Free Luke's Story by Tim Lahaye 7 Jerry B. Jenkins Page A

about, speaking to great crowds about the kingdom of God.”

    “Indeed?” Luke said, laughing. “And is he planning to usher it in?”

    “I don’t know, but they say many believe he has healed people.”

    That gave Luke pause. Had he not, in spite his devotion to Stoicism, found himself longing to be known as a great physician, one of the best in the land? “Healed them? Healed them of what? And how?”

    “The blind, the lame. He heals them with a touch or a word. Rumor has it he raised a man who had been dead and in the tomb four days.”

    Luke shook his head. This had better not be true. And how could it be? “People will believe anything. Surely no one with a brain is accepting this. Is Rome aware of it?”

    “If not, it soon will be, unless the novelty of it wears off or until he is exposed as a charlatan. I should think the Jewish leaders would be most upset, as he apparently has no authority to be expounding on these matters. Others have arisen to draw great crowds, only to fade into obscurity. But if you hear any more out of there, let me know.”

     
     
    AS LUKE LAY TRYING to sleep that night, he couldn’t help but smile at the prospect of his old friend Saul responding to this obscure teacher arousing such interest from the people. Woe to the poor man if he was forced into a debate with Saul!

    By the time Luke had enjoyed his festive sendoff—and Theophilus was right that many of his fellow slaves seemed genuinely happy for him (including Diabolos)—and gotten started on his new career, he didn’t have to venture to the harbor for news from Judea. The fame of the carpenter named Jesus was spreading. Even some visiting the free clinic had stories and opinions about the controversy.

    A woman told Luke, to his uproarious amusement, that the teacher had fed thousands of people with just a couple of fish and a few loaves of bread.

    “And I suppose you’ve heard of all the healings too,” Luke said, still chuckling. “A blind man? A bleeding woman?”

    “Oh, more than that,” she said. “I heard that more than once he healed everyone gathered to listen to him.”

    “Everyone? All of them? How many?”

    “Hundreds at least,” she said. “That’s why some think he’s of God.”

    “Of God? Do people really believe this?”

    “Some believe he could be the Messiah.”

    “Indeed?” But Luke could see that his merriment was offending the woman. He managed a serious look. “And you? What do you make of it, ma’am?”

    “Do you and the Pharisees agree on anything?”

    “Yes. Even those middle-class doctors of the law ascribe to the truth that the Lord our God is one God.”

    “And whom should I ask about Saul of Tarsus?”

    The rabbi waved toward a wide opening behind him. “I haven’t seen him for a long time either, sir. But one of his own ought to know where he has gone.”

    Luke found his encounter with the Pharisees just as unproductive. When he mentioned Saul’s name, the elders looked at one another and hesitated. “What is your business with him?” one said.

    “We attended university together, in Tarsus.”

    “You might look for him there.”

    “In his hometown? Is he no longer a leader here? Is he back making tents?”

    An older rabbi shrugged and chuckled. “He was no leader here, though he carried himself as if he were.”

    “Come now, Iseabail,” another said. “We certainly cannot fault him for his zeal. He was no sloth, that is sure. He was clearly the most strident among us against the Nazarene and the other blasphemers.”

    “Nonsense! He merely watched the cloaks of those who executed one of them.”

    “But he made up for that, leading his own team to ferret out the secret meeting places and bringing the insurgents to justice.”

    “And sometimes death.”

    “But where is he now?”

    “That’s my question,” Luke said. “What, he simply disappeared?”

    The men eyed one another again. Finally Iseabail spoke. “We don’t know