James Patterson’s Journal---The Story of the Congregation Of Andria Church During Dark Time (Patterson’s Tale #1)
(NOTE: To read, or re-read, Parts 1 through 8 of “Civilization’s Interregnum”, for continuity, click on <timesexaminer.com>, then on my name under “Local Columnists” on our Home Page, and all of my archived articles will come up if you scroll down to the bottom of each list. Continue to scroll until you see each part of this series.)
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A “PROPHETIC” TALE OF PERSECUTION, RESISTANCE, AND COURAGE IN FAR FUTURE TIME.
Imagine, if you will, a small group of archaeologists working in and under an ancient building high over the banks of the Tomak River, close to a small city named Andria, in the country known as The United Republics of the East (U.R.E). It is a building that has survived the ravages of time and the hatred of malevolent forces over most of its existence. Perhaps sometime in the mid-part of the 28th century these archaeologists make a historical find underneath that newly renovated and restored ancient building on the banks of that river, a building that was around 900 years old at that time and that had been used as a church by the Sectof Jesus Followers for a century or more, during a time of severe persecution of Christians. Imagine, then, that in a sealed metal box buried under that church over 300 yearspreviously, they discover a personal journal written by an Elder of that Church. So here is his and his Christian brethren’s story of fear and faithfulness, of peace and violence, of resistance and defeats, of loves for each other and of their Savior, as written down sometime in the early 25th century—near the end of the “Dark Time”--far, far into our own future, which we who live today in the year 2024 will bring about by what we do, or DON’T do!
(Note: spelling and meaning of words have changed significantly in our past, and surely will have changed in this projected future. However, for ease of reading and understanding, current American English spelling and phraseology will be used in these stories. I’m certain that some of you will soon identify the river and the building and the city of this future time, things that currently exist in 21st century America, and which I’ve used to propel this tale to its God-honoring conclusion.)
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THE PERSONAL JOURNAL JAMES PATTERSON
Elder for the Jesus Sect
Congregation of Andria
Church, in the Village of
Andria, Country of Democrata
“Recording some events, and the atrocities, that occurred during the 9th year of the rule of High Councilor Krantlan, or the Jesus Sect year of about 2410. Written in hiding with a few surviving members of the now obliterated Andria Church in a cave along the Tomak River, as we try to avoid detection by the Enforcers and torture and death at the hands of the Overmasters.
“I am burying my completed journal under Andria Church in hopes that people of the future will find it and will learn from our ordeals. May our Jesus God protect us from the further wrath of the Evil One, that we have endured for our entire lives. Soon we will join our Savior in Heaven and be done with this place of tears and fear and abode of evil men. But until then, I want you to know that we lived, and loved each other and loved our Savior, and we tried to serve him despite the severe persecution we have faced for all of my life, and for much longer for members of the Jesus Sect who lived before me.
“I am one of the few left alive with the ability to write these words in this journal, trusting in my Triune God to protect me and those few followers in this area who are still alive. I am leaving these words so that you of the future might avoid the terrible mistakes that we of your past have made, for in truth I believe we have brought some of our troubles upon our own heads because we refused to totally trust the One Who Loved Us and Gave Himself For Us. Perhaps I am being too harsh on my fellow believers and myself. History alone will vindicate or condemn us.
“May our LORD forgive us, and may you try to understand. JP.”
ELDER JAMES PATTERSON’S PERSONAL JOURNAL
“For many years the members of Andria Church grew slowly in number, and generally we considered ourselves to be fairly safe. By the time I was a young child the old building in which we later met was almost totally surrounded by a dense forest of trees and brush. From the bank of the river its front, with the crumbling pillars, could no longer be seen. By the time I write this journal, Summerlate of 2410-- an estimate of the actual year, for we no longer have any printed information or other sources to help us verify the actual year and season—hence the estimates of the years we have used my entire life---all that remain of our church congregation are a few terrified and discouraged ones trying to hide from our persecutors and stay alive.
