear soughed through the vale. Those at the front fell on their knees before Paul, while others, terror-stricken, tried to force their way through the crowd in the hope of escaping from this powerful new god who had so dramatically vanquished the famous Aphrodite. A serious riot could have developed in a few seconds but Paul now stepped into the breach, turning the full force of his eloquence upon the thousands who had gathered to see Aphrodite triumph over the false god but had instead seen evidence of a power never before dreamed of. His voice held them, calming their fears while in simple telling phrases he used the events they had just witnessed as evidence of the power of God. For more than an hour Paul continued to talk, and when he finished hundreds were kneeling and praying before him. Afterward the streets around the house of Barnabas’s brother were jammed with people who came to hear and believe the new faith. Most prominent of all the many converts made in Paphos was Sergius Paulus, the Roman proconsul.

  III

  With their mission in Cyprus accomplished and a strong Christian church established at Paphos, the missionary party sailed from that city to Perga, the nearest port on the mainland of Lesser Asia to Cyprus and the shortest and safest voyage in these days of subsiding winter storms. Past the bold promontories of Drepanum and Acamas their small vessel moved across the quiet waters of the Pamphylian Sea toward the great bay of Attaleia. Into this deep depression in the coast line emptied the waters of the river Catarrhactes—so named because it tumbled over high sea cliffs to fall into the bay itself—as well as the more conventionally ending Cestrus and Eurymedon. Some sixty stadia—a little more than seven Roman miles—up the river Cestrus, they came upon the city of Perga and docked in the very shadow of the great Temple of Diana for which the seaport city was famous.

  One member of the party, however, was far from happy. John Mark had come on the expedition with great enthusiasm, seeing in it an opportunity for a far greater service than merely acting as secretary to Peter and the elders at Jerusalem. But Paul’s antagonism toward him had increased rather than lessened on the journey. In fact, after their dramatic experience at Paphos, Paul’s relationship with the entire party had somehow changed. At first big, patient, and generous Barnabas had been the leader of their mission, as he had been the leader of the church at Antioch. But Paul had raised the conflict in Paphos by accepting the challenge of Elymas and as he had done in Caesarea after the dramatic death of Herod Agrippa, seemed to interpret the blinding of Elymas as a personal accolade from God, ignoring the part which Probus had played. Gradually he became more authoritative in his manner and speech, and rather than bring dissension once more into the group when it was achieving such marked success, Barnabas allowed himself to be pushed into the background, until Paul was now the acknowledged leader of the missionary group.

  Matters came to a head when Mark found a letter from Peter waiting for him at the synagogue in Perga. Peter, the letter stated, was now active in the work of the Church once more and was planning to visit Antioch and several other cities to see for himself the great work which was being accomplished for the Way of Christ. He asked that Mark return to join him in Antioch and resume the duties of his secretary in order to set down the messages which he was bringing to the new churches outside Jerusalem.

  Peter had every right to inspect the activities of the Church anywhere, for Jesus had delegated to him the leadership of the disciples, but when Mark read the letter to them Paul’s face took on an angry cast. “Why should Peter come to Antioch, Barnabas?” he demanded peremptorily.

  “It is his right, Paul. We all know that the mantle of Jesus descended upon him.”

  “It was agreed in Jerusalem that we should preach to the Gentiles and Peter to the Jews.”

  “There are many Jews in Antioch,” Barnabas pointed out reasonably. “And you and I are Jews, Paul. Don’t forget that.”

  “I am neither Jew nor Gentile,” Paul said sharply. “When God picked me for His work I gave up everything else.”

  “Why does it make any difference if Peter visits Antioch?” Barnabas said. “We are all engaged in God’s work.”

  Paul made a gesture of impatience. “I will not have Peter or anyone else interfering with my mission. He is not the only one called by God.”

  Watching the conflict between the two, Luke wondered why Paul was so disturbed. Could it be that he envied Peter the fact that he had walked with Jesus and had been chosen leader of the disciples after the crucifixion? Certainly Paul’s anger now and his hostility toward Mark, who had been so close to Peter, fitted such a pattern. But Paul had no real right to envy Peter, for he had never seen the Master himself.

  Paul wheeled suddenly upon Mark. “Why did Peter write you?” he demanded. “Why not me? Or Barnabas?”

  “Peter wrote because he wants Mark to join him again,” Barnabas pointed out reasonably. “After all, Mark was with Peter for a long time.”

  “Then let Mark join him again,” Paul said curtly. “We can go on without him.”

  Mark’s cheeks crimsoned with humiliation and his mouth quivered from the hurt, for he was very sensitive. Remembering his own feeling when Paul had lashed out at him after his visit to Sergius Paulus, Luke instinctively put out his hand to comfort him. But another voice broke the awkward silence. “I will return to Antioch with Mark,” Probus said, “since Paul has no appreciation for the efforts of others.”

  Paul wheeled upon him angrily. “Did God call you—?” He was starting on the now familiar tirade, when Luke interrupted. “Even Jesus called disciples to help Him with His works, Paul,” he said. “Do you set yourself above the Master, that none but you can serve Him well?”

