I, Saul (23 page)

I was giddy, certain I had found the perfect place to study under learned men who cared about every jot and tittle of the Scriptures.

Father could not hide his displeasure. I followed him to the western side of the temple where the wall blocked the harsh morning sun.

“Son, you know that I am loath to speak ill of a man, but I found Rabbi Enosh haughty and condescending, entirely without charity. He speaks of his opponents with disdain.”

I had been so certain of my future, but to go against my father's wishes was unthinkable.

“Saul, how would you feel about Rabbi Enosh if he were against you? Let's say you raised an objection to something he taught...”

I had to smile. Our own Rabbi Daniel had become exasperated with me more than once, even when I was right and my arguments prevailed. “He would be a worthy opponent, a challenge.”

Father shook his head. “I deduce he would be less than charitable. He would dismiss you like a pest.”

“Is there no way that you would choose Shammai for me?”

“I have not said that. It's possible that Beit Hillel will prove so counter to our view of the Scriptures that it will not prove acceptable.”

“What if you don't find either place right for me?”

Father stood and stretched. “We will always have the memory of this rich journey. And you will become heir to my business and the brightest Pharisaical scholar to ever make tents.”

I must have looked stricken, for my father immediately clapped me on the shoulder. “I am teasing you, Saul! I know you are called to serve God. Before the end of this year, you will be in rabbinical school somewhere.”

Crowds passed from the upper gate, including many men still wearing their phylacteries.

“I believe Hillel is just down this way,” Father said, pointing.

“You're looking for Hillel?” The voice was loud, friendly.

We turned to see a large man, easily a foot taller than my father and perhaps twice his girth, accompanied by a boy who seemed a bit younger than I and a girl about my age. The man introduced himself as Nasi and his children as Simeon and Naomi. I could not take my eyes off her, the very image I had conjured of a young Cleopatra when I read that the beautiful queen of Egypt was said to have once visited Tarsus long before I was born.

Naomi was darker than her brother and her father, with skin so beautiful I wanted to touch her face. Her expressive eyes made her look at once both radiant and shy.

“…my silent son's name is Saul, and yes, we have an appointment at Beit Hillel.”

“I am going that way,” Nasi said, excusing his children. As she turned to leave, Naomi looked me straight in the eyes and said softly, “It was nice to meet you, Saul.” I could have died.

Simeon had already run off when we followed the man. “You are to become a student at Hillel?” he said. “Hillel or Shammai,” I said.

“Indeed?” Nasi said with a smile. “The schools are wrestling over you? They are very different, are they not? From a distance one would think Shammai is a prison and Hillel a banquet hall. Which way are you leaning, young man?”

“I am proud to be a Pharisee,” I said.

“Ah, you would prefer the more strict. Admirable that you would not immediately choose the school that sounds easier.” Nasi swept his hand toward a three-story building
hemmed in by shops and apartment buildings on a narrow street. “I'm grateful the decision is yours and not mine! May the Lord bless you.”

The man bowed and set off down an alleyway next to the school. I started toward the entrance but noticed Father was not moving. “Do you know who that was?” he said.

“He said his name was Nasi, why?”

“Nasi is not a name, Saul. It's a title. I've heard it only in reference to high officers of the Sanhedrin. And I'm not talking about local councils. Here in Jerusalem it is the Great Sanhedrin.”

“We asked directions of a member of the Sanhedrin?” I said.

Father chuckled. “Perhaps later we will go back by the temple and inquire. And we can thank him.”

Inside a woman edged past, carrying a tray laden with freshly baked bread. “Looking for someone?”

“Gamaliel,” Father said.

“Upstairs to your left, but I'm not sure he's here yet. He's also president of the Sanhedrin, as you may know. He has been at the temple all morning.”

Father whispered, “He will know the man who showed us such kindness.”

We mounted a curved, stone stairway that deposited us into a narrow corridor. A man carrying sheaves of parchments hurried past. “Gamaliel?” Father said, and the man pointed to a door down the hall.

We knocked, heard a “Come in!” and pushed open the door, only to see Nasi rise and come around his desk to welcome
us. “No trouble finding the place?” he said, roaring with laughter. “Yes, I am Nasi Gamaliel. As soon as you mentioned Hillel, I knew who you were. I was hurrying here for my meeting with you. Sit, sit, please.”

“Are you the high priest?” I managed, thoroughly intimidated.

“No, that role is officially held by Eleazar ben Annas, but his father, Annas, is really the high priest. I preside over the council.” (Father told me later that Annas had been ousted by the Romans for acting too independently, even executing illegal capital sentences.)

The massive Nasi Gamaliel found a sheet of parchment and dipped a quill into an inkpot. “So, Saul,” he said, pen poised over the paper, “it's between the zealots and the apostates, is it? I am not blind to our perceived differences. I do not care to dwell on those unless you have specific questions. For now I want to get acquainted with you. Your decision will come in its own time and will, I hope, be based on your own values. So I'll leave that to you. Tell me about yourself. Your first memory, your home, your family, that sister of yours, your synagogue, your studies, interests, what you're passionate about.”

I started with my earliest recollection, my sister holding me back when a cart rolled past our house. “Tiny and young as I was, I understood that she was protecting me, and I felt loved.”

