Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: A MIGHTY FORTRESS (don't write about the song) (04/23/15)
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TITLE: The Living Testament | Previous Challenge Entry
By Marlene Bonney
04/28/15 -
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Marcus stopped to take a refreshing drink from his water pouch secured safely around his slender waist before continuing on. There was no need for hurry now. The Romans, those infidels, would not dare to follow. Under their laws, it would be considered grave desecration to enter a tomb without permission.
Although a relatively new believer, Marcus had been trained well to find fellow Christians in this underground catacomb haven. Here he would be joining the others who had gone before him. His sister, Miriam, his brothers, Desimus and Phineas; and, of course, his long-suffering mother, Naomi, would greet him with open arms. Still reeling from his father, Reuben’s murder by a Roman soldier a year ago, his absence was still a lingering hole. Like a wandering pipe-dreamer, Marcus allowed himself to imagine what it would have been like if his family was still intact and living in their previous town, surrounded by friends and neighbors.
Then, Jesus had come, and nothing would ever be the same. Jesus, with His eternal optimism and radical spirit, Who could see through a hypocrite like a penetrating spyglass. He had lived amongst them briefly, touting revolutionary insights into the very marrow of their bared souls, until Marcus’ former beliefs were threatened and now, ultimately drowned in the sea of His love.
“How I wish I had listened to His teachings and believed earlier,” knowing that his father would still be with them if he had not waited for his entire family to accompany the other persecuted Christians in their escape.
It was a miracle that Marcus’ fragmented family was able to leave him behind while they traveled here with Malcolm and Hannah, a childless couple who were amongst the first of their village converts.
“My son, I cannot change your heart or convince you into our new-found faith, but neither can I sacrifice my other children’s lives. I will pray for your salvation and your safety,” Naomi’s grief-stricken face etched on his heart as deep as the secret fish symbols he was following embedded in the sand of this haven of catacombs.
Here he would be safe to join all those who had gone before him. Amazed at the intricate complexity of the underground village, complete with hidden passageways and secret rooms, these tunnel towns were buried under the very noses of the Christians’ dreaded enemies. Some of the rock formations had chimney-like eruptions, these identifying the worship rooms for gathering and praying and discussing scripture. History would prove the buried cities that became as natural to Jewish culture as breathing. Even stables and storehouses had been dug into this labyrinth of soft stone carved into the hills by ancient volcanic-eruption ash.
“Oh, my son, my son,” Naomi’s deeply wrinkled brow clearing as she tremulously smiled while her other grown children watched at her side, “come, there is much to show you. . .”
“It was Johanna, Desimus, who opened my eyes to the Truth. She had been so bitter, you remember—hating the Roman centurion who cut down her husband so ruthlessly? All of a sudden, after Jesus’ crucifixion, she changed. She came to visit me before embarking on her trip here and told me what really happened there on Golgatha. She was there to support Mary, who was prostrate with grief at the foot of Jesus’ cross. She saw the blood trickling from His brow, His hands and His feet and heard clearly His words of forgiveness the that thief in agony on the cross next to Him. She said that when Jesus wailed, ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do’*, something broke inside her tortured heart, melting away her worshiped anger like a potter’s churning formation dissolving into a mass of liquid at his feet . . .”
Marcus was astonished and gradually, as he sought out other Christian survivors, the Truth chipped away the layers of resistance, like a peeling onion, until his very core became exposed.
“Everything fell into place in my mind, and I was set free from my unbelief.”
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*The Bible, Luke 23:34.
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Cappadocia contains several underground cities used by early Christians before their religion was accepted. They contain vast networks of creative defense traps, as well as pictorial paintings on the caves’ walls telling The Story so that the illiterate congregants could read it.
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