Stories of the Second Swordsman

By Heard Lowry

Stories of the Second Swordsman is a collection of allegorical stories written from the viewpoint of a man who was a follower of Christ while He was here on earth. They illustrate spiritual insights in a way that is intended to stimulate thought about the Kingdom of God, and draw in references to occurrences and lessons from the Scriptures.

The tales are presented in a first-person narrative of a follower who journeyed through the land on a mission to present the Good News. They portray what life might have been like during the unfolding of the Greatest Story Ever Told.

The collection is organized into four parts to consider aspects of the mission, the creative nature of our response, struggles that are encountered along the way, and how our spiritual ideas can be reshaped. The stories are meant to be thought-provoking and inspiring.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Oct 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781490851204

Heard Lowry

Heard Lowry, a Christian, has been studying the Bible and writing short articles and stories for more than forty-five years. He has been a teacher and preacher of the gospel at various local congregations. You can read more of his stories and lessons at www.storiesofthesecondswordsman.com. He lives with his wife, Soozie, and together they enjoy their flower garden, which they have turned into a sacred place of refuge and meditation. He is also the author of The Second Swordsman.

Book preview

PART I

The Mission

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INTRODUCTION: THE ARMOR OF GOD

The mission of the follower of Christ is to fight for the truth. To accomplish this, he is given the armor of God as indicated in several biblical passages. The second swordsman took advantage of this spiritual protection to spread the news of the kingdom. He put on righteousness as his breastplate, and the helmet of salvation on his head; he put on the garments of vengeance and wrapped himself in zeal as in a cloak (Isaiah 59:17). Now consider the following quotation:

Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. (Ephesians 6:10–17)

Consider these other quotations: Putting on the breastplate of faith and love, and as a helmet the hope of salvation (1 Thessalonians 5:8). For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds (2 Corinthians 10:3–4). The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light" (Romans 13:12).

There is somewhat of a variation on this theme in Isaiah 11:5, which says, Righteousness will be his belt and faithfulness the sash around his waist. And there is more in Isaiah 61:10, which states, My soul rejoices in my God. For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness, as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.

The second swordsman took advantage of each of the components of the armor of God, but he involved himself in many other things, as the reader will see.

THE SECOND SWORDSMAN

The Great Teacher asked us, When I sent you without purse, bag, or sandals, did you lack anything? We, of course, had to say no. But then He seemed to change His strategy and told us that we should pack our bags. We assumed that we were going out for another mission trip, but He made it seem like we were preparing for battle when He told us to sell our coats and buy a sword.¹ When we realized that there we already had two swords among us and told Him so, He seemed satisfied. He said that it was enough for His purpose, and I expected it to result in a great miracle. I felt a rush of excitement as He began to talk to us of what lay ahead.

Things didn’t actually go as I expected. We went to the garden, and we were ready to die for Him; however, our perspective changed so very quickly. Peter, who was always ready for action and had one of the swords, drew it to protect the Teacher from being arrested, and he sliced a man’s ear off.² At that instant we all thought that the glory of the kingdom would shine and that we would, like in the time of Jonathon,³ win a great victory against great odds. It seemed like this was the spark to start a wildfire that would sweep the kingdom before it, but when the Teacher told us to stop fighting, time suddenly seemed to stand still. In the ensuing quiet the Teacher healed the injured man, and then we all lost our grip on things and ran away.

Everyone is familiar now with Peter’s story. But I was the second swordsman. I was the owner of the other sword. I had drawn my sword along with Peter, but I ended up using it to cut my way through the underbrush in my rush to escape. By the time I was free and out of danger, my hand was frozen to the sword,⁴ and I couldn’t let go.

I wasn’t one of what they called the Twelve. I was not sent out the first time, but I was one of the seventy-something who was engaged in the second mission. There were several others of us from that group in addition to the Twelve who continued to follow Him and were present with the Teacher through the last hours of His life. Like several of the others, I sought to record some of the marvelous happenings that occurred during our mission and later in our pursuit of the Way as we continued to follow Him.

The sword with its cruciform shape became a symbol to me of the redirection that my life took while I was in the garden (and especially while I was leaving it). I decided to carry it wherever I went. It continued to remind me that without help I cannot reason things out by myself. Whenever I held it, I felt a little flinch in my hand, and when the sunlight made it flash, I felt a strange excitement. In a way it was calling me to carry the sword of the Spirit⁵ and to pursue the true spiritual kingdom of God.

