Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 9

 

Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 9

© 2021 by Amber Wright

THIEF IN THE CHURCH

Junia walked home with a heavy heart. Seeing Andronika as she was disheartened her, realizing for the first time what her friend really was. Andronika was a streetwalker, a harlot, discarded, simply a reject of the city so painfully positioned.

Later as Elder John was sharing stories of the Master while He was still on earth, Junia listened carefully as she sat on a reed-woven chair in the courtyard where the setting sun was filtering through the lattice roof.

Elder John was finishing the story of Jesus eating with the tax collector Matthew and the other publicans. “The Pharisees questioned Him but Jesus said, ‘Go and learn what it means to have mercy and not sacrifice’.”

Jesus said, ‘Have mercy and not sacrifice’. Junia studied the sentence in her head slowly. Compassion is better than good works—although good works prove your compassion. For good works can hide an evil person, but compassion can never be hid in a good person.

“The sick need a physician, not the well.” Elder John was saying. “Go learn this saying, ‘I will have mercy and not sacrifice’.”

Have mercy and not sacrifice.

“We must and will have compassion first. Then may our good works prove that we are God’s children. Good works must not bring glory to ourselves, but to God.”

Junia listened to every word. I will have mercy, she repeated in her head. Then the voice of Andronika spun through her mind, I’m not fit to be seen with.

“The sick need us—everyone, everywhere.”

The words of Elder John branded into her ears.

Junia found Demetrius looking at her with a mixed expression. Whatever question he was trying to ask in his expression, she could not know. Her mind was on the present need: Andronika. She let out the breath she did not realize she had been holding, and made yet another silent promise. I’ll be her friend. I’ll be like Jesus—I’ll be strong for the weak. When she needs a helping hand, I’ll be there.

~

Demetrius cleared his throat before knocking on the plain wooden door. The door opened a crack and a man with a rim of black hair stuck his head through the opening.

When the man’s eyes fell upon the visitor, his beady black eyes narrowed into a glare. “You again.”

“Yes, me again.” Demetrius took a step forward. “I want to know if you have your payment ready or I will have to tell the authorities where you are.”

“I wonder why you haven’t.”

“I wanted to give you time.”

“How considerate.” The man’s voice was a sneer. “But I have no time for you. I bid you good leave.”

The door began to close but Demetrius stuck his foot into the opening to keep it from closing. “You have one chance!”

The man stuck his head out again. “Which is?”

“They’ll take as little as a single denarius.” Demetrius then looked squarely into the man’s narrowed eyes. “And they want your pledge of promise to pay for the rest of the debt. What can I tell them, sir?”

“Tell them to get the money from the Christians,” the man snapped and began shutting the door as his last words came out in little angry puffs. “They have enough! Their money seems to multiply every turn they make. Tell them that—and be gone!”

“I will not tell them that.” Demetrius felt the muscles in his arms tensing beneath his sleeves. “I will tell them the truth.”

“You do,” the man hissed through the slit in the door, “and I will tell your precious friends what you really are. They will not associate with such trash as you—a Roman debtor hound, the son of a harlot!”

“By your blood!”

Demetrius yanked his foot from the doorway as the man slammed the door shut. It was no use. That man would not pay his debt and he, Demetrius, would have to get the money somehow or the Romans would do as they had promised unto him. No, I don’t want to call Patmos my home. His brow tightened in concentration. How could he find the money in so little time?

~

Elder John’s departure left a void in Junia’s life. She missed listening to his stories about Jesus on the shores of faraway Galilee and in the hills of distant Judea where so many holy men had walked throughout the ages.

Shortly after Elder John had left for Ephesus, Junia heard a knock on the door. “Judith—and Nicolas, how nice to see you both. Good day!”

“Good day yourself.” Judith held a basket with one arm.

“Come in,” Junia gave Judith a hug and shook Nicolas’ hand. “Where's Rufus?”

“At the cottage, working.” Judith smiled proudly.

Rufus was building their cottage on a grassy knoll near the well—outside the Water Gate, nestled in a mulberry thicket. So far, the outside of the cottage was finished. Rufus had transplanted several honeysuckle bushes and delicate wild rose vines which he intertwined into the lattice of the porch. It was indeed a beautiful place.

“Working like a man, eh?” Junia tossed at Nicolas, biting back a grin.

“I am not betrothed, thank you,” Nicolas frowned down at her and declared somewhat hotly, “and I don’t intend to for a while yet. I don’t need to work my bones raw just yet.”

“Not even a tiny bit raw?”

“Besides, I think I’ll just marry a content girl who doesn’t require a cottage built just so, and thinks she has to have everything.”

