Redemption at the Eleventh Hour

by Andrew Crown

  Dismas nodded and walked up towards the top of the hill. Looking out in the early afternoon light, he could see thousands of people seated in the grass on almost every available spot all the way down to the foot of the hill. He managed to squeeze in near the summit and sat down.

  Dismas’ head was still swimming with details of what Jesus said about Leah. How could she be cured just based on His word? It didn’t make sense logically yet Dismas believed Him. He continued to wonder about this when Jesus emerged at the top of the hill and a great hush fell over the crowd. Those who had been standing, disciples and townspeople alike, quickly sat down and turned towards Him attentively.

  Jesus held up His arms and smiled much in the same way that He smiled at Dismas. “Brothers and Sisters, let me show you the way into the Kingdom of God…” And Jesus began to speak.

  When He had concluded, Dismas was powerfully moved. He still did not quite understand everything. But certain phrases stuck with him.

  “Love your enemies,” Jesus had said. How could someone do this? Dismas wondered. Surely Jesus did not mean Romans like Bricius who had tried to rape Leah and gotten him whipped. He thought about how hard it would be not to attack the centurion if he saw him again, let alone love him. Yet Jesus had said anger was like a sword, and by loving your enemies, the sword would be removed from your hands. It was a very strange thing to hear.

  Jesus spoke about the hypocrisy of those religious leaders that claimed to be holy, but whose actions were anything but righteous. Dismas could better understand that portion of the sermon. He had known many a hypocrite, which caused him to doubt in God. Yet Jesus spoke of God with such conviction, clarity, and…familiarity.

  As the sun began its descent towards the horizon, two of the disciples of Jesus were talking and their words caught Dismas’ ears despite the noise of the crowd. “We should send these people away to go and get food.”

  “Yes,” agreed the other. “It is getting late and will be dark in a few hours.”

  Jesus walked up to them, and one of the disciples said to Him, “Send the multitude away, that they may go into the surrounding towns to lodge and get provisions; for we are in a deserted place here.”

  “You give them something to eat,” Jesus said in reply.

  The disciple looked alarmed. “We have no more than five loaves and two fish, unless we go and buy food for all of these people…”

  I should have brought some more fish from home, Dismas thought regretfully. It’s the least that I could do.

  “Make them sit down in groups of fifty,” Jesus commanded his disciples. They thought this was a strange request (as did Dismas), but it was obeyed. The twelve disciples fanned out and divided up the people into groups of roughly fifty.

  Then one of the disciples gave Jesus a basket that contained the fish and the loaves of bread. Jesus took the basket, closed His eyes, and lifted His head skyward. His lips moved and words passed through them although Dismas could not catch them. Jesus then divided the food into twelve baskets and gave one to each disciple.

  “Feed them,” was the only additional instruction.

  Peter came to Dismas’ group and began handing each person some bread and a fish to eat. Dismas had seen with his own eyes the five loaves and two fish that Jesus began with in the original basket. Yet every person present was receiving food.

  When Peter got to Dismas and offered his portion, all Dismas could say was “How?”

  “I-I don’t know,” Peter said excitedly as he moved to the next person. Dismas looked all the way down the hill and saw similar scenes with the other disciples. Each of the several thousand gathered there got their full allotment of bread and fish.

  Dismas was afraid to bite into the food, for fear that he had just seen a mirage. However, hunger overcame him. The fish was delicious and as real as if he had pulled it from the water himself.

  He looked over at Jesus in the fading sunlight. Jesus met his gaze and their eyes locked. No words were exchanged, yet there was understanding in Dismas’ mind. Have faith. This was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

  He decided to stay and sleep on this hill as many of the people were doing. As he drifted off in the soft grass, he resolved to leave at first light, so he could hurry home to Leah. After what he had seen and heard that day, he was filled with excitement to see what other miracles were possible.