“My mother, Hela, told me that she believed I had been born in the JS year of 2348, but that she relied on my father’s estimate, for like so many of our people, my mother was unable to read or write. This makes me a very old man of 62 as I write this journal. My father disappeared when I was around 10, before my small group of Jesus Sect followers discovered the ancient house that we worshipped in for about 50 years. His clan, the Patterson Masters, informed my mother that it was their belief that he had been captured during one of the incessant interclan raids that plagued our lives, or possibly by the military arm of the local overmasters who tried to control all the different clans in the area with their superior weapons, tortured for information and executed, possibly after admitting that he was a Jesus Sect follower, which to our overmasters was always a sufficient reason to kill us.
“I believe it was Jesus God’s will for us to find the old house that we made into our Church building. We lived about a half-day’s journey from the tiny village called Andria. Some of my father’s relatives lived there—a miserable disease infested hole in the forest on the bank of the Tomak River that served as a gathering place to buy and sell what little food items were available, and to buy and sell weapons and information. My father was named Hartal, and his two brothers and their sons had named themselves ‘Hartal’s Avengers’ after my father’s death, and became brutally efficient in killing members of other clans and especially the occasional Overmaster or Enforcer they managed to capture. My uncles and their families, including us, soon became the target of even more intense persecution because of this, and we had to move around constantly to avoid capture by enemy clans or the patrolling overmasters.
“On one very warm morning in the month of Spring, when I was a young teen, my mother and I, along with my two sisters and 10 or 12 other family members, were at the fenced compound of my mother’s oldest brother, my uncle Jorgan. He was a godly man who served as our spiritual leader—our pastor. Although he was not trained to be a pastor (no one is in our time) he was known to have great wisdom and was believed by the villagers to have an actual very old copy of God’s Bible, which he studied and shared with a few of the trusted Jesus Sect members in Andria. His 2 sons were strong warriors but very devout, as were their children, and they all knew how to read and even write a little. It was they who formed the core of our slowly growing congregation.
“Jorgan’s son, my cousin Faulke, after our time of worship together, informed us that he and his son had recently been hunting in the dense forest above the Tomak River, not far from where we were, and were following the blood trail of a deer they had arrowed. At this time the forest around Andria was known to contain many dangers, such as wild and savage carnivores, poison snakes, and large hairy man-apes whose screams were often heard after dark. Even the Enforcers avoided going into the forest, preferring to stay along their paved roads by the river or on the forest trails that led from village to village, where the only things they had to worry about were ambushes by the local clan members.
“Faulke told us that he and his son had pushed through some brush and were amazed that the deer they had been tracking was laying dead in front of a large structure with 8 brick columns, completely surrounded by the forest, with vines growing up its walls. He told us that there were no doors or windows on it, and that they went inside. The main hallway, he said, was full of vines and dead tree branches and debris, and many mysterious rusted metal objects. They explored the several rooms while they still had sufficient light, and each room was filled with ancient rotted furniture, piles of bird droppings, skeletons of dead animals, and a few moldy paintings that were no longer recognizable.
“He told us that they explored all the rooms, but found that the roof appeared intact, for the only water damage they could see was what had come in through the open windows over the years. As they were leaving this old house, in preparation for bringing their deer back to their family, Faulke said that he noticed a painting of an old flag on the hallway wall. It was partly obscured by spider webs, but was mostly visible. Underneath were the words, “Saint Andrew’s Cross”. He described the flag as having diagonal stripes with 13 stars, which of course none of us had ever seen before.
“Immediately I was determined to go back to that old house with my cousin and explore it more completely. I asked all of my family members who lived around Andria if they had ever heard of an old house up on a hill above the river. Only one, Faulke’s wife, Ameelya, said that as a child her father had mentioned the existence of a very old house hidden by the forest, that had long before been owned by the legendary General Rober Tely, the hero of something known as ‘The Tyrant’s War’. She said that was all her father knew of the old house, and told her he had never been in it. Most of us were impressed when my uncle Jorgan then told us he also had known of the old house’s existence, having been taken there two times in his youth by his father. He also suggested that we explore it, and possibly use it as a church building for the Jesus Sect members if it was still structurally safe.