THE BELT OF TRUTH

We went about the country as ambassadors⁶ of the kingdom. Our mission was to carry the truth with us and protect it as we would the most fragile commodity.⁷ We were dedicated to not letting anything strip it from us or allowing it to become degraded. Our goal was to deliver it to others untainted and whole. I thought of those who in another time had the tremendous responsibility of carrying the ark of the covenant.⁸

We took on this work, knowing that there was nothing that could separate us from this truth,⁹ though of course if we were weak and untrusting, we could let go of it.¹⁰ We therefore drove forward with it, not letting it stumble¹¹ or fall to the ground.¹² We had to ensure that it could always be found¹³ and that it would never perish.¹⁴

We wore the truth in a sense as clothing,¹⁵ binding it and other virtues around us.¹⁶ Our belts cinched everything together¹⁷ and allowed us to maneuver¹⁸ as it did Elijah, Gehazi, and others in stressful situations.¹⁹ Belts were used for holding items to keep from losing them²⁰ as well as holding everything together²¹.

Most particularly the belt is where the sword (of the Spirit²²) is strapped. It was a part of our dress²³ so that we could always be prepared to deliver the truth.²⁴ It was a symbol of our discipleship, as well.²⁵

It was during a terrible storm that I found how effective that belt was. There was a power in it that was greater than the strength of the material or the knots that I tied it with. I had been traveling in the desert when I was suddenly struck by a wild and raging wind. It felt like a wild animal or perhaps the Evil One clawing at me without mercy as though trying to take my clothes away from me. All I could do was cinch myself up as tightly as I could and pray. When at last it was over, I emerged intact and safe²⁶ from the meager shelter I had found.

As I began my journey home, however, I came upon a trail of clothes and equipment that had been strewn as if by an army in panic.²⁷ I felt as though I was looking at the end result of a loss of someone’s faith. But thankfully mine was still intact. I tightened my belt and began to search for other victims of the storm.

MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE

My experience with the Great Teacher had given me a thirst for knowledge of the sacred writings. He had revealed so much to us and based His own existence and appearance in terms of these words.²⁸ But there was a need to communicate it to others on a personal level, and I involved myself in a daily effort to inspire others with the great story.²⁹ I wanted to be ready to answer³⁰ any questions from those who did not understand. I knew that the Spirit would speak through me,³¹ but I also knew the importance of understanding it as much as I could. And so I prepared for the moments when I could help the Master’s cause.

Many others had written to help spread the message of the Teacher,³² but I still struggled to find other ways to communicate the great truth. How could I convince people of that the personality of the Great Teacher should be worshipped? How could I inspire them with His great good? I realized that everyone needed to work at encouraging others.³³ I worked toward imprinting the message on my own heart so that at any time I would be able to speak of it to others.³⁴. There were so many instances in life when I needed the ability to say just the right word at the right time.³⁵

The words and actions of the Master certainly inspired me, and so day after day I wrote my response to them on slips of parchment. I tried to keep these organized, even though not everyone appreciated this effort, and I found myself ridiculed at times. But I kept after my work, knowing that the repetition of handling and reading the fragments further inscribed their meaning into my heart. I refined the thoughts and crafted the words into stories that revealed the glory of the Master.

The Teacher’s blood, sweat, and tears were so moving emotionally that they sometimes induced a similar response in me. My own tears would drop³⁶ on the words, and that created a potion that soaked up their meaning and feeling. I put this fluid in a bottle³⁷ and let it steep and ferment in such a way that caused it to develop a sweet aroma. I eventually realized that a special stirring brought by the Spirit³⁸ provided it increased value³⁹ and healing power.

I wore the bottle around my neck so that it would be ready whenever the opportunity presented itself. I felt the part of the Good Shepherd that went out to find the lost sheep, to apply the potion as a balm for anointment, and to bind up their broken hearts.⁴⁰ But I knew that it was not the beauty of my words but the beauty of the goodness of the Creator⁴¹ that was so powerful.

One day after our group had assembled at the house for worship, I noticed that one of our numbers had made no effort to leave. I saw that he looked troubled, and I sat down beside him and asked him to talk about it.

I am so weak spiritually and came to be healed.³⁸ But the time of worship is over, and nothing has happened, he said. Can you help me?

