Riven - Jerry B. Jenkins [203]
Thomas started when he thought he heard a sniffle and then another. No way. Not these men. Not aloud, in view of each other! Brady himself seemed to grow emotional, his voice cracking. When he stopped, unable to continue, Thomas rose and picked up where Brady left off.
“If any of you wants to be My follower, you must turn from your selfish ways, take up your cross, and follow Me. If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for My sake, you will save it. And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul? Is anything worth more than your soul? For the Son of Man will come with His angels in the glory of His Father and will judge all people according to their deeds.
“I tell you the truth, unless you turn from your sins and become like little children, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven. So anyone who becomes as humble as this little child is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.
“‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ The entire law and all the demands of the prophets are based on these two commandments.”
When Thomas fell silent, the noises came from the surrounding cells once more, and Brady took over again. They traded off, continuing for hours, interrupted only by a count, a couple of showers, and finally by dinner. Thomas told Brady he had to get home to Grace but that Brady should continue for as long as he could.
“This is exhausting,” Brady whispered. “Memorizing is one thing, but reciting for an audience really takes it out of you.”
“I suggest you just announce when you’re finished for the day and tell them when you will start again tomorrow. Who knows how long they will be willing to listen?”
“Let’s try something,” Brady said. “Let’s have our next meeting here and see if they’ll listen in while you teach me and we pray.”
“Now you’re really pressing your luck.”
Brady chuckled. “My mentor would scold me for calling this luck.”
Adamsville
Grace wept when Thomas told her of the phenomenon. She insisted he get the recorder and enlisted his help on a duet. When it seemed she didn’t have the breath for a phrase, he carried the melody. The next day he would deliver one new song to Brady Darby, and if the cellblock was still cooperating, maybe they’d hear it too.
The love of God is greater far
Than tongue or pen can ever tell,
It goes beyond the highest star
And reaches to the lowest hell;
The guilty pair, bowed down with care,
God gave His Son to win:
His erring child He reconciled
And pardoned from his sin.
Could we with ink the ocean fill
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill
And every man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry,
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.
Death Row
Brady finished with a brief passage from Luke.
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, for he has anointed Me to bring Good News to the poor. He has sent Me to proclaim that captives will be released, that the blind will see, that the oppressed will be set free, and that the time of the Lord’s favor has come.”
When he stopped, the light clanging began again, and Brady noticed that no TVs or radios were on. “I’ll begin after breakfast tomorrow morning. Good night, all.”
“Good night, Brady.”
“’Night, bro.”
“See you then.”
Here and there conversations began, but in normal tones of voice. A few TVs came on as Brady stretched out on his cot. He found himself overcome with emotion, little surprise after what he considered a daylong privilege. How long would it last? And wouldn’t the press have a field day with this?
Brady turned toward the wall and shut