Post #4.14, Thursday, January 30, 2020

Historical Setting, 562 C.E. Gaul

“Colleta, tie on your cape; We will walk in this winter’s sunshine. We can just go down the lane but I need to have a personal chat with you. Eve came with me to watch the children so we can talk.”

         Eve says nothing. Probably her teary eyes lead Colleta to believe I’m intruding my will between these sisters-in-law. Maybe I am but it is not to chastise Colleta as she may suppose.

         “Colleta, I plan to leave my comfortable quarters in the loft over the donkey’s stall and move to Tours. That will mean that Eve will be alone again and without your thoughtfulness the only people she will speak to would be those who come for help from suffering. She was, as you noticed, distraught this morning when I told her of my plans. That’s why I’m begging your kindness. I know it has been hard for you to get accustomed to seeing her scars but now I’m asking that you accept her invitations to eat at her table. You may even find it helpful to have another prepare the meal now and then for your family. And I ask that you send the children to visit her often.  I hope this is the best for both you and Eve, but it will call for your intentional consideration to include her with family.”

         “Is that your big secret? Of course we can be family to her.”

         “Thank you Colleta. I’d hoped you’d understand. It’s important.”

         “So, Papa Lazarus, what will you find to do in Tours?”

         “Maybe I can work as a scribe in the scriptorium of the monastery. I’ve done that kind of work before needing no holy orders — just many years of practice with inks.”

         “Probably you didn’t hear of this. I have a guess why Ezra didn’t tell you but you should surely be warned. The St. Maurice Church was burned to the ground on the very night of the Christ Mass.”

         “Really? I’ve heard nothing of that! Do you mean that old Roman sanctuary laid right into the ancient wall? It was there even when St. Martin was abbot?”

         “Yes. It was really old.”

         “Were people there? Was there tragedy to life?”

         “I have no idea.  I know nothing at all of it, except I have a guess at what happened and I would not repeat my suspicions except that you should know.”

(What “suspicions?” the next chapter begins Tuesday, February 4)

Post #4.13, Tuesday, January 29, 2020

Historical Setting, 562 C.E. Gaul

“Ezra, if I could help, I would stay.”

         “Papa, we could build another cottage so you won’t have to sleep in the donkey’s loft.”

         “That’s thoughtful Ezra, but you would have more taxes and less land for tilling. Please hear me out. I was thinking of going to the monastery at Tours because I believe they have a scriptorium and I could work copying scriptures and as I have done before. I have long done the work of taking scriptures to Christians still meeting in secret. Once Christians hid from the Romans, now they hide from other Christians.  In Tours I would be near enough to return in the seasons when you need a hand with planting and harvest and maybe I could even help pruning vines if you allowed a novice.”

         “You’re doing fine with this work Papa. You’re learning. And if you were to leave us my sister will go back to calling herself ‘Enola’ again, so alone with no papa eating at her table.”

         “So, I guess I will need to have a talk with Colleta.”

         “Colleta? You’re going to tell her what I told you of her terrible jealous rage?”

          “Of course I won’t mention that. I just need to be the one to beg family of her to save Eve from always being alone.  I would hope that while I’m gone all of you, you and Colleta and your children will have some meals with Eve at her new table. But begging Eve’s acceptance shouldn’t be a task left for you or for Eve. I need to speak with Colleta.”

         “So you aren’t even going to let it slip into your chat that Jesse thinks Eve is wondrous?

         “I won’t mention any of what you told me, I promise. I’m asking Colleta a favor. I’m not trying to beat her up. And really, it might be that Colleta is ready to include Eve from time to time. Eve no longer hides in bee nets and no one seems to mind. I’ve seen them talking face-to-face with hardly a notice of the scars. It doesn’t seem impossible for these two women to discover they are family together and that’s a good thing for both of them. Let me talk with each of them.”

         Like Jacob leaving Laban, the prayer for stacking the stones is simple. Watch between us while we are gone from each other. Amen.