  Chapter XIV

  The sight of Asher’s fishing village was a welcome one for Dismas after his journey. Even though it looked like any one of the towns he passed on the road, there was something about the familiarity of these specific clay dwellings and wooden boats that was comforting. He felt like he was home.

  He had spent two days on the road back from Bethsaida and he was anxious to see if Jesus’ words about Leah were true. While the journey itself was uneventful, his thoughts along the way were extraordinary. The miracle with the fish and bread was the most spectacular occurrence that Dismas had ever witnessed. The only thing that could possibly surpass it, in his mind, was to see Leah healthy and happy again. The hope within him after the sermon on the hill was boundless and kept him moving forward as fast as his legs would allow.

  His thirst, sore feet, and sweaty clothes were soon forgotten when he turned the corner in the road and saw Asher’s house. It looked unchanged from a few days earlier. Dismas didn’t know what to expect, but the stillness unnerved him. Had he arrived too late? But Jesus had told him that she would be healed! He slowly made his way to the door, unsure of what might await him.

  As he crept closer, he saw movement in one of the windows, and a shape hurriedly move out of view. The front door swung wide open and a figure emerged in shadows.

  Leah came bounding out of the house, looking as healthy as when he first met her. The color had returned to her face and there was not a sign of either blood or boil on her body. Dismas felt a rush of emotion. Jesus had done what He had said—Leah had been brought back from the brink of death.

  Her dazzling smile beamed at him as she threw her arms around his chest. Dismas grabbed her face instinctively and checked to make sure that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. She laughed playfully as he searched for any lingering sign of disease. Not even a blemish! They kissed right there in front of the house, without reservations as to who could see. Dismas ran his hands through her dark hair and soon the kiss melted into a long, uninterrupted hug.

  Finally, Dismas said, “I thought I was going to lose you.” He discreetly wiped a tear from his eye.

  “I thought I was gone too, but I wasn’t ready to leave.” Leah let out another laugh and kissed Dismas again.

  After another minute of kissing, it dawned on Dismas had realized he had forgotten all about Asher in his anxiousness to see Leah. “Where is your father? Is he well?”

  “He’s inside and as happy as can be,” she said with a smile. “I think he wants to give us some time alone.”

  Dismas felt eternally grateful to Asher for urging him to find Jesus. Only then did he begin to try to understand logically how this came to pass. He turned to Leah. “So how did it happen? How did you get well, and so quickly?”

  Leah thought for a moment. “I truly don’t know. I was drifting in and out of sleep. I think the pain was making me delirious. Then I awoke from a short nap, feeling better than I had in weeks. No pain, no soreness, and no coughing. Nothing. My immediate thought was that I had died and had entered into the afterlife.

  “But I called out for my father and he was right there in a moment. He looked me up and down with a shocked expression on his face. I thought he was going to tell me how awful I looked. But he didn’t. Instead, he said that I looked cured. The boils had disappeared! We both just sat there crying for an hour. Then he told me about where you went and what you did. I thought you were going to bring the famous healer back here.”

  Dismas excitedly interrupted, “He said you would be healthy upon my return and as strange as it sounded, I believed Him. I practically ran back here t
o see you.”

  Leah gazed up at him. “Amazing! I can never truly thank you.”

  “This is all so incredible,” said Dismas. This was the second miracle he had witnessed in the space of a few days. “I have so much to tell you about Jesus. He is the one who cured you, not I. We should take a walk.”

  “I would love that! Let me check with my father.”

  “And I say go!” Both Dismas and Leah turned towards the window to see Asher there, smiling. “Stay out as long as you like!”

  Happiness was written all over his face. It wasn’t just from the health of his daughter but also about the young couple’s mutual romantic interest. Yes, now that the specter of death was removed from the house, there would be a wedding to plan, Asher thought to himself.

  “How long was he standing there?” Dismas asked, embarrassed.

  Leah giggled. “I have no idea. Let’s go.”

