Please refer to Author Notes to learn more about unfamiliar terms or concepts

Previously:
Abraham, one of the favored, helpful brothers, was, what some might say, ‘called on the carpet’. In this case, there was no carpet, only an uncomfortable uneven rolling rocks floor. This becomes the focus of this chapter.

****** 

Here I am, Madeline of the 21st century, sitting in the 16th century, as Brother Samuel, questioning my sanity. What is happening to me and to others?  And now one of the heroes, Abraham, of this bizarre story of our life, is gone.

With no answers or explanation, the more days that pass with no Brother Abraham to give counsel, the wearier the brothers grow. I do my best to let them know I’m here for them, but they don’t know me, nor do they easily trust me.

Deception is a cruel player in the game of life. It masquerades as something it is not. It endears itself to us, and we reciprocate, playing into its cold clutches, aimed at our vulnerable hearts.

Our woundedness confuses, plunging us into the throes of denial. We search for reasons, for an unobtainable logic, a void in which to place the blame.

*******

There is an important break in protocol when we do not assemble for the purpose of receiving our daily tasks. Instead, we are told by Abbot Richard to reassemble in one hour, and to follow the directives of yesterday, in the meantime.

There are whispered murmurs, indicating a raised level of tension and stress, as we depart, attending to our designated areas. Will my question of ‘what is going on?’, ever be answered.

When we reconvene, goose bumps cover my arms, and the hairs on the back of my neck surely stand up. 

In front of us, on guest benches, are the same men I had seen forming a vigilante mob, circling Abraham near Abbot Richard’s office.

What are they doing here? Haven’t we had enough of this ‘rubbing salt into our fresh wounds’? We haven’t even had time to begin to mend, to grieve. Little did I know we were about to receive further slashes, to feel as if we’d been run-through with a double-edged dull sword.

The rigid silence was broken by Brother Richard. “He is an imposter and horrible heretic.” We, of course, know to whom he is referring, and will resistantly and defensively listen to every word.    

Abbot Richard winced, pounding his thigh, as he continued. “We should have known something was askew. Abraham is a Jewish name. He has been expelled from this monastery and will be ex-communicated. The irony is, this is not Abraham’s first time being expelled from a monastery.

“He once was a member of a Russian monastery as a rabbi. For some reason, he was expelled from there. Instead, he and a rogue group of the Coptic religion gathered additional Jews to their cause."  

As Abbot Richard pauses, I take time to mentally file this information. Coptic? Huh? That’s the same name as our strange knitted socks. I’ll have to look the origins up if I ever get back to the 21st century.

The disgusted Abbot continued on with his rant. “Abraham must have tired of that game and came to our door making false claims, he’d been abandoned by his Christian parents and sent to our monastery. 

“We express horror to think he partook of the sacrament of Holy Communion and wasn’t even a member of the Catholic faith.

“There have been a growing number of heresies. That demands increased efforts to defend the Catholic faith. Usually, we do not comment on brothers who choose to leave, but this is our way of fighting heresies. 

“With a reputation like this, our entire monastery holds the risk of becoming ex-communicated. What would we do? No communion nor any sacraments…not even confession? What would be our reason for existing? We might as well disband our whole group.

“Continue to follow the routine of tasks you have begun for the day. I remind you to be diligent in praying your rosary. Your mind should be on that rather than this matter.  

“There should be no more discussion of this affair. It is being addressed and dealt with.”

********

That’s it, Abbot Richard and holy higher ups, just sweep this whole affair under the proverbial carpet, with your straw broom. I guess the Catholic Church doesn’t look at ex-communication as a punishment, per se, whatever that expression means. It’s like giving said heretic ‘time out’. 

Is Abbot Richard intimating we’d all be considered heretics? We, as baptized members of the Roman Catholic Church, would look like we were refusing to acknowledge or accept the teachings of that church.

It occurs to me, there is an irony here. Since Abraham was never a baptized Roman Catholic, it is empty words, to say he is to be excommunicated. He won’t care if he can never receive Holy Communion or other sacraments. 

I’m wondering what corner Abraham is curled up in, and what his next trick will be. I don’t know whether to be angry at him or hurt by his façade, or spend my time remembering the good he did.

***** 

It reminds me of the story we’ve told from time to time about the mean man who was evicted and expelled from his town. He went to live a couple of towns away and wore a mask of kindness, so he would not be recognized.  

Someone from his former town recognized him by the leather boat shoes he traditionally wore. The informer plotted to expose the masked imposter at a concert that night. 

When he rushed up to the microphone to tell the whole town there was an extremely mean, and deceptive person in their midst, the volume of murmuring increased as the curious scanned the crowd. 

At last, they all demanded to know the name of the accused. In response to their demanding to know the identity, the accuser pointed out the man they knew to be one of the kindest citizens in their town. 

They yelled, “We do not believe you; you are mad.”

 The man with the microphone retaliated. “He is a very mean man and has been pretending to be kind by wearing a mask that only looks like a kind façade. 

Mob psychology was displaying itself as he demanded action. “Tear his mask from his face, and you will see I know from whence I speak. Under that mask lives a mean, mean man.”

Five individuals stormed toward the person of interest, dragging him to the grandstand, in full sight of those gathered.  Though he offered no resistance, he was treated with the rough restraint due a criminal.

There were great gasps from men, women, and even children when the mask was ripped from his face.