Free Shout in the Dark by Christopher Wright Page B

however, it produces a harvest of
righteousness and peace. The first part, at any rate, seemed to be true.
    The sister disappeared with a brief wink for
Marco, leaving Father Josef to pour the coffee.
    " I already know something of your background, young Marco,"
the old priest said. "I have some work planned for you."
    As Marco looked up in surprise, Father
Josef held up a hand. "Drink your coffee, while I read what Eusebius of Caesarea
has to tell us in his seventh book about his trip to Caesarea
Philippi, just north of the Sea of Galilee. I have here a
translation of chapter eighteen. I see no reason for us to struggle
with the original Greek."
    Father Josef pushed his half-moon glasses to
the end of his nose as he turned the large book towards the light
from the tall windows. He began to read.
    " For the sake of those who come after us, I do not
think it right to leave out a story that is worth telling. The
people here say that the woman who had an issue of blood -- and who as we learn from the Gospels
found healing at the hands of our Savior -- came from this place. In the city they showed us her house
where there are still some wonderful reminders of the good act that
the Savior did to her. "
Father Josef paused to raise the gold-rimmed cup of espresso to his
thin lips. "This was, I believe, written in 325 AD," he added,
taking a hushed sip.
    " And it's reliable?" Marco hardly needed confirmation. The
Church generally regarded the Ecclesiastical History of Eusebius as
trustworthy. Certainly Sister Maria, who had taught him the
catechism and ecclesiastical history at school, gave the man a good
name for accuracy -- although she had definitely called some of his
theology into question.
    " I will read on." Father Josef replaced the small cup in its
saucer, without the slightest tremor from his hand.
    " On a high stone at the gates of her house we saw a
bronze statue of a woman. She was bending on one knee, and
stretching out with her hands. Opposite her was another figure made
of the same metal, a standing figure of a man wearing a double
cloak. He was reaching out to the woman. At his feet, on the
monument itself, a strange species of plant was growing. It climbed
up to the border of the double cloak of bronze, and acted as an
antidote to all kinds of diseases. This statue, the people told us,
was the likeness of Jesus. We saw it with our own eyes when we
stayed in the city. It is not surprising that those people, who
long ago had good things done to them by our Savior, should have
made these objects. We also saw the likenesses of Christ's
apostles, of Paul and Peter, and indeed of Christ himself,
preserved in pictures painted in colors. "
    Father Josef removed his glasses and
placed the book on the dark oak table. "It is a reference to the
account told in the New Testament gospels by Matthew, Mark and
Luke. You will remember how in Luke chapter eight the woman thought
she merely had to touch the hem of Jesus' cloak to be cured?
Eusebius is telling us the statue was built by the people who had
actually seen Jesus heal this woman."
    " I know the story," said Marco. "She was one brave
woman."
    " Well said, Father Marco. According to Jewish law anyone in
contact with the dead or with blood was ceremonially unclean. This
woman was treated as an outcast, ceremonially unclean with internal
bleeding for twelve years, yet she dared reach out and touch a
man."
    " No wonder she tried to do it without anyone
knowing."
    Father Josef nodded. "Those people also
saw Jesus bring the synagogue ruler's daughter back to life. They
heard him claim to be the Son of God. We can be certain they would
have made a fair likeness."
    Marco looked up quickly. "And you really
believe some of those things are still around?"
    " I am sure the paintings have perished, but the statue...?"
Father Josef shrugged. "The official Vatican line today is that no
part of it still exists, which I find strange in the
circumstances."
    " I can't see it would tell us much