Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 4

 

Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 4

© 2021 by Amber Wright

THE CURSE

The sunshine inside Junia melted into nothing.

Her heart trembled into a stop.

Turned into one big sore.

Grew so dark inside.

There it was—that pain. Once again, Andronika was being discussed in such unbridled tones. As if the girl had always been that way. As if the women speaking were so perfect that they could justly cast their accusing stones. Did they not know that their Judge would judge them one day according to their judging? Perhaps they would never know. God knew.

Junia looked away as she walked near them, passing by with a silent nod. Those women would never know how their conversation could affect a passerby. Perhaps they would never know that their words could heal a person’s heart—or threaten to destroy it.

“She’s the talk of all town!” one woman exclaimed, her face looking shocked but her attitude smug. “That girl of the widow Martha’s, Andronika’s her name.”

“What all did you hear?” another woman asked eagerly as if hearing bad news thrilled her.

“Well, let’s see,” the first woman tilted her head a little and spoke in a gossipy tone. “First of all, that low-down girl…base as she is…”

But what Junia heard was enough to make her heart sting with shame. Did these women forget the words of Saint Paul? What was shameful must not be spoken, especially in public. Besides, Andronika had not always been that way. Would they never learn?

“Why, you don’t say! Bishop Diotrephes should hear of this—if he hasn’t already.”

Junia recognized the voice to belong to Deacon Abner’s wife. She stiffened. What would they do to Andronika? None certainly sounded like they were ready to lay down their life for their brother—or, in this case, sister.

“He has,” the first woman spoke again, “and he’ll get to the bottom of this. Of course, there will be some issues to this matter that cannot be repaired, I’m afraid.”

The woman went on to say that Andronika would never be allowed to be in the company of her daughter even if she did return to the church. “Let the dead bury the dead, and let the harlot befriend the harlot.”

Junia stopped listening then. She had heard enough. She quickly walked away before she spoke words that she would need repenting of. Let her alone, woman, until you first give her a second chance! Jesus was certainly not a tax collector when He befriended Matthew. Besides, did not Jesus say to ‘Judge not lest we be judged’? The verse tingled into her ears strangely. Have I judged, Pah’tehr? If so, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it hurt this bad… from the other person’s point of view.

Junia blinked back the moisture threatening to pour from her eyes, and realized for the first time in her life. All were sinners at birth and believers by the grace of God. Even she—who had known no sinful days of the world—must be forgiven. Her doubts and fears alone were enough to link a chain as high as the Lydian mountains. She must be free from doubt, from unbelief, from hate, from every weight that would easily beset her. She must be free.

Inside, she felt herself jumble together as a crumbling scroll. Was growing up the reason why she felt confused? Was Judith’s upcoming wedding making her feel a little lost? Or was it Andronika’s falling that hurt her into confusion? What am I—a net of despair, catching all of the bad moments of life in one season? She rubbed at the tears stinging her eyes. I pray not.

Everyone needed a rest now and again, not an endless night of pain. She prayed she would find the path that led to the still waters that would restore her soul, refresh her worn spirit, strengthen her body and mind. She must be strong—to face tomorrow, to face the sunrises that would surely come. She would be strong to conquer the dark night with the light of God’s grace.

~

Elder John saw the daughter of his friend Gaius wipe her eyes with her peachy red veil. His eyes narrowed. What had befallen his Lydian friends? He stopped before her and she looked up at him with a startled blink.

“Elder John!” Junia stammered, a splatter of tears still on her cheeks. “It’s so wonderful to see you.”

“Why are the tears, my Fil’os?” Elder John asked her gently, noticing her distraught look. “Are you well? Is your family well?”

“Yes, we are well, Elder John.”

But he could still see the sad look past her small smile. “There is something wrong—that I can see, Junia. Tell me. What has happened since I last came?”

“It’s Andronika!” The two words came out in a sob. Then, Junia took a deep breath and explained about her friend who had moved into the city since he had last visited. “Now she’s on the streets—for hire.” Her voice cracked.

Elder John nodded, and Junia went on.

“Her father’s dead, and she and her mother were so poor they hardly had food to eat.”

“Did no one give them food?”

