An Amish Betrayal

by J. E. B. Spredemann

  “Bishop David, our brother, has something he’d like to say to you all today.” Nathan nodded, then sat back down.

  David stood up, briefly looked at the g’may, then dropped to his knees before the congregation and buried his face in his hands. He knew it would be difficult, but he had to get the words out. These were his people—Gott’s people. People Der Herr had put under his charge. He had a responsibility to them. Just knowing he would disappoint them brought such sorrow to his heart. He was not the righteous man they’d believed him to be. Ach… I need Your strength, Lord.

  “I come before you all today to ask…” He burst out in tears, unable to contain his emotions. “I…forgive me…I have sinned greatly.”

  Except for a couple of grunts and a few gasps, the room was calm. Quiet. The congregation waited for David to continue. He was sure there would be no silence once he was finished with his confession.

  “I have taken another man’s wife—Beth Shetler—as my own and we committed adultery. The boppli she conceived and that has passed away belonged to me, not Uriah. Furthermore, I put her husband in a position that caused his death. I am ashamed of what I have done. I am a wretched sinner. Please, forgive me. I no longer deserve to be your leader. I understand if you want me to step down.”

  David felt a hand on his back. He looked up to see Nathan at his side.

  “Our brother, David, has already confessed his wrongdoing before Der Herr and has found forgiveness. I believe his fraa would like to come forward too.”

  David raised his head, keeping his focus on Beth. Her face was flushed red and her tears were undeniable. She stepped forward, then knelt beside him.

  David grasped her hand to offer strength. Her voice was almost a whisper. “I too have sinned by committing adultery with Bishop David King. Please, forgive me for my transgressions.”

  Nathan stepped forward and addressed the congregation again. “David and Beth ask that you offer them the same forgiveness as Der Herr has offered and extend the hand of fellowship to them. I have spoken with the other leaders and we all agree Bishop David and Beth should, at the least, be put in the Bann for a time. How long—and whether it will be permanent—is up to the g’may. Please prayerfully consider this. We will vote at our next meeting.”

  A murmur arose among the members.

  FORTY-THREE

  Dorcas Miller had proven to be a true friend to Beth. Unlike some of the other women in the district, who treated her like the plague or ignored her completely—even though their official shunning sentence hadn’t been handed down yet.

  Beth offered her friend a lemon poppyseed cookie to accompany her tea. “Denki for coming today.” Soon, no one would be able to come for tea.

  “Ach, I’m sure and certain you’re probably in need of a listening ear right now, ain’t so? I am here for you, Beth. For as long as the Ordnung allows. Please speak whatever is on your mind.”

  It was a blessing to have a female companion with whom she could share her heart. “I feel so bad. How could I cause such a wonderful leader like Bishop David King to fall?”

  “Beth, it takes two for what you and the bishop have done. Jah, it is a sin and it might carry greater consequences than other sins, but you and David are certainly not the only sinners in this district.”

  “I know. I just…I wonder…” She squeezed her eyes closed, forbidding the tears that were threatening. “I’d waited so long for a boppli. I’d hoped…I’d prayed…” She couldn’t even complete her thought.

  “I know this is not what you want to hear, but perhaps it is best that Der Herr has taken this child. In His presence is fullness of joy. While you may be hurting, I assure you, Beth, your child is not. He is happier than he ever could have been here on this sinful earth. Trust God to know what He is doing.” Dorcas took a sip of the tea Beth had served earlier.

  “I’m trying, but it is so so hard. And the hardest part about it is that I feel like it is my fault. If I wouldn’t have heeded David’s advances, I could have prevented all this. My Uri would still be alive.” She sobbed into the cocoon of her folded arms.

  Dorcas reached across the table, patting Beth’s hand. “There, there now. Do you have power to go back and change the past? Nee. And neither do I. We all do things we are ashamed of. We mustn’t let our past determine our future. We must move forward and learn and grow from our mistakes. The past is gone and we will never have it back again. But we have today. And if the Lord wills, we will have tomorrow. Let us make today and tomorrow count.”

  Beth nodded. “You are wise, my friend.”

  “The only wisdom I have comes from this book.” Dorcas picked up the Bible from the middle of Beth’s table. “Read it. It will help you find the peace you’re searching for.”

  Beth pondered her friend’s words, even now, several hours later. She opened the Bible. For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.

  Would she and David one day find joy? It seemed impossible now, but maybe…someday.

  ~

  David raised his head, set the bale of hay down, and wiped the perspiration from his brow as he noticed the leaders approaching. It seemed like that was all he’d been doing lately. Working. Trying to take his mind off of everything he’d done wrong. All the disappointment he’d caused. The shame. Somehow, he felt like he needed to atone for all the mistakes he’d made. He’d failed. In so many ways. If only he could make his life turn right-side up again. If only he could erase all the wrongs he’d done.

  Ach, he’d been expecting this meeting. He wasn’t sure he was ready for it, though.

  David cleared his throat as the men came near. “Would you like to go inside the haus?”