  With the grinning Asher bidding them farewell, the two set off towards the Sea of Galilee. A cool breeze came off the water and dozens of fishing boats bobbed on the horizon, little specks of white on a blue canvas. It was as tranquil a setting as Dismas had ever seen.

  They strolled down the rocky shoreline at a leisurely pace, stepping around stones and shrubs. Dismas told of his experience talking to Jesus and how He seemed to know about Leah and her disease, and about the bread and the fish. He also talked about how he felt listening to the Word of God as told by Jesus. Dismas couldn’t explain everything as he was still trying to rationalize it, which he also told Leah.

  Leah listened intently, occasionally nodding. Even though she was not there with him, she seemed to understand the strange sensation that overcome Dismas while he was on that hill. She couldn’t fully explain what happened to her either other than she was cured, but she shared his sense of reverence.

  After Dismas had finished, the two stopped walking. He stared out at the water and watched fishermen in the distance cast and bring in their fishing nets. Leah’s arms suddenly wrapped around him and her head burrowed into his chest.

  “Dismas, I am sorry for being angry about you for your past. What is done is done. I had a horrible thought that I would die and never have an opportunity to apologize. This second chance is a blessing.”

  Dismas stroked the top of her head with his fingers and felt the softness of her hair. “And I’m sorry for hiding it. I’ll not keep secrets from you again, especially since you now know the deepest and darkest.”

  “Well that’s a relief!” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. “I love you, Dismas.”

  Overcome by a wave of affection, he kissed her again. They stood together for a few moments more before heading back home.

  “I’m not a perfect man, I admit that,” Dismas said as he helped Leah step down from a rock along the shore. “But I will live an honest life from this day forward. No more stealing. No more lying. I’ve found everything I could ever want with you, your family, and fishing on the sea.”

  Leah squeezed his hand. “I’m glad.”

  For that one moment, his life was unequivocally perfect, and he felt a happiness that he had never known. It was this moment that Dismas revisited mentally over the coming weeks that sustained him through the trials and tribulations yet to come.

  Chapter XV

  “They’re coming! They’re coming into town!”

  Such was the general alarm made by travelers along the road that led to the village. Mothers gathered their children and barricaded themselves in their houses so as not to be seen or heard. Like a wildfire, the news was exchanged from home to home. It spread to everyone except for the men in the fishing boats on the water. The same panic was on everyone’s lips: The Romans were on their way from the castrum.

  Visions of the entire legion descending upon their small village brought some residents to the verge of tears as their imaginations ran wild. As is often the case with rumors, however, the initial reports were overstated. Instead of a legion marching with military precision towards the village, it was instead a few troops on a temporary leave, looking for a brief escape from the monotony of the fort.

  The Roman advance consisted of just three officers, who were staggering rather than marching, full of drink and laughter. Although drunk Romans were not as menacing as sober ones moving into the village on the Empire’s official business, the townspeople knew that they should still be avoided if at all possible. Romans typically disliked the Jews, and the feeling was mutual.

  It was somewhat of a mystery as to why the three Romans chose this particular place for their recreation instead of the larger towns around the Sea of Galilee. The fishing village did not have a large or boisterous tavern or inn, only a small building that served as a central meeting place and market. However, that building did have stores of wine. It was inevitable that that building would be the Romans’ target.

  As the marauding soldiers passed by the first houses in the village, the townspeople made a point to remain inside and keep their doors shut. It was firmly believed that Romans, if they were not drunk with power, were drunk with wine and frequently were drunk on both. These three officers had bags under their eyes and were pink in the face, signs they had been in a celebratory mood for quite some time.

  “Where’s the wine?!” yelled one of them, laughing and staggering. His two comrades rushed forward to steady him, despite their own lack of coordination. While the men were without their trademark armor, their identity was given away by their tunics. Red with golden borders, their rank of Roman officers stood out in stark contrast to the drab dress of those in the fishing village. The Romans’ clothing was spotlessly clean as if it had sprung off the loom that morning. In addition to their regal tunics, they wore fine leather sandals and carried their swords in sheaths. They projected both pageantry and authority, despite their inebriated condition.

