“Stick with me, Luke, and you’ll have as much fun as you want. I know every street and alleyway in Tarsus. And I fancy myself an athlete. One of the first things we are to study in history here is the Battle of Marathon five centuries ago and the man who ran all that way to tell of the victory and then died of exhaustion. I am organizing a run just like it, not to or from Marathon, of course, but I have devised a path that is about the same length.”
“And who is to run this?”
“I will, and many of my new friends. Join us! It will be, as you say, fun.”
“It doesn’t sound like fun to me. Isn’t that more than twenty-five miles?”
“It is. But what better way to learn? We’re doing it tomorrow, after morning classes.”
“Won’t it take hours?”
“It will for me,” Saul said, “but you plainly have longer legs and look more fit. You’ll probably be waiting for the rest of us when we arrive back here.”
Luke had never run a mile, let alone more than twenty-five. But what better way to start getting to know other students? As he was considering it, Saul excused himself and ran to help another new student carrying his belongings into the dormitory.
As he prepared for the orientation meeting, Luke could not get Saul, or his running challenge, off his mind. He was going to do it, he had decided. But what was with the intensity of that young man? He was articulate and direct, and his eyes had seemed to bore into Luke’s.
But was Saul of Tarsus a potential friend? His very energy and ideas might exhaust Luke. On the other hand, wasn’t that what university life was all about—expanding his wo/div> No way could Luke live a life satisfying to a devout Jew, but Saul seemed an open-minded sort. Perhaps his education abroad and his receptiveness to gleaning what he could even from philosophies opposed to his own would make him a valuable acquaintance.
TEN
As Luke was leaving the orientation meeting that evening, struck by the mass of students overrunning the campus, Saul approached from a distance. The dark, wiry man was waving, and when he came fully into view, it was clear he had been injured.
“What happened to your eye, Saul?”
“Oh, this? It’s nothing. I challenged an older student to a fistfight, and he took me seriously. I mean, I wanted the challenge, but he thought we had to be angry with each other and not just sporting. Before I realized I had to really fight back, he had landed a good blow.”
“What were you fighting about?”
“Nothing! I just like to box. And he was much bigger, so I wanted to give it a go. People seem to misunderstand me, though I try to be clear. Do you find me hard to understand?”
Luke laughed. “I don’t understand why you’d want to take on an older, bigger student just for sport, or run more than twenty-five miles, but I don’t have any trouble comprehending what you’re saying.”
“Well, that’s a relief. And you are running with us tomorrow, right?”
“I’ll give it a try.”
“Oh, but you must finish. You don’t have to win, but finishing is everything.”
“Fair enough. I promise to finish. Probably at the back of the pack, but I will finish.”
“That’s the spirit, Luke.”
“Now, what have you done for that eye? It’s nearly swollen shut.”
“I applied a poultice of heated mud and leaves.”
“No wonder it’s swollen! Are you not familiar with the new approach to such injuries? Cold is the way to go, not hot. Heat causes more fluid to come into the affected area. Come with me.”
Luke led him to a small stream, where he formed a mudpack and cooled it in the water, then pressed it gently over the eye. Saul winced but then admitted that it felt better already. “Will this keep it from turning purple?”
“Probably not,” Luke said, “and it may ache if you still try to run tomorrow.”
“Nothing will stop me from that. He didn’t injure my legs. By the way, he got the worst of our fight.”
“He did?”
“Oh, yes. I may have broken his noing for others who enjoy talking, especially late at night. There is nothing I enjoy more.”
“Well, I need more sleep than that, but I may seek you out when my mind does not allow me to slumber. A good discussion may be just what I need.”
“Discussion? Arguments are better! You take one side, I another, and we plead our cases until morning.”
“And then sleep through our lectures,” Luke said. He enjoyed making Saul laugh.
Saul gathered the other men around. “My only counsel is to not start too fast,” he said. “I have never done this either, but I have watched athletes race in the coliseum, and often the ones who start out too quickly soon tire and finish last. Pace yourselves and enjoy the view.”