Gamaliel's pen remained still. “That is a beautiful story,” he said.

I told him everything I could remember about my life,
my studies, my faith, right up to this adventure, traveling by land all the way from Tarsus. The big man was scribbling, nodding, looking up, smiling.

When I finally paused, he dipped his quill again and said, “Tell me about you and God. Do you feel as if you know Him, or just about Him?”

This friendly man with the open face seemed to be looking right through me. My voice became thick and raspy, as if I had been caught. “I have told my father and my rabbi that I wish I could walk and talk with God the way Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob did.”

Gamaliel nodded. “What a wonderful desire.”

Father cleared his throat. “Both Rabbi Daniel and I have cautioned Saul not to expect so much. The men he cites are patriarchs, heroes of the faith. We are called to remain faithful to God's Word, to obey His Law and His commandments.”

Gamaliel looked kindly at my father and spoke softly. “You are wise to protect your son from disappointment. And you are right that the mighty men of Scripture are chronicled for a reason. But has God changed? Does it not remain a noble pursuit to want to truly know Him?”

Father looked puzzled. “I believe God is unknowable. We are called to know about Him and to obey.”

“I tend to agree, Y'honatan. But I choose not to forfeit the hope that we may know Him as did the patriarchs.” He turned to me. “And this is where you find yourself, am I right?”

I nodded, hoping Father was not disappointed in me.

Gamaliel set down his pen and leaned forward, speaking
earnestly. “Saul, I cannot promise that if you come to Hillel, you will one day walk and talk with God as our ancestors did. But I can tell you that we will never discourage that pursuit, and I for one would not limit God to where He would never be available to you in that way.

“And, Y'honatan, I do not pretend to be ignorant of the differences between the two schools. Where the Shammaites believe that if one breaks one of the laws he is guilty of breaking the whole, we would say that God will take into consideration the preponderance of good over evil in one's life. We summarize the intent of the Law this way: what is hateful to yourself, do not to another.”

Gamaliel led us out of his office and down the stairs. He whispered to the woman we had seen with the tray of bread, and we waited while she left for a few moments and then reappeared with three cloth bags, handing one to each of us.

We followed Gamaliel into the street and about half a mile from the city where we came to a grove of trees on a quiet hillside. There we sat, opened our bags, and found bread and fruit and cheese. Gamaliel blessed the meal, and as we ate he said, “Rabban Hillel, who founded our school, was my grandfather. My charge is to maintain what he began, a reverence for the Word of God, passing along the oral traditions, and calling young men into rabbinical ministry who are deeply committed to God and His Law. I seek peace with all men, even those with whom I may disagree.”

When we had eaten he smiled and rose, gathering up our scraps and slowing heading back down the hill toward the city. When we reached the Hillel school again, Gamaliel
led us to a bench outside, where he squeezed his big body between us.

“I do not wish to compete with Shammai for your son, Y'honatan, but let me simply leave it at this: Should Saul decide to enroll here, I will personally be his teacher. If my opinions trouble you in anyway, perhaps you would be more comfortable elsewhere. Whatever you decide, you may rest assured I remain at your service. Even if you choose to study at Shammai, you know where I am and should feel free to call upon me at any time if I can be of service to you. Questions?”

“One more,” Father said, “if I may. Would you summarize the difference between the two schools then that Shammai emphasizes the letter of the Law—in the Pharisaical tradition—while Hillel is more concerned with the spirit of the Law?”

The rabbi cocked his head. “Insightful,” he said. “I would add this: I would not want to speak for our friends at Shammai, but I can say that the spirit of the Law always keeps the person in mind. The Person of God and the Jewish person.”

“Interesting,” Father said. “One doesn't often hear God referred to as a Person.”

“And isn't that tragic? The God of the Scriptures, the One your son and I have confessed to wanting to walk and talk with personally, is clearly a Person! Oh, He is the same yesterday, today, and forever, and in Him is neither change nor even shadow of turning. He is above all, Creator of all, and He sits high above the heavens. There is no God like Him. But He walked and talked with Adam in the garden.
He spoke to Moses and Abraham and Isaac and Jacob. That is the Person I want to know as revealed in His Law.”

Gamaliel turned to me. “Questions?”

I shook my head. “Not about Hillel. I am curious, though. Why is it your daughter does not look like you and your son?”

“Saul!” Father shouted.

“No,” Gamaliel said, laughing. “It's all right. The simple truth is that I married a beautiful woman who was somehow able to overcome my plainness to give me a handsome son and a beautiful daughter. Naomi, thankfully, has her mother's coloring and appearance.”

The big round man slapped his thighs and rose, putting a hand on my shoulder. “You, sir, would be welcome to begin your studies here—if Hillel is your choice—two months hence, if you would just let me know within the week.”

“Oh,” Father said, “I expect we'll be able to announce our decision by tomorrow.”

“I'll look forward to hearing from you then, either way.”

“Either way?” I said.
Was he just being polite? Wouldn't he, like Rabbi Enosh at the Shammai school, rather not see us if we decided against him?

“Of course,” Nasi said. “I expect your decision will be made with much thought, and whether you choose to come here or not, it has been my pleasure to meet you both, and I wish you all God's blessings.”