Apostasy Rising

by J A Bouma

  The man spit in the fire, his spittle hissing in protest as the man mumbled something under his breath.

  “And Alexander,” John continued, scooting closer and drawing his voice to a whisper, “they’re apostatizing. The whole lot of them.”

  “Who are, brother?” Alexander whispered, himself drawing closer to the man.

  “Pergamum. Thyatira. Sardis.” Alexander heard a quiver in John’s voice that hadn’t been there before. And he thought he saw a drop make its way down John’s cheek in the firelight.

  “The Church of Thyatira is the worst of them. Free rein to that spawn of Jezebel, they’ve given her!” He shook his head and spit again. “Where Pergamum merely has these false teachers in their midst, they actually tolerate and permit her to spread her seed of apostasy.”

  “How so? What seed?”

  “The seed of idolatry, brother. The Thyatirans see no problem participating with the idolatrous practices of Empire Rome. Thyatira is the major economic center for this region, especially for the trade groups. And every one of those groups, from bricklayers to mill workers to metalworkers to bakers—all of them are represented by pagan deities. And of course those deities demand worship and feasts and detestable practices of which I will not speak.”

  John was becoming louder and more animated now, his volume crescendoing along with his outrage. “And the whore Jezebel, that leader of the Nicolaitans is leading the Church of Thyatira to participate! To join right in their immoral and idolatrous practices. It’s no big deal, she says. Be all things to all people, she insists. Don’t want to offend the culture, she bleats. But her time is coming when the Lord Christ will cast her on a bed of suffering. And he will make those who commit adultery with her suffer intensely, unless they repent of their whoring ways!”

  Alexander was taken aback by John’s intensity. A holy rage burned bright in John’s eyes as he described the condition of the Nicolaitan heretics and their followers.

  “If they’re not careful, the Church of Thyatira will morph into the Church of Sardis!” He spit into the fire again and returned to tending its embers. “Lord Christ said while they have a reputation of being alive, they are actually dead. Dead! Soiled their garments with the teachings of the Nicolaitans, they have. Lulled into a deep slumber, they have been. Hiding their lamp under a bushel out of fear of persecution and economic ostracism, they are. The majority of the Church has denied Jesus and fallen out of step with the right and true teachings of faith in Christ. Only a few remain. They are the ones worthy to walk with Christ, he says.”

  John finally stopped to catch his breath. A look of pain and deep sadness etched his leathery face, his small frame heaving up and down with every frustrated breath.

  “I understand it to some degree,” John continued, quieting down as he continued tending the fire. “If you’re part of a trade guild, you’re expected to participate in the guild feasts and idol worship. To appease the gods and bring good luck upon the guild’s activities. Not participating could put your business or guild job in jeopardy. You could lose your house. Your family could starve. I get it, I truly do, Alexander. But as people of the Way, we cannot compromise with the pagan culture! That’s the message I was given just this day. ‘Hold on to what you have until I come,’ King Jesus said. Cling to and guard and protect the once-for-all faith he has entrusted to us, we must. Oppose the heretical teachings, he pleaded! Christ is encouraging the true believers of Thyatira to maintain a firm grip on the truths of the faith against the false teachings of Jezebel and the other Nicolaitans that have invaded the Church.”

  And Ichthus, with Weiss’s and Nicolai’s Panligo…

  “Same for Sardis. Spiritual vigilance is the key to their own letter. ‘Remember, therefore, what you have received and heard,’ King Jesus said. ‘Hold it fast, and repent,’ he urged. Wake up and remember the truths of the apostles that you’ve received, I say! Wake up and remember the truths of the Church’s teachings that you’ve heard, I say!”

  “Like the Ephesians,” Alexander offered, interrupting John’s flow.

  “Yes, like the Ephesians,” John said slowly, seemingly startled by his contribution. “But I thought you said you hadn’t heard of the Nicolaitan controversy.”

  Way to go, Alex! Think fast...

  “Oh, right. I had heard of some controversy coming from Asia Minor in my travels. Hadn’t known the name until now.”

