“Paul! I’m on my way down!”
“Praise God!”
Primus helped Luke down first and dropped him the satchel. Luke lit his lamp and embraced Paul, and they stood together watching Primus slowly lower Mark through the opening. He rushed to Paul and fell into his arms.
Paul wept and prayed and exulted over his friend. “And you were able to find all my things?”
“Everything. I brought it all.”
“Even your own account? You can read it to me?”
“I’ll be pleased to, Paul, but I know what you want most of all.”
“Just knowing my parchments are here is enough for now.”
“Since when have your writings been private? We copy your letters and take them all over the world. Timothy is even having your last letter copied.”
“With my permission, though that wasn’t my intent.”
“Everyone benefits, Paul. The brethren in all the churches are encouraged by your letters only slightly less than if you joined them in person.”
Paul sighed and sat, whispering to Mark of the danger to the brethren contained in his memoir. “I will leave them in Luke’s custody and trust his judgment about who should see them.”
Mark nodded with a knowing look. “You don’t want me to see what you have written about me.”
“Not until I’m gone. But you have seen my latest letter to Timothy, so you know I speak well of you to all. Now I want you to read to me from your account of the Master.”
While Mark was finding it among his things, Luke whispered, “Paul, have you been able to talk with Primus?”
“Some. He always looks about, worried his comrades are listening. I believe he has a soft heart, Luke. You must keep in touch with him after I’m gone. He greatly admires you.”
“We have become friends.”
Luke held the lamp as Mark sat next to Paul on the stone bench and spread out his gospel. He began:
The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
As it is written in the Prophets:
“Behold, I send My messenger before Your face,
Who will prepare Your way before You.”
“The voice of one crying in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord; make His paths straight.’”
John came baptizing in the wilderness and preaching a baptism of repentance for the remission of sins. Then all the land of Judea, and those from Jerusalem, went out to him and were all baptized by him in the Jordan River, confessing their sins.
Now John was clothed with camel’s hair and with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. And he preached, saying, “There comes One after me who is mightier than I, whose sandal strap I am not worthy to stoop down and loose.
“I indeed baptized you with water, but He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
It came to pass in those days that Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee, and was baptized by John in the Jordan …
Luke could not remember Paul ever looking so content, so fulfilled, so rapturous.
11
Love Story
JORDAN
ONE YEAR PRIOR
Sofia had saved a place for Augie at dinner that night at the hotel near Petra. Though he had to fight to suppress a smile, he kept things polite and formal with her—which seemed to amuse her too.
“By the way, you’re off the hook for the climb to the high place,” she said. “I couldn’t walk another step. Sorry. I appreciate it. And I really wanted to see Petra from up there, but—.”
He held up a hand. “I know you’re beat. But it would mean a lot to me if you’d come. I promise you won’t regret it.”
She lowered her chin and narrowed her eyes. “You’re serious. Well, if it’s that important to you ….”
“It is.”
“And if you want to give me a piggyback ride there and back ….”
He laughed. “I’ll at least find us a ride to the base of the climb.”
“And what’s my guarantee? You promised I wouldn’t regret it. What if I do?”
“Then I’ll never do it again.”
Her smile and laugh made Augie feel her look had been created for his pleasure.
When dinner was over, Augie and Roger stood at the door as people filed out, thanking them for the week. When the Trikoupises reached them and were talking with Roger, Augie whispered to Sofia, “We’ll have to hurry to beat the crowds. I just have to run to my room for my flashlight and a jacket. You’ll want a sweater or something.”
“It’s still in the 90s out there.”
“Suit yourself” Got to admire a woman with her own mind.
“Now that’s what I call a flashlight,” Sofia said a few minutes later when Augie showed up with a boxy contraption that emitted about ten times the light of a standard one. He also had two bottles of water and had tied a hooded sweatshirt around his waist.
They hurried across the road, past the souvenir shops—most still open—and finally reached the long expanse that led to the Siq, the mile-long, narrow gorge into ancient Petra. There Augie hired a horse-drawn carriage to take them directly to the base of the high place. As soon as they crowded into the back, they were off, bouncing and jostling, Augie fighting to keep from landing in Sofia’s lap. He loved her giggle.
Finally they reached the Siq, where crowds had gathered, and soon the shambling carriage was the only conveyance in sight.
“Oh, Augie!” Sofia said, “it’s beautiful!”
The entire length of the narrow passageway, lit by the sky during the day but pitch black at night, had been lined with candles stuck inside paper bags. The eerie pink glow reflecting off the red-rock walls guided them all the way to the end, where they found hundreds more of the lights scattered before the treasury building and throughout the city.
“It’s called Petra at Night,” Augie said. “And you can see why so many people line up to experience it.”
“I sure can, but I wouldn’t want to do this on foot. Those people must think we’re royalty.”
“Aren’t we? I thought you were Helen of Troy. That makes me Brad Pitt. Or something.”
