Lord, Lord, Hadassah prayed, he is so like Claudius, and Claudius never had the ears to hear. Holding the wooden cup between her hands, she prayed Alexander would not only listen, but comprehend.
“God created mankind to live in a love relationship with him and to reflect his character. People weren’t created to live independent from God.”
“Go on,” he said, waving his hand, impatient to hear.
She told of Adam and Eve in the Garden and how God had given them free will, and how they had sinned by believing Satan over God. She told him how they had been cast out of the Garden. She told about Moses and the Law and how every day, all day long, offerings were burned to cover sin. Yet, all those sacrifices could never wash it completely away. Only God had been able to accomplish that by sending his only begotten Son to die as the final atoning sacrifice for all mankind. Through Jesus, the walls were torn down and man could once again be with God by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit.
“‘For God . . . gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life,’” she quoted. “Yet, for all this, most people still live in a state of separation.”
“And it’s this state of separation that causes disease?” Alexander said, intrigued.
She shook her head. “You see things only in the physical, Alexander. Disease can come when man refuses to live within God’s plan. Severina, for example. The Lord warned against the practice of prostitution. He warned against promiscuity. He warned against many things, and those who practice them bear the consequences of their sin. Perhaps many diseases are just that, consequences of disobedience.”
“And so if Severina were to obey the laws of your god, she would be well again. Is that it?”
Hadassah closed her eyes behind her veil. Lord, why did you let me live when I always fail in everything you give me? Why can’t I find the words to make him understand?
“Hadassah?”
Her eyes burned with tears of frustration. She spoke very slowly, as to a small child. “The Law was given that man might recognize his sinfulness and turn away from wickedness to the Lord. You see mankind as physical and seek solutions in that realm, but man is also a spiritual being, designed in the image of God. How will you ever learn who and what you are without learning who God is?” Her voice broke softly, and she saw his frown.
She bit her lip before going on. “Our relationship with God affects our body, yes. But it affects our emotions and our mind, as well. It affects our very spirit.” Her hands tightened on the wooden cup as she lowered her head. “I believe true healing can only happen when a person is restored to God himself.”
Alexander remained silent, thoughtful. He tore off another piece of bread and dipped it in his wine, giving himself extra time to think over what she had just said. His heart began to beat rapidly as it always did when an idea came to him. He ate his bread quickly and then drained his cup, setting it aside. Standing up, he dusted the bread crumbs from his hands and cleared a space on his worktable. Mixing soot with water, he prepared ink with which to write. Selecting a clear scroll, he sat and opened it, setting weights to hold it flat.
“Tell me a few of these laws,” he commanded, writing down “By the grace of god” as his first notation.
Did he hear nothing, Lord? Nothing at all? “Salvation is not in the Law.”
“I’m not talking about salvation. I’m talking about treating patients.”
“God! Why did you leave me here? Why didn’t you take me home?” It was a cry of pure anguish and frustration, and the hair on the back of Alexander’s neck stood on end. She was crying, clutching her head in her hands, and it was his fault. What would her god do to him now?
He left his stool and knelt before her. “Don’t call down the wrath of your god on me before you’ve heard what I have to say.” He took her hands and touched his forehead to them.
She snatched her hands away and pushed him back. “Get off your knees to me! Am I God that you should bow down to me?”
Astonished, he drew back. “Your god has set you apart. He hears you,” he said, rising and sitting on his stool again. “As you said to me once, I didn’t save your life. Nor can I explain how it happened. Your wounds were putrefying, Hadassah. By all the laws of nature and science that I know, you should be dead. Yet, here you are.”
“Scarred and crippled . . .”
“Otherwise healthy. Why would your god save you and not others?”
“I don’t know,” she said bleakly. She shook her head. “I don’t know why he saved my life at all.” She had thought she knew God’s purpose for her: To die in the arena. But it seemed God had another mission.