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

by Frank G. Slaughter

Do what you think is right, Luke, and what God tells you in your prayers you should do. But if you feel that you are no longer needed in Macedonia, come back to me. My arms ache to hold you and to feel you close to me.

  Your wife,

  Thecla

  Thecla’s letter filled Luke with joy. His immediate impulse was to leave Corinth by the next boat crossing the narrow neck of the Aegean Sea to join her in Ephesus. It would be better, he realized, to do as Thecla obviously wished to do, join Theophilus in the voyage to Antioch when he took the baby home with him. And if they were going to have children of their own, Thecla would have servants in Antioch to help care for Apollos Lucanus and their child when it came. Bithynia must wait for a more opportune time, and yet he did not postpone their going into the beautiful land which he had seen only once, from the glen where Silvanus was buried, without a twinge of regret. In Antioch there would be controversy, for he knew that the split between the Jews and the Gentiles had never been completely healed, while in the country on the shores of the Pontus Euxinus there would be peace. But when it came to a matter of Thecla’s welfare, his own wishes must always be thrust into the background.

  Luke’s first impulse was to speak to Paul immediately about leaving Corinth, but when he mentioned it to Silas, the older man looked glum. “I would not want to interfere with your plans, Luke,” he said, “but I am afraid the same forces are at work here that have caused trouble for us in Philippi and in Thessalonica.”

  “There are not many Jews in Corinth,” Luke protested.

  “No, but they have a powerful advocate now. Sosthenes, the most influential Jew in all of Macedonia, has come to fight the battle against us.”

  “They have already driven Paul from the synagogue,” Luke pointed out. “Why are they not satisfied with that?”

  “The Corinthians have accepted the truths of Jesus more readily than most of the people we have visited,” Silas explained. “The Jews are afraid that the Christian Church will become more powerful here than they are, but this time I hear they are not trying to get Paul into disfavor with Rome through the usual charge that he preaches Jesus as a king. They will accuse Paul before Gallio of breaking the Jewish law and thus try to convict him as a criminal against the empire for inciting a religious disturbance.”

  Luke frowned. “Have you spoken of this to Paul?”

  Silas shook his head. “Paul is riding the crest of success here in Corinth, so he would not listen to any suggestion that we leave. Corinth is one of the crossroads of the Greek world,” Silas continued. “If Paul develops a great church here, the effects will eventually be felt not only throughout Macedonia but into Mysia and perhaps into Italy itself.”

  “But what can I do?” Luke asked. “I could use my influence with Junius Gallio, but he is entirely honest, and I could not influence him against his better judgment.”

  “Suppose Paul is arrested at the request of this Sosthenes?” Silas said. “Could you go to Gallio and explain the facts of the case?”

  “Of course,” Luke agreed. “But Paul would not like it. He would want to argue his own case.”

  “Stay a little longer, Luke,” Silas begged. “You have helped us out of trouble so many times that I will feel better with you here.”

  Reluctantly Luke agreed, for he knew that Silas spoke the truth. Paul had such a penchant for getting into trouble that cool heads would be needed if the Jews made trouble for him.

  Luke received a message only a few days later, asking him to call upon the proconsul, Junius Gallio, that evening. He had no way of knowing whether the call was a medical one or not, but he tucked his medical case under his arm before he left for the palace of the governor.

  The sun was setting over the Gulf of Corinth as Luke walked through the city. Guardian of the isthmus between Macedonia and the Peloponnesus, Corinth stood securely upon a rock almost in the center of the narrow “bridge of the sea,” as the isthmus was often called. Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar had both projected a canal across the narrowest point of the land bridge, a distance of only a little more than four miles. And in Rome the project was still mentioned frequently in the imperial councils. The geographer Strabo had summed up the reasons for Corinth’s importance when he said that the city “is called wealthy because of its commerce, since it is situated on the isthmus and is master of two harbors, one of which leads straight to Asia, and the other to Italy; and it makes easy the exchange of merchandise from both countries that are so far distant from each other.”