At the base of the high place Augie told her, “You can go first and I’ll shine the light on the path from behind you. It’s steep and can be treacherous, but just keep moving. When you need a break to catch your breath, let me know.” He pointed the flashlight at their destination high in the distance. “It’ll take a while, but we can do it. Just stay close.”
When she started up, Augie was impressed by the muscles in her long legs. “I think I’d rather shine the light on you,” he said.
“Dr. Knox! We don’t know each other that well.”
“I’ll behave.”
Sofia stopped occasionally, bending at the waist and resting her palms on her bare thighs, breathing deeply.
“You okay?” Augie said, offering her a bottle of water.
“Just need to refuel.” She drank deeply and started up again.
“Hey,” Augie said, “before you get too far, look down.”
Sofia turned and gasped, scanning the ancient city lit by all the candles. “That may be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“And you come from one gorgeous country. I promised you wouldn’t regret this.”
“No matter what, I won’t. Bet you wish you weren’t weighed down by that sweatshirt. I’m sweating.”
“We’re not at the top yet, girl.”
Sofia gave him a funny look. “Well, then let’s get going, boy.”
Augie took the lead. He had always found the last part of the climb the toughest, and he was relieved to finally get to flat ground and reach back to help her up. He led her to an outcropping where she sat on a rock to catch her breath. “When you’re ready, I’ll show you the altars,” he said. “You’ll see where the blood of the animals drained, where they put the coals, everything.”
Sofia lowered her head and breathed deeply. Finally sh
e stood, hands on her hips. “I’m so glad you talked me into this. You can say, ‘I told you so.’”
“Just happy you’re enjoying it,” he said, shining the light in her face, making her cover her eyes. “You have the best smile.”
“You make me smile,” she said.
After he showed her the altars he shone the light down into the valleys.
“I could stay here all night,” she said.
“You’d be lonely.”
“You’d leave me here?”
“It’s been a long week,” he said. “I need my sleep.”
She laughed, then crossed her arms and rubbed her biceps. “Oh, no! I didn’t want you to be right.”
“About?”
“Now that I’m up here, I’m cooling off.”
Augie set the light down and pulled the sweatshirt off his waist. “No, that’s yours,” she said. “You planned ahead. I didn’t.”
“Don’t be silly,” he said, slipping behind her and draping it around her shoulders. “I brought it for you anyway.”
“You did not.”
“I did,” he said, turning her to face him. “My thermostat runs high.”
She relaxed as he helped get her arms into the sleeves. The sweatshirt enveloped her and the long sleeves hid her hands. He zipped it to her neck and put his hands on her shoulders. “Better?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
And in that instant Augie pictured Sofia with him forever. The vision raced through his mind, their waking together, eating together, going to church together, raising a family. The scenes were as clear as day and stunned him speechless. In the shadowy light he gently cupped her face. “You know, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right here right now.”
He drew her face toward his, and as their lips met she wrapped her arms around him. When he pulled back they stood gazing at each other, inches apart. “August Knox,” she said, “I was not expecting that.”
“Need I apologize?”
“You’d better not. All the way up here I was planning what I was going to say when we reached the top. Like what a great guide you are. How smart. How wonderful with people. How passionate about these places and about your faith.”
“Okay, I’m listening.”
“That’s not what I want to say anymore. I want to say what you said, about not wanting to be anywhere else.”
He drew her close again and they held each other tight. “Have we started something?” he said.
“I sure hope so,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.
He pulled back. “Tears?”
“I’m already missing you, Augie. We fly home tomorrow. When will I see you again?”
“As soon as I can arrange a trip to Athens.”
12
Precious Gems
FIRST-CENTURY ROME
Luke was sorry to see Mark go, especially after the lift he had given Paul. But with Paul’s memoir waiting, Luke didn’t mind having the old missionary all to himself again. The writings had the potential to be priceless. Paul had never penned a simple letter to a friend or a church without loading it with truth so poignant and beautifully written that the whole of the body of believers benefitted from it. Better than that, Paul’s thoughts and reasoning seemed to be born of his rich relationship with Christ. He wrote with an urgency and authority that amazed and thrilled his readers. Would his memoir prove any less?
That evening in the dungeon Paul riffled through the parchments, asking Luke to move the light higher. Finally he pulled a huge sheaf of sheets from the rest and handed them to Luke. “We must not wait any longer. Take these and start reading them. Guard them with your life, and bring them back to me. I need your counsel. We need to talk these through, make certain they are accurate, complete, and most of all meaningful.”
Luke tucked the documents away and rushed to Primus’ home as if bearing precious gems. His body ached from the fatigue of the day, but his mind was alive. In his room he disrobed, then wrapped himself in his cloak and sat at his table, lamp lit, parchments stacked before him. He lifted the first and tipped it toward the light.
13
The Offer
TEXAS
WEDNESDAY, MAY 7, 7:55 P.M.
