Tears of the Bishop: The Faith in Peril Trilogy, #2

By Holly Newcastle

Book 2 of "The Faith in Peril Trilogy”

Anna Glick finds Bishop Elijah Hartzler’s sermons engaging and honest, but his pain is at times evident. His wife, Justine, is pregnant with their third child, although the first two did not survive their births. As she prepares to go into labor, everyone prays for her, including Anna, who wishes nothing but happiness and peace for the long-suffering bishop.

When tragedy strikes, the community rallies, but, in his anguish, Elijah pushes everyone away. Stumbling upon him hiding in a cornfield, Anna consoles the grieving man, and her words ease his sorrow. A friendship forms between the two, and, through the tears, a connection develops…growing into something far deeper.

But everyone thinks Anna will marry Abram Zug, who she has been courting. To compound matters, the Albrechts have taken it upon themselves to be ever-present at Bishop Hartzler’s house, pushing their daughter, Catherine, in his direction. Through the trials of grief and loss, Elijah is determined to follow his heart, even if it means breaking all the rules in the process.

• Language: English
• Publisher: All Is Calm Publishing
• Release date: Aug 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386222811

Book preview

Chapter

1

Lancaster County,

Pennsylvania

1886

Sitting in church for three hours on a backless bench wasn’t something most young people enjoyed, but ever since Elijah Hartzler had been voted in as Bishop, I had become fascinated. A quiet, unassuming man, Elijah Hartzler had been a member of our district from birth. I had hardly given him more than a thought over the years, but, recently, I prayed for him, because his wife had lost two babies to stillbirth. Her having fallen pregnant again, we all prayed history would not repeat itself.

The bishop’s calling had not been preaching, although the job had been given to him after the members voted last spring. The first few sermons sounded awkward and stilted, his unease and inexperience evident. However, Elijah Hartzler grew in confidence over time, becoming a vast improvement over Bishop Graber, who droned on in a dull monotone, while rambling off-topic and often diverging into tangents that put children to sleep.

I found Bishop Hartzler’s manner fresh and appealing. His stoic acceptance of having been voted in had left him humbled and compliant, wanting to be deserving of such a job, although it remained doubtful he had ever coveted it. Most preachers are stunned when they are chosen; the burden of the responsibility is for life, with no monetary compensation for all the hours that are required. But this is how we had always selected our spiritual leaders, just as in the New Testament, when Matthias was chosen to replace Judas by

casting

lots

.

I sat on a bench with girls I had gone to school with, because age and gender dictated the seating. My older sister, Rebekah, sat a row down and Mam and Dat were several behind her. My youngest sister, Ruth, sat amongst the sixteen-year-olds. Mildred and Caleb Heiser hosted church this morning, and the members of the district had taken over their barn for the service. Our buggies stood parked along an uncultivated field. Everyone felt the lack of ventilation, even with the doors ajar, as kapps had begun to wilt and faces glistened with perspiration. The aroma of freshly cut timothy hay lingered in the air, while several pigeons cooed over our heads from their perch in the rafters.

Although my back ached from having to sit so straight, I waited patiently for Bishop Hartzler to speak, as a deacon had just finished a reading. All of our sermons were spoken in Pennsylvania German. We then kneeled to pray. After we sat again, Bishop Graber stood to address us, reading a passage of scripture from Genesis 3:19, which told of toiling by the sweat of one’s brow, while laboring in the fields

for

food

.

Bishop Graber spoke solemnly, "You must guard against sin and vice. If you keep yourselves busy enough, you’ll not be tempted. Laziness is not a virtue. Don’t let the devil find you idle. The devil has great power in this regard, because he’s cunning and wicked. If he senses your laziness, he’ll come. Keep yourselves gainfully employed in some manner every day, or God will hold you accountable for how you spend

your

time

."

My mind had begun to drift, tuning out whatever else he said, while waiting for Bishop Hartzler to stand. When he did, a silent sigh of relief lightened the mood almost instantly. Brighter passages of scripture and pleasant observations of life often filled the content of Elijah’s sermons. Although he and his wife had suffered the loss of two babies, he continued to carry himself with confidence and optimism, and this explained why I gasped inwardly when he stood

before

us

.

Bishop Hartzler looked pale and drawn, with dark circles beneath his eyes, despite it being the heat of summer. Most everyone I knew spent a great deal of time outside, tending to crops and gardens. My first thought was that something had happened to his wife Justine and her baby, but I spied her sitting in the row before Mam, her expression placid and her demeanor attentive. From the bulge of her belly, which tented her apron, it was clear she still carried the child.

Why does he look so ill? Is

he

sick

?

I glanced at my older sister, Rebekah, to ascertain if she noticed anything might be amiss, but her look remained bland. Joseph, her two-year-old boy, sat quietly in her lap, holding a

wooden

toy

.

Am I the only one who sees this? He looks tired and stressed. I wonder what’s the matter?

