Solomon's Porch Read Online Free PDF Page B

broken, not by prison, and not by Walter. As far as Peter was concerned that wasn’t necessarily the good news. He didn’t consciously want Julie back, but he was still unable to rid himself of her influence, her presence in his daily thought life.
    But now he trusted God, and that meant Peter had given Him this problem to solve. Sooner or later, whether she admitted it to herself or not, or even recognized it at the time as a choice, Julie Morgan would have to pick a side. Peter prayed it would be the Lord’s.
    “The toughest thing for me, Peter, is the whole Christ as God, Lord, and Savior business,” Saul explained. “I’ve never been religious, until now I guess, but I have always been Jewish. Tough to go back on my entire family’s beliefs and traditions. I feel almost, well, disloyal.”
    “Do you know now that Christ is who He claimed to be?” Peter asked.
    “Yes.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Same way I know that you’re a man of God. The Voice inside me leaves little to doubt.”
    “Don’t ever forget that Christ was a Jew, Saul. He never stopped being a Jew. In fact, he fulfilled the law, the Old Covenant, perfectly since he was without sin.”
    “I hear you.”
    “Then remember, you’re still a Jew. Difference being now you know the truth, your ancestors rejected the Chosen One. Don’t even ask me why, Saul. I don’t have a clue. We’ll ask Christ about this someday, you and me.”
    “Do you have any idea, even a little bit, how weird this all is, Peter? I mean me sitting with you and Malik on this porch and talking about God?”
    “I do.”
    “I’m not sure you do, man.”
    “Try me.”
    Peter had been coaxing Saul Cohen along for a couple of weeks now, doing his best to get his new friend to open up. With Malik Graham it was like trying to control a fire hose when it came to him sharing his history, which had now become a powerful testimony. All Peter had to do with Malik was to be sure that the water was aimed at the flames and then get out of the way. But Saul, he was altogether different. Finally, Saul began to share himself with his brothers.
    Saul Cohen, in his words, had been a “disappointment” all his life. His two younger brothers were both lawyers, but he was quick to add that neither one would speak to him anymore, much less help him. His father had been an accountant, and Saul, being the oldest son, was expected to follow in his father’s footsteps. Seymour Cohen told Saul literally from birth that the family’s two room, modestly successful accounting practice in the Bronx would someday say “Cohen and Son” on the door.
    Saul remembered thinking that he would rather be dead than live to see that day.
    Coming of age at the end of the Vietnam era in the early seventies, Saul managed to stay in school through 1974 , earning a degree in accounting from Cornell almost by default.
    “I hated accounting, always have,” Saul told Peter, “but I hated the idea of dying in some Southeast Asian jungle even more.”
    As soon as his student draft deferment was no longer required, Saul quit his pursuit of a master’s degree. He had always played his cards close to his vest with his father, not wanting to risk getting his financial support cut off. Seymour Cohen believed that Saul was dropping out of graduate school in order to return to New York City and set up shop with him.
    Saul told Peter that all he could think about at this stage of his life was, “I’m free!” No more threat of Vietnam hanging over his head, no more stupid, boring accounting classes to suffer through, and no longer any need to placate his overbearing father.
    Saul recalled going home, getting really loaded on pills and whiskey, and telling his dad just what he could do with the dreary life he had planned for him. It was an ugly scene, filled with petty name calling and sharp tongues. It left scars that were not healed by the time of Seymour Cohen’s death fifteen years later.
    It wasn’t as if Saul