We talked about the wonder of the Way, and he seemed to understand well enough. But still he was not satisfied. I suspected that he was dealing with internal injuries that needed desperately to be healed. Perhaps he had lost someone he loved very much or had not felt properly embraced by a congregation, but in some way he had dealt with the Evil One and needed to connect with the glory of the good and let it resonate within his soul.

I took the bottle from its sling from around my neck. It could be that the message it contained would be a balm for this man’s injuries and provide some measure of healing. I took a small sponge and wet his lips⁴² with the contents. Then I let him drink from the bottle. He seemed startled at the taste, but then he slowly became energized as the liquid made its way inside him.⁴³ His face went through a full spectrum of emotional responses as his breath quickened and his eyes sparkled. Then he quieted down, and an expression of peace filled him.

After a time he spoke, It was as if I felt in my heart the full impact of the life and meaning of the Great Teacher as it flowed out through every heroic and inspirational theme that I have ever heard. It was like a vision of grandeur, all the vistas of the earth transferred to my soul! I thank you for this glimpse of the Way I need to travel to get back to the embrace of the Master.

He jumped up⁴⁴ and left me in joyful spirits, and I sat down to consider the impact of this encounter. When I thought to look closely at the bottle, I could see that it was still full,⁴⁵ awaiting the next occasion when it might be useful. And I knew again that it was not my words but the power of the Master that provided the healing. After all, I was only an extension of His hand.⁴⁶

THE RUNNER

I met the old shepherd among the fields that surrounded the town of David. He was an interesting character who told me that he had been one of those present when the host of angels announced the birth of the Christ. As we sat there on rocks and watched the sheep, he described in vivid detail the events of that amazing day and some of the thoughts and feelings that were a part of it.

"When I began shepherding, I had to run a lot to try to keep the sheep together so that I could protect them. Later, of course, as I learned how to be a true shepherd, they got to know me and would follow me for the most part. But I loved to run, and there was a certain joy to it that I have kept with me even though I can’t really run anymore.

"I was pretty young when the great glory came upon us. It was a routine night until the sky lit up as bright as day.⁴⁷ We were all terrified at first, but an angel appeared and told of the birth of the Christ, who had come to save the world. He told us that we would find Him in a manger of all things. While we were absorbing this news, the sky filled with angels, and the sky was even more radiant with their glory. The air was just as filled with their praise of the almighty God and a promise of peace for mankind.

"When they were gone, we decided to go see what it was all about, somehow having faith that the angels’ presence would protect our sheep. Most of the men moved out at a leisurely pace, but naturally I took off and ran as fast as I could. It was a fairly long way, but I was so full of the spirit of this event that I seemed to just keep going faster and faster. It was almost as though I was flying,⁴⁸ and I realized that I had no control over what I was doing anymore. Another power had come over me.

"I was the first one into town, but eventually we all met the young parents and saw the infant in the manger. It seemed so small compared to the cosmic display that we had seen earlier. But we understood that we were on the brink of a new kingdom.

"We realized that we needed to spread the Word, so we each went to our homes to tell our families of the news. I ran to many other houses to tell everyone I could. And the people we told were amazed at the news and shared in the joy that we announced so breathlessly.⁴⁹

"Eventually we all returned to the sheep that were our responsibility. Even with the marvelous events of the night, we were concerned about our flocks and were eager to get back to them. I ran with all the speed of before and was conscious of an endurance that made me think of the story of Elijah running ahead of Ahab’s chariot⁵⁰ and again when he traveled without food for forty days and nights.⁵¹ Again I was first, going in the strength of God’s glory, and I was quick to see that the flocks were still there. I also saw a remnant of the original angels’ glow that revealed their protective presence in keeping the power of darkness away.

When the other shepherds returned, the infant Savior was all that we talked about for that night and many others.

It was quite a story. I could feel with him the power of that night as he shared his recollection with me. After forty years his eyes still glowed with the excitement of it, reflecting the glory that he had seen so long ago. Though his feet could no longer enable him to run like the wind, they were from that moment of glory fitted⁵² to carry the message of the gospel. I looked at his simple, worn sandals and wondered about where they had been. For when the shepherd met that child again as the Great Teacher, he, too, became a shepherd of souls.

THE HELMET OF SALVATION

Whenever I saw a Roman soldier, I considered all of the armor that they wore. I especially considered their helmets, as I realized that our heads were one of the most vulnerable parts of our bodies. I was glad I didn’t have to wear something like that, as it would be hot, heavy, and cumbersome. But I felt that