Augie Knox stood outside his dying father’s room in the ICU, preoccupied with getting out of town. Growing up, had it not been for the oasis of his mother’s gentle spirit, he would have died of thirst in the desert of his father’s indifference.
Edsel Knox was widely respected, a precise, articulate, brilliant theologian. But nothing of the truth of what he knew so thoroughly seemed to reach his heart. He could explain anything. He seemed able to personally experience nothing. Despite all this, Marie Knox spoke lovingly to him and about him, caressed him, held his hand.
At home he was a roiling cauldron of silence. Jokes were anathema. Never a smile. Never a kind word. Not even a thank you for dinner. He was not a TV watcher but rather a reader. When not studying theology, he read history. Before bed it was word games.
Edsel rose at the same time every morning, six days a week, shaved, showered, dressed, ate, left, and returned late every afternoon like clockwork. Even on Saturday he spent the day at his office. Sunday he went to services morning and night, napping in the afternoon.
Augie hated to think what he might have become had his mother not been, in essence, both parents to him. Yet he could never elicit one disparaging comment from her about his father. She defended her husband, spoke lovingly of him, and said she felt privileged to help him to be the man of the Word that he was. Man of the Word maybe, Augie thought, but no man of God.
Had his parents ever—even in the distant past—enjoyed a magical experience like Augie and Sofia enjoyed at the high place in Petra? His father’s reaction to the news of Augie’s engagement was simply, “You think they’re going to let their daughter marry so far out of her class?”
His mother said, “August is good enough for anybody.”
“Tell a Greek millionaire that.”
Augie shoved his chair back. “I wouldn’t be the first man in this family to marry outside his class.” “August!” his mother said.
His father gave him a look that would have made Mona Lisa frown.
Now Augie wondered if the man ever fathomed how fortunate he had been to find such a wife. Who else would have put up with him for so long?
The elder Dr. Knox had proved maddeningly prescient. Nearly two months from their first kiss Augie arranged a short trip to Athens, leaving just enough time to get back for his fall teaching load. During the flight he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t read, couldn’t concentrate, paced whenever he was allowed, and jabbered so long to a flight attendant about Sofia that she said, “Tell me any more about her and I’m gonna have to be in the wedding.”
When the eternal flight finally touched down at Athens International Airport Eleftherios Venizelos, Augie was haggard and unshaven, but he found her smile above the crowd, and it was all he could do to keep from running over people to get to her. Had any couple ever been more in love, more destined for each other?
That night, after he had napped and freshened up, Sofia introduced him to her friends over dinner. They were pleasant and talkative, but Nomiki, one of the guys from her work, seemed to be studying Augie. Finally the man said, “You guys are in love, right?”
“Of course,” Sofia said. “Now don’t start . . .”
He shook his head. “I don’t get why you’ve exiled him to a hotel. Who does that?”
“Do you really want to know?” Augie said.
“No, he doesn’t,” Sofia said. “We’ve already been through this. He didn’t think there was anyone left in the world like us.”
“There’s not!” Nomiki said. “You’re adults. You’re in love. You’re planning a future together. Get on with it!”
“Don’t think we wouldn’t love to,” Augie said.
Nomiki smiled. “So you agree with her that you’re somehow honoring God this
way?”
“She’s worth it.”
“Sorry I asked.”
Sofia held up a hand. “Enjoy your dinner, Nomiki.”
At the end of the evening, when the group was saying its farewells, Nomiki shook Augie’s hand. “You’re a lucky man,” he said. “More power to you.”
Two days later the flight to Thessaloniki took less than an hour, and Augie was surprised when Sofia headed for the rental car counter.
“Dad and Mom are both busy at the main store.”
“Too busy to—.”
“They need a little time to get used to this, Augie. I am their one and only, remember.”
Tri-K Imports’ anchor store occupied half a block in downtown Thessaloniki. Malfees Trikoupis emerged from the back to warmly embrace his daughter. The man seemed to always dress the same way— gray slacks, tailored white shirt, navy blazer with gold buttons.
He shook hands with Augie while keeping a protective arm around Sofia. “You’ve been here before, no?”
“Many times, but always with responsibility for a busload of tourists. Never time to really enjoy all you have to offer.”
“Allow me to show you around.”
“Daddy, let us say hi to Mom first. I’ll bring him right back.”
They found Eris Trikoupis in the office looking anything but busy. She seemed to force a smile, remaining seated as she tepidly greeted Augie. “Sofia, are we going to be able to get some shopping in today?” she said. “Just you and me?”
The tour of the store, no surprise, proved a ruse to cover Mr. Trikoupis’s agenda. “You’re not here to ask for my daughter’s hand, are you, Dr. Knox?”
“What if I was?”
“Have you slept with her?”
“I assure you I have not. You know I share both your faith and your values.”
“I can only hope. Are you prepared to support a family?”
“No, sir, I’m not. I’m prepared to support her. The rest of you will have to fend for yourselves.”
I, Saul Page 8