(Continues tomorrow)

Post #4.12, Tuesday, January 28, 2020

Historical Setting, 562 C.E. Gaul

Ezra asks, “So maybe this Jesus whose teachings grow as we grow has something new to say about taxes?”

         “Sure. You already noticed Joseph in the creche who only seemed there to bring the Jewish tradition and pay the Roman tax.”

         “Yes, Papa, and I’ve also heard about Jesus answering the tricky query about paying taxes by turning the question and asking whose face is on the coin? I know it was clear; we should pay taxes. But I hoped to hear something different in the new of now.”

         “You remember the stories well, Ezra — new, or maybe old. Ancient Jewish tradition teaches that the earth belongs to God who created it. People may use the land as stewards or tenants but it is God’s earth. So when you give to God what’s God’s only a meager coin remains to give to Caesar.”

         I see my son thinking — laying thought to words in answer.

         “To make sense of God who owns the earth you would have to believe there is a Creator God, not just an imperial invention of a god in human form. And you know Papa, there are still some around in these times who believe a person can own land. I bought into that and paid off the tax debt on these lands after they were idled by the wars and plague. I even believed myself to be the landowner so I planted this vineyard. Then the next year when taxes were due I noticed the taxes went to a landlord and not to Rome, as though I were only tenant on my own land. Now it seems with no one but our Frankish king in power each lesser lord is taking our taxes for himself and paying a portion to a lesser lord, and on it goes, leaving me, the farmer, paying all the taxes, doing all the work and getting nothing but the use of God’s good earth which I thought was my inheritance anyway.”

         “Ezra, as I see it, from the nothing I left here you have turned it to good and used God’s earth to provide for your wife and children and sister also. And perhaps we should talk about my use to you so that I am not a burden living here as I do.”

         “Oh, Papa I didn’t mean to say…”

         “Ezra, if I could make your work easier and not just your tax greater, I would stay.”

(Continues tomorrow)

Post #4.11, Thursday, January 23, 2020

Historical Setting, 562 C.E. Gaul

         A winter’s day — a clean page — The task is to prune the vineyard. When he first took on this land Ezra planted this vineyard between the river and the cottage where I once grew wheat. Now Ezra, whom I instructed only yesterday on thatch is telling me how to prune vines. I thought I knew.

         “I thought you knew how to do this, Papa? You told it in a Jesus story.”

         “Clearly that was a metaphor about relationship together with God and not really about vines. Jesus said, ‘I am the true vine and you are the branches, those who abide in me and I in them will bear much fruit.’ (John 15:1-5, NRSV) But then he recommends those that do not bear fruit be thrown unto the fire.” (John 15:6)

         “Surely I’m not God the vine tender, Papa, but I also use that method of pruning. I do a hard pruning and burn what won’t produce.”

         “So you mean all these dead ones get uprooted and set afire?”

         Now my son laughs at my ignorance. “No Papa! There will be no uprooting in my vineyard!  The roots are good though they may seem gnarly. Only cut these stray shoots. They are like wayward and disconnected thoughts that take from the richness of the fruit. But please keep these roots and cordons. I leave the buds that are closest to the vine and keep them in numbers depending upon the strength of the vine. Jesus had it right. It all has to connect to the source.”

         “A-ha! That was the message of that! I kind of wondered about all that sorting and burning Jesus was affirming. It’s more fitting of his wide love message to think we are not dividing up good people from bad people so much as choosing within our own selves the most love connected ways to hold others in our hearts. It is a much better metaphor with that more personal nuance.”

         “So the pruning bible lesson is a new idea? Papa, I never expected you would find a new idea in an old Jesus lesson.”

         “Of course! The old is new for me all the time. It’s like pruning vines. Cut away the old fronds and save the buds that have yet to produce. See I’m already catching on.”

         “So did this new Jesus of our own time have a word about Landlords and taxes?”

