Seven Entombed

 

            A sudden, violent knocking sounded on Epherium's door, jarred him from a brief afternoon nap. Quickly sitting up, he vigorously rubbed his face, trying to make sense of the angry, abrupt, and unexpected noise that brought his stomach up into his throat. He opened the door to face a pale and trembling messenger, looking more apologetic than anything, as he started to read from a scroll in his hands.

              "Governor Epherium," he said, "I've been sent with this message to inform you that all citizens of the city, all government officials, and all members of the military are required to offer up a sacrifice to the gods of Ephesus. This sacrifice must be witnessed by at least ten people in a public place during the city-wide celebration in honor of our gods. There will be no exceptions. Signed, the Emperor."

              The young man then quickly turned and ran away, heading to the next government official, he assumed, leaving Epherium shocked and confused with this unexpected declaration, as it clearly violated the laws of the city, allowing for freedom of religion, short of civil unrest or disturbance. He sat at his desk, sent a messenger to find a scribe, and waited a few minutes before the young man arrived with ink and parchment in hand. Epherium then repeated, verbatim, the message given to him by the Emperor, to deliver to the troops under his care.

              Without a doubt, he knew the response that would come from some within the military, so he walked downtown to the city square, curious of the general response of the city, and expecting to hear copious amounts of complaining from his men and from the general citizens. He lingered about the busy streets, watching for any signs of obedience, disobedience, or civil unrest, when he caught sight of a group of soldiers approaching him. Seven young men, easily no more than twenty years of age, approached him and voiced their intent to disobey the order from the emperor, claiming that his demand clearly violated their religious freedom.

              Epherium agreed with their discontent, advised them to be careful and act with caution and wisdom, and to know that their response would certainly have unpleasant consequences, not just for themselves but for their loved ones and could easily influence the thinking and response of others. He bid them farewell and wished the blessing of the gods upon them, to watch them depart from the city. He rushed home to find a messenger to follow the seven young soldiers, curious what they planned to do and where they were going.

              The seven young soldiers passed through the main gates of the city, removed their weapons and most of their military uniforms, making a definitive statement against the oppression that surely awaited them. They reached a fork in the road and with one mind stopped, all of them looking directly forward at a small hill in the distance. "There," one of them said, "we will go to Celion hill and hide ourselves there, for anywhere will be searched and our presence would be revealed."

              The young men spread out in a line, looking for what they did not know, until one of them called out in excitement, bringing the other six to his side. "Here, this is perfect," he said, "this cave is large enough to obscure our presence, our God will protect us, I am certain." The young men all agreed and silently slipped into the cave, but they failed to acknowledge the presence of two shepherds at the foot of the hill, watching them and listening.

              Within the hour, the young men sat deep within the cave, trusting that everything would be safe and secure, until they heard the sound of many men working, arguing, and shifting about what seemed to be large rocks. The oldest among them, Dionysius, silently crept toward the opening to realize that all daylight had been completely blocked, sealing them inside with no water, no food, and little for clothing. He returned to his friends and explained what he had discovered but was still faithful and trusting that the end result of their stand for truth would bring about an ultimate good.

              Later that evening, a servant of Epherium sat alone in a tavern, small and unassuming, listening in on a conversation between two soldiers, telling of a message from two shepherds about a group of young men in a cave and the soldiers sealing the entrance. The servant waited until the soldiers left the tavern and he hurried back to Epherium's home to tell the story to his friend, Eusignius.

              "I overheard a messenger speaking to Governor Epherium about these men," he said. "They refused to offer sacrifices to the gods of Ephesus, gave up their identities as soldiers, and from the sounds of it, went into hiding. I have an idea. We need to find a metal plaque, engrave their names on it and put it in a safe place near the cave entrance. What these men have done is a good and brave thing. We must honor them."

              Seventy years passed and Eusignius lay on his death bed, and called for a new young servant, sharing with him the story of the seven soldiers sealed in the cave on the hill called Celion. "Tell as many people as you trust," he told him, "We must always honor these men and make sure that their story is not forgotten." The young servant gave him his word and returned home to write the story down so as not to forget any of the details.

              Another seventy years passed and the young servant, now a nearly crippled and blind old man, repeated the process that Eusignius began with him, calling for a young man to share the story of those sealed away on the hill name Celion. The story was memorized by this young man and sixty years later, he went for a walk to and upon the hill named Celion to find the cave, now no longer sealed with stone, for shepherds had cleared the opening to build a shelter for their sheep. The elderly man stood several yards back from the opening and looked into the darkness, remembering all of the details shared to him about the soldiers.

              His grandson, an older teen stood with him and suddenly called out as the young men emerged from the cave, unchanged, unharmed, and glowing with a remarkable radiance as they entered the sunshine. "Go, tell everyone," the old man said to his grandson. "Something incredible has just taken place, we must tell as many as we can."

              Within the hour, a massive crowd of people joined them at the foot of the hill, looking up at the young men, healthy, robust, clean, and in clothing reminiscent of citizens from the past. The emperor arrived shortly after and approached the young to engage in conversation, seeking answers from them about their identity, under which general they served and what they hoped to do, now that they were free from their captivity.

              Confused and alarmed by the number of people around them, the radical difference in the fields, the clothing, and the size of the city, they joined the Emperor for several days, learning about all that had taken place over the last two hundred years. A full week came and went, and the young men separated themselves from everyone in the city, and made the decision to return to the cave, for clearly their God had done something remarkable in sustaining them and protecting them for such a long period of time.

              Before they left for the cave, Dionysius called for a scribe to take down a message for him to deliver to the Emperor no sooner than two hours from that moment. The young men spent a few moments walking through the town and were pleased to see that the former gods of Ephesus had disappeared, had lost all of their followers, or had been completely forgotten, hopefully all three they thought.

              As darkness fell for the evening, they passed through the shadows, left the city, and returned to the hill named Celion, to thankfully see no one anywhere nearby. They silently walked up the hill, and into the cave, to once again return to their places of rest for the last two centuries. In a singular collective breathe, the young men became as statues, untouched, beautiful, clean, and safe within the confines of the cave, no longer with a seal across the entrance.

              Two hours later, the scribe delivered the message to the Emperor, leaving the Emperor amazed and confused, wondering why such beautiful young men would choose to return to their tomb when they had so much more life to live and deeds to accomplish. As it was close to midnight, the Emperor thought to build golden coffins for them as a measure of honor, desiring to make up for what the previous Emperor had done wrong.

              Within the hour, the Emperor lay down in his bed with his wife and promptly fell asleep to only be awakened three hours later by a remarkable golden glow in his sleeping chamber. He sat up, shielded his eyes from the inexplicable presence of light, to catch a glimpse of the seven young men standing at the foot of his bed. Dionysius spoke to him with very specific instructions. "Oh Emperor," he said, "I know that you mean well, but do not disturb us, do not build golden coffins for us, seal up the cave and leave us in peace. For this is the future that God has created for us. We will see you after you depart your time here. Life awaits us all."