  “Nee, this will suit just fine,” Deacon Yoder said. The other leaders seemed to agree.

  Minister Miller looked David in the eye. Disappointment marked his face as though it had been penned with a black permanent marker.

  David had expected that.

  “You…lied to us.”

  David hung his head. “I did. I’m sorry.”

  “You led us to believe the boppli was Uriah’s. You acted as though you wanted to marry Uriah’s wife to help her out.” Minister Miller continued. “But the truth was, you wished to fulfill your own desires, your own lusts. And to cover your sins.”

  “I…” David shook his head. What had he become? “I know. I realize that I am despicable, wretched. I do not deserve your forgiveness. I do not deserve your mercy. And I certainly don’t deserve your friendship.”

  “I don’t know if we can ever trust you again.” Minister Miller scowled. “More than anything, I’m disappointed in you. You are not the man I thought you to be. Ach, David. We trusted you. This has made me question everything you have ever done. Whether you were sincere or not.

  “Tell me this. Answer truthfully. Did you take the money Saul accused you of taking all those years ago?”

  David felt like crying. He’d destroyed all his credibility. He’d completely destroyed his reputation. He’d destroyed the people’s faith in him. He wasn’t sure it was something he could ever restore. “Ach, nee! Never. I would never take money that belonged to someone else.”

  “Yet, you would take someone else’s wife? You’d take someone else’s life? Please, tell us how this is different. Or worse.”

  “Ach, it’s not. I was wrong. So wrong. But there’s nothing I can do to go back and change it. I would if I could. I’d go back to that day and do it over differently. But I can’t go back and make it right.” David frowned. “I have already repented before Der Herr and the g’may. I don’t know what more I can do. Please. Tell me what you would like me to do. I’ll do whatever you ask.”

  The leaders eyed each other in silence.

  David’s eyes misted. “If you want me to step down, I’ll do that. I don’t deserve to be bishop. I don’t deserve to serve Der Herr’s people.”

  “We…have been discussing this sit
uation, along with guidance from Bishop Nathan.” Minister Miller sighed. “We see all the good you have done in the past. You had a heart for Gott. We’d like to think that your repentance is genuine. And we’re not so naive to think that you would be perfect. You are but a man. What you have done is out of character for you. We see that.” Minister Miller put his hand on David’s shoulder. “We do not want you to be removed as bishop. We believe Der Herr put you in that position for a reason. And up until your recent transgressions, you have filled that position well. Probably better than any bishop we have ever known.”

  David sighed.

  “However, we do think it would be beneficial for you and for the g’may if you step down. For a time. We’d like you to use that time to become intimate with Der Herr, to find the zeal you once had. And to establish your own house.”

  “How long?”

  “We have agreed on six months to a year. We will see how it goes and determine exactly when we think the g’may is ready to receive you again. And whether or not you are ready. You and your fraa will be in the bann for a time as well, as I’m sure you expected.”

  David nodded.

  Minister Miller opened his Bible and read. “Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you. Cleanse your hands, ye sinners; and purify your hearts, ye double minded. Be afflicted and mourn, and weep: let your laughter be turned into mourning, and your joy to heaviness. Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up.”

  David had read the verses from the book of James many times, but today those verses seemed more poignant than they’d ever been. Ach, Gott.

  “I will do what you ask of me. But I don’t know if the people will ever accept me again.”

  “David, you must continue serving God no matter what. Did you mess up badly? Jah, you did. Will the people remember your sin? Jah, they will. Probably until they die. That's how it is with human beings. We tend to forget all the good a person has done when they mess up. Then we can no longer see that person as good.

  “But your sin does not define who or Whose you are. You have to move past it. The people may remember your sin, but Der Herr chooses to forget. And the forgiven you is who God sees. He's looking at your heart.

  “Do you remember all the good Der Herr has done through you? He wants to use you again. He wants to redeem you. Will you allow Him to do that? If you are willing, He can.”

  “Jah, I am willing.”

  “Very well.” Minister Miller nodded, then looked to each man present. “If no one else has anything to say, let us pray.”

  To David’s surprise, Minister Miller prayed aloud. “Herr Gott, praise be to Your name. We come to You today on behalf of our brother David, who has sinned. We ask that You turn his heart back to You and restore his relationship with You and make it stronger than it has ever been before. We ask that You strengthen the relationships he has with others and make them stronger than ever. We ask that You somehow bring good out of all this. Help our brother to walk in paths of righteousness. Help him to keep his eyes on You alone. Keep his foot from slipping again. Hold him up. Strengthen him. And last of all, we ask that You not make him the man he was before his transgression. But we ask that you make him a better servant, a better leader, than he has ever been. And we also pray that others will take heed, lest they fall as well. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

  “Amen.” The others said in unison.

  Minister Miller stopped David before he left the barn. “Just remember, David. Today is a brand-new day. You can start fresh. Your sins are in the past. They have been forgiven. They are behind you. Do not look back at them, but do not forget them either lest you repeat the same transgressions. But learn from them. Move on. Let your failed past be a stepping stone to a victorious future.”

