In the Last Hour...

In the last hour our voices rose up like incense, in hushed prayer and song. We shared the Biblical words and scriptural stories of God's promise to send one who would be our teacher and our inspiration and our savior, one who would come as a child and live as a common carpenter and rabbi. The one who would save us would be misunderstood and maligned, rejected, accused, and executed. But although he would physically leave our presence, he would always be with us in spirit; and finally after the time of war and pestilence, of suffering and grief, of anguish and weeping, he would come again and take his faithful believers to be with him.

We are too many to be comfortable for long in this hidden meeting place we have chosen. We are many for this small below ground room; but we are so few compared to the huge number we have worked with, played with, and called friends. Even those we have loved as family are not all here. Where are they gone, what can they be thinking--those who have chosen "the mark" rather than give up creature comforts and the open, material lives we had all come to believe we valued. When it was time to make the absolute decision about what was really important, what was really cherished, what was the true "bottom line," there were great conflicts, great divisions. Many who surprised us, so many it astounded us, brushed away the faith for the "things." It is almost inconceivable that we have come full circle to the Roman days we read about in Sunday school, where we must identify others who are true believers with recognition symbols and must speak of our faith and hope and belief only to those we fully trust.

In the last hour, as we huddled together in awful apprehension, but in comfortable fellowship with beloved friends, family and like-minded believers, we felt the spirit wash over us, and we were at peace, at least for the moment, in this place. And we continued to wait.