(continues Tuesday, January 28)

Post #4.10, Wednesday, January 22, 2020

Historical Setting, 562 C.E. Gaul

         Ezra tells me the story of what really happened on that night when Jesse came for Eve. “You should know that Jesse’s wife’s family are shouting close neighbors to the sisters of Colleta. Her cousin Jesse told us what happened that night before. At both houses they heard him pounding their doors pleading for help. No one would go with him. They blamed the storm but in case it lessened they excused themselves saying it would be their duty to attend the Christ Mass at the church if it weren’t for the weather. Turned away by Christians Jesse came through wind and sleet all these miles down here for Eve. He believed family rumor that Eve is a pagan troll and so he could find help and also spite the Christian abandonment.

         “Eve found the mother was already dead. Jesse expected a servant of evil would surely be able to restore her to life. Eve insisted it was too late. ‘Angels were already about waiting to take her spirit to Heaven;’ so she gave him the task to hold onto the mother’s shoulders so angels could tug her soul away while Eve hid her work with a blanket to learn if the baby is to be of earth or of Heaven. Eve told Jesse to shout the Christian prayer as loud as he could so the angels would be sure they had a Christian soul here. She had to teach it to him line for line. He shouted it to show us he had not forgotten it. ‘Holy parent in Heaven!  Your Kingdom come! Your will be done! On earth!’ and then the baby cried. He knew it was of earth so he stopped praying, but Eve made him say it all anyway. In fact the ‘troll’ herself made him shout the whole of the Christian prayer over again and again. ‘Your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven now and forever and ever Amen.’

         “So when Colleta and I arrived I think Jesse was glad to see us though all he talked of was the kindness shown by Eve. All this praise stroked the furs of calm backwards and ruffled Colleta’s envy. He even wanted to name the baby ‘Troll’ after Eve. Had it not been for the sweetness of the baby I think Colleta would have been riled to misfit by her jealousy. But Colleta took the baby to her breast and all was peaceful. Jesse and I found Eve had already cleaned the bedding and the body and had wrapped the mother for burial. Jesse carried her to the cart and we buried her.

         Under the coating of ice we found the ground had not yet frozen.”

(continues tomorrow)

Post #4.9, Tuesday, January 21, 2020

Historical Setting, 562 C.E. Gaul

My intention in placing the ladder was to instruct Ezra on the necessary thickness of thatch. He works and moves and even speaks  with a rural pace – or has he simply the peace that is leftover in this place after the anxious push of Rome’s progress toward metropolis fell short here up against the Frankish warlords. He stares as though he were a listener to my advice on bundling straw and pushing the bound stems firmly in place.

         “Yes, Papa.  I failed to gather reeds at the river when they were so abundant last fall.”

         “Of course, Ezra. I know you were then about the tasks of helping at Saumur. How could you have repaired your own roof?”

         “It’s good you could fix this for us Papa. But I don’t know if you can fix the splitting thatch of my unholy thoughts. Did Jesus teach of jealousy, or did he not even know of such petty evils?”

         “Oh, Jesus knew well of siblings indulging in envy for one another…” But I wonder to myself what Ezra was noticing of this.

         “So you have a Jesus story to tell me? Don’t say it Papa; it is a lesson Colleta should hear and I don’t suppose she will listen.”

         “Why would you think Colleta needs a lesson? The story you told us is for Eve and I to ache in envy – with all of Colleta’s wonders – Colleta’s success with the new baby, providing her own family in Tours to take-in the young father and the baby. How could it be Colleta’s jealousy that concerns you? She’s simply all goodness.”

         And haven’t I given that my thoughts? My own envy cut deep when Colleta offered a different grandfather’s love to my grandchildren. It is my own short vision that needs a fix. And apparently this struggle is always about families intertwined with one another.

          I reminded Ezra, “Even the Jesus story I know is a tangle of hurts and it’s not at all a clear story of righteousness.”

