Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 35

 

Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 35

© 2021 by Amber Wright

THE BOILING BATH

It was evening when they crested the last leg of their journey. The huts in the cavern near the top of the mountain looked warm and inviting. Junia felt new strength spill through her weary bones and muscles as she saw the little campfires, snug huts and people walking around. The smell of food cooking made her stomach roar with hunger and she trudged uphill more eagerly.

It had been a tough uphill climb since morning but now they had arrived, safe but starving. Junia gazed lovingly at the campfires cooking their food, its light flickering up into the dark vaults of the cave. Evening light glowed through cracks against the back walls, giving the back of the cave a fiery, misty atmosphere. Above, the solid slab of rock ceiling would protect them from rain, snow and harsh winds.

“Welcome to our home!” Dalmatia smiled as they crowded into the cavern. “Tonight we may be cramped just a bit but tomorrow we can build more huts for us all.”

Home—inside the cleft of the rock, safe at last. Junia smiled back at Dalmatia. Life had given her something to live for again. But tomorrow—we build new huts? The thought was so strange her pulse tripped up a beat. How do you suppose we build huts? With our bare hands? She suddenly felt as handicapped as Tiria now. She stared at her new surroundings, fascinated. The glowing light against the back wall looked as if fire was spilling through the cracks in the back walls, swirling around in misty beams.

“Thank you all very much,” her father Junius Gaius spoke for them all. “The Lord will richly bless you for your kindness.”

A chirping of a bird reached Junia's sharp ears. High into the innermost heights of the cave ceiling, birds flew in circles—high above the earth, far into the rock, safe, secure. The words of Isaiah stole through her mind, All ye habitants of the world, see when he lifts up an ensign on the mountains. When he blows the trumpet, hear. In that time shall the present be brought unto the Lord of hosts of a people scattered. A nation meted out and trodden under foot. Deep inside her, Junia sighed. They were that scattered people, trodden under foot.

A lone bird swooped downwards, flew back up again, chattering in its language.

Yet I will turn my face to Your Holy Temple and I shall be saved. Your Word shall strengthen my heart in the night of my pilgrimage. No matter how dark the night would be, the sun would always shine deep inside her heart. Junia watched the bird fly up out of sight. No matter how low her spirits would sink, her soul could rise on wings of faith. She turned to Judith, looking worn from the journey.

“Judith, where do we put our things?”

“Right here,” Philippi answered for Judith with a warm smile. “All us girls get this small hut for tonight.”

Judith gave her a tired smile, saying nothing.

“Go sit somewhere, Judith, and get some rest.”

“I'm hungrier,” Judith walked away with a peaked face.

Junia followed Philippi into the hut where a woman was making cots on the floor with another girl. Philippi pointed to the woman first.

“This is my mother, Prisca.” Philippi nodded towards the girl, “And this is our youngest sister, Tarsus.”

Tarsus smiled with dimples showing in her cheeks and around her eyes. Immediately, Junia knew that they would get along very well. She smiled, “Very nice to meet you two, Prisca and Tarsus.”

“We're not as nice as you think!” Tarsus made a fierce expression.

“It's nice to meet you, too, Junia,” Prisca left the hut laughing.

“Tarsus!” Philippi sounded horrified.

“They found me in the woods,” Tarsus went on with a twinkle to her dark colored eyes. “The jackals were raising me, and I was eating raw meat alongside them!”

“Tarsus!” Philippi left the hut this time, her face filled with horror.

“She takes me for serious,” Tarsus giggled. “Seriously, me? I'm harmless as a dove—most days, anyway. Do you weave?”

Once again that day, Junia felt handicapped. “Not yet.”

~

“This is where I eat,” Eli told him proudly as they passed a rundown shop. “We eat free. Now, you’ll want to see the north tower.”

“What’s so important about the north tower?” Lucius felt his stomach grumble with hunger. Maybe I’ll try Eli’s Free Place.

“There’s a story,” Eli lowered his voice and his eyes twinkled. “There was a maiden about a hundred years ago. She died in the tower and there she was buried.” He glanced around. “But don’t tell anyone.”