“We didn’t know. They didn’t tell us.” The troubled girl looked down. “The widow Martha says she likes to work for her keep. I suppose it was her pride that stopped her from asking.”

Then Junia’s words ended slowly, as if she had no more words left in her. Elder John knitted his white eyebrows together. What would the Master have done and said? He thought slowly, remembering it all from those distant shores of Galilee they so often walked upon.

~

“Pride is the curse of man.”

The old man’s words tore Junia’s gaze from the dusty street. Curse, she swallowed the fear that rose with that bitter, little word.

“It was pride,” Elder John emphasized each word, “that kept the rich young ruler from following Jesus. He was too proud of his wealth, of his possessions, of his standing in his community. Pride kept him from receiving eternal life.”

Junia blinked. Pride—one simple word had made a man lose his ever-after life forever.

“Do not let pride in your life, my young Fil’os. Keep it as far as possible for one day the meek shall inherit the earth.”

Junia nodded and gulped down her pride to ask, “What troubles me also, Elder John, is that I hear people talk about Andronika and her disgrace openly in the streets. I thought it was wrong to speak of shameful gossip for all to hear.”

“It was wrong, and it still is wrong.” Elder John told her quietly with a God-filled confidence in his tone. “To judge people and speak evil of them—though they may indeed be wicked—it is still wrong.”

He gave her a nod, one white eyebrow raised. “When the Master was here, He said ‘Ye judge after the flesh; I judge no man’. He had the rights to judge, being sinless, but He only gave us His grace when we asked.”

Junia nodded, listening, believing his words for she knew that Elder John spoke the truth.

“He knew that we are only human. And humans often make mistakes, all of us.”

Junia gulped. How true that was.

“And if the Master judges no man,” Elder John finished bluntly, “how can the ones who claim to serve Him do no less? Unbelief judges us—and Christ came to set us free from our self-judgment.”

Junia nodded again.

“Do you understand what I say?”

“I may not fully understand you,” Junia answered him truthfully, “but I believe you. When the Master speaks, we should obey. This is what Christianity is all about, isn’t it? To be a Christian means ‘to be like Christ’—to the letter. Am I correct?”

“Yes, that is true. If only the adults could see through your eyes,” Elder John paused with a sigh, “the church would grow in strength. You can only enter the Kingdom of God, believing as a child. Believing, I say, and not only stating a belief.”

Another mystery solved, Junia found herself thinking.

“Hold to your faith, Junia—the Faith of Jesus Christ—and never let it go for it will keep you from all the evil this world could give you.”

“I pray for God’s strength each day.” Junia smiled as she added, “My parents tell me that God’s strength will keep me from falling.”

“You have good parents. They speak words of wisdom. For when we pray for His strength, our weakness He turns to dust.”

“I will hold to my faith, Elder John.” Junia firmly nodded once. “No matter what.”

“I trust you will. And always remember when the tempter comes that,” Elder John ended his talk in a firm but kind voice, “greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world.”

“I shall remember,” Junia promised.

“Shalom, my young Fil’os.”

“Shalom.”

With those parting words, Junia watched Elder John walk down the street. She had met him with a heavy heart; now he had left her filled inside. Greater is He that is in me than he that is in the world, she thought wonderfully lighter in both spirit and mind. She summed up life into one sentence, When we pray for His strength, our weakness He turns to dust. Dust that will fly away in the wind of grace.

She would hold to her faith. To God’s promises. To life, God’s spirit. And whenever she needed the faith to move mountains—as now—she would ask her heavenly Father to fill her waterpot of faith. Pah’tehr in heaven, she raised her eyes to the faded blue sky in that narrow street full of odors of garlic and spice, please fill me. I need You now more than ever. Thank You. Amen.

At that, Junia felt the little pain inside her disappear and her heart fill with the sunshine of God’s joy. No matter what the tomorrows held, God would make a way. God would be her constant companion—even when Judith was married. God would find Andronika—in His time. It was all in His plan. His perfect plan.

Just as she walked past a shadowy doorway, Junia caught a glimpse of a robe. Her eyes locked onto the pair of sandaled feet just below a tan robe’s hem.

A Few Greek Words:

Fil'os: friend

Meh'tehr: mother

Pah'tehr: father

Adher'fi: sister

Adher'fos: brother