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

by Frank G. Slaughter

  Now Paul’s voice rang out over the hushed crowd in a veritable paean of triumph. “But may it never be mine to boast of anything but the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ by which the world has been crucified to me and I to the world! Now peace and mercy be on all who walk by this rule; that is, on the true Israel of God. Let nobody trouble me after this, for I carry on my body the scars that mark me as Jesus’ slave. The spiritual blessing of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit, brothers. Amen.”

  Paul sat down, but there was still no sound from the congregation. All of them knew that his words had been directed to Peter, and they waited for Peter to answer. What they did not seem to realize was that they had just heard a truly inspired description of the Way they were all pledged to follow, a way of life given to the world by the gentle man who had died on the cross upon the hill of Calvary before Jerusalem.

  Peter remained silent, however, and the service was soon over. People gathered around Paul, praising his words and congratulating him, but Luke did not see Peter in the crowd. Then he spied the tall form of the older apostle leaving the church and hurried after him. Peter was halfway down the street when Luke caught up with him and touched his arm gently to attract his attention.

  “What is it, Luke?” Peter asked kindly.

  “I want you to know,” Luke said earnestly, “that I think Paul did wrong in rebuking you before the congregation.”

  Peter smiled and took Luke’s arm. “Come walk with me by the river, Luke,” he said. “I need a keen mind like yours to help me think.” Peter did not speak until they reached the stone parapet at the end of the street where the brown flood of the Orontes flowed below them on its way to the sea. “I will tell you a story, Luke,” he said gently. “Once when I was with Jesus a controversy sprang up among the disciples as to which of them might be greatest. I have always tried to remember what the Master said then, Luke: ‘He who is least among you all will be great.’”

  “But you were the one Jesus chose to lead the disciples. Everyone loves you, Peter, and we all know that you meant no harm when—” He stopped in some confusion, for to go on would have meant admitting that Paul’s rebuke was justified.

  “Yes, Luke,” Peter said gently. “Paul was right in rebuking me, and so I had no right to speak against him. To deny any man the right to believe in Jesus and come to Him is to deny the Savior.” Peter bowed his head, and when he spoke again his voice was muffled, as if his throat were filled with emotion. “I denied Him once, Luke, and I should get down on my knees and thank Paul for showing me that I was about to deny Him again.

  “Paul has been chosen by God for a great work,” Peter continued, “perhaps greater than my own. If I had answered him publicly it would have been to justify myself by humbling him. And Jesus told us we should humble self, as He did.”

  “What are you going to do then?” Luke asked.

  “Do?” Peter smiled. “The Lord’s work, of course. I am still the apostle to the Jews. There are many of our people in the cities of the Decapolis and even as far as Babylon and Rome who have not heard of Jesus. I shall carry the message to them.”

  Impulsively Luke said, “Let me go with you, Peter. Thecla could travel with us; she would be a comfort to your wife.”

  “Do not tempt me to think of my own wishes, Luke,” Peter said with a smile. “We all know that only your medical skill has made it possible for Paul to carry his message to the Gentiles. He needs you far more than I do. Remember the words of Jesus, Luke: ‘He who is least among you all will be great.’ Your humility and devotion to the Way will be properly rewarded someday, if not on earth, then in heaven with Jesus.”

  When Luke returned to Barnabas’s house he found Paul and Barnabas facing each other angrily. Barnabas’s first words betrayed the source of his resentment. “Why did you reprimand Peter before the congregation, Paul?” he demanded. “You had no right to do that.”

  Paul’s color rose. “By what right do you censure me, Barnabas?” he snapped.

  “Any follower of Jesus has a right to protest an insult to the one upon whom the mantle of the Lord fell.”

  “When Peter tried to drive a wedge between Jew and Gentile he forfeited any right to wear that mantle.”

  “Upon whom is it to descend, then?” Barnabas asked with biting sarcasm. “You?”

  “Why not?” Paul demanded, his face set in an angry cast. “Did not the Lord speak to me from the heavens and call me to do His work? Has He done more for Peter?”