“About what?”

“She’s seen on the eve of every May 6. It's today and I'm going to see her!” Eli’s eyes danced and he rushed forward, glancing back. “Coming?”

Lucius rushed forward to keep up with Eli. It was nowhere near evening but…he had nothing else to do. After they had “seen this maiden”, they would go eat whether Eli wanted to or not. After making their way through narrow, twisty alleyways between uneven brick walls, they arrived at the north tower. He blinked in shock. He had not expected the Maiden of the North Tower to gather so many spectators. He grabbed Eli by the sleeve to stop him.

Eli frowned back at him. “We’d better push through. We won’t get to see otherwise.”

Eli led the way and Lucius pushed through the crowd behind the little boy. He stopped short when he saw the golden chaise and purple robes. Slowly, cautiously, he slid behind a very large man, keeping one eye on the north tower just in case the maiden did appear.

“It's the Emperor!” Eli whispered to him, nodding in the direction of the purple-robed man on the golden chaise.

“Domitian?” Lucius' heart hammered. The man who killed and tortured his people was only mere feet away from him. He gulped down a mouthful of nausea.

“Who else? There's only one emperor.” Eli gave him a frown, settling on his crutches, not impressed in the least. The little boy's mind was clearly on other things. “Now, watch for the maiden!”

“Of course,” Lucius gave Eli’s sleeve another tug. “What is the emperor here for? To see the maiden appear?”

Eli shrugged. “We need to get closer.”

But they could walk no closer. Red-cloaked soldiers stood with their spears crisscrossed, making a large empty space surrounding Emperor Domitian and the big bubbling tub that set on the flat stone street.

“Who’s taking a bath—under the open sky?” Lucius watched the bubbling tub send up a very high steam. Not a bath! A man is to be boiled! He turned his head to the men moving towards the bath of boiling oil.

“It’s an old man!” Eli gasped. “They’re putting him in the big tub. Will he be eaten?”

Lucius felt his breath choke from him. He knew who that old man was.

“Now, the grand event of today is,” Emperor Domitian interrupted the general mumble of the crowd, “our prisoner John of Ephesus!”

Lucius winced, moving his eyes back to the bubbling tub. Once Elder John was inside the bubbles, the burning oil would kill a strong man let alone a feeble old one. My God, You led me here? To watch another person die? Please no…You can’t! He is Your servant. His thoughts cut midway as the splash of Elder John going into the boiling bath sizzled in his ears. He focused his eyes onto the scene.

There was Elder John, head barely above the bubbling surface of the tub, looking calm in the face of death. Soon Elder John would die—and Lucius could do nothing about it. Once again, he stood hopeless as a person he loved was dying. His eyes froze. His body froze. His mind froze. Sounds wafted into nothing. He stood there, numb all over, staggering as his vision blackened.

The last thing Lucius remembered was a Voice gently speaking to him, “In all this hurt, My child, you will conquer. Lucius, I care. I hear every prayer you make. I know your pain—I’ve felt it before. But listen, watch. I do great things. Today I will do greater things, and I will show My power unto all people.”

~

Lucius felt something hit his face—a wooden something. His eyes flew open and he hoped his face or brain was not smashed. Head wounds were the worst and he needed his brain just now. He lay there, trying to focus his tumbling thoughts. Where had he been? Where was he now? He grabbed at the wooden something on his face. “Crutches!”

Lucius sat up. People were standing all around him, making loud noises. There was Eli, someone familiar—the little boy he'd met in the middle of a dusty street in Rome. The little cripple. But why were Eli's crutches laying on the ground beside him? And why did Eli keep pushing his head around people, his eyes glued onto a something that sounded like it was sizzling. The tub of burning oil with Elder John in it! He found himself on all fours, trying to stand to see for himself. He gasped as his brain functioned again. Eli, the cripple boy, stood on two well legs without his crutches.

“I do great things. Today I will do greater things, and I will show My power to all people.”