He explained the simple twenty-five-plus-mile loop that would take them “through all the different parts of one of the world’s greatest cities. Stay on my course and you will not get lost. And though you may tire, don’t miss all the sights. No matter where you’re from, it’s unlikely you’ve ever seen a larger trade center on the Mediterranean coast. I’m proud to say our merchants are known throughout the empire, and they have poured much of their profits back into the city. It has good roads and much ornate beauty. Don’t miss it. Don’t run with your eyes cast down, no matter how tired you become.”
Saul began running in place. “Get the body loosened up, and we will soon be off.”
To Luke’s great amusement, Saul was the first to violate his own advice. As soon as he had called out, “Ready? Let’s go!” the young Pharisee lit out at nearly top speed, teasing the others to try to keep up. Many tried, including Luke, but after a mere quarter of a mile, they slowed.
Luke was winded and attempted to settle into a steady gait, trying to ignore that the speedy Saul was fast moving out of sight. As they left the campus and began a gradual slope down into the city, Luke tried to take in the surroundings, but his lack of physical activity for so long quickly caught up with him, and after he had slowed to a jog and covered little more than a mile, he was ready to quit.
He stopped and rested his hands on his hips, bending at the waist and gasping. “Done already?” some said as they passed him, and he didn’t even have the energy to respond. Two stragglers sidled up next to him and said, “This is ridiculous. We’re heading back too.”
“I’m not heading back,” Luke said. “I said I would finish, and I will.”
“You’ve barely begun, man! Give it up.”
They turned and began trudging back up to the university, but as soon as Luke caught his breath, he broke into a trot again, only to find that the strap on his right sandal was already digging into his flesh and raising a red spot. Dare he run barefoot? Surely not for the whole race. He soldiered on, soon trailing the rest by half a mile.
It wasn’t long before Luke had to find a place to sit and study the blister forming on his right foot. Checking his left, he found an irritaoon have to slow to a walk, and his goal to be back to the campus before sunset would be hopeless.
As the day wore on, Luke began to wonder how far behind he was, only to surprisingly overtake a few of his schoolmates sitting and enjoying refreshments with town folk.
“Still at it?” they called out. “We’re done! Let Saul run himself into the ground. We had no idea . . .”
Luke just waved and kept walking. Occasionally he would jog a few steps, but he soon realized that even walking the whole way was going to tax him to his limits. Along the route he continued to come upon others sitting off to the side, not one with any intention of continuing.
By very late in the afternoon he reached the halfway point and believed he had caught and passed everyone but Saul.
Famished, thirsty, aching, blistered, and sore, Luke stopped after sundown and begged fruit off a street vendor, vowing to pay the next day. The sustenance awakened him a bit but did nothing to heal his broken-down body, and now he lumbered on, only because there was nowhere else to
go.
To his astonishment, as Luke finally began the incline that would take him back to the campus more than eight hours after he had begun, he saw a small figure in the distance, laboring to lean into and go up the hill. Saul.
The little man was limping badly, and Luke quickened his pace, just enough to know that he would be able to reach Saul before they finished. They would be the only two to complete the course. What a foolish idea this had been, and yet Luke anticipated a sense of accomplishment to go along with his ailments and the likelihood that he would not come close to finishing his reading that night.
When he drew close enough, Luke hollered out for Saul, who slowly turned and smiled wearily, extending his arms. “Luke! Is it you alone?”
“It is!”
Saul beckoned for him, but Luke had no more in him. He just shuffled along. Saul would have to wait.
When Luke finally reached him, Saul embraced him and they continued. “I’m proud of you,” Saul said. “I confess that after halfway I knew I had offended all these by goading them to run, and had I not been the one who instigated this, I myself would have quit long ago. But frankly, if anyone else were to finish, I did not expect it to be you.”
“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?
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.
“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.”
“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.”
“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. “T
hen 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.”