Two and a half weeks of staying at the small town, Finn and Lily were lucky enough to be granted a place to stay by one of the elders of the Adventist church. He was intrigued by Finn’s strength in faith as he preached in the second Sabbath, in the afternoon on prophesy. The cabin offered to them was nearer to the church than the motel they were staying in. God was still looking out for them, taking care of them in ways they both couldn’t fathom.
It was a beautiful Wednesday morning when Lily decided to make a short trip to the market to buy some fruits. She’d already made breakfast for her husband and had left him in the living room, gulfing down the scrambled eggs, slices of brown bread with butter and a glass of pineapple juice. With the cabin offered to them, came a few hens and a snow-white cock that stayed in the backyard. Blessings in deed.
In one of the market stalls stood a kind lady selling fruits; mangoes, red apples and bananas in particular. They looked fresh, straight out of the farm and into the market.
“Good morning ma’am.” The woman gingerly greeted Lily.
“Morning.” She smiled as she pondered on what to buy. A little girl with a blond haired Barbie doll appeared from behind the strawberry blond haired woman. She’d worn a black dungaree with a peach, long-sleeved cotton top and had had her hair braided into a crown.
“I’d like, four mangoes, two red apples and five bananas please.” Lily requested. The woman went right into assembling the items and put them in a bag which was re-checked by the little girl. With curious filled eyes, the little girl asked Lily whether she was from town. “I’m from a faraway town full of sunflowers and cute shepherd dogs.” She gently answered her earning a big toothless smile.
As she walked on the drab, inglorious street to the rest of the stalls selling different items, Lily overheard a man and woman talking about the Sunday law.
“I think it will be better once the governor enforces it here. The environment will be cleaner, the streets will be quiet and there would be peace. “The man said. Lily weighed a lettuce in hand as she kept on listening.
“Maybe you’re right. But we sure will suffer a loss with the market being closed every Sunday.” The woman sighed. Lily moved to the stall next to them that had spices.
“Think of it as God’s will. That He wants us to fully meditate on His word and worship Him every Sunday. This will strengthen our faith, Mira.” He told the woman.
“Actually… not really.” Lily butted in.
“Excuse me?” Mira asked.
“God wouldn’t want you to worship Him, or fellowship only on Sundays. He’d like us doing all those every single day.” Lily calmly stated.
“I don’t usually have time. Sunday would be perfect.” The man dismissed her.
“Yes, but, the pope specifically said that we should rest on Sabbath. That we should not do any businesses then.” Mira stated.
“And where exactly is it stated in the Bible that the Sabbath is on a Sunday?” Lily challenged them, attracting a few people around them.
The man’s face mottled crimson. “We follow the church. We follow what the pope, the Vicar of God says. No one is to question what he says.” His eyes popped and his tree trunk neck strained as he spat out his words with the ferocity and rapidity of machine gun fire.
“That’s where you’re wrong, mister. Haven’t you ever read the history of the Sunday law?” A crowd gathered around them as Lily spoke, perfectly composed.
“It was a legal enactment by Constantine a few centuries after the death of our Christ. “The venerable day of the Sun’ he called it. The magistrates and the people residing in the cities he ruled obeyed the law and rested on Sunday. No shops were opened.”
“Yes…so?” one of the people in the small crowd asked.
“So, nowhere in the Bible is ever stated that Sabbath day should be on a Sunday. The true Sabbath has always been on Saturdays. The day God rested after He created the world and everything in it. The Sabbath the Israelites commemorated before the laws were written by Moses and after they were written. The Sabbath that Jesus Christ himself rested and so did His disciples. Who are we to change what’s already written in the Bible by servants of God almighty?”
“Are you actually saying that we should go against the government, the pope himself and risk being sent to jail?” another person in the crowd asked.
“All I’m saying is that, God’s laws are more powerful than man’s laws. We cannot risk breaking the laws of God for the sake of a fellow human being.”
A woman walked from behind the crowd and stood beside her. A sort of toddler expanded to adult size, irritation in her anger, a sort of impetuousness. Lily watched as thin brunette hair moved over skin that yearned for more shade and rest. Her eyes were on the small side, as if afraid to let the light in; her mouth, small and rigid, as if only used for the sort of smiles that mask cruelty, perhaps born of a lifetime of suspicion and the special kind of superiority that radiates contempt. It was one of those mouths that only twitch upward when a deception is achieved.
“The catholic church itself confessed that they are the ones who changed the Sabbath from Saturday to Sunday. If you’ve read the history, you all would know that the Catholic Church has manipulated people before and killed the ones who went against the church. Accepting this is a mark of her ecclesiastical power.” Lily urged.
“Are you saying that we should go against the government and the church too? That we should be killed or suffer for that?” One of the customers stood with hard staring eyes that never blinked. The people whispered and muttered.
“Yes.” Lily spoke with well-intentioned purity that triggered something in the woman that stood beside her. Fear. Fear of being wrong. Fear of dying. “2 Timothy 2:12 says, ‘If we suffer, we shall also reign with Him.”
“She’s trying to get us into trouble!” the woman yelled.
“Who’s ready to die because of such nonsense? For all we know, whatever she spewed from her filthy mouth could be fables!” She incited the people.
Voices rose above the hushed whispers as more people joined in. One small comment stirred a hurricane of horsed and harsh insults. Their own Pandora boxes opened, sending each word full speed ahead to shatter Lily’s soul into a million pieces. Her face turned a shade lighter than crimson. She wanted to cry as she felt her ears getting hot in frustration. “Satan has blinded you.” She got back their attention. “He’s blinded all of you through the catholic church, and the government itself. All Roman Catholic feasts and fast days are man-made. From Ash Wednesday, to Palm Sunday. Good Friday, Easter Monday, Christmas and all the others. None of these bear divine credentials of the Author of the Inspired Word.” There was no heat in her voice, as if her heart beat steadily.
“Oh com’on... Christmas... Really? To hell with her!” The woman who stood beside her roughly pushed Lily, making her fall on the muddy ground.
“ENOUGH!” the man who was initially talking to Mira yelled. His sallow skin clung to his skull like a wet rug to a rail.
Baring unevenly yellowed teeth, he commanded, “All of you, get back to your stalls. Follow the Bible or the government, I don’t care. Get back to work!” he snarled more than he spoke, without drama. His words had an air of finality to them and the people obliged. Lily stood up from the filthy ground, picked up her fallen fruits, and walked away as if strolling in the park on a fine day.
“Ye shall be hated of all men for My name’s sake: but he that endureth to the end shall be saved.” Matthew 10:22