Lucius stood with a swallow, expecting to see Elder John floating in the tub, dead. He gasped again, this time struggling to breathe. Elder John was alive! He stood on the stone street in a tunic, preaching to the spectators.

“Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and on Him only. There is one God, not gods. Turn from your idols and serve the risen Savior!”

Lucius felt like he was in a dream until he felt Eli tugging on his sleeve with an excited voice. “He is a god! He could not die,” the boy said.

“No, he is not a god.” Lucius squeezed the little boy’s shoulders. “But he is a servant of God, called to bring us into repentance.” His motionless face slipped into a smile, “Someday you will understand.”

“My leg, it works!” Eli suddenly shouted, looking both bewildered and happy, staring down at his healed leg.

“It was the touch from God,” Lucius found a warmness steal into his troubled soul, his touch from God. “The same God Who preserved Elder John from death.”

“He’s awfully nice, isn’t He?” Eli beamed.

Lucius looked around sharply, warily. “Who?”

“God.”

~

Junia sat on the cave floor beside Tarsus. The shepherds’ grandfather, James, read from the Sacred Scrolls for the night.

“So shall they fear the name of the Lord from the west and His glory from the rising of the sun,” James read the words of Isaiah. “When the enemy shall come in like a flood, the Spirit of the LORD shall lift up a standard, and My words which I have put into thy mouth shall not depart out of thy mouth. Not out of thy seed’s mouth, nor out of the mouth of thy seed’s seed, saith the LORD from henceforth and for ever.”

Forever, the word itself comforted Junia like the food that filled her stomach. The Lord’s words shall be in my mouth. I have believed…straight from my heart. James taught simply and with truth, his short sentences branding into her mind. He shall feed His flock like a shepherd. He shall gather the lambs with His arm and carry them in His bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young.

Afterwards, they went into their huts to sleep. But as soon as Junia’s head touched her pillow, her sleepy eyes popped open. The thought she had buried inside her—ever since she first heard of Demetrius' capture—reopened. Where is Demetrius? Why didn’t Marcus return? Did the Romans ki— She could not finish. There was enough dead already. Must the grave demand still yet more? No more thoughts of death, Junia. Just close your eyes and go to sleep. Tomorrow is a big day. It will be your first time to build a house. She found a smile at that thought. The shepherd girls had told her that it would be easy. She hoped so.

~

The stars reminded Lucius of a million flickering candles as they strode along through the dark, Eli in lead. They had eaten supper at the “free place to eat” as Eli called it, and had idly explored every back street of Rome afterwards. Lucius dared not take the open roads for fear the emperor would try to boil him next.

Lucius was still amazed at how Elder John had miraculously survived the bath of boiling oil. But did he have that kind of faith himself? Suddenly the shadows were dancing with danger. Suppose a man stepped out from them and captured him, killed him? The endless, moonlit streets loomed on forever as he trudged along behind the little boy. He felt the nighttime keenly and he blinked with sleep.

“Do you have a house to sleep in?” Lucius asked Eli who seemed as if he did not grow tired, even after all the moving they had done all day. “I mean, don't your parents worry about you?”

“No,” Eli shook his head and grabbed onto Lucius' hand. “But I want to show you something else—really interesting. Come!”

“Eli.”

Eli froze to a standstill at Lucius' sharp tone.

“Where are your parents?”

Eli shrugged. “Somewhere. I,” he gulped, his voice pinching, “don't know. They left me! Soldiers took them when I was hiding under the bed.”

Lucius put his arm around him awkwardly. “Don't worry. I'll take care of you now. I promise.”

The little boy nodded and pulled on his hand. Through the darkness, Eli led them through narrow alleyways and more back streets until large walls and bright torchlight emerged into view. Lucius stopped. Prison walls. He tried to pull his hand out from Eli's grip. Has this all been a trap—to get me into prison quietly?

Eli jerked into a stop, wheeling his eyes back at him with confusion. “This is where I sleep. Aren't you sleepy?”

A Few Greek Words:

Fil'os: friend

Meh'tehr: mother

Pah'tehr: father

Adher'fi: sister

Adher'fos: brother