Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 31

 

Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 31

© 2021 by Amber Wright

LET NOTHING BE LOST

Ephesus Prison.

“Yes, I am a Christian.” Marcus shivered from both the cold and pain, out in the courtyard of the Ephesus prison.

He had been found out shortly after he'd asked the man about the new temple. He should have known to keep his mouth shut. Now he winced as the whip lashed down upon him another time. He was used to pain, but not this kind.

“Ah, a little Christian,” the man hiccuped out, curling his whip into a coil, snorting and spitting only inches from him.

“Yes, I am.” Marcus felt the welts on his shoulders sting as a shock of salty water poured onto them. He clenched his teeth but made no noise.

“Obstinate,” the man handed his coiled whip to a slave.

Marcus yanked his robe back onto his shivering shoulders. “Where do you take me?”

The man laughed coarsely with another hiccup.

Marcus stiffened.

“Where, Christian? Where I take you? You ask.”

Marcus pulled his hood on, watched the drunk man laugh at him and his fists flexed at his sides, ready to strike him. He had taken on more than this measly Roman in his days in the mountains. But then, he reminded himself, that was before. Now you’re a Christian. Marcus, bide your time. This Roman will have his reward. Tomorrow is a new day. Instead of fighting, he asked in a steady tone. “Where do you take me?”

“Patmos.”

~

Junia yawned, filling her lungs with oxygen. It was tough sitting there in the middle of the night, awake. She should be in bed now, sleeping.

“Yes, it’s time to go back to sleep.” Eunice stood, stacking their cups beside the washing bowl on the table under the window.

Good idea, Junia sleepily stood on wobbly legs. They felt like gooey fish. Or rotten mulberries? She shuddered at the memory of her throwing those mulberries in Lucius' face last year. It had been an accident but she still felt bad about it long afterwards. A rapping on the back door sent her back to the chair again, her heartbeat in her throat. Marcus is back so soon—with bad news? It has to be bad news. It's too soon for good news. Please no, God! I cannot bear— She gasped away as her mother cautiously opened the door.

They all hovered behind her, Junia sitting right next to the door. When the lamplight shone onto Lucius’ face, she gasped again. This time, her heart stopped. That look on Lucius' face, his ashen skin and his wild eyes. Why was he in such a state of panic?

“Lucius, come in.” Eunice almost pulled him into the kitchen, he was shaking so badly. “What’s wrong?”

“M-my Meh’tehr.”

“Sick? How does she feel? Is it bad?” Eunice reached for a clump of ginger, something Lucia usually needed for her painful stomachaches.

“Dead.”

A deadly hush fell across the room.

Junia stared into nowhere as Lucius bitterly explained in short, choppy sentences how his mother had died. It took a full moment before his words sank into her. Lucia, dead? Killed by her husband, Demas? At least Lucius knows what his father is now—a murderer.

“What's happening?”

Junia saw her father standing in the doorway, worry lines creasing his forehead. What was happening—to them all?

“What’s happening?” Junius Gaius asked again.

“Lucia is dead,” Martha wiped another tear from her cheek, “and Demas has orders to kill us all.”

And Demas will carry out his orders, Junia froze with fear, without hesitation. Oh Lord! She whirled her eyes to the ceiling, Why did You even create him? You must have a reason.

“We must go now, Junia,” Eunice shook her shoulder a little. “After we have packed, we must warn the others.”

Junia nodded mutely.

“Yes, we must go—all of us.” Her father clapped Lucius a hug. “You will come with us?”

“Thank you but,” Lucius stood a little straighter and managed to pull the corners of his mouth into a small smile, “I must find Elder John.” His smile faded. “I have to. I must help him escape.”

Thoughts whirled in Junia's brain. When she focused again, she found the others wishing him farewell. Lucius was leaving. Quickly, she stepped up to him and extended her hand, her friendship. “God be with you, my Adher’fos.”

Lucius nodded, a twisted expression on his weary face. “Shalom, Adher’fi.”

Junia smiled. Peace had been made between them. She was friends once again with her childhood companion.

Lucius left into the darkness, and they scattered inside the house to pack for their flight. Junia walked to her bedroom in a numb trance, gulping down fear. The words of her nightmare came stealing through her mind, echoing its warning, By sword, by fire…you will make me very important. Demas’ chilling words which she prayed they would not come to pass. Heart still pounding with worry, she packed her belongings into two woven baskets. When would the door below her be broken down by Demas and his men?

You cannot measure the length of days; they will always surprise you, good or bad.

Junia packed her things with care, into two baskets which would crisscross over her shoulders. The second basket had a little space left and so, with the light of her candle in its candlestick, she searched her room for anything of value. She found the scroll Demetrius had given her on her desk, written in Greek, her mother's native tongue. She set the candle on the desk, opened the scroll and her eyes fell to the words, Let not your heart be troubled, and a calm rolled through her. After she'd read a few more line, she placed the scroll in her basket, stretching the oiled leather over each basket to keep it as dry as possible. The spring rains were still on.

