Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 41

 

Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 41

© 2021 by Amber Wright

THE WARNING

Junia stepped into a hushed atmosphere. Her heart stilled; her thoughts roared. Was there bad news? A list of the dead?

“Elder John is alive in Patmos,” her father told them all. “Not only he but our brethren, Demetrius and Marcus.”

At that, Junia's heart soared like an eagle.

“God keeps those who fear Him. This is proof.”

Her breath trapped in her throat, forming a spit too thick to swallow. God had answered her prayers. In this time of death and despair, He had not left them abandoned nor had He not taken their hope away. My God, You have kept my heart alive, thank You!

“Not only is Elder John alive but he has had a vision from God.”

A mumble of surprise, awe and excitement followed. Junia moved closer to her father, excitement welling up inside her. There was a scroll in his hands. Possibly a new one—the vision of Elder John’s in ink and papyrus? Maybe even written by Demetrius?

“Elder John, Demetrius and Marcus has sent their greetings, prayers and love to you all.” Matthias told them all.

Demetrius had sent his love to them. He was alive! It was too good to be true. I’m dreaming, I am… She stopped herself. Was the burning of houses, vineyards, villages and people a dream? No. It was all a reality which included being blessed by good fortune from God. In these hard times there was hope in the most unexpected, the unlikely, the unexplainable.

“It’s good to see you again, Junia, after so long!” Claudia smiled.

“Claudia?” Almost two years had passed since Junia had seen her. Her brother-in-law’s sister had changed little.

“Linus told us to come here,” Claudia gave her a hug. “My brother can be very commanding sometimes.”

“Just like Paul.” Junia agreed and found Paul grinning up at her, still holding her hand. She gave his hand a little shake and ruffled his black curls.

“I’m Paul,” he told Claudia importantly.

“I’m your aunt Claudia,” Claudia squatted down to his level. “Don’t you remember me?”

Junia watched Paul shake his head no. He had been less than two years old when he had last seen Claudia. After a bit, she remembered where Claudia had come from. “How’s Ephesus?”

“Horrible!” Claudia stood and widened her dark eyes like Linus did. “Turmoil. The people even in the church are divided. Some are even worshiping at Domitian’s new temple out of fear.”

Junia gasped. “How terrible!”

“That’s not all.”

“What?”

“One of my close friends is in the temple,” Claudia’s eyes fell.

“A harlot?” Junia felt her lips freeze.

“Yes, of the priests who use her in their pagan ceremonies.” Claudia bit onto her bottom lip, eyes and voice dull.

Junia’s heart tinged with pain. With a steadying breath, she forced the words out. “I will pray for her, Claudia. Don’t lose hope. Our Hope is always there.”

Claudia nodded, making a small smile.

“Now,” Junia smiled briskly, stretching one hand out in direction. “Let me introduce you to the shepherd family.”

~

As Andronika broke a chunk of bread to dip into her soup, her mind wandered. Junia was holding Nika beside her as they ate the evening meal. She brought the dipped bread into her mouth and slowly chewed. Marcus, her angel in the form of flesh, was alive. But a prisoner of Patmos, the most guarded prison in the Roman Empire. He may as well be dead—and Demetrius. Poor Elder John! Cold, damp, miserable place for a man his age. But God has placed him there…for He has given him a vision. A vision of things to come. A vision…of hope. She felt the tenseness leave her eyes and a little chubby hand grabbing onto her.

“Ma…ma.” Nika gurgled, reaching for her.

“Mothers are always the favorites when it comes to their babies,” Junia’s smile looked forced as her sad eyes betrayed her.

Andronika took her baby and tried to smile encouragingly. “Your turn will come soon, Junia. You’ll see.”

“In another ten years,” Junia shrugged with a sigh, “maybe.”

“Maybe sooner,” Judith leaned up with a little smile. “There’s always my brother.”

“Please?” Junia sounded distressed. “Let’s talk of something else. Like, we need to help Damaris, somehow.”

“Who’s Damaris?” Andronika gave Nika her wooden spoon to chew on.

“She’s Claudia’s friend from Ephesus who is a temple maid.”