Tall and thin, Bishop Hartzler’s strength lay hidden beneath loose fitting trousers and a black jacket. However, I had seen him often enough in the fields to know he was far stronger than he appeared, because such labor was backbreaking. Slightly gaunt cheeks and a beard lighter than his hair color graced his face. What I found truly remarkable about him were his eyes—the most beautiful green I had ever seen. When he spoke, the smooth baritone of his voice slid over me like a soothing cup of tea or a warm, soft blanket. Listening to him usually brought comfort, but … I suspected today might be different.

He would read from the Bible, clearing his throat, while we waited for him to begin. "‘In my distress I cried unto the Lord, and he heard me. Deliver my soul, O Lord, from lying lips and from a deceitful tongue. What shall be given unto thee? Or what shall be done unto thee, thou false tongue? Sharp arrows of the mighty, with coals of juniper. Woe is me, that I sojourn in Mesech, that I dwell in the tents of Kedar! My soul hath long dwelt with him that hateth peace. I am for peace: but when I speak, they are for war. Psalm120.’"

He closed the book, remaining silent for a long moment.

There are many ways to interpret this, as we’re all aware of David’s distress. He glanced about the room. This has nothing to do with any particular incident or person. I read it because I often feel this way inside my head … it’s a metaphor for my thoughts, but I think they’ve turned against me. He clasped his hands before him, looking ill at ease. I’ve been blessed in this life with health and a beautiful wife. I want for nothing, save for children, but we pray they shall come, although … it’s been difficult. You know what we’ve suffered in this respect. He stared at the floor. "I won’t belabor those facts—they are what

they

are

."

A horse neighed in the stall,

interrupting

him

.

The reading … was personal. I want to be delivered from my own dark thoughts. An earnest look graced his face, but his shoulders had slumped marginally. You’ve cast your votes for me. You thought me worthy to preach, and I endeavor to be, but … it’s difficult. I’m not as strong as you think, and I don’t wish to disappoint anyone. I worry I’ll be a failure. I worry I won’t measure up to your expectations.

I glanced at his wife, Justine, to assess her response to this sermon, but she remained impassive, folding her hands over her distended belly. How could she be so calm in light of what was just said? Did anyone find his speech concerning, or was it

only

me

?

If I could ask something—although I’ve no right to, but if I could again. Would you pray for my wife, Justine? She’s nearing the end of this pregnancy and … he paused to take a breath, we’re in need of help. Only He can safely deliver this precious child to us, but it’ll take a great many prayers.

I had been watching him closely, as the pieces of the puzzle snapped into place. Her health worried him sick. With two stillborn babies, he seemed terrified of another or worse. I felt his fear keenly, which seemed to emanate from him in waves. Although I sat five rows back, it felt as if he stood directly in front of me. When I glanced at Justine, she avoided looking at her husband, staring at a bale of hay

behind

him

.

I thank you all for your patience this morning. It’s rather hot, isn’t it? He forced a grin, his forehead gleaming with perspiration. He picked up a little black book—the Ausbund. "I’ll read now, and then Ira may direct you in a hymn

or

two

."

While he spoke, I mulled over what I had seen and heard, wondering if anyone else had found it odd. Preachers occasionally veered from the topic, but this had been extraordinarily personal. Justine’s oblivious behavior perplexed me, although, perhaps he had embarrassed her. We waited another hour before all the prayers and songs had concluded, the somber service mercifully over. The heat of the midday sun had baked the roof of the barn, creating a

sweltering

oven

.

As we filed out, leaving the men behind to talk, I waded through a throng of women, until I reached Rebekah. "It’s

dreadfully

hot

."

She held Joseph, transferring him to another hip. The two-year-old babbled happily. Indeed. I enjoyed Bishop Hartzler very much, but not the other.

My sentiments exactly. She had been referring to Bishop Graber, who we did not care for. "What did you think about the deliver me O Lord sermon? I found

it

odd

."

It’s to be expected. She glanced over her shoulder, waving to Mam, who stood with Ruth, talking with another woman. He’s worried about his wife, that much was plain.

"That’s what I

thought

too

."

She leaned nearer, whispering, "We’re to help, you know, when she’s in labor. It could be any

day

now

."

For their sake, I pray she’s fine. I hope she delivers a healthy baby. I gazed at Rebekah’s bulging belly. "And

you

too

."

Oh, my back! She transferred Joseph to the other hip. "It’s

killing

me

."

I’ll take him. I held out my hands.

"

Thank

you

."

The toddler gazed at me with big blue eyes. Hello, Joseph. How are you? I adored my nephew, having watched over him often since his birth. I visited Rebekah nearly every week at their farm, which they built not far from our house. Have you been a good boy? He babbled in response.

Mam and Ruth approached, with my five-year-old brother, Abe. My other brothers, David and Jacob, remained in the barn with

the

men

.