“We are ready,” her mother spoke from the doorway.

Junia saw her mother's eyes looking tired already. “Yes, I'm ready.”

Time was short. Junia crisscrossed the straps of her baskets over her shoulders, wrapped her night blue veil around her head and blew out the candle on the desk. Would she ever see this desk again? Or would it be ashes in the next few hours? She chided herself for thinking only of her desk. What of the people who might be killed tonight?

They all met in the kitchen, packed with all their most-prized earthly possessions. It was a silent affair as they made their way from the villa, down the nightly streets and to where the others lived. They stayed in the shadows so nobody would recognize them. Mary's house was first.

Junia shivered as they stopped before her sister's dark, silent house. The day had been a tense day already—and now this. She kept gulping down her worries, one by fearful one. Suppose they were caught leaving? Suppose Demas came right now? Suppose— A furry object brushed against her legs and she stifled a scream. Suppose a jackal chewed her to bits? She shivered again. The door creaked open and the furry something ran off. Probably only a stray dog or a cat, she tried to convince herself.

The door opened fully and Junia's eyes blinded. The outline of Mary's husband stood in the doorway, holding the light that was threatening to put her eyes out. Cheerful thought, she half groaned, imagining herself blind.

Epaphras' hair stood on end and his voice was thick with sleep. After a few irritating croaks, he cleared his throat. Oh yes, do. I don't feel like listening to that frog, thank you. Get a drink. That'll work even better.

“Wake Mary and the boys,” Junius urged his son-in-law. “We must hide tonight. Demas is back in town—and has brought the Romans to kill us.”

“God reward him for his evil doings,” Epaphras muttered.

“Quickly now,” Junius whispered in a rush. “Pack your things, warn as many people as possible—please—and meet us at the north gate.”

Junia gulped down another worry. The north gate was the only unused gate in the city but it also led into the mountains—the wild mountains.

“Shalom,” Junius gave his son-in-law a crisp nod. “We shall meet you there.”

“Shalom,” Epaphras closed the door and the light with him.

Junia felt blind again.

“Now,” her father told them briskly, “to Rhoda's and Titus' houses, and then to—Bishop Diotrephes' house, if he will listen.”

I doubt he will listen, Junia silently growled. Warn the bishop who had not been receiving the emissaries sent by Elder John? Warn the very man who had made them so unwelcome? Since last October, the Gaius' home had been the meeting place for the emissaries instead of Bishop Diotrephes' room above the tanner's shop. She let out a breath, and put on her spiritual thinking cap. Yes, warn them that are unruly, as Saint Paul tells us to. But, she quickened her pace, Bishop Diotrephes isn't exactly unruly.

Junia glanced up to find the moon smiling down upon her from its nightly black sky. She had thought the right thing—this time. She would hold no hard feelings against anyone, no matter how badly they treated her. After all, they would suffer from their actions. They had no need for her added accusation...or her added guilty conscience.

They were already there, at Rhoda's house.

~

It’s just a rumor that will blow over, Bishop Diotrephes' words echoed into Junia’s ears as they walked towards Deacon Abner's house. Hidden in the shadows, the little group inched their way through the streets. A horse rider trampled past them. Junia huddled against the wall with the others, breathless, hoping the rider would not stop.

This was indeed a strange night.

Also strangely but fortunately, Nika was silent under her blanket. Junia saw her blinking wide awake on Andronika's shoulder as they passed a lightened street. She smiled with a grimace, Even she knows—and she is just a baby. Abner, what will

you do with this warning? They stopped before Deacon Abner's house and her father knocked on the door.

Abner opened the door with a jerk and growl, “Yes?”

“Shalom, my Adher’fos.” Junius greeted him cordially.

“Oh, it’s you. Junius.” Abner cleared his throat. “And what is so important that you must wake me up in—”

“Abner,” Junius' tone was brisk. “We must hide tonight. The Romans are coming to kill us.”

“The Romans?” Abner snorted. “They have never bothered us in this province before. Why should they now?”

“Because Demas has told them where we are. He’s leading them here this very night.”

“By whose word?”

“His son, Lucius.”

“Ha! His son trying to make fools of us, eh? Well, it won’t work. I’m not being rooted out of my home like a frightened rabbit.”

“Abner, think of your family!”

“I am!” Abner snapped, his voice turning smug. “And I will not have them disgraced from this senseless rumor.”

As her father tried to reason with Abner, Junia silently made her way to the side of the house where Abner’s daughter slept. Under the two-story window, she called up softly but loudly enough, hoping nobody else would hear.

Dorcus poked her head through the opened window, dark messy curls framing her face. “Yes?”

“We are to hide tonight. The Romans are coming. They plan to kill us all—with Demas leading them!”

“Let me dress. I’m coming right now!”