  John cocked his head, then shook it and said, “At any rate, yes, like the Church of Ephesus. Now there is a shining example of heretic intolerance if I’ve ever seen one! And Lord Christ acknowledged this as a real strength of theirs. They could not bear them. They proved them false. They also proved themselves as a church that would not tolerate false teachers. Not only did they stand firm for the right teachings of the faith. Triumphed over the heretics and maintained their spiritual watchfulness, they did!”

  “Sounds like a real model for the Church in any age,” Alexander said. Seemed like Ichthus could learn a thing or two from this early Church.

  “Yes, but they’ve got their own set of problems. Quite a few things to say about them as well, King Jesus did.”

  “Like what? You speak of overcoming. How much more overcoming can you be than what the Ephesians did?”

  “You’re right, lad. They overcame the heretics. But it’s not just about that. Faithful witness to Christ isn’t merely about a commitment to truth. It’s also about a commitment to love.”

  “What do you mean by that? Or, what does Lord Christ mean by that, because I’m assuming that’s part of what he instructed you to write to the Church of Ephesus.”

  “That’s right. He said their weakness is that they love truth more than they love God or one another. Their early love had grown cold, being replaced with a harsh zeal for orthodoxy. Right beliefs replaced right living. Now, indeed their hatred for the Nicolaitan heretics mirrors God’s own hatred for them—”

  “God hates heretics?” Alexander interrupted.

  “Not the people, but their works. King Jesus himself said as much. ‘You hate the practices of the Nicolaitans, which I also hate,’ he said. But while they guarded their internal purity, they had forsaken their external witness! Our primary task as the Church of Christ is to be a light of witness to the outside world. Jesus said they lost their primary love. They lost their zeal for loving the world in bearing witness to the life, death, resurrection, and accession of our blessed Lord and Savior.”

  Alexander’s mind swam with thoughts about the implications of these two indictments for the Church back home. Ichthus was Ephesus and Thyatira in one—tolerating heretics and forsaking their witness in the world! What a shame...

  “So four out of seven churches sound like they’re in big trouble,” Alexander offered. “Are there any that are hopeful models?”

  “Oh yes, brother. And they’re the most unlikely of the bunch!” John exclaimed, laughing with glee. “Smyrna and Philadelphia, they are. Small and weak, yet strong and faithful. Suffered the most, they have, because of affliction and tribulations, poverty and slander. And over those brothers and sisters the Empire will cover them with a fierce wave of persecution in the coming years, warns King Jesus.”

  John became quiet. Staring down into the dirt. He added another large log to the fire and blew at the white and pink embers.

  “Many will walk the road of martyrdom, Christ says. Sardis and Philadelphia will suffer great opposition and oppression in the coming years. It’s a guarantee, what with the synagogue of Satan right in their midst.” John stopped and smiled, an odd switch to the mostly melancholy man that Alexander had seen. “But don’t you worry, they will be preserved! Because of their faithfulness to Christ, they are given the promise of being kept by God. They won’t be preserved from persecution, but they surely will be protected in its midst. Yes, they will, you’ll see. That’s a lesson the rest of our brothers and sisters could learn around the Great Sea.”

  And around the world—across the vast expans
e of phases of the world through time.

  “Is that what Lord Christ told you to write them? That they will survive?”

  “Indeed. And to Smyrna ‘Be faithful,’ he said, ‘even to the point of death, and I will give you life as your victor’s crown. The one who is victorious will not be hurt at all by the second death.’”

  “Death doesn’t sound like victory,” Alexander mumbled.

  “Oh, but it is, brother. It is! Persecution and death for Christ’s sake, because of Jesus’ name, is a great privilege. Martyrdom is victory over Satan. Our Lord and Savior proved that in his resurrection, don’t you see? At the precise moment the Enemy thought he had won by killing the Son of God, he actually lost. Through death, Christ was victorious, which was proved true in his resurrection. The same is true for Smyrna and Philadelphia.”