  “Do you dare set yourself above Peter?” Barnabas asked incredulously.

  “Peter denied Christ. He himself admits it.”

  “But that was God’s will. Jesus Himself foretold it. And no one has been more faithful since the resurrection than Peter.”

  “Has Peter risked his life to carry God’s message to the heathen?” Paul demanded. “Has he been whipped with thirty-nine lashes or felt the stones upon his body?”

  “Peter never shirks danger,” Barnabas argued. “He remained in Jerusalem when Herod had sworn to imprison him. And God recognized his courage and zeal by releasing him from prison. Has He done as much for you, Paul?”

  The words were spoken, and Luke realized from the sudden look of horror on Barnabas’s face that he had not meant them as they sounded. But in his angry state Paul took them as an accusation that God had withheld approval of his work when He had failed to stay the lashes at Pisidian Antioch or the stones at Lystra. “I yield to no man in serving God,” Paul said coldly. “If the Lord does not support my mission, let Him deny me by some sign.” He turned and left the room, slamming the door with a finality which left no doubt in either of their minds that he was terminating his partnership with Barnabas.

  “I never meant to imply that God did not support Paul,” Barnabas said miserably. “He should know that.”

  “Paul was angry, Barnabas. He may feel different later.”

  Barnabas shook his head. “I have hurt Paul in his most vulnerable spot, Luke—his pride in being called directly by Jesus to carry the message to the Gentiles. There can be no healing the breach now. One thing I wish you would do for me, Luke. Ask Paul to let Mark go with you on the next visit to Galatia; there is much that he would learn from Paul.”

  But Paul flatly refused to let John Mark go along with them. The reason he gave was that Mark could not be trusted on so important an expedition because he had given up and returned from Perga on the previous one. But Luke was sure that what rankled in Paul’s mind was the suspicion that Mark would be a spy for Peter. Now he realized just how deep a schism had developed in the Church of Jesus, a breach whose widening might prove the undoing of all their work.

  VIII

  Luke sadly bade farewell to Barnabas and Mark when they departed a week later for Cyprus, where Barnabas planned to spend several months strengthening the churches. Paul’s party, consisting of Luke, Probus, Silas, and the apostle, left Antioch a few days later, taking the land route so that Paul could visit Tarsus and the cities on the way where the Christians from Antioch had set up small churches. Paul was jubilant over the new venture and the opportunity to see and reaffirm the faith of those who believed throughout Cilicia and Galatia, unhampered by the work of the Judaizers who had so nearly wrecked the infant Church. At first Luke was saddened by the absence of Barnabas and Mark, but his spirits rose as the miles passed beneath their sandals along the coastal road to the north, shortening the distance between him and Thecla. And it was pleasant to have Probus as a traveling companion once more.

  In Tarsus, Luke learned of the death of Glaucus some months before. The realization that Thecla was free to come to him when they reached Iconium set his heart beating faster in eager anticipation of the time when he would see her again and hold her in his arms, this time for always. Word of the action by the Church at Jerusalem in regard to the Gentile Christians had gone ahead of them, and as they reached the highlands their progre
ss became in every sense a triumphal procession. There were stops at Derbe and Lystra while Paul preached and helped perfect the organization of the churches in those cities. Great crowds gathered all the way, and hundreds of converts were baptized in every village where they stopped.

  Finally, however, they came to Iconium, and Thecla met them at the outskirts of the city with Timothy and his mother. To Luke the girl seemed more beautiful than ever. Sorrow over the death of Glaucus, whom she had loved deeply, had mellowed her girlish loveliness, and in the period of almost a year since he had seen her Thecla had matured into a beautiful young woman. Out of consideration for Thecla’s grief for her father Luke did not urge their immediate marriage but was content to take up again their life where they had dropped it here in Iconium. He worked in his small surgery by day to help the sick and held Thecla’s warm hand in his while they sat on cushions in the large common room in the evening listening to Paul, or stole a few moments together late at night in the garden before retiring.