  A second Roman officer said to the first, “Surely this excrement-infested town has some wine. Eh, Bricius?”

  Bricius turned his bald, speckled head to his comrade. “Gallus, as Jupiter is my witness, we will find the wine in this town if we have to bang on every door!”

  He let out a hearty laugh that reverberated throughout his entire body and he had to cut it short as the motion bothered the six scarred whip wounds on his back. While the alcohol dulled the pain, he still was not completely recovered from the public flogging he had received back at the castrum.

  “We shouldn’t have bothered coming here,” said the third Roman who was the most sober of the three, though he still had several drinks in him. He was shorter than his companions and had a rodent-like face with top teeth that jutted out noticeably further than his bottom teeth. Perhaps due to his height or his relative lack of inebriation, his comments were perceived as mild suggestions as opposed to compelling arguments. He continued nevertheless, “There are actual taverns in other towns, with wine. They have women, too.”

  Bricius responded, “Tycho! Always so serious! There is wine and there are women in this town, and we will find both. Our reputation precedes us in other places, and I’m tired of being told the moment we get to town that there is no more wine. The great Magnus would probably be displeased if I threatened another innkeeper with my sword.” He again let out an immense laugh.

  “I’m not sure we will fare much better here. The people seem to be hiding from us,” Gallus observed loudly before releasing a massive belch.

  The three men wandered through the largely deserted streets that ran in between the modest homes as unseen eyes peered out from windows. They rounded a corner and almost collided with a terrified old woman, who muttered her apologies and tried to pass.

  “Woman, where is the wine in this town?” Bricius smiled menacingly, baring his brown teeth like a shark moving in on its prey.

  “There is some wine in the meeting house a block down that way.” She gestured towards the direction the men were already walking and hurried past them, anxious to get out of their sight.

  “Come on lads, we’ll ki
ck the door in if we have to,” Bricius said with another nasty smile.

  The Romans arrived at the mud brick building twice as long as the houses. Gallus tried the door, but it was locked securely, which had been done as soon as word of their arrival passed through town.

  “Are you going to make good on your promise to kick the door down?” Tycho asked the bald Roman somewhat incredulously.

  “After I take a leak,” Bricius said. “I’ll be right back.”

  His initial impulse was to go right there in the street, but then he decided that he should go down to the water, wanting to get a drink from the sea while he was there.

  Bricius left his companions milling around outside of the building, debating whether to break down the door. Maybe Tycho was right and they should have gone to a larger town, he thought. This little village was small and boring, and it was no surprise that he often overlooked it when he studied the maps of Galilee back at the castrum.

  As Bricius relieved himself near the shore, he needed to steady himself on a rock with his massive forearm to prevent from tipping over. He then moved towards the water and splashed some on his face before taking a long cool drink. Feeling refreshed, he attempted to stand up, but stumbled before making it all the way to an upright position. The wine he drank on the walk from the castrum was taking a greater effect than he thought.

  As he sauntered back towards his fellow officers, he stopped suddenly when he saw a young woman with long dark hair and tan skin a couple hundred yards away, knee deep in the water. She was filling a large ceramic jar, seemingly indifferent to the rumors of Roman soldiers within the village. Enthralled by her beauty, Bricius felt a rush of blood in his groin.

  Then there was also a flicker of recognition. This was the woman he tried to take back at the fort a couple months ago. He instinctively massaged the scarred whip marks his back and felt the faint soreness once again.

  Then he remembered the man she was with, who had punched him in the head and caused his scolding and public humiliation. Without Dismas, Bricius would have had the woman and been on the parade ground shortly thereafter with Magnus none the wiser. A combination of rage, jealousy, and longing boiled inside of him, which, when compounded by the alcohol, was a volatile combination.