  The shadows of evening were creating their nightly patterns upon the city as Luke climbed from the lower terrace to the upper, an elevation of roughly a hundred feet. In the background to the southwest, the towering mountain called Acro-Corinth pushed fifteen hundred feet above the city and more than eighteen hundred above the sea itself. Here, in the very center of the city, was the agora, the marketplace found in all Greek cities. All day long it was filled with the hum of commerce, the muted obbligato of voices, rumbling vehicles, and animal sounds, which made up the music of a great city’s living. Now the noise of the market was stilled with evening, and instead, queues of pleasure-loving Greeks were already entering the drinking houses, while others moved toward the magnificent Temple of Apollo, rivaling in splendor but in no way equaling the gleaming white Temple of Aphrodite which stood at the very summit of the Acro-Corinth, close beside the Roman citadel dominating the city and protecting it from attack.

  Crossing the agora, Luke passed the elevated platform or rostra, from which the governor was accustomed to hear complaints and even to try serious matters in public, so that the people might see the justice of Rome and realize its fairness and efficiency.

  Gallio had just come from the bath and was in a pleasantly philosophical mood before his dinner. “I sent for you,” he told Luke, “because this Jew Sosthenes has demanded that I arrest your friend Paul for preaching a new religion.”

  “The Jews have caused us a great deal of trouble in almost every city we have visited,” Luke admitted.

  “But why?” Gallio asked. “Paul is a Jew and the Nazarene he follows was a Jew. There are many Jewish sects, such as the Pharisees, the Sadducees, and the Essenes, but none of them cause much trouble among the Jews. Yet everywhere you Christians go, trouble explodes.”

  “I think it is a matter of interpretation, sir,” Luke explained. “Paul and the Christians among the Jews believe that Christ was the Messiah promised by the Jewish prophets for thousands of years and the true Son of God. But the Jews believed the Messiah would be a great leader or king who would lead them in earthly conquest, so they will not accept so lowly a person as Jesus. They fight Paul because he preaches that Jesus came for a different purpose—to save them through His death.”

  “I have been studying this Christian faith,” Gallio admitted, “since you first explained it to me in Antioch, Luke. But frankly, I still do not understand this talk about the Nazarene’s dying to save others. It sounds very much like the metaphysical concepts of the Mithraeans and the followers of Dionysius.”

  “It is an interpretation which Paul has put upon the life of Jesus himself,” Luke explained. “He teaches that those who believe Jesus to be the Son of God and that He was resurrected from the dead will be freed from sin and given eternal life, and that the blood of Jesus, like the blood of the bull in the taurobolium of the Mithraeans, cleanses them of sin. But it is only a belief. As you say, the Jewish religion has long been divided into sects, so the Christian faith, as far as Jews are concerned, is no new religion, but merely a different form of the ordinary Jewish worship of Jehovah.”

  Gallio looked at the young physician keenly. “One thing I have never been able to understand fully, Luke. You are a Greek and a member of one of the most powerful families in the empire. Why do you follow Jesus?”

  “I follow Him because His principles seem to me to be the only way through which men can find peace and a r
eal purpose in life,” Luke said simply.

  “But you have been whipped and beaten with rods. Surely you cannot call that peace.”

  Luke smiled then. “Paul calls it the ‘peace of God, which surpasses all understanding.’ Actually it is an inner feeling of purpose, a pride in what you are doing even in the face of adversity, which comes only to those who follow in the Way of Jesus.”

  “What shall I do about Paul then?” Gallio asked. “They are making a continual howl for his arrest.”

  “I think you should arrest him, sir.”

  Gallio stared at him. “But why?”

  “Are you satisfied now that the controversy is merely one of opinion between different sects in the worship of Jehovah?”

  “Yes,” Gallio admitted. “Actually I had arrived at that conclusion before I talked to you, but I see it much more clearly now.”

  “Your opinion carries great weight throughout the empire,” Luke pointed out. “If Paul is arrested and you rule that the Christian faith is a sect within the Jewish religion, the way would be made clear for Paul to keep on with his teachings without being hauled into the Roman courts by Jews in every city he visits.”