  Luke was happy with his work and his nearness to his beloved, until one day Probus asked, “Have you noticed how much time Paul spends talking to Thecla lately, Luke?”

  Surprised, Luke said, “There is nothing wrong with that; it was Paul who converted her.”

  “He loves her; you know that, don’t you?”

  Luke smiled. “Don’t you? I thought we all did.”

  “Not in the way I mean,” Probus insisted. “I noticed it first in Jerusalem when you and Thecla became betrothed. And now it is even more apparent.”

  Luke was silent, for he remembered his own observations in Jerusalem and afterward. Now that he thought of it again, he could remember many small things which seemed to fit in with Probus’s statement about Paul’s loving Thecla.

  “When are you and Thecla to be married?” Probus asked.

  “We haven’t agreed on a date. Why?”

  “Paul has been talking to her about marriage; I overheard them once or twice. And you know his views about it.”

  “Vaguely,” Luke admitted. “I have been busy with the sick and haven’t listened to him preach lately.”

  “He states flatly now that people should no longer marry because the return of Jesus is so near. I have never heard him so emphatic before. If I were you,” Probus continued, “I would talk to Thecla right away, before Paul convinces her that she should not marry you.”

  “But Paul wouldn’t do that,” Luke protested. “He knew we were planning to be married on my return to Iconium.”

  “Ask Thecla,” Probus warned darkly. “It may already be too late.”

  Luke could not believe that Probus could be anything but mistaken. But when he held Thecla in his arms that night with perhaps more than his usual hunger for her, she pushed him away and said, “Please don’t, Luke.”

  Luke felt a sudden chill. Could Probus be right, after all? He took Thecla’s chin in his hands and turned her face up to him. In the moonlight he saw that her eyes were troubled and her chin quivering, as if she were about to cry. “What is it, dearest?” he asked. “You haven’t changed your feelings about me, have you?”

  For answer she threw herself into his arms and held him as if she never wanted to let him go. But he felt her tears dampen his tunic and her shoulders jerk from the sobs she could not repress. “What is wrong, dear?” he asked anxiously. “Anything that troubles you is my concern too.”

  She raised her face then. “Have you spoken to Paul about our marrying, Luke?”

  “To Paul? No. But he knew our plans. Anyway, what does he have to do with our marrying?”

  “Don’t be angry, Luke,” Thecla pleaded. “I only want to do what Jesus would wish for me to do. And Paul says—”

  “Then Probus was right!” Luke exploded.

  “Probus? I don’t understand.”

  “Probus believes Paul is in love with you himself, Thecla, and that he is trying to delay our marriage by convincing you that the coming of Jesus is so close that people should not marry.”

  She flinched as if he had struck her. “But he couldn’t, Luke,” she cried, and the pain in her voice went through him so that he wanted to take her in his arms again and comfort her. But she stiffened in his embrace, and he let his arm drop to his side. “What a terrible thing to say. Paul thinks only of Jesus, you know that.”

  When Luke did not answer at once, she begged piteously. “You couldn’t believe anything like that, Luke. You couldn’t.”

  “Paul is a man, Thecla,” he said then, “and you are a very beautiful woman, more so now than ever before. I never told you before, but Paul came into the garden that night at the house of James of Jerusalem and saw me kiss you when we became betrothed. Afterward he was so angry with me that he refused to bless our marriage.” Then he added with a smile, “But I don’t blame anyone for falling in love with you, darling. Remember how quickly it happened to me?”

  “But Paul is above such things as—as what marriage means. He loves everyone in the way Jesus did.”

  “I don’t think there is anything wrong in the way I love you, Thecla,” Luke said quietly. “Has Paul been telling you that there is?”

  She did not answer but turned suddenly and ran into the house. Luke remained in the garden for some time before going to his own couch, but when finally he did, he had made his decision. There was only one answer: he must have it out with Paul as soon as possible.