  “Jah, you are right.” David smiled. “I will do that.”

  FORTY-FOUR

  Beth knew a conversation with her sister-in-law would be inevitable, but knowing didn’t make it any easier. She’d always felt her sister-in-law thought Uri was too good for her, that he deserved someone better. Apparently, her sister-in-law had been right.

  To Beth’s regret, she’d disgraced Uri more than she cared to think about. Ach, she’d become a curse to him. If she’d only known what would happen…

  Her sister-in-law now stood behind the closed door in Bishop David’s home, her home. Her accusatory stare made Beth uncomfortable. Surely, this was not going to be a pleasant visit.

  “Would you…like some tea? A snack?” Beth offered.

  “No, I would not.”

  Beth was certain that if looks could kill, well…

  “So, let me get this straight, Beth.” Her sister-in-law frowned. She paced back and forth. “You went behind Uri’s back and had an affair with Bishop David—of all people.”

  “Jah, this is true,” she whispered meekly.

  “How long had this affair been going on?”

  Beth shook her head. She felt her cheeks warming. The thought of others knowing about their private transgression unnerved her. “We only…just one time.”

  Her sister-in-law scoffed as though she didn’t believe a word Beth was saying. “Okay, whatever you say.”

  “It’s true.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Jah, just like it was true that the boppli belonged to Uriah.” She shook her head, then continued. “You found out that you were in the family way and you told David. And then the two of you planned Uriah’s death so that it looked like an accident?”

  “No, we didn’t plan Uri’s death.” Beth wished her hands would stop their trembling. Why was it that some people put her at ease and others set her on edge? Uri’s sister definitely fit into the latter category.

  “But David orchestrated it, ain’t so?”

  “I…I suppose so. But I didn’t know about that until after Uri was gone. If I’d known about David’s ideas, I would have stopped it.”

  “Jah, sure.” Did she always have to use that sarcastic tone? “But you were glad for it, right?”

  Pain twisted Beth’s heart. “How can you say that? I loved Uri.”

  “Jah, you sure did show it. Love doesn’t do what you and Bishop David did, Beth! Love is committed. Love is faithful.” Her voice rose. “And to top it off, you go and marry your husband’s murderer? Have you not lost your senses?”

  “I don’t…I sinned. I know I am guilty of that much.”

  “Beth, when you agreed to marry David, did you know that he’d had Uriah killed?”

  She swallowed. “Jah.”

  “See, I don’t get that. How? Why?” She lifted her hands. “Why would you…how could you even consider such a thing?”

  “I was expecting his boppli! What would you expect me to do? What would you have done?”

  “Well, first of all, I would never be in that situation.”

  “I did not expect to find myself in that situation either. I did not plan to have an affair with the bishop. He came to me.”

  “Yet, you consented.”

  “Yes, I admit that. Do not all the women think David is a fine catch?”

  “Well, you caught him alright.” She shook her head. “I’ll tell you what I would have done. I would have not told David anything about being in the familye way. I would have moved away, had the baby, then I’d have given it up for adoption. Then I would hope and pray that my husband would forgive me and take me back.”

  “I didn’t want Uri to know that I’d been unfaithful to him. He would have been devastated if he found out about David and me.”

  “There’s no way you would have prevented his knowing. And just because he is dead does not mean that he does not know now. You can be sure that he did find out. And now he also knows that David had him killed. I can’t imagine my brother finding out after he’s dead that his fraa had been cheating on him and one whom he called his friend arranged his death. I just can�
�t imagine the pain that Uriah felt when he found out about your betrayal. Where is the justice in this for my brother? He was the one that was wronged.”

  Did Uri now know what had transpired between her and David? The words she’d spoken couldn’t be true, could they? Nee, she didn’t believe so.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself. You have been nothing but a disgrace to my bruder.”

  Ach, but her sister-in-law’s self-righteous, callous words grated on her. “Would you please just stop! It’s not like I don’t already feel guilty enough. I know we did wrong. That’s why I confessed! I was hoping for forgiveness, not condemnation. Do you think that Uri’s death did not tear me up inside? Do you think that David and I losing our boppli was an easy thing to endure? I assure you, it was not!”

  “So you think that you and David are the victims in all this? Funny how that works. Well, I, for one will vote for David to be removed as our leader. If he stays, I will not. And I’m certain that there are many others who share my sentiment. David King is not worthy to lead our people. We need a righteous man as our bishop.”

  “David is a very gut man! No, he is not perfect. None of us are—not even you. But David loves our people more than anyone I’ve ever seen. He is a gut leader and he loves God.”

  “Wow. You really are blind, aren’t you? I don’t know how you can stand there and defend him. He’s a murderer, Beth! He’s an adulterer. He does not deserve forgiveness! And he certainly doesn’t deserve, nor is he qualified, to be a leader.”

  “Who are you to decide who is worthy of forgiveness? I would think that decision belongs to Der Herr. Along with whether or not David remains bishop. The lot fell to him when he opened up the Ausbund, he was chosen by Der Herr.”