Authors: Jerry B. Jenkins
I, Saul (30 page)
She shrugged. “It still makes him a liar. And he just now lied to me. The same man who taught me from childhood how a person's word and reputation are what life is all about. I bought it. I see it in you, and it's one of the reasons I love you.”
“You trust me to tell you the truth?”
“I do, Augie. If you ever gave me reason to doubt you, I'd be out of your life before you could blink.”
“I would never want that, love.”
“Me either. Augie, you've told me you love me, that I'm your whole life. I've given you my heart. I'm planning to leave my family, my job, my home, my country for you. I'll follow you to the end of the earth. My future is built on trusting you.”
She leaned into him and he held her.
“It's a good thing,” he said. “Because before we get back to the hotel I have to tell you what I've finally realized. I said you're not going to believe it because I hardly do. You're not going to want to believe it, I know that. But you know I wouldn't tell you something like this unless it was true.”
Until Dawn
Luke became so immersed in Paul's memoir that he read through the night. Knowing he would be spent by morning and worth little to his patients, he kept telling himself he would put aside the parchments at the end of the next interesting story, only to forge ahead to discover more.
The physician pored over Paul's account of his family's voyage to Caesarea and then the land journey to Jerusalem, his father setting up his business and almost immediately becoming a supplier both to the Jews and the Romansâparticularly the military. Paul also told of his mother becoming acquainted with the new area, setting up housekeeping, getting involved in the synagogue, and of Shoshanna maturing into womanhood.
Young Saul had immediately established himselfâaccording to what Gamaliel told Y'honatan and Rivka in front of their sonâas the most
motivated student the rabban had encountered in all his years of training rabbis. Paul recounted his own eagerness to learn, to engage, to discuss, to debate. He told of his humiliation when Gamaliel privately cautioned him to “remain charitable when others disagree,” and to “offer them the courtesy of time to also make their points.”
Gamaliel's prediction that the young scholar might not find himself ahead of his peers at such a prestigious academy soon proved incorrect. During his first year, Saul progressed to where he held his own against older students. Soon he grew confident enough to challenge even Gamaliel, especially when the headmaster emphasized the heart of the law rather than the purity of it.
Gamaliel cautioned him, “The Word of God is a lamp, a light, a direction, a path. But we must remember that the rabbi ministers to finite beingsâfrail, imperfect men and women.”
“I would argue,” Saul said, “that our duty is to remain true to the purity of the Scripture, to learn its every nuance, so that we may hold our congregants to its standard.”
Gamaliel, according to Paul's account, told Saul how much he appreciated his zeal and pleaded with him to season his orthodoxy with compassion. That, Paul admitted, made the young Saul entrench himself “only more deeply into what I considered pure Pharisaic doctrine. I was blind to how I was perceived by others. All that mattered was that God was perfect and that rabbis were called to point their people to His model.”
As Saul's years of schooling continued at the feet of Gamaliel, Luke saw the young man grow into an exceptional intellect powered by a fanatical confidence in his own views. When Rabban Gamaliel informed him he was “becoming a man with whom no one can argue, indeed who intimidates any who question you,” Saul accepted it as the ultimate compliment. “That my mentor saw this as a character flaw
and counseled me to become more diplomatic did not dissuade me. I felt empowered, knowing I was right and that I could state my case with such force and intellect that no one could hope to prevail over me. My goal became to become the youngest leader among the elite Jews of Jerusalem.”
Saul's account of young love came as a colossal surprise to Luke, as Paul had never mentioned that he had been close to marriage. His writings showed that he had found himself in ferocious competition academically and athletically with both Gamaliel's son, Simeonâalso a prodigious scholarâand another young man, Ezra, whose aim was to become a priest.
That triumvirate with similar goals and intellects should have become fast friends, but it soon emerged that the other two resented Saul and could barely abide his presence. Not only did he prove overbearing in theological discussions, but he also turned every leisure activity, every sport, into a personal competition. And because of his athletic ability and robust physique, he prevailed in every physical contest.
From his adult perspective, Paul wrote, “I never neglected to lord my superiority over my two rivals. I was still taken with Simeon's sister, Gamaliel's daughter Naomi, and seized every opportunity to shine in her presence. I either invented arguments wherein I could impress her with my knowledge, or if she happened to watch us playing at any sport, I competed with all my strength.”
That seemed a good place for Luke to set aside the manuscript and steal a few hours' sleep, but a glance at the next line persuaded him to keep reading.
When finally I succeeded in turning her head by outrunning
her brother and Ezra, she approached shyly, brilliant eyes and smooth dark skin rendering me speechless for once. “May I talk with you,” she said, “when you have time?”
I wanted to tell her and the world that I had all the time she needed and that there was nothing I'd rather do than have an excuse to gaze at her.