  “Most of our law codes are based on just such decisions,” Gallio agreed. “Very well then. I will let your friend be taken. And if ever I am in the toils of the law, Luke,” he added with a smile, “I hope I have an advocate who is half as eloquent as you are.”

  Paul’s arrest came the next day as Gallio had promised. Luke had said nothing to Paul of his summons by Gallio, and Paul made no objection to the arrest. In fact, Luke suspected that the apostle welcomed an opportunity to defend himself before this most famous of Roman judges.

  The trial was held a few days later, and a vast crowd filled the agora long before it was to take place. The Jews in Corinth were relatively small in number and not well liked by the Greeks, so there was little sentiment against Paul. Most of the people came out of curiosity to see this fellow who caused such a commotion wherever he went and to hear the decision of their new proconsul in regard to him.

  Luke stood close to the rostra, with Silas and Timothy beside him. Trumpets announced the coming of the governor, and a lane was made through the crowd to let him reach the rostra. A dozen brawny legionnaires came first, clearing the way. Junius Gallio rode in a sedan chair, for his gout did not permit much walking, with the petty officials of the court and the lictors with their fasces bringing up the rear. Paul walked among the lictors, unmanacled, his head lifted proudly and his eyes burning with an exalted light. When Gallio mounted the platform and took his seat on the thronelike chair of the judge, Paul was directed to stand one step below him, about ten feet away from Luke and the others.

  A clerk stepped forward, unrolling a scroll from which he read in a pompous voice: “‘Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, Pontifex Maximus, of Tribunitian authority for the twelfth time, Imperator the twenty-sixth time, Father of the Country, Consul for fifth time, honorable, greets the city of Corinth through his friend, Junius Gallio, Governor of the Province of Achaia. In order that justice may be given freely to all, Junius Gallio this day holds court in the agora of Corinth, to hear complaints against those said to have broken the laws of the empire.’”

  The clerk put down the first scroll and took up a second. “‘Sosthenes, of the synagogue of the Jews in this city, speaks this day against one Paul, lately of Tarsus, saying that he breaks the laws of Rome by inducing people to worship foreign gods forbidden by Roman law. He claims further that this same Paul leads people to worship the God of the Jews in a manner which violates their own law.’”

  Junius Gallio said, “Let Sosthenes come forward and explain these charges so that we may decide of what, if anything, the prisoner Paul is guilty.”

  A plump Jew stepped upon the lower platform of the rostra where Paul stood, and bowed. “Most noble Proconsul,” he began, “we know how the reputation of the judge, Junius Gallio, has spread throughout the empire of Rome and that in all countries who give allegiance to the emperor none is so revered in the administration of justice.”

  “My qualifications are not in question,” Gallio cut him off sharply. “With what crime do you charge this man?”

  Sosthenes was obviously taken aback by the jurist’s manner, and a murmur of amusement ran through the crowd at his discomfiture. But he quickly recovered his dignity. “This man Paul teaches that the ancient laws of the Jewish people concerning diet and circumcision should be put aside.”

  “Are there other sects among the Jews who have given up these laws?” Gallio asked.

  “Some no longer follow the rules of clean and unclean foods,” Sosthenes admitted. “But all Jews must be circumcised.”

  “Does this Paul urge Jews to do away with their laws in this respect?” Gallio asked.

  “He has never been heard to do so,” Sosthenes admitted. “But he does advocate such for Gentiles.”

  “Would you force all Gentiles to be circumcised?” Gallio demanded sarcastically. “I have talked to your high priest in Jerusalem, but I never heard of such a thing.”

  “N-no,” Sosthenes stammered. “We do not advocate that.”

  “Paul invites those not of Jewish blood to worship one whom you Jews consider your private God,” Gallio said severely, “so you seek to have him imprisoned by Rome. Yet you claim your God to be above others. Would you refuse everyone else the right to worship Him?”

  Sosthenes, seeing that the case was going badly against him, tried another tack. “Paul claims that Jesus of Nazareth is the promised Messiah of the Jewish people,” he argued. “A fact which is disputed by the high priest in Jerusalem.”