  Paul stiffened as if he had been slapped in the face, and the color slowly drained from his cheeks. For a long moment he did not speak, and Luke was almost sorry he had spoken, for he saw the agony in Paul’s eyes. When Paul did speak his voice was humble. “You are right, Luke, he said. “No one of us who serves Jesus can be puffed up over the others, for He humiliated Himself so far as to die the most shameful of deaths for our sake. Forgive me, my brothers, if in my zeal I have been impatient. We will all go on together.”

  “Let Mark go back to Antioch,” Barnabas suggested. “Peter needs him and Mark can carry word of the great victories we have achieved for Christ in Cyprus, so that all who serve Him will be encouraged to labor on.”

  Mark and Probus departed a few days later. Paul wished to remain in Perga for a while, but with summer coming on Luke was afraid the heat of the lowlands might bring on Paul’s fever again and suggested that they should do as the people of that region did in the spring and journey to the uplands where the air was cool and sweet. In the end Paul agreed when Luke pointed out that if the apostle became sick for several months from the recurring fever, as had happened on his return from Jerusalem, their cause would be crippled.

  The travelers reached Antioch-in-Pisidia, their immediate destination in the Galatian uplands, on the day before the Jewish Sabbath and found lodging at an inn. Looking over this city through which he had passed twice before, Luke found little change. Although the Camp of Mars outside the city itself was now deserted, the eagles of Rome were still prominently displayed, for this Roman colonia sat astride the great trade routes between the East and the West and was in contact with both. As in all cities ruled directly from Rome, there was freedom of religious worship to established religions, and the synagogue of the Jews in this smaller Antioch stood ju
st off the Augusta Platea in the center of the city. On the morning of the Sabbath, Paul and Barnabas attended the services in this synagogue, as was their custom in all cities they visited. And although not a Jew, Luke went with them, for Gentile believers in the Jewish God were welcome in the synagogues, and he was curious to see how the travelers would be received in this Roman city.

  The arrangements were generally the same in all Jewish houses of worship, the men sitting upon benches on the main floor of the building, the women restricted to a gallery protected by a wooden latticing. A pulpit stood in the center, and on one side of the building, toward the Holy City of Jerusalem, was the closed ark in which were kept the manuscripts of the law, the Torah. Some few benches were placed at a higher level, making a place of honor for the “rulers of the synagogue,” men who by learning, age, or unusual piety had earned the respect of the congregation.

  When they entered the synagogue Paul and Barnabas placed over their shoulders the scarf-like embroidered tallith which marked them as Jews and gave them the right to speak before the assembly. The building was almost filled, and shortly the service began.

  First prayers were recited in Hebrew by an old man, the “apostle” of the congregation. Next the scrolls of the law were handed to the “reader” by the chazan and a long reading began in Hebrew, followed by a translation into Greek, for many of the younger Jews in these Greek cities had never seen Judea and the temple. Several centuries before, the books of Jewish law and the teachings of the prophets had been translated into everyday Greek as the Septuagint. Then with great ceremony the scrolls were rolled up again and returned to the ark.

  Throughout the ceremony Luke had noticed the eyes of the congregation turning frequently to Paul and Barnabas, but there was nothing unusual in that. With his great size and red beard, the majestic Barnabas was always a center of attention, and Paul’s godlike head and the play of emotions upon his mobile features also set him apart. Now, having returned the scrolls to the ark, the chazan came over to where they sat and said courteously, “Brothers, if you have any message of encouragement for the people, you may speak.”

  By consent between Paul and Barnabas it was Paul who rose on such occasions. He went to the pulpit where all might see him and, standing there in the center of the congregation, turned slowly, facing them all in turn, his eyes glowing with the fervor which always gripped him when he spoke of the Way. Then he lifted his hands, almost as if he were welcoming the people to his embrace, and began to speak. The audience was spellbound from the very first words, for here in the essence was what Paul believed and taught, the truths which he was firmly convinced were revealed to him first on the road to Damascus and with which he hoped to bring all men to belief in Jesus and His Way:

  “Fellow Israelites and you who reverence God, listen! The God of this people of Israel chose our forefathers, and made this people important during their stay in Egypt, and then with an uplifted arm He led them out of it. Then after He had fed them forty years in the desert, He destroyed several nations in Canaan and gave them their land as an inheritance for about four hundred and fifty years. And after that He gave them judges until the time of Samuel, the prophet.”

  This was a story the Jews of the congregation had all heard many times, for the history of their people was read to them frequently. But there was no an impatient move in all of the synagogue, so great was the force of Paul’s vibrant voice and personality.

  “Then they demanded a king and for forty years God gave them Saul, the son of Cis, a man of the tribe of Benjamin. Then he deposed him and raised up for them David to be king, to whom he bore this testimony, ‘I have found David the son of Jesse, a man after My own heart, who will do all My will.’ It is from this man’s descendants that God, as He promised, has brought Israel a Savior in the person of Jesus, as John, before His coming, had already preached baptism as an expression of repentance for all the people of Israel. As John was closing his career he said, ‘Who do you think I am? I am not He. But behold, there comes One after me, the sandals of whose feet I am not worthy to loose.’”