“Ah, you can marry Tiria then!” Junia teased. “She already has everything so she’ll not want anything more.”

“I said content.”

Judith looked at her brother with an amused smile. “But she does admire you so, my Adher’fos.”

“No way—and no thank you! Discussion over.” Nicolas repositioned the large water-skein under his left arm. “Now, to the point, we came to request your majesty’s presence at…” He gave his sister a nod for her to continue.

“Yes—can you come with us on a picnic by the river? I have all the food we need, so we’ll not starve.”

“And I have the water.” Nicolas made a flat smile as he tapped the water-skein with two fingers. “We won’t thirst to death either, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Junia made no reply to that for Nicolas always reminded her that she worried too much. Instead, she felt her eyes sparkle as she turned towards the kitchens. “I’d love to. I’ll go see if they can spare me. I’m supposed to be watching Paul.” She grinned.

Her nephew Paul was her pet…but sometimes he acted like a lion pet. She found him bouncing on his toes at the table where his mother Rhoda was stirring—or, trying to stir—the bowl of bread dough. He pointed one chubby finger towards the bowl. “Me stir. Now!”

“No Paul, I said no.” Rhoda blew back the baby hairs that had fallen from her veil. When she saw Junia, she gave her an exasperated smile. “Are you still watching him?”

Eunice came in from the latticed courtyard, carrying four loaves of baked bread. “The poor shall indeed eat today.”

“Meh’tehr, Judith and Nicolas are having a picnic by the river.” Junia glanced at Paul. “Would I have to take anything to go?”

“Yes,” Rhoda said quickly. “A certain little b-o-y who is getting into everything.”

“If you would take Paul,” Eunice smiled at Junia’s half-stricken expression, “you can go. But please hold him.”

“I’ll try.” Junia grabbed Paul and placed him on her hip. “Paul, we’re going to see the fish! And you have to be good. Do you understand?”

Paul bobbed his black curly head, twirling his chubby fingers around a curl. “You good. Me good.”

When Junia stepped into the room where Judith and Nicolas were waiting, Paul squealed, “I go see fish!”

“I see you’re coming then?” Judith raised one eyebrow, seeing the little boy.

Junia nodded and smiled down at Paul’s enthusiasm. “Yes, Paul. We can go see the fish there—but on the bank, not in the water. The water is deep.”

“Deep.” Paul nodded once; then, he placed both of his chubby hands around her neck, leaning his curls against her cheek. “Go now,” he commanded in his little superior way.

“We’re going now, dear. Watch.” And Junia opened the door and stepped into the front garden.

They shut the garden gate behind them and walked on the uneven brick streets until they came to the main gate of the city. Then, the brick crumbled into a wide dirt road lined with narrow trees and bushes.

“Here goes the adventure.” Nicolas declared, in step with the girls as they made their way down to the riverbank.

“Watch out for thieves…and Demetrius.”

“Nicolas!” Judith hissed at her brother, glancing at Junia hesitantly.

Junia felt her heart stop.

“Well, doesn’t she know, Judith?” Nicolas gave his sister a frown.

“No.” Judith shook her head, her brown eyes pleading for Nicolas to say no more.

A sinking feeling arose in Junia, and she swallowed.

“She’ll know about it sooner or later.” Nicolas stated brazenly, giving her a sympathetic glance.

“Know about,” Junia took a bold breath of air, “what?”

She watched Judith bite onto her lip, a thing she usually did when she was cringing inwardly.

“You mean ‘about who’.” Nicolas said the name with a half-sneer, “Demetrius.”

Junia’s heart pounded with a vengeance, and her mind screamed. No! Demetrius can’t be in trouble. Please God—please no!

“I’m surprised you haven’t heard by now.” Nicolas briefly told her the news. Money from the church had disappeared strangely and some thought it had been stolen.

“Stolen?” Junia felt her eyes round in fear. “A thief in our church? How?”

“Yes, a thief in our church, Junia.” Nicolas gave her a dead eyed stare. “Somebody you might even know.”

The thought sent a shiver through her, and she hugged Paul’s small shoulders tighter. The thief was somebody she knew? Somebody she saw every Sabbath? Somebody who spoke to her in a well-mannered way? But who? Who would want to steal from the church? The complexities of life were certainly piling up all at once. Junia blew out her breath, and the rippling waters of the Cayster River came into view.

“Strangely enough,” Nicolas broke into her thoughts, “the money did not disappear until after Demetrius started coming to church.”

Demetrius can’t be thief, can he? Junia felt the blood in her head pulsating, threatening to explode.

A Few Greek Words:

Fil'os: friend

Meh'tehr: mother

Pah'tehr: father

Adher'fi: sister

Adher'fos: brother