“The next morning 15 of us, men and women (including me) left our compound at different times to avoid arousing the suspicions of our neighbors and met at a spot designated by my cousin, Torash. We pushed up through the underbrush and trees, relying only on Faulke’s memory to get us to the spot. Uncle Jorgan, at age 52, was the oldest among us. Despite his crippled joints, he insisted on coming with us, saying that he knew his days in the sun were almost over and that he wanted to see the old house one more time. I helped him over the difficult parts of our trek and within 2 hours we had all cautiously arrived in front of our goal.
Of course, we had no firearms with us, they all having been confiscated long before by order of our Chief District Overmaster and taken by a small army of Enforcers who had gone from village to village to disarm the people, some of whom resisted and were killed. When that event happened, somewhere around the JS year of 2330, even the bladed weapons and arrows of the people had been taken by force, but over the ensuing years the people had either made new blades or had purchased some of the old ones back from a few special Enforcers who were more interested in their dark market profit than in keeping the people disarmed. They never traded for firearms, however, because the people were strictly forbidden to have them. Even the Enforcers were afraid to traffic in forbidden firearms (those were the days before the invention of blasters, which our persecutors now use against us).
“In the bright sunlight we could see that the roof of the old house was made of metal panels which, although somewhat rusted, appeared to be intact. There was a small dead tree leaning against one corner of the old house, but it didn’t appear to have caused any damage to the building. My cousin and another of my relatives loaded arrows into their bows and cautiously entered the building. In a few minutes we were told to come inside, which we all did. That was the first time I saw the old “Saint Andrews Cross” flag. We had no way of telling who had painted it on the wall, or when. The colors still seemed bright, even covered with spider webs and the grime of many years.
“As I write this journal, weeks after my family and most of my JS brothers and sisters of Andria Church were killed or taken away by the military, I still have no idea how old that flag painting is. But since it matched one of the truly ancient flags I was shown much later, and that had been discovered hidden in the old house, I assume that it was put on that wall hundreds of years before, perhaps during the time of evil when all the people of this continent split apart and, sadly, warred upon and killed each other, or so the stories that have been passed down in each clan over untold generations tell us, for we have no books or written histories, they all having been purposely destroyed long before I was born.
“Until I was around 20 years old I, like most of the members of my close family, could neither read nor write. Then I was slowly taught these skills by two great men over a few years—first by my oldest cousin, Torash, and then by my wife Leah’s father, Rachard Lee—both of whom became our pastors at Andria Church at different times. Both of them had been taught how to read and write out of only a few existing ancient books and God’s Bibles by their fathers. It was only because of their teaching me these skills that I have been able to record this history in my journal. I did the same for my 2 daughters but that tradition will end with me, for my wife, my children, and my grandchildren were killed or taken by the Enforcer beasts when they raided our Lord’s Supper Service 2 months ago, and I will not see them again in this life.
“We slowly examined the interior of the old house. The floors and walls, except around the open windows, appeared to be sound. Outside were what appeared to be the foundations of what must have been smaller buildings on each side of the main structure, the openings into which had been walled up in the past. Out back we found a door almost covered with brush, which we cleared and managed to open, discovering it led to the brick foundations under the house. We didn’t go in because it was filled with spiders and their webs, but from what we could see the brick foundations appeared intact. Later, inside the rooms we jumped on the floors, and they seemed solid. Uncle Jorgan decided that we were a large enough group (about 40 JS members at this time) that we needed a place to meet together. He was the one who decided that this strange old house was to become our new church building. He gathered all of us around one of the old fireplaces and prayed for Jesus God’s will to be done, and for Him to bless the building to His service and protect all who entered. And for almost 50 years, except for a few times of anxiety and lack of faith, He did!”
Next time in Part 2: The Jesus Sect suffers persecution by the pagans in Andria. A “Testing the Arrow” trial is conducted. An uneasy “peace” descends upon Andria village because the members of the Jesus Sect finally determine to stand firm.