  Leaving Probus to finish the work in the surgery, the next day Luke returned early to the house of Eunice. He found Timothy there, fairly jumping with excitement. “Paul is taking me with him when he starts on his journeys again, Luke,” the young man reported. “I am to be his clerk.”

  “But what of your studies, Timothy?”

  “Thecla will teach me.”

  “Is she going too?” Luke asked.

  “Why, yes. Hasn’t she told you? I heard them speaking of it this afternoon.”

  “I haven’t seen Thecla since morning.”

  “She must plan to tell you about it tonight,” Timothy said. “I heard her begging Paul to let both of you go along, and he agreed.”

  Luke’s heart leaped. Could it be that Thecla had talked Paul into approving their marriage? He started to ask Timothy, then did not, for the young man had revealed accidentally what Thecla had been discussing with Paul. To ask any more questions would be the same as eavesdropping upon her.

  Thecla and Paul came in a little later. The girl was radiant. “Paul has promised to let me go with the rest of you on your journey to other cities, Luke,” she cried. “I talked him into it.”

  “Are we to be married before we start?” Luke asked. “People might talk unless we were.”

  “I am Thecla’s spiritual father now that Glaucus is dead,” Paul said quickly. “Timothy is going, too, and Thecla could travel with the group as his governess. There could be no possible cause for anyone to object.”

  Probus was right, Luke realized. Paul had already talked the impressionable girl into his own way of thought. And with the realization came a rising anger that he no longer tried to control.

  “I have cause to object,” he said flatly. “Thecla and I are betrothed, Paul. Why have you tried to talk Thecla out of marrying me?”

  Paul was momentarily taken aback by the direct question, but he received his composure quickly. “Both of you know my feelings about marriage, Luke,” he said reasonably. “The coming of the Lord Jesus is near, when there will be no marrying or giving in marriage. People should be thinking of other things besides themselves.”

  “You said Jesus was coming soon last year,” Luke pointed out. “And He has not returned to earth yet.”

  “These are the words of Jesus,” Paul said. “‘Therefore you also be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.’ Actually I wish all men were like to myself, so busy with the Lord’s work that there is no t
ime for worldly things.”

  “Is it a sin for people to love each other and have children?” Luke demanded.

  “A sin? No. But it would be a fine thing for them to remain single as I am.” Paul turned to Thecla. “I know you are conscious that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, my dear. Furthermore, you are not your own, since you have given yourself to Jesus. You have been bought and actually paid for, so you should honor God with your body.”

  “Why this talk of bodies and dishonor?” Luke demanded angrily. “Thecla and I propose to be married legally and spiritually. There is nothing either dishonorable or sinful about that.”

  “You and Thecla are of age, Luke,” Paul said reasonably. “I could not forbid you. But the time has been cut short until Jesus shall come, and therefore men who have wives should live as though they had none, for the outward order of the world is passing away. An unmarried man is concerned about the affairs of the Lord, but a married man is concerned about the affairs of the world and how he can please his wife, so his devotion is divided. An unmarried woman or a girl is concerned about the affairs of the Lord so as to be consecrated in body and spirit, but a married woman is concerned about affairs of the world and how she can please her husband. It is for the welfare of both of you that I say this, not to put restraint upon you, but to foster good order and to help you to an undivided devotion to the Lord. In my opinion, Thecla will be happier if she remains as she is, a virgin, and I think I have God’s Spirit in what I say.”

  Luke could see by the way Thecla was drinking in every word and the exalted look in her eyes that she was completely under Paul’s magnetic spell. He had seen others so affected by the apostle’s dynamic personality. Believing in Paul as she did and in his right to speak directly for Christ, Paul’s arguments, his commanding presence, and his sonorous voice had entranced her, until she was no longer capable of exercising her own will in his presence. It was similar to the trancelike state in which the priest-physicians of Asklepios sometimes seemed to accomplish miraculous cures and which he had seen Probus evoke by letting impressionable people gaze at the great emerald from Pergamum.