Andronika swallowed, pain rising in her chest at the memory of days gone by. She listened to Junia who told her all about Damaris, the girl from Ephesus. As the story spilled, Andronika felt as if her own story had repeated but in a much worse way.

~

Demetrius dipped his quill into the ink and started off where he had left off several nights ago. He was on the Exodus Scroll now. He bit onto his bottom lip in concentration, Thou shalt bring them in, and plant them in the mountain of Thine inheritance. In the place, O Lord, which Thou hast made for Thee to dwell in. In the Sanctuary, O Lord, which Thy hands have established.

Matthias had told him that all the Christians from the church of Diotrephes were hiding in the mountains somewhere near Sardis. Only half of the congregation had been killed by Demas and his Romans, including Bishop Diotrephes and his family. Like sheep with no shepherd. Demetrius’ quill suddenly felt clammy between his fingers, Such as Diotrephes was! The words continued and its whisper seeped through his mind like a taste of unripe grapes in July, Like seed scattered in the wind. He grimaced. Or, scattered by the winds of injustice. Once again. He gripped his quill tighter. There was no time to think of the painful past now. He had work to do. God’s work.

Demetrius let it out a sad sigh. Junia and the others who he loved were far, far away—but safe. God, You hold us in the palm of Your Hand. A sparrow does not fall to the ground without You knowing it, and Your child does not cry without You hearing it. Let our cry come to You. Save us! And may Your face shine upon us, Your scattered seed.

Time to work again.

~

They were gathered by the crackling fire under the dome of the huge cavern when Junius Gaius opened up the scroll from Elder John.

“The Revelation of Jesus Christ.”

The words pierced into Junia’s ears as she listened to them.

“Blessed is he that readeth and they that hear the words of this prophesy, and keep those things which are written therein: for the time is at hand.”

Junia's heart pumped into her ears as she searched her soul. God, have I done the right things today? Said the right words? Forgiven all my enemies?

“John, to the seven churches which are in Asia, grace be unto you and peace from Him which is, and which was, and which is to come…”

The words rolled on like a majestic tune of a musical band, gently, powerfully, sweetly, fit for a royal hall, transcending from a royal priesthood to a royal Seed.

“Behold, He cometh with clouds; and every eye shall behold Him, and they also which pierced Him: and all kindreds of the earth.”

Junia listened, stone silent. Alpha, Omega; beginning and end. The Almighty. For the testimony of Jesus Christ. A great voice. His right hand held seven stars. Out of His mouth, a two-edged sword. His countenance like the sun. The words sank deep into her.

“Write the things which thou hast seen.”

Junia strained her ears. She did not want to miss a word.

“Unto the angel of the church of Ephesus… I know thy works and thy labors and thy patience… Nevertheless I have somewhat against thee because thou hast left thy first love.”

Repent. Do the first works else I will come quickly and remove thy candlestick out of his place. The words rolled over in her head as Junia sat there, mute. Where had she displeased God? When, how, in what ways? My God, instill in my memory to do Your perfect Plan. Your works alone, not mine. Please…save my family, my friends, my brethren. My God, we are only human and we make mistakes. Take not Your light from us! Receive our prayers, our repentance. Pardon us! She sniffed up the moisture in her nose and realized the others were praying around her. God was warning them—by Voice. They were being foretold what things would come. They had been given a vision of hope to follow the dark journey ahead.

~

“Come. I will show you things which must be hereafter.”

John raised his eyes to the opening door which was above him and felt his body sweep into the doorway filled with blinding light. The Voice that had spoken to him was as a trumpet, clear and strong. When he stopped, he felt as if he had taken a long journey and yet he was not exhausted, only a little out of breath.

John's eyes focused onto the panorama before him. A royal throne was set in the midst of a perfect rainbow, glorious and encased with holy light. Before the throne seven lamps flickered brightly and twenty-four elders sat upon seats, twelve on the right side and twelve on the left. And there was One Who sat upon the throne, His countenance as fair as jasper and sardine stone. Everything was beautiful, tranquil. John felt a wave of peacefulness steal through him, feasting his eyes upon the scene. Nothing was amiss. It was perfect.