  A rustle of interest passed through the congregation, and Luke understood now Paul’s purpose in this account of what was to his listeners an old, old story. He was specifically identifying Jesus as the Savior and Messiah promised by God to the Jews.

  “Brothers,” Paul continued, “descendants of the race of Abraham, and all among you who reverence God, it is to us that this message of salvation has been sent. For the people of Jerusalem and their leaders, because they were ignorant of Him, by condemning Him have actually fulfilled the utterances of the prophets which are read every Sabbath, and although they could not find Him guilty of a capital offense, they begged Pilate to have Him put to death. When they had carried out everything which had been written in the Scriptures about Him, they took Him down from the cross and laid Him in a tomb.”

  The speaker stopped for a moment and looked around, watching the intent faces looking up at him. When he spoke again, his words pounded at them, driving the truths home.

  “But God raised Him from the dead, and for many days He appeared to those who had come up with Him from Galilee to Jerusalem, and they are now witnesses for Him to the people. So now we are bringing you the good news about the promise that was made to our forefathers, that God has fulfilled it to us, their children, by raising Jesus to life. Just as the Scripture says in the second Psalm, ‘You are My Son, today I have begotten You.’ So, my brothers, you must understand that through Him the forgiveness of your sins is now proclaimed to you, and that through union with Him every one of you who believes is given right standing with God and freed from every charge from which you could not be freed by the law of Moses.”

  For a long moment after Paul finished speaking there was no sound in the synagogue. Then the chazan asked, “What is your name, brother?”

  “I am called Paul.” And then he added proudly, “But once I was called Saul of Tarsus, until Jesus spoke to me on the road to Damascus and I was blinded by Him so that when I regained my sight I knew that I had seen the glory of the Lord.”

  The speech brought a low rustle of words from the congregation as neighbor whispered to neighbor that this was indeed the same Saul who had persecuted the Nazarene sect but had then turned his coat and joined them. When the service was over, they left the synagogue, but so great was the press of people following them that Paul was forced to stop in the street outside to speak to them again. Climbing upon a cart, he continued to lecture the crowd, amplifying the simple truths of the Christian faith which he had expounded in the temple.

  As on previous occasions in Antioch and Paphos, Paul’s teaching appealed greatly to the people, and a great crowd followed him and Barnabas as they moved about the city, speaking from street corners, by the pools where the women went to get water from the Roman aqueduct, in the eating places, and everywhere that people gathered. Luke, as usual, devoted himself to healing the sick, giving unstintingly of his knowledge and skill to the poor of the city, and buying medicines with money from his own purse for those who could not pay.

  On the following Sabbath, Paul was eager to return to the synagogue and continue his address to the Jews there, but as they approached the building a great crowd barred all entrance to it, until Paul was recognized and a path made for him to the door. “Behold!” the chazan said to Paul accusingly. “The house of God is filled with Gentiles and proselytes, so that the chosen people of the Most High cannot enter.”

  This was a bad situation, Luke recognized, for the Jews were very jealous of the exclusiveness of their God, keeping themselves aloof from the Gentiles in their worship. And for the hated “unclean and uncircumcised” to push their way into the synagogue to hear Paul, denying the Jews their own place of worship, was especially humiliating to a proud people.

  “Since so many Gentiles have come to hear you,” the chazan suggested, “why do you not leave the synagogue to the Jews
and address these unclean ones outside?”

  The familiar stubborn light began to glow in Paul’s eyes as he took the tallith he carried and draped it over his shoulders. “I am a Jew,” he said proudly. “It is my right under the law to speak in the synagogue.”

  “It is as you say,” the chazan admitted reluctantly. “The law gives you the right to speak.”

  Paul turned to the crowd. “Be patient a little while, my brothers,” he called to them. “When I have worshipped in the manner of my people, I will come again and speak to you.”

  Inside the synagogue the atmosphere was far different from the previous Sabbath. Now the faces occupying the elevated benches reserved for the “rulers of the synagogue” were hostile, and a murmur of anger ran through the congregation as Paul took his place and the service began. A week ago when he had spoken of the coming of the Messiah promised by God to the Jews, these people had listened with willing hearts, but now there was no welcome for him. Upon the street corners and in other public places throughout the city Paul had preached that Jesus died as much for Gentiles as for Jews. But the Jews for centuries had prided themselves upon the favor of their God, Jehovah, and upon their role as His chosen people even through times of persecution and dispersion. When Paul promised the same benefits to others, even to the “unclean,” the inherited pride of the Jewish people in regard to their religion had triumphed and turned them against the newcomers.

  When the Torah was put away in the ark and the time came for the congregation to be addressed by any visitors who wished to speak, it became evident that the chazan did not intend to offer that privilege to Paul. He had begun to dismiss the congregation with the customary benediction, but Paul leaped to his feet. “You Jews of Antioch,” he cried, “I would speak to you again of that which I mentioned on the previous Sabbath—”