  John stopped and stared into Alexander’s eyes, penetrating him in a way that made him feel uncomfortable. He added, “The same is true for you and me, lad, no matter our outcome on this rock.”

  Alexander grew quiet and shifted positions on the dusty ground as John continued staring. He took his stick and began poking at the fire, trying not to appear uncomfortable at what appeared as a gentle chiding by this great apostle.

  “You said there were seven churches,” Alexander finally said. “But you’ve only mentioned six so far.”

  “Do we really need to talk about the Church-that-shall-not-be-named? That wretched lukewarm whore between Hierapolis and Colossae!”

  “You mean Laodicea.”

  “Quite your tongue, lad,” John hissed. “Or I’ll feed it to the fire!”

  “Alright, alright,” Alexander said as he scooted back, hands raised in defense. “What’s the problem with Lao…err, the Church-that-shall-not-be-named?”

  John shot him a look of disgust. “Worse than Sardis, if you can believe it! Not even a hint of a faithful minority. They should be known for their refreshing, life-giving ministry. Instead, they are lukewarm and devoid of any works. Useless to King Jesus, they are. In fact, he said he’s ready to spit them out of his mouth, that’s how much they make him sick!”

  “That sounds like some major issues.”

  “A lukewarm spirituality has replaced their former zeal for Lord Christ. And amongst the seven churches, they have no good reason for their radical transformation. They don’t have external pressures from pagans or religious leaders like Smyrna and Philadelphia. They have no internal pressures from heretics like Ephesus and Sardis, Thyatira and Pergamum. Their problem is that they are fat and happy, so they think they need no help from God. Their material wealth has seduced them into believing they are spiritually wealthy. But in essence King Jesus says, ‘No, wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked, you are!’ But amazingly, Lord Christ still loves them. He’s standing at their door, waiting for them to open and let him back inside.”

  John paused. He seemed exhausted from the conversation and ready to be done. “My prayer is that whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to this and all the churches—both now and in the future.”

  Alexander nodded as John adjusted his position, turning away and moving closer to the fire. He sat still, processing what John said Jesus Christ himself was telling these seven churches through his messenger—as well as the Church across time’s phases.

  “Perseverance and preservation,” Alexander mumbled.

  John looked over at him, brow furrowed with confusion. “What was that, lad?”

  Alexander reddened for speaking aloud. “I just said, perseverance and preservation. The two themes of the seven letters.”

  John nodded, poking at the fire again with his stick. “Go on.”

  “Well, it seems that in different ways the churches need to persevere, whether because they’re being persecuted physically or economically or socially because of their beliefs. And then they’re called to preserve those beliefs. To hold on to the once-for-all-faith entrusted to God’s holy people, as brother Jude wrote in his letter. And perhaps part of what it means to persevere is to preserve…”

  He trailed off as he considered his own context back home.

  Worldwide, Ichthus was being assaulted by those who were bent on destroying the Church and scaring people into giving up their beliefs. But another front in the Church’s ongoing battle was beginning to emerge as well—the same kind of threat the Nicolaitans posed. Ichthus was being encouraged to give up its distinctive beliefs and practices in favor of the harmony the Republic demanded. Apollos Nicolai and Dominic Weiss were leading that charge. Yet here is the original witness who recorded the message of Lord Christ, urging churches now and later to ‘hold on to what you have’ and ‘remember what you have received and heard.’

  Alexander looked up from his deep reflection, a smile stretching across his face. “Thank you, brother.” He reached over and embraced John the Seer, nearly breaking him in two.

  “Don’t kill me before my time, lad.”

  “Sorry!” Alexander said, leaning back.

  “And thank you for what, brother? I don’t understand.”

  “For your warnings. For your witness.” Alexander sat silently, marveling at this opportunity he had been given to sit with and listen to this hero of the faith. He worked hard to hold back the deluge of joy trying to break through his eyes. He stood up abruptly and began making his way out of the Cave of the Apocalypse.

  “I should let you rest, brother. It sounds like you’ve had an exhausting day.”

  “But where will you go? Where will you stay?”

