by Jim Pappas
"If it will give you any comfort, Ma'am," put in Great-heart, "I know of a righteous innkeeper who dwells on the edge of Vanity. His name in Mnason. He hails from Cyprus and waits outside the city gates all the day long to rescue pilgrims from the hands of evil men. With your permission, I shall lead us to his home."
"Permission!" exclaimed Christiana. "This is an answer to prayer! Lead on!"
And so it was that they came to the commodious home of Mnason. Now no sooner had the gentleman heard Great-heart's voice but that he threw his doors wide open (which can be a dangerous thing to do in Vanity Faire). As they were entering in, Mnason said:
"My! You all look so weary. How far have you come today?"
"All the way from the house of Gaius," answered Great-heart. "We had been here sooner but that we had a couple of feeble ones to carry part of the way."
"Well, no wonder you're weary. But do come in, one and all. Here, sit in my parlor until we can draw the baths and turn down the beds. My! Three lovely ladies with you this time! What a rare treat. Here, Madam. Sit thee down in our finest armchair."
"Thank you, sir," answered Christiana as she gratefully allowed herself to sink into the soft embrace of a generously overstuffed chair.
"Well, Mnason!" commented Great-heart. "The place looks even better than the last time I came through."
"Why, thank you, Great-heart," answered Mnason. "We try to improve it a little here and there between batches of pilgrims. Albeit, they seem to be getting larger and closer together. Would you advise another bedroom or two, Great-heart?"
"I would indeed, sir," answered he. "The time draws near when all who hear His voice will be coming out of Babylon. The end of all things is near at hand."
"Hmm. Then I shall do it!" he resolved. "Ah, how I look forward to the day when I will lock my doors behind me and join the last band of pilgrims on the last journey. But until then, my home and heart are here for the needs and comforts of all. What can we do for you?"
"Well," commented Old-honest, "you have already supplied our greatest need."
"Being?"
"Safety from the godless men of Vanity. I tell you, sir, the thought of these ladies sleeping in the streets and we men standing guard all night was not my idea of happy camping."
"Sleep in the streets!" exclaimed Mnason. "At night! Oh, my, no! No, no, no! 'Tis scarcely safe to walk them in the day!"
"So we feared," answered Christiana. "Surely you are an answer to prayer."
"Aye," added Old-honest. "Right glad we are that Great-heart knew of you."
"And so am I," replied Mnason. "My Lord has employed me to operate this way house and the more guests I serve, the more friends to give me thanks in the Kingdom. So now, what more can I do for you?"
So he had them to their respective places where they might bathe and refresh themselves. He also showed them a very fair dining room where they might visit and sup together until time to rest.
"Mr. Mnason," asked Old-honest as everyone was departing to their rooms. "Are there many good people in this town?"
"Well," answered Mnason with a wry chuckle, "let's just say that if we were to ask God to spare this town on the same terms as Abraham secured for Sodom, I'm not sure we would fare any better."
"Hmmm. Not even ten, eh?" answered Old-honest. "Well, such few as there are, is there any way we might meet them?"
"Certainly. But why?"
"Why? Why, because to we travelers, the meeting of good men is like the sight of the moon and stars to sailors sailing under cloudy skies."
"Ah, yes, of course. Grace! Oh, Grace, my child!"
Now at the sound of a feminine-sounding name, Samuel and Joseph stopped carrying their belongings to their room and waited to see who would answer Mnason's call. Then, up from the kitchen came a lovely young maid in the first full flush of young womanhood. Now although Samuel and Joseph managed not to drop their baggage along with their jaws, their attempts to avoid staring did not meet with any notable success.
"Yes, father?" answered Grace, with the open cheerfulness of one that loved to serve.
"Grace, my dear," continued Mnason. "Please go tell Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy-man, Mr. Love-saint, Mr. Dare-not-lie, and Mr. Penitent that I have a house full of pilgrims who would love to converse with them about sacred things. Please invite them to supper."
"Yes, father."
"Oh, and uh, Grace," he continued after a quick glance at the two spellbound young men, "Ask your sister Martha to join us at dinner tonight. I see two young gentlemen here who might be willing to share some of their adventures with you. Uh . . . with your permission, gentlemen."
"Oh, uh . . . er, yes! By all means," stammered Joseph. "Right, Samuel?"
"Hmmm? I'm sorry. I was drifting in my thoughts. What was the question?"
"Mr. Mnason here wants to know if we would like to have Grace invite her sister Martha to join us for dinner."
"For dinner? Tonight? Do you mean she has a sister?"
"Yes. Would you like to join us? Or shall I ask them both to sit with me?"
"Oh, no! I mean, yes! That is, yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, invite her, er . . . uh, them. Invite them both."
"What he is trying to say is yes, Mr. Mnason," said Joseph with a cheerful smile. "We would love your daughters' company for a few hours." Then in a quiet aside to Samuel he added, "Or for a lifetime, eh, Sam?"