         “Papa you are thinking of the Jesus story of the Righteous Son who stayed home? I don’t need to hear that again. This is not about a rich father’s inheritance and a wandering second son. This is a true life story about Colleta’s raging envy and what really happened when we went to call on Jesse and the new baby.”

         “’Colleta’s raging envy?’ Maybe you should tell me that story Ezra. What really happened?”

(Ezra tells the story tomorrow)

Post #4.8, Thursday, January 16, 2020

Historical Setting, 562 C.E. Gaul

         This great rock was surely delivered to the edge of River Liger in a time before days were counted on human fingers. Maybe it was smoothed to be a safe nest for ancient creatures and a high ground for the furry cub caught in a raging river current. Was this the last safe outpost for the elk fleeing the great flood after missing the fragile cut of life onto the ark? It is a rock people hardly would notice but so many of Creation come here often to meet with God. I come to this rock for that solace.

         When I farmed these fields years back my prayers were thanksgivings for my gentle wife who loved the yellow flowers the color of her hair; and there was so much thanks giving for our family of five children. But here I am in this new life and my prayers are yet thanksgivings, now for family that is. How I wish I could live in the midst of them always.

         Dear God, may I be useful in your work and may I be a loving father to this son and this daughter who have knitted their own ways into adults. And may I be useful to these beautiful grandchildren you’ve lent me. Thank you for this reunion, though I know it must be brief. Guide my choices.  Amen.

         The river flows strong and turbulent in a tandem of eternity in earthy rub against this immovable rock. It is current with current mingling as river, one force of water rolls a deep sunken log, another channels toppings of ice floe all as one river pouring these remembrances of the lands unto the sea. I come to this place for the energy of Spirit of God moving among us gathering our spiritual treasures, our creative works, our hopes to promises, our loves in currents, mingling them as one river without mortal boundaries separating shared spirit into individual possession.

         “Your grandfather sends his love.” The grandchild is beloved. Why must I think I am the only grandfather? Is it not the love that is the thing I wish for them?

         Dear God, in the oneness of Spirit let me see from the great view that I am not alone but part of the many and we are loved. Thank you. So be it.

(Story continues Tuesday, January 21)

Post #4.7, Wednesday, January 15, 2020

Historical Setting, 562 C.E. Gaul

         Blue sky, the bright of winter, syrup colors fuse surreal and today Colleta and Ezra returned from their journey bringing all varieties of news. Celeste leads Daniel in a welcome of shouts and cheers and tears and grabs as lean and lusty as a camel at first oasis. Little Margey lets go of her ever-curious watches and turns babe in arms as she finds the welcoming breast of her mother.

         My report, “Everything is well here, peaceful, waiting for your return. The storm brought down a bit of thatch but there was straw enough for the fix, and Eve chased the water from the cottages along with some old summer’s sands. So you might have noticed things are clean and ready for your return.”

         Ezra’s report is abundant. “The young father, turns out, is Colleta’s own cousin Jesse. He was so grateful Colleta came and saved the baby from death or worse.”

         Colleta clarified, “He said he feared the snares of sin since the child was not birthed Christian. He said our own family had all gone to the church for the Christ Mass so he could find no one to help.” Eve pressed her lips straight and silent.

           Ezra continued, “He didn’t want to send a messenger to inform his wife’s family, so we just buried her with a short prayer as we have done so often in these times.”

         “She was so alone.” Eve whispered.

         Dear God, please hold my own child close so she can feel your breath and know she is not also so alone…

          “So after the burial” Ezra continued, “I went and informed Colleta’s family, and they gathered with Jesse and the baby. Colleta was also blessed to be with her sisters again for two overnights.”

         “Celeste, Daniel,” Colleta announces, “Your grandfather sends his love, and your grandmother sends you a basket of biscuits!”

          How could they not notice that this grandfather who is right here also loves them? And they have surely found no dearth of biscuits at this hearth.

         Dear God, help me loose the snag in my own jealous heart. Amen.