Suddenly, the noise of lightning, thunder and voices filled his ears. The brightness of the lightning nearly blinded him. For a moment, he closed his eyes; then, his eyes fluttered open and his breath caught in awe. Before the throne stretched a sea of glass like unto crystal, beautiful and radiant like the morning dew—so awake and alive. He blinked a few times; then, he saw the four beasts.

The first was like a lion, the second like a calf, the third like a man and the fourth like a flying eagle. Each one had six wings about him, all crying, “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty which was, and which is and which is to come.”

When the beasts had given glory, honor and thanks to Him Who sat upon the throne, the twenty-four elders fell down in worship before the One Who Lives Forever.

The elders cast their crowns before the throne, their voices blending into one. “Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honor and power for Thou cast created all things.”

“And for Thy pleasure they are and were created,” John found his lips slowly closing shut.

Total blackness.

Light from a candle flickered into the entrance of the little cave.

“Elder John?” Demetrius sounded concerned.

John rubbed his eyes and forehead in circles as Demetrius set himself beside him to write. He blinked. Demetrius was addressing him.

“Elder John, I am ready.”

John inhaled a deep breath. “After this I looked and behold, a door was opened in heaven…”

~

Junia's feet grew numb beneath her as she knelt on the rock floor, praying. They were all praying, repenting, asking for renewal, strength, hope, guidance and power for the days to come. The words of the vision of Elder John etched into everyone's hearts, shaking them fully awake to the times ahead. The time of repentance was now.

Junia's life scrolled through her mind, eyes clamped shut, her tears dripping. If only she had been more concerned, there might have been more of them alive now. Dorcus’ face wobbled into her vision like an underwater scene, only the hues of color sharpened into clouds instead of waves. A sob overtook her as pain engulfed her and regret shrouded her. How she wished she had urged Dorcus to come with them!

“But I am alive, Junia,” Dorcus’ voice seemed to whisper in her ears. “Do not cry for me.”

But I gave you a horrible death! Junia screamed in silence, guilt tearing up her insides. My God, why…? Why! She bit onto her lip…until she tasted blood. Swiftly, her mind focused again deep inside her, crying, needing answers. Why must I always be in the way? Do the wrong things? Say the wrong words? Always? But she had to meddle into people’s lives, trying to help them her way. She had to ignore others, thinking they did not need her. She had to disband ideas and things because she had to be so perfect all the time. Why can’t I just let “good enough” be enough?

“Because ‘good enough’ is not meant for you, Junia,” a Voice whispered to her, encouraging her. “You must excel—to perfection. Accept no less. You are capable.”

Junia stopped praying, startled, eyes still closed. I do want to excel. Lord, help me. She felt her breath quicken and tremble. She clenched her teeth together. She had made her decision, her promise to try. A cool wind blew against her wet cheeks, But how can you excel, Junia, in a land full of sin? The question nagged her and sent a wave of hopelessness through her, fluttering her heart with agony, with question, with battle. She raised her soul up to heaven. My God! How can I excel to perfection when I am so imperfect? How? My God, I am so unworthy. She felt her inner voice rise into the space of time, slipping into the universe and fade into the depths of the skies, gripping each syllable with magnitude.

~

Brilliant light flooding his eyes, John beheld the One Who Lives Forever sitting on the throne, holding a Book that was sealed with seven seals.

“Who is worthy to open the Book, and to loose the seals thereof?” a strong voice proclaimed loudly, in question.

Complete silence.

John felt silent tears drip onto his white beard, knowing the answer. No man was worthy to open the Book. Then John heard the weeping, the cries both low and slurring, voice uttered through the air. Unworthy—not fit to live, that was the sentence of them all for there was no one worthy to open the Book.

“Is no man worthy to open the Book?” John rubbed his eyes, his heart ripping inside him. “My God, is our hope lost? Unworthy are we, man most miserable!”

The cries of the heavens wept louder, echoing along the corridors of space, filling the air and his heart with agony. His shoulders slumped. If there was no one worthy to open the Book, his life was finished—their lives were finished—for his name and their names were written in this Book. But if it lay unopened, they would perish without redemption. Inside, he felt blank...until a hand touched his shoulder.

A Few Greek Words:

Fil'os: friend

Meh'tehr: mother

Pah'tehr: father

Adher'fi: sister

Adher'fos: brother