Authors: Jerry B. Jenkins
I, Saul (43 page)
Augie dialed his father's hospital room.
The Unspeakable Gift
FROM PAUL'S MEMOIR
Though my ministry since the time of my miraculous conversion has consisted of preaching and writing in defense of the gospel of Christ, I confess it is difficult for me to put into words how I felt at that time. In the years since hearing the voice of Christ, I have daily strived to preach the gospel to all men, primarily Gentilesâfor this is what I was called to do from the moment I became a believer. But in all that time, I have never witnessed another conversion like my own.
I know it is the Holy Spirit who is responsible, but I feel privileged to have played a part in enlightening many men and women. Yet to convert my own mind and heart,
God used none of the methods I have employed to persuade people. I was dead in my trespasses and sins, so deeply entrenched that not only did I not see them as such, but I also thoroughly believed in my own righteousness. Though to that time I had never succeeded in developing the kind of relationship with God I had longed for, I could not have been more learned and devout and strict in obeying the laws of God.
It took a miracle to make the old things pass away and for all things to become new. There could have been no talking me into this. I went from a life of service to God characterized by persecuting people who believed Jesus was the Messiah, to being convinced by Christ Himself that He was indeed the Son of God. I traveled to Damascus as one person and arrived there as someone else entirely.
If it stunned and amazed people who knew me by reputation, imagine what it was like for me to barge into a synagogue one day to drag out the believers in Jesus, and the next day go there to proclaim that He was the Messiah.
When threats upon my life drove me from Damascus, I could not go back to my home. If I was a marked man in Damascus, I was a dead man in Jerusalem. It would have been a thrill to steal back there one night and inform the original disciples of Jesus that I had become one of them.
But why would they believe me? Even when I tried this, three years later, they were skeptical. I had to have others speak in my defense and then spend months earning their trust. And rightly so.
In the meantime, I realized God had used the threat
on my life to send me to Arabia, where He could best reveal His Son. During nearly three years thereâwhich, for the first and only time I will reveal in detail followingthese thoughtsâGod Himself impressed upon me all the truths that would characterize my ministry. At one point while I was alone, meditating and enjoying that sweet fellowship with God the patriarchs had enjoyedâwhich had so eluded me when I was a zealous clericâI was afforded a singular privilege so overwhelming that I dare not describe its details. All I will say is that I was supernaturally transported into the third heaven where I heard things I dare not utter.
I have come to believe that this miraculous journey was bestowed upon me because God, in His infinite wisdom, knew the trials I would later endure for His sake. He had called me to a life of endless work and self-sacrifice I might not have been able to survive, but for the memory of that gift.
I have often been persecuted and will ultimately give my life for the cause of Christ. Somehow God was preparing me for all this by a unique manifestation. I took with me a knowledge of the heavenlies that gave me confidence and assurance that what I was teaching was true and that I would return to that matchless realm when my days on earth ended.
I returned briefly to Damascus before finally returning to Jerusalem to meet with Peter for fifteen days. I saw none of the other apostles except James, the Lord's brother. Afterward I ministered in Syria and Cilicia. For years I was unknown by face to the churches of Judea which were in
Christ. They heard, “He who formerly persecuted us now preaches the faith which he once tried to destroy.” And they praised God for my testimony.
Eventually Barnabas took me to the apostles and declared to them that I had seen the Lord and that He had spoken to me, and that I had preached fervently at Damascus in the name of Jesus. Finally I was able to minister with the disciples, speaking boldly in the name of the Lord Jesus and disputing the Hellenists, another faction of Jews who attempted to kill me. The brethren sent me to Tarsus again, and soon the churches throughout all Judea, Galilee, and Samaria walked in the fear of the Lord and in the comfort of the Holy Spirit.
The same zeal I had brought to my former life I now dedicated to the gospel of Christ, which I determined to proclaim for as long as the Lord Himself gave me breath. I am eager to recite here many details I have only summarized in many letters to the churches.
Solving the Riddle
MONDAY, MAY 12, 9:30 P.M.
“August!” his mother said. “Edsel, it's Augustine!”
“I had an inkling when you shouted his name, Marie.”
“Here, you can hold it yourself. Say hi!”
