A Story by Matthew Harper
Chapter 1
The crowd was so gullible.
Lanky and tall, the thief had a mop of thin black hair that framed a forgettable face and a scruffy beard. His tunic was rough, his sandals were well-worn, and his satchel was partially filled with today’s earnings.
His next target was an old, withered man with a bulging moneybag hanging at his side. This would be even easier than the last one. He could see the coins glinting out of the bag’s top, just begging to be transferred to a better owner. What a payday.
Cold sweat ran down his back. How could he get chills while the sun was beating down on him? Had the Roman soldiers sitting under that olive tree noticed him? No, they were watching the preacher, like everyone else in the valley. It couldn’t be the religious leaders standing nearby either. They would condemn him to Sheol if they even had a hint of what he was doing, but they were too busy talking among themselves.
Why was he hesitating?
“The kingdom of heaven is like a man who had two sons.”
Another story from the preacher. First a lost sheep, then a lost coin. At least the tales were keeping the listeners distracted.
“The younger son said, ‘Father, give me the share of property that is coming to me.’ And he divided his property between them. Not many days later, the younger son gathered all he had and took a journey into a far country, and there he squandered his property in reckless living.”
The thief was right next to the rock the old man was sitting on. Perfect opportunity. He didn’t even have to distract him - his eyes were fixed on the preacher.
“And when he had spent everything, a severe famine arose in that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed pigs. And he was longing to be fed with the pods that the pigs ate, and no one gave him anything.”
What a loser.
“But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father's hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”’ And he arose and came to his father.”
The thief chuckled. He knew how this story would end. He could feel the coins in his fingers.
“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’” But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’”
The thief’s hand was frozen in the old man’s money bag. Time seemed to stop. That wasn’t how the story was supposed to go.
His eyes darted to the ground, then to the preacher. The preacher was looking at him.
I’m not supposed to be here.
The thief jerked his coinless hand from the bag and disappeared into the crowd.
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