(continues tomorrow)

Post #4.6, Tuesday, January 14, 2020

Historical Setting, 562 C.E. Gaul

         “I don’t think I care to learn to read, Papa. But surely Daniel needs to know it one day and Ezra has no time to teach him. So you  should teach Daniel if you really want to make another person learn things.”

         “Oh, Eve, I wasn’t…” What can I say? Maybe I really do want to ‘make her learn things.’ Maybe I want to shape this twenty-seven year old woman back into the child so I can be a proper father for her.

         Dear God, empower me to let her choices be her own. Amen.

         “So does God tell you I need to learn to read even if I don’t want to, Papa?”

         “No. God wants me to let you make your own choices, as God allows each of us, all of us — Her own created sons and daughters — to do.”

         “Your prayer was too short for such a complicated answer. Are you sure it was God who answered or did you just think up your own answer to please me?”

         “God answered by being an example to me of a longing parent, as I am also.”

         “I can see you’ve set out a God trap for me, Papa.”

         “A ‘God trap’?”

          “‘Sure,’ you say, ‘It’s all your choice, but if you choose wrong you will burn for it!’ That’s a God trap.”

         “That doesn’t sound like the God who is love and who answers my prayers. I would think setting snares with fearful ends and punishments sounds more like a meager last-breath power grab by some retreating emperor or abusive new king rising. It sounds pagan to me. No, I wasn’t setting a God trap. You may choose as you wish. I need to trust your gift to make your own choices and I will still love you even if you would rather not learn to read.”

         “I just don’t think it would be good for me to read. Because I can see that only the strange trolls and hags and lonely women read. I mean, no one but hags and trolls and popes even own books.”

         “You don’t have to explain it Eve. It’s your choice to make.”

         “But Papa, I do remember my name – E-V-E backwards and forwards. I choose not to be Enola – alone anymore.”

(continues Tomorrow)

Post #4.5, Thursday, January 9, 2020

This photo is of an artist’s High School Botany Class notebook, showing handwritten pages, and detailed drawings of nature. The artist was this blog-wright’s mother, Rosiland Munro (Heitzman) and the book was created around 1932.

Historical Setting, 562 C.E. Gaul

“How is it that you have a book?”

         “I’m sorry Papa. I know I shouldn’t; I know books are only for the Popes and Priests.  But this one came to me from the hag when she was reaching to take death by the hand and go off to her wonderful pit of hell to leave me alone. She told me to find it with her things because it was precious and I could cherish it forever.”

         I’d not given it a thought before, that the possession of a book was only a Christian privilege. I assumed it was simply a circumstance of a last thread of the Roman economy. And that makes me wonder how might one who reads be empowered in this new world without writings?

         “So, Eve, if Ezra has no book and he doesn’t even know of yours, what is it that he reads?”

         “He reads the parchments of lords and tax collectors and the edicts that are used over us. He says it keeps the wealthy and the priests wary of him because he might actually know what is written and they can’t easily flounder him in lies. When someone comes on horseback and unfurls a document and speaks an order, Ezra simply asks to read it; and they just roll the parchment back into its bows and laces and move on to another peasant who doesn’t read.”

         “Eve, if you think reading is helpful I would be glad to spend a bit of time each day after the chores to give you reading lessons. Then you can be the one to teach the children to read. They can read the stories you letter for them onto a wax board. That will be a very good thing! Our family can pass along and shelter this reading gift until books and letters are again to be had by anyone who reads. There are scriptoria in monasteries these days. I expect books will soon become more abundant.”

         “I don’t know Papa. Perhaps I shouldn’t read. Isn’t it even against the Christian law that I would own a book?”

         “Maybe not. Yours is a book of medicine and science. It isn’t heresy in these times because it is simply unknown and nearly forgotten information about healing. I would say the right thing to do with the book is keep it forever and ever and read it when you wish to know things that are mostly forgotten, things that become lost in the dark places.”

         Eve seems hesitant, “I need think about this. Maybe I will choose not to learn to read.”

(Story continues Tuesday, January 14)