  Gallia shrugged. “Is this the Messiah promised to the Jews in your ancient writings?”

  Sosthenes admitted that this was true.

  “What rule is there to determine when He has come, or who He is when He does come?”

  “He will come as a king to rule over the Jewish people,” Sosthenes stated. “When Paul says that Jesus of Nazareth is the Messiah and will one day come to rule over the Jews, he breaks the laws of Rome.”

  “I am the judge of who breaks the laws of Rome,” Gallio reminded the Jewish leader. “Do you assure me that this Jesus was not the Messiah promised by your ancient writings?”

  “The Sanhedrin at Jerusalem has ruled that He is not,” Sosthenes declared triumphantly.

  Gallio smiled, and too late Sosthenes realized the trap into which he had been led. “Then since Jesus has officially been declared not to be the Messiah, no Roman law has been broken. Paul merely states his own beliefs, which you deny. I will admit that there is a quarrel between you, but there is none with the authority of Rome.”

  “B-but when he preaches that the Nazarene will return as king—”

  “Has He returned?” Gallio demanded. “Does Paul claim that He lives now on earth?”

  “N-no.”

  “Then you have no case.” Gallia struck the arm of his chair with the jeweled miniature of the fasces which he carried as a token of his office. “If it were some misdemeanor or underhanded rascality, O Jews, with which you charge this man Paul, I would in reason listen to you. But as it is a question about words and titles and your own law, you will have to see to it yourselves. I refuse to act as judge in these matters.” He pounded again on the arm of his chair with the fasces. “The prisoner may go free, and henceforth let no man accuse him unjustly for crimes he has not done.”

  A mighty roar of approval rose from the crowd. The Greeks, who had witnessed with high glee the discomfiture of the Jewish prosecutor, began to crowd around Sosthenes, pummeling him with their fists, but Gallio paid no attention to them. “You are free,” he said kindly to Paul. “Go your way henceforth in peace. The Jews will trouble you no more by accusing you of breaking Roman law.”

  Paul seemed unable to understand that the trial was over.
“But my defense,” he started to say.

  “You needed no defense,” Gallio told him. “Luke has already informed me about the truth of these matters. I would have released you at once, but it seemed best to have a public hearing and dispel for all times these things of which the Jews accuse you.”

  Luke heard Gallio’s words and saw the color slowly drain from Paul’s face. Suddenly he turned away. He had intended for Paul to be vindicated and his mission given the seal of approval by Rome’s most famous judge. Those things had happened, but Paul had looked upon the trial as a heaven-sent opportunity to lecture the Greeks upon his beliefs and his position as apostle to the Gentiles. Instead, Paul’s pride had been wounded, and Luke knew from previous occasions what that meant. Such a wound had caused the break with Peter and with Barnabas and had sent John Mark away from them.

  And yet Luke could not see how he had acted wrongly. The decision of Gallio would almost certainly go down in history as an endorsement of the right of Paul to preach his beliefs without opposition from the Roman Empire itself, relegating the controversy between him and the Jewish hierarchy at Jerusalem to the status of a conflict within the scope of the Jewish religion. That in itself was an important step for the Christian faith, unshackling as it were, one of the fetters which had restrained its free spread before.

  Luke was almost certain, too, that this important purpose could not have been accomplished had Paul spoken in his own defense. For Paul’s often mystical concepts of Jesus and His place on earth could easily have been construed, as they had been again and again, as the ambition to set up another earthly ruler with divine powers. Since the Roman emperors considered themselves divine, to advocate such a King was a serious crime, one for which Paul might easily have been executed by Rome.

  It was an hour or more before Luke returned to the house beside the synagogue where they were staying, but he found a tense group awaiting him. Silas and Timothy sat in one corner of the room, looking very unhappy. Paul was pacing up and down, his face flushed and his eyes fiery. Hardly had Luke come into the room when he lashed out at him. “By what right did you speak to Gallio before the trial, Luke?” he demanded.