  He paused at the door and smiled. “In the bosom of our Lord and Savior. Blessings, brother John.”

  Alexander made his way through the moonlit forest back to the main path that led to the dried basin valley. He slid down the embankment, looking back up the hill to make sure he hadn’t been followed. Blessedly, no one could be seen under the clear, full-moon sky.

  He returned to his drop zone just as the new day was beginning to dawn, finding the transport belt where he left it among the gnarled roots. As he fastened the device around his waist, he crouched low behind the tree and remained still to make sure no one had followed him, especially John. After a few moments, he was convinced he was alone. He stood silently and engaged the small display on the front of the belt’s face to direct it to bring him home again.

  He pressed the large auto-return button. The display began blinking the familiar green Russian word that indicated the belt was ready. Alexander stole one more look up and around the basin. When he was satisfied he was alone, he pressed the button once more to confirm his return flight through time.

  Alexander closed his eyes, ready to return back to the future and bring with him what he had retrieved from the ancient Church—for the sake of the future Church.

  Chapter 20

  Island of Patmos, AD 2123.

  The familiar undulating, vibrating waves began to take hold of Alexander’s body, shocking him and warming him all at once as he zoomed through the bright luminescence of time at speeds he could only imagine. Every atom tingled with the familiar static charge, casting off the welcomed scent of time travel. He continued squeezing his eyes closed, concerned that if he opened them his retinas would sizzle and head would explode.

  Then, as quickly as the warming vibrations and fluid tingles started, they all at once ceased. A feeling of levitation and weightlessness gave way to a heavy groundedness. The bright light also dimmed slightly, though not as dark as when he arrived at Patmos. Slowly, sound began to return to his silenced ears as well. The sound of swaying trees and distant, lapping waves, of squawking gulls and the call of a friend. Father Jim.

  Alexander snapped his eyes open and heaved lungfuls of air. He looked around to find himself back on Patmos in the waning evening hours, the sun casting large, long shadows across the land as it crept down underneath the horizon. In the distance, Father Jim blurred into focus as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings. The cardinal was calling to him as he ran to greet him with a sm
ile as broad and wide as the island itself.

  “Alex, my boy, you made it!” Father Jim tackled him with an equal measure of relief and excitement for Alexander’s return, squeezing him with more force than he imagined the man could muster at his age. He let go only to return back to embracing his beloved student, tears pricking the outer edges of his eyes.

  “It’s you. It really is you,” the man said breathlessly. “I thought I had lost you. You were gone so long I got worried. Sasha has got to be sick of me by now. I called nearly non-stop through the afternoon!”

  “Through the afternoon?” Alexander exclaimed with confusion. “How long was I gone?”

  “Five hours!”

  His jaw literally dropped. “You mean to tell me I zipped back in time across over 740,000 days and then forward again…and it only took five hours here?”

  “It’s all quite remarkable, isn’t it? I just called him when I saw you zap into view. As you can imagine, Sasha’s brain is reeling with the possibilities. The way he figures it, it took you time to traverse the centuries back several phases to AD 95. And then you spent however long you were there and took just as long to come back. And you’re alive, my boy. You lived to tell about it!”

  Father Jim embraced Alexander once more. He returned the affection, thrilled to be home after the ordeal and happy to be alive.

  “Now, what happened, my boy? Did you find him, John the Apostle? Did you retrieve what we needed you to retrieve? Go on, what happened?”

  “Slow down, Padre! Goodness, I can barely process the events myself.” Alexander toppled over and sat down, feeling disoriented and dizzy from the return, like a bad case of vertigo compounded with a hangover.

  “Whoa, Alex. Are you alright?” Father Jim grabbed for Alexander’s arm and helped him sit before joining him on the hard ground of packed dirt.

  “I think so. Just give me a minute.” He put his head between his knees for a few moments to focus his mind, taking deep, purposeful breaths. After a minute, he said, “It was amazing, Father. I mean, I can’t even describe how the travel experience went. It was like sitting in an electrified whirlpool after a midsummer rain.”