"Shhh," whispered Samuel. "You haven't even seen the other one yet!"
"Who cares! If she is even half the woman that Grace is, she's better than we deserve."
"Hmmm. Point well taken," acceded Samuel.
"And besides," he continued, "the daughters of these heavenly innkeepers are the best cooks in the world."
"Hmmm. Another point well taken, chap. Best we get to cleaning up, eh?"
So before long, all of the party was gathered together for supper. The four young couples were seated along one side of the long table, while Christiana and the rest of their party were on the other. Now when Samuel's eyes met Christiana's, he cast a quick glance at Grace and then brought his eyes back to his mother's with a questioning look. Christiana looked upon Grace for a studied moment, then at Martha, and then to the head of the table at Mnason. He met her questioning gaze, made a quick study of Joseph and Samuel, and then answered Christiana with the smallest of nods and a slight smile. Satisfied, she then turned her eyes upon Samuel. At first, he could glean no message from her expressionless face and began to fear that what he had taken for pure gold might not have passed muster with the assayer's office. But after a suitable pause for suspense, she gave both Samuel and Joseph an approving smile. Then, with their mother's approval and Mnason's wink of permission to his daughters, the two young men began to weave a tapestry of love upon the loom of friendship.
Then said Mr. Mnason to his visitors from Vanity, "My neighbors. I have, as you see, a company of strangers come to my house. They are pilgrims from a far country and are bound this day for Mount Zion. But who," quoth he, pointing to Christiana, "do you think this is?"
When none were able to venture an intelligent guess, Mnason smiled and said proudly, "This is Christiana!"
"Christiana!" exclaimed Mr. Love-saint. "The wife of Christian?"
"The same," declared Mnason. "That famous pilgrim who, with Faithful his brother, was so shamefully abused in our town."
Upon hearing this, they were all amazed and Mr. Contrite exclaimed, "My! Miracle of miracles!"
"Aye," agreed Mr. Penitent. "Why, from all that we have heard of your former hard heart, Madam, we never expected to meet you on this exalted pathway."
Now at this saying, the water stood in Christiana's eyes and she lowered her head in humble gratitude to a God who could change a heart so hard as her own. Then asked Mr. Contrite, "And are these Christian's sons?"
"Aye," Christiana managed to say.
"Well, boys," said he, raising his hand in blessing. "May the King whom you love make you as brave as your fathe
r and bring you and your lovers to where he is."
At these words, the two young husbands smiled proudly and drew their companions close to their sides. But the two young suitors and the objects of their attentions blushed and lowered their heads.
"Did I say something wrong?" asked Mr. Contrite.
"Nay, just something prophetic, Mr. Contrite," said Mnason with a knowing glance at Christiana, who tried to conceal a smile that would not be quenched.
Then after Mnason had returned thanks, supper was served and all busied themselves in the pleasures of good food and private conversations. I overheard Mr. Honest ask Mr. Contrite how conditions were in Vanity Faire, saying, "Do tell, sir. How is the town of Vanity Faire nowadays? Is it so violent as it was in the days of Christian and Faithful?"
"Hmmm, nay, not quite. I think that the innocent blood of Faithful has put us all to shame and helped the town be quiet for a time."
"Ah. Praise God," said Honest.
"Yes," continued Contrite. "I can remember the time when the title of Pilgrim was a stink in the nostrils of Vanity. In those days we walked the streets in fear. But now, for a short while at least, we have a time of peace."
"And how is it, being a pilgrim in such a wicked place?" asked Honest.
Mr. Honest asks Mr. Contrite about conditions in Vanity Faire
"Well, frankly, Mr. Honest, 'tis a challenge to keep a pure heart in the midst of such pervasive corruption," answered Mr. Contrite. "When we were young, we obeyed the Lord's directions to flee to the country that we might save our children. But now, our young ones have gone on before us. We only tarry behind to rescue others who are honest in heart. Yet even so, we must be like Enoch and work the city from distant outposts in the countryside."
"And have you been successful?" asked Honest.
"Well, you may have heard of one of our converts named Hopeful," answered he.
"Oh, yes!" answered Christiana, who, with all the rest had been drawn into the conversation.
"He is perhaps the most famous to have fled these parts. But there are many more who have learned to read and who, at the risk of their lives, are studying copies of Christian's 'little book'."
"So we have come here in a time of peace, have we?" inquired Old-honest.
"Yes," answered Mr. Contrite, "although I fear it may be short-lived."
"Why, so say?" asked the old man.
"Well, as is always the case in a place without God, the morality of the place is sinking ever lower. As a result, those who feign religion are lobbying for a change."
"Oh? What change is that?"
"A raising of morals, of course."
"By educating the people in the Word of God?"
"Nay, but rather by passing such laws as will force people to be 'good.' But I fear that such attempts will result in much evil."
"Why do you think so?"
"Well, it seems to me, sir, that if a religion be of God, it will have power to change lives without the help of the sheriff."