“Your mother's going to tell me every word to say, Augustine.”
“Be nice, Dad. She's just excited.”
“Don't I know it.”
Augie was stunned to hear his father sounding much better. He seemed to be working to make each word understood, but he was making sense. “How're you feeling, Dad?”
“Like I've been in a coma. How's Rome? Have you seen Michaels?”
“Yes, I told you I was with him. Listen, Dad, are you up for a puzzle?”
“I'd love to do a crossword or an anagram again, but I can't hold a pen.”
“A friend of mine hid something for Roger and me to find, and he left us a clue we can't figure out. Let Mom listen in and she can write this down for you.” Augie heard his mother rustling to find pen and paper.
Augie described the plain white sheet and lavender ink, and then read the handwritten couplet. “It's from a poem from theâ.”
“I know,” his father said. “St. Bernard in the 1100s. The thing's been made into a Catholic hymn.”
Edsel Knox's prodigious mind never ceased to amaze Augie.
“Could be something simple if the author is the key,” his father said. “He was known as Bernard of Clairvaux. French. He was an abbot, âa doctor of the church' they called him at one point. He judged pope candidates once. Considered Pope Eugenius his best friend. Kind of a friend to Protestants now, because he was skeptical of the Immaculate Conception of Mary and an early proponent of justification. That help at all?”
“I'm scribbling, Dad. I don't know. Somehow we've got to narrow this down.”
“I'll work on it.”
“I appreciate it. You need a goal, something to shoot for? I'm going to ask Sofia to marry me in Texas in August.”
“That's not the way these things go, Augustine. Her father will be paying for the wedding, so you just show up, I assume in Greece.”
“But if we have it in Texas, I'd love to have you there.”
“Who cares if I'm there?”
“I just told you who cares.”
The scandal exploded in the Italian press and swept the globe by late morning. Sofia's father's involvement seemed to shock all of Greece, and the prosecution laughed off his lawyer's attempt to plea bargain in exchange for testifying against Aldo Sardinia. The chief prosecutor told Emmanuel, “Se
avessi qualsiasi ulteriori prove contro Mr Sardinia, mi sentirei colpevole per l'eccesso”
[“If I had any more evidence against Mr. Sardinia, I would feel guilty about overkill.”]
Sofia rushed home to be with her mother, who was desperate to defend herself against the vultures already circling their business. Augie had driven her to the airport at dawn and offered to fly with her, but Sofia insisted he stay and work with Emmanuel and Roger until they found Paul's memoir.
“Does your mother believe the charges, Sofia? Or will your dad convince her he was framed?”
“Too late for that. The first thing she said was, âIt's true, isn't it?' She told me she knew his reputation would come crashing down someday, because she was once in charge of his books.”
Georgio Emmanuel said Malfees would wind up in an Italian prison. If that happened, Augie hoped to persuade Mrs. Trikoupis to move to the United States with her daughter, but all in good time.
Roger immediately moved back to his apartment and began letting his hair and beard grow again. He broadcast online notices to travel companies, letting them know he was back in business. The press hounded him for interviews, few of which he turned down.
Augie phoned Les Moore to let him know he would be at least a few days late for his summer-school assignment, expecting a threat or at
least a lecture. But Les said, “You're all over the news here. It's as if you're our own Indiana Jones. Don't come back without the memoir!”
Augie laughed. “It won't likely ever leave Italy again, but I'll be back as soon as I can.”
Augie talked to his parents at least once a day, careful not to push but eager to know whether his dad had made any progress on the puzzle. Meanwhile Augie worked with five analysts assigned to Emmanuel's office. They had been poring over Giordano's letter and generating lists of potential target cities suggested by every detail they could uncover about St. Bernard of Clairvaux.
Despite the colonel injecting himself into the effort, they had accomplished little. Italians were already clamoring for recovery of the artifact, and guesses to its nature ranged from the Holy Grail to the Ark of the Covenant.
Colonel Emmanuel was giving a pep talk to Augie and the other analysts, urging them to concentrate on Greece, “because despite all the other possibilities raised by the Bernard connection, one thing we know for sure is that Giordano flew there and back the day after the heist.”
Augie had forgotten to silence his phone, so when it rang he stepped into the hall.