How’s my lovely grandson? Mam held out her hands. Give him to me. He was such a good boy. Most children learned from an early age to behave in church. It was something that was ingrained in them—to be obedient and quiet, and to behave. He’s such a darling. She kissed his cheek, and he squealed happily.

You’re going to spoil him, said Rebekah. She wore a white kapp, the laces tied beneath

her

chin

.

Oh, no we won’t, said Mam. We love our little Joseph. She kissed him again.

I’m starving, muttered Ruth. I could eat that cow. She pointed to the heifer in the nearby field. "When can we

go

in

?"

When they’re done arranging everything, I said. Lunch would be served soon, and then we would return home for a nap. I’m hungry too. In the evening, there would be singing, an event everyone looked

forward

to

.

I spied Abram Zug, who I courted. He stood with his father and brothers, although he had seen me, nodding furtively in greeting. Now that we courted, we were only allowed to see one another every other week, after singing. All young couples had to endure this, and yet I bore it easily. My sister, Rebekah, was forced to wait a year to marry Daniel Stoltzfus, and she had driven us all mad in the process. Her lesson in patience was a burden on every single member of the family.

Her husband, Daniel, strode towards us, sporting a black felt hat. We eat soon, he said, grinning. "I hope you’re all hungry. Mrs. King made her famous Apple Pie

Pudding

Cake

."

Ruth perked up, grinning. That sounds heavenly.

His attention remained on Rebekah, and he approached her, touching her shoulder in an easy, yet possessive gesture. As always, their chemistry blazed, the light of contentment shining in their eyes when they gazed at one another. He turned to Mam. I’ll take him, if you want. The baby fussed then, squirming, wanting to be held by his father.

You go to your Dat, said Mam. He’s more than likely starved.

Like the rest of us. Ruth squinted. "It’s so hot. We should stand in the shade. I’ll faint dead away, if this

goes

on

."

My sister behaved like a typical, precocious sixteen-year-old. We’ll go in soon, I said. Have patience.

Rebekah fanned her face. It won’t be any cooler.

But the lemonade will be refreshing,

I

said

.

"I hope so. I’m

thirsty

too

."

All you complainers, said Mam, smiling. Not one word on how beautiful it is today, just I’m hungry. I’m thirsty.

And my back hurts, added Rebekah.

There’s good reason for that, said Mam. "You should find a seat somewhere,

my

dear

."

Daniel had taken his son to the barn, joining the other men, while the boys ran around noisily, engaging in horseplay. We had all been seated for more than three hours, and the children seemed ready to burst with energy.

I want to speak to Justine for a moment. She can commiserate with me. Rebekah left then, striding towards Bishop Hartzler’s wife, whose pregnancy was a month further along.

What do you think? I glanced

at

Mam

.

"

About

what

?"

Her prognosis.

You mean, Justine’s? She shrugged. The ‘English’ doctor examined her a few days ago. I can only hope all is well. It truly would be a tragedy if, she lowered her voice, "she lost

another

baby

."

"I think Bishop Hartzler is worried on that score. Does he seem tired-looking

to

you

?"

"Now that you mention it, yes. They’ve been through so much, Anna. No one should have to suffer in that way. They nearly lost Justine the last time. I’m certain that’s a source of worry

for

him

."

Having babies is dangerous,

said

Ruth

.

It is indeed, agreed Mam. Your Dat and I have been blessed with six healthy children, and now more grandbabies are on the way. David’s wife, Daisy, is due in a few months, and Rebekah will have another soon. She smiled. "Our cups runneth over; they truly do. The health of my children is all I ask for

these

days

."

My mother’s words were sobering. Years ago, my sister, Rebekah, and my brother, Jacob, and I had been lost in the woods, struggling for survival and fighting wolves. Our dog, Molly, had been attacked and killed. The situation had changed the way I saw the world, as those three days had been filled with fear, hope, and redemption. Daniel Stolzfus had found us and saved us, and my sister had fallen in love

with

him

.

They’re going in, said Mam. It’s time for lunch. I hope everyone likes the cabbage casserole.

I’m sure they will, said Ruth. I made it, after all. She grinned teasingly. "It won’t be long before I cook as well as

Mrs

.

King

."

So much for modesty, I murmured, although I recalled more than one burnt attempt that none of us

could

eat

.

Ruth’s pale, blonde hair stayed mostly hidden beneath a black kapp. She stood nearly as tall as I. She adored baking, having taken over most of the cooking responsibilities, as she was skilled and creative with recipes.

Everyone loves your food, I said. "I know

I

do

."

"Thank

you

,

Anna

."

You’re welcome.

Word went around that lunch was ready, and families wandered towards the house, which was a two-story structure with a white and green exterior; the front door painted brown. Every other Sunday we gathered at a home in our district for church and lunch. It was an honor to host church, but an extraordinary amount of effort went into this affair, because everyone wanted their farm to be tidy and clean, especially the house.

I sat with my family, although we knelt before our chairs to pray first. Bishop Hartzler