"Hmm. True. Yes, very true."
"It further seems to me that the passing of a million religious laws will bring no power to a religion that has not God within."
"Hmm, yes. Also true."
"What it will do is bring into the church those who fear the stocks and the whip."
"Hmph! Law abiding hypocrites, you mean!"
"Aye. And bringing these fearful worldlings into the church will only sink the standard of Christianity even lower."
"'Tis true. So it proved in the early church."
"Indeed. And I tell you truly friends - let the church, any church, once gain control of the laws of the land and I know what we will see."
"What, sir?" queried Matthew.
"We will speedily hear the inquisitor's torture wagon rolling into every neighborhood and smell the smoke of a thousand stakes. But enough talk of our town. How has your journey gone for you? Tell us of some of your exploits."
So they told their tales, ending with the rescue of Mr. Feeble-mind from the giant Slay-good.
"Did you actually slay the vicious rogue?" asked Mr. Dare-not-lie.
"Oh, you better believe we did," crowed Old-honest proudly. "I wish you could have heard Gaius' mighty prayers and watched Great-heart's expert swordsmanship. And you should have seen Joseph and Samuel darting about his heels like two wolverines. 'T was a wondrous thing to behold!"
Then Grace and Martha looked upon Joseph and Samuel with increased admiration.
"Aw, it wasn't anything special," said Samuel with a bit of a blush.
"Yeah. We were just a back-up to Mr. Great-heart," added Joseph meekly.
"It was more that just a back-up," declared Great-heart emphatically. "Every one was put there by God and every one played the man!"
"Hear! Hear!" piped up Mr. Feeble-mind in his tremulous voice. "I could hear their shouts from deep within the giant's cave. And I tell you truly, friends - I feel like a lamb delivered from the paw of the bear by David."
Then said Mr. Holy-man, "I see you to be a courageous band and this is good, for there are two things needful for a successful pilgrimage: one is courage and the other is a pure life. Without courage, a pilgrim will soon give out and hot-foot it back whence he came. But without a holy life, he will be overcome by the enemy and make the very name of 'pilgrim' to stink."
Then said Mr. Love-saint, "I trust my brother's caution is unnecessary for this group. But there are many on the pilgrim trail who are strangers to righteousness rather than strangers to the world."
"'Tis true," declared Mr. Dare-not-lie. "They have neither Christian's character nor his courage. Their backbone is like a jellyfish and their robe of righteousness is of their own weaving. While they look good from afar, upon drawing closer one sees that their robes have a stain here and a rip there, one shoe turns inward and the other tips out. Their hands are stained, their caps are misfits, and all in all, they are an embarrassment to their Lord."
"For all these things," concluded Mr. Penitent, "they have need of repentance and will make very poor progress in the pilgrim way unless they do. In fact, they will travel over the same ground a thousand times until they let God cleanse their lives of all such spots and blemishes."
So they talked long into the evening and were urged to stay at Mnason's house a good long time. And to this they agreed most readily. Now Mercy was not long in discovering that the town of Vanity had no lack of folk of the poor and suffering sort. So she set up her ministry to the needy. Her husband, Matthew, became the administrator of her benevolent society. Phoebe, Grace, and Martha helped educate the poor to become self-sufficient. For their part, Joseph and his brothers founded workshops and taught young boys useful trades. Thus were they set free from groveling beneath the fitful charities of the ruling class. So, because of these young people, the poor began to prosper and the name of 'pilgrim' became highly esteemed in those parts.
Samuel and Joseph built themselves homes in the countryside and, as you may have surmised, were not long in carrying their brides across their thresholds. There, in the relative safety of the country, they begat little ones who were raised in happy ignorance of the ways of Vanity. Yea, their parents were as an hedge of thorns against the ways of the city folk and woe betide any that would seek to feed their children any fruit from the tree of good and evil. Now I shall not go into detail about Christian's grandchildren, but you would be amazed to see how closely they resembled their noble ancestor.
Now upon a certain day, as Mr. Great-heart and Matthew walked through Vanity Faire on the King's business, they felt a strange electrical tingle race down their spines. But looking about for its cause, they saw nothing. But still it felt as if they were in the presence of some great malevolence. Then said Matthew, "Do you feel anything strange hereabouts, Great-heart?"
"Aye, Matthew. That I do. There is something very queer going on today. Listen. What do you hear?"
After a long pause, Matthew answered, "Why, I hear nothing. Just an eerie silence."
"Does that strike you as odd?"
"For Vanity Faire, it does. Very odd."
"Aye. Not one street musician strumming his lyre, not one corner juggler tossing his balls, and not one Black Widow harlot spinning her evil web."
"And look, Great-heart. See how the merchants are huddled in their booths and speaking in whispers."
"Indeed. Why even the hooligans and thieves peer fearfully from behind buildings before they dart across the streets."
"Something else odd. There be not one truant child or street urchin to be seen in all of Vanity. What is going on?"