Junia returned to the front of the house, hoping Dorcus could change her father’s mind. But when Abner saw his daughter dressed and ready to go, he flared up.

“Trying to turn my own daughter against me! Dorcus, go back to bed. You have a wedding to attend tomorrow. You need your sleep.”

“But Pah’tehr—”

“Yes, I’ve already heard about this little rumor of the Romans coming,” Abner put his arm across the door frame. “If they think it’ll scare me, they’ll be very much surprised. Very much surprised indeed!”

“But Abner, you must—”

“I am a firm man, Junius Gaius.” Abner's tone was sour. “Not easily frightened like those who can be. Goodnight!”

Junia watched Abner snap the door shut. That man would not go nor would let his family go. He is indeed a proud man, she stepped back as her breath caught in shock. Like the rich young ruler who lost everything. As Elder John said, pride is the curse of man. She raised her eyes to the sky with one little prayer, My God, pity Dorcus. Please—for Polycarp’s sake? She moved her feet to join the others to warn the Christians of that city to hide—to escape.

~

Demetrius' bones ached. Where was he? There was no warm blanket over him nor a firm, comfortable cot under him. It was a cold, damp, dank-smelling room and there was water dripping somewhere. Then he realized. He was in the prison in Ephesus and tomorrow morning he would board the ship for the mines of Patmos. To most, it was the trip of no return. How long would he survive?

A burning pitted his stomach. Something was wrong, he could sense it. Junia! He leaped to his feet, chains clanging against the stone floor. He gripped the iron bars of the cell. There was a moon showing between wispy gray-tinted clouds. God, don't let anything bad happen to her. I'll face anything—but just let her live! His knuckles shook against the iron bars. He felt so wasted and weak. His mind whirled with madness.

What was going to happen?

What could he do?

Don't be a fool, Demetrius. Think of what may happen to Elder John if you tried and failed to escape. They would surely kill him. Wait. Think. But thinking crushed his brain with wretched pain as he flopped himself back onto the straw cot he slept on. He stared into the dark, watching the thin streak of moonlight shining into his cell. There was hope...even if it was as thin as a moonbeam on a dark night like tonight. He would wait and see what would happen. First, he would make sure Elder John would stay safe and well. It was the least he could do for that kind old man who had saved his life from a life of ruin. Back when he was robber captain, Elder John had stepped in and defended him against the bishop and deacons who had cast him out. It was Elder John who had spoken for him when he had no strength to say the words for himself. Elder John had taken him to Ephesus with him and had given him a home. So there he must go—to Patmos with Elder John. God would make a way or give them peace for the pain that would follow. It was in His hands, not his.

The moonlight streaked through the iron bars now, lighting his dingy cell. He lay there, thinking about the future and what it held. Just past those iron bars was freedom. The things which had bound him would bind him no more. He would not flinch from the chains man had made. He was free. Free to believe. Free to hope. Free to plan for the future. Free to choose to be free. The future lay before him, though his present life was trapped with Roman chains. Tomorrow the sun would rise in freedom. Tonight he must endure his disappointments and restlessness.

Tomorrow, Demetrius caught his breath, on the verge of envy, Polycarp gets married and I go to Patmos. Why! He should be happy for his friend but another trapped feeling washed through him. A few strands of straw poked into his back, further irritating him. He sat up. Why must I be reminded of the sins of my past? Still uncomfortable and restless, he thought on. I thought You had forgiven me. God, why this? He rolled over onto the poky straw, strangling a mound of it beneath his hardened palms, and buried his face into it. But I must have had too many sins to forgive. The air rushed from him, as if strangling him. The straw in his hands grew damp and moist. He rolled to his side, his face sticky and wet. The regrets of the past was hard to let go...and forgive. He must forgive himself. It would be the only way to survive in this dark, stormy world. He could not carry his past with him or else he would break with the weight of it. God, show me how. Show me what will happen.

A moment passed; no answer back.

A strange squeaking passed closely by his ears. Yes, tonight I share my chamber with the rats and tomorrow I die in the mines of Patmos, but that is not the end. I will rise from this darkness and find my place. I will know what to do then.

After this, a voice seemed to speak to him, And then after the people had been filled, Jesus had said, “Gather up the fragments that remain. Let nothing be lost.” That was it. The fragments. The leftovers. The time when life appeared hopeless, lost its meaning, or felt too broken for him to care. This was the fragments.

Demetrius said a short prayer and his peace was renewed. Gather my broken pieces, God. Let nothing be lost. Let nothing be without meaning. An urgent feeling came over him for the brethren as if he knew something horrible was happening. God, be with them! I'll take this pain. I can endure it. Help them! Most of all, be with Junia! His thoughts jammed as he lay there, not sleeping until the early light came filtering through the iron bars of the prison cell of Ephesus.

A Few Greek Words:

Fil'os: friend

Meh'tehr: mother

Pah'tehr: father

Adher'fi: sister

Adher'fos: brother