But, desperate to impress, I calmly said, “How is this moment right now? I have worn out those two gentlemen, who are no challenge anyway. They'll have more fun without me.”
Naomi sat on the ground. “That is what I wanted to talk about.”
I dropped near her and lay on my side. “You enjoy my speed, my ability?”
She seemed shy and looked off into the distance. “You are impressive, Saul, in everything you do. Running, leaping, talking, even just walking. You have passion, as if you are on your way somewhere.”
“I am,” I assured her, prepared to tell her my plans. She had to know her father, as well as his vice chief justice, Nathanael, were already urging me to think about beginning my rabbinical life in some administrative role under the Sanhedrin.
“Simeon tells me you have more of the Scriptures memorized than most of the other students,” Naomi said, “even ones who have been at Hillel for years. He says sometimes you can quote a passage faster than even my father.”
“The truth is I have memorized more than all the other students,” I said, “and it isn't that I can sometimes quote a
passage more quickly than your father. It's always. You can ask him.”
“I don't doubt you. Father is impressed with you, but you know that.”
I nodded. “If I may be frank, Naomi, I care more about what you think of me.”
“Do you really?” she said, looking directly into my eyes, which compelled me to sit up. “Or do you just want to know you have yet another admirer?”
In my naïveté, this strangely emboldened me! I told her, “If you admired me, I would not care what anyone else thought.” I watched for the delight this was bound to bring her.
Instead, she challenged me. “So if I began a passage, you could complete it for me?”
I had to chuckle. How much time would a female spend memorizing the words of God? “Anything you know I certainly know. Try it!”
Naomi said, “âLet another man â¦'”
“â⦠praise you!'“ I said. “The Proverbs of Solomon! âLet another man praise you, and not your own mouth; a stranger, and not your own lips.' Correct?”
“Yes,” she said, rising before I could even assist her. When I leapt to my feet, she stared at the ground and said quietly, “That you know the words but not the wisdom they contain is no surprise.”
She had done it againârendered me speechless. Still in my teens, I knew the history of the Jews, all the kings and kingdoms, good rulers and bad. I knew our lands, our sacrifices,
our rituals, our laws, and not just in part but the whole. Already I was qualified to lead a congregation and instruct them in the proper ways to conduct their lives. Yet this fetching young woman dared say I knew the words but not their wisdom?
As she walked away I stood transfixed, wondering what a man has to do to impress a woman. I had outrun her brother and his friend. I was the top scholar at Hillel. I had finished the passage she cited before she reached the fourth word. Yet she insults me? I could only watch as Ezra ran to greet her. He looked nervous and immature. Yet as they chatted she smiled at him, even gently touched his shoulder!
My entire walk home I was consumed, not by what she had saidâI hadn't even thought that through. No, I could not get my mind off her obvious affection for Ezra! He was a competent enough student, but he was awkward and rarely serious. Clearly he was enamored with Naomi, but who wouldn't be? And she had plainly engaged him, encouraged him.
That may have been the first time I allowed myself to be distracted from my studies. Naomi had invaded my mind. Over and over I relived our brief conversation, bewildered that I had failed to impress her.
For the sake of accuracy, I must admit I lost track of how many times I went over the encounter in my mind before finally falling asleep that night. I woke before dawn, as usual, and something about walking in the crisp air allowed the truth of the proverb to reach me.
I had been so focused on failing to impress Naomi and
then tormented by how happy she seemed with Ezra that I had entirely missed her pointâthe wisdom of the proverb, not just the words I had memorized.
“Let another man praise you, and not your own mouth; a stranger, and not your own lips.”
To Naomi this was not just an answer to a challenge. It had been her message to me! How was it possible a student as accomplished as I could prove so ignorant?
More importantly, why was it I felt so compelled to praise myself? Because so few others did? Was the praise of Gamaliel himself not enough?
I was suddenly overwhelmed with shame. Not only did my peers not compliment my successes, but neither was the object of my longing impressed with me. Why? Because I praised myself. I knew the Word of God and claimed to obey it to the letter, yet somehow I had not applied the pithy sayings of Solomon to my own life. I had not obeyed them as Law.
During my prayers that morning I asked God if this was why I had never enjoyed the kind of friendship with Him that the great patriarchs of the Bible had. Was this why we did not converse? I believed He heard my every prayer, but why had I never heard Him?
I did not hear Him that morning either, though I asked forgiveness for violating the Law. And I determined that I must follow the proverbs with the same vigor as I did the rules for sacrifices. Only now, with the benefit of years, do I see that I did not become humble, did not become kinder, more thoughtful, or more compassionate. I became determined.
I would not praise myself, not because of what that revealed about me, but because the Scripture forbade it. And because Naomi would be watching, I could scale the last barrier between me and her affections.
