Demetrius' Story Step 4

 Step 4

Avishag slipped out of the house onto the small terrace, sitting down on a small bench. Gazing out across the city, she watched the sun slowly sink into the purple Judean hills. As the stars slowly winked into existence, she sent her mind back in time, back to a much happier time. A time in which the pleasures of life colored her reality with the bright hues of sunrise instead of the melancholy hues of evening she now faced. Though much poorer, she and Enosh fronted life together unified and filled with optimism and joy born out of easy and generous spirits. Together they labored, attempting to build a future. Soon their efforts bore the fruits of success. 

Abundant rain brought rich harvests of barley and wheat to the small fields. Soon they were able to purchase a few head of sheep, adding wool to their income. Slowly, surely, line upon line, success upon success, they built a life together. Eventually, despite occasional setbacks, they hired more hands, acquired more land, purchased this pleasant home in Jerusalem, and even brought slaves into their household. But, despite their accomplishments, they lost something along the way. 

        Consumed by avarice and the satiation of desires, Enosh drifted away. Slowly, almost imperceptibly his joy waned, replaced by a self-centered aloofness. Enosh no longer took joy in the labor of his hands, no longer willingly shared with others, and no longer cared about doing things to please Avishag. He lost himself in the business of trade, management of their properties and flocks, and a desperate pursuit of new pleasures. Success notwithstanding, one pleasure eluded them both, children.

They remained a childless couple and with no progeny, their riches brought scant pleasure to Avishag. As the sky darkened above her, Avishag felt darkness crowd in on her soul. Inside the house, her bloated, inward-turned husband, considered what to eat next, not caring a fig for those of his household. While she sat alone on the roof, surrounded by the meaningless trappings of wealth, her heart filling with darkness. Silently she wept as the cold impassive stars looked on, keeping their watch in places assigned so long ago. 

Demetrius Story, Step 3

 Step 3

Demetrius fumed, stoking the fires of his anger. Looking across the purple Judean hills, gentle in the gloaming, time slowed for him as he turned his anger over in his mind, examining it from every angle. No matter the view, no matter angle, life remained a cruel antagonist; one determined to grind him into dust and scatter him across the rocky waste. So intent on his inner turmoil, he did not notice Alter’s approach.

“Here, eat something,” proffered Alter.

Demetrius sighed, “thanks,” and took the crusty piece of bread.

Miles away, in a warmly lit room, Enosh sighed, ruminating over what to eat next. He’d enjoyed the final cucumbers of the season, savoring their crispness seasoned with Dead Sea salt. Reclining on his cushioned couch, he considered the bowl of olives. He loved their saltiness extracted in dribs and drabs as he sucked the meat from the pits. The bowl of lentils beckoned, as did the roasted goat. Grunting as he shifted his bulk forward, he reached for the lentils. Breaking off a piece of bread, he dipped it into the savory mixture of legumes and broth. Ignoring the drips onto his beard he washed it down with a swig of fortified wine from the hills of Galilee. For a few moments he considered reattacking the roast goat, but a rumble from his distended gut stayed his hand. Sated, he leaned back on a cushion reviewing the day in his mind. He managed to sell several bales of wool for a tidy profit. Smiling, he thought of the heavy bags of Aureus and Denarius in his strong-box in his bedroom. It had been a good year with profits in all of his endeavors. So enthralled, he did not notice when Avishag came into the room.

“How are you,” she queried?

“Huh,” Enosh, roused from his internal reverie, responded, “What do you want, woman?”

“Nothing, I just thought you might send the shepherds some of the leftover roast and bread along with a couple of spare cloaks. It’s rather cold outside and we have plenty.”

“Bah, why should I send them extra. I pay their wages don’t I,” he grumbled?

“Oh, I just thought it would be nice. Remember how cold you got when we were first married,” she intoned quietly.

“And look where my hard work got us. Let them work as hard and the Lord will send them success,” he snorted.

“It was just a thought,” she demurred quietly and left the room.

Demetrius' Story, Step 2

Step 2

Alter sighed as he watched the young man roughly man-handle the cast down sheep. So much anger in one so young. Not that he truly blamed him. He’d endured great pain and suffering for one so young. But then, so had many others. Mankind often twisted the world into deep darkness. Alter often marveled at the great contrast revealed in the world; magnificent sunrises and sunsets competed with temple prostitutes and slave markets. But, if one allowed it, hate and anger would consume a man, leaving only bitterness and ashes. Alter sighed again as his fingers traced an old scar, FUG in clumsy letters across the back of his hand. So much pain, so much anger, so much hate. Forces gross and subtle pulled at men seeking to bend them in one direction or another. The early choices he’d made shaped his life in ways that only time revealed. Sitting on a rocky Judean outcrop he unfolded the old parchment of his life. Ephemeral figures rose up, some accusing, others looking back at him cloaked in sadness. Still, along his path bright spots emerged, reminding him of shared joys sublime. One spot, in particular, stood out, casting a warm glow over his wayward path. He watched as Demetrius stalked off, flopping down on a small rough limestone outcrop. 

    Demetrius despised his existence in this barren corner of the vast Roman empire. He let his mind wander back over the past five years that had brought him here. Thoughts of his parents and home near Thyatira brought no joy. His parents had started him on this journey with an act of supreme callousness and selfishness that still took his breath away. The unfairness of it all burned deep inside him, fury smoldering in his core radiated anger into all his actions, threatening to overwhelm him. Everywhere he looked darkness threatened. 

Demetrius' Story

Well, it’s time for my yearly Christmas trek. This morning I started my advent reading with Genesis chapters one through three. I know it’s an odd place to start, but I like remembering why I need advent, my own intransigent pride. But, that’s another story altogether. This year I’d like to try something new. I want to tell a story, a story that has formed in my mind in bits and pieces over the past few weeks. Like a view that clarifies as the mist rises, this story has slowly taken shape, resolving and gaining solidity each day. I invite you to join me as we walk this path; a path that ultimately leads to a manger in the small Judean city of Bethlehem, David’s city. The city of the king.

Part I

“I hate sheep!” The thought reverberated in his mind as Demetrius glowered at the fuzzy tawny shapes seeking scant fodder on the rocky hill. “I hate sheep! I hate itchy wool! I hate the way they smell! They are the stupidest creatures of all creation! What did I do to make the gods so angry as to make me a shepherd!” Demetrius adjusted his cloak, hoping to find the right placement, one that kept most of the chilly wind out. No matter what he did, nothing seemed to work. There was always someplace where the cold wind could slip through. “Why did he have to work for a man too cheap to provide decent warm clothing?”

“Demetrius! Hey, Demetrius! Look alive,” Alter’s piercing voice annoyed almost as much as the cold east wind. “Demetrius, one of your sheep is cast down. Take care of it!”

Demetrius shot a withering glare at Alter’s back. “Silly old man. Why did he care? He was not the owner. He endured the same miserly treatment that Demetrius did. And what was one fewer sheep to look after anyway?” These and other darker thoughts lurked in Demetrius’ mind as he slouched over to the cast sheep. There it lay, with legs flailing uselessly in the air. As Demetrius approached, the frightened sheep, sensing his foul mood, flailed all the more. One of its flinty hooves clipped his hand as he reached out, cutting it slightly. Angered even further, Demetrius cursed and struck the sheep with his staff.

“Hey!” called Alter, “Don’t do that. Be gentle.”

Sighing and muttering under his breath, Demetrius bent over, grabbed the sheep’s fleece, and pulled it over. Righted, the still dizzy sheep staggered away. “I hate my life,” thought Demetrius as he once more adjusted his cloak.

Check in tomorrow for the next step in the journey.