A Voice in the Wind
Francine Rivers
Praise for Francine Rivers
And the Shofar Blew
“Meticulously plotted, Francine Rivers’s new masterpiece, And the Shofar Blew, brims with unforgettable characters.”
—Romantic Times
The Atonement Child
“The Atonement Child is well written, presenting the truth about abortion in a compassionate, nonjudgmental way.”
—The Post-Abortion Review
The Last Sin Eater
“Rivers skillfully combines character and mood to create a haunting story that effectively depicts the horror of sin and the beauty of forgiveness.”
—CBA Marketplace
Leota’s Garden
“Francine Rivers is a master gardener, deftly pruning brush and deadwood, using poignant humor and bittersweet revelation to open hearts to reconciliation.”
—Romantic Times
Lineage of Grace series
“Readers will find this book worth reading more than once. . . . Masterfully written.”
—Romantic Times
“Rivers’s writing is excellent.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Rivers is such an excellent author. Her people are vibrantly alive, with all the strengths and weaknesses that make them so human.”
—Historical Novels Review
Mark of the Lion series
“Francine Rivers puts readers right into the history of the moment. . . .”
—Romantic Times
Redeeming Love
“. . . a splendid piece of work.”
—Library Journal
“Rivers shines in her ability to weave together spiritual themes and sexual tension in a well-told story, a talent that has propelled her into the spotlight as one of the most popular novelists in the genre of Christian fiction. This is one of her best.”
—Amazon.com
“The truth that ran through that book [Redeeming Love] absolutely brought me to my knees. I was a changed person after reading that book.”
—Amy Grant, singer/songwriter, in an interview with Ted Koppel, ABC Nightly News
“. . . a thought-provoking novel that you will not easily forget.”
—Romantic Times
Sons of Encouragement series
“. . . packs a powerful punch through characters that resonate in the soul. Fast-paced and seamless, this is a magnificent tale of courage, faithfulness, woe, and great joy.”
—Romantic Times
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A Voice in the Wind
Copyright © 1993, 2002 by Francine Rivers. All rights reserved.
Discussion Guide section written by Peggy Lynch.
Cover illustration copyright © 2008 by Robert Papp. All rights reserved.
Author photo copyright © 1999 by John Teague. All rights reserved.
Map copyright © 1993 by Hugh Claycombe. All rights reserved.
Cover designed by Ron Kaufmann
Interior designed by Zandrah Maguigad
Scripture used in Epilogue is taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Scripture used in Discussion Guide is taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.,
Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Rivers, Francine, date.
A voice in the wind / Francine Rivers.
p. cm — (The Mark of the lion)
ISBN 978-0-8423-7750-8
1. Church history—Primitive and early church, ca. 30-600—Fiction.
2. Women slaves—Rome—Fiction. I. Title. II. Series: Rivers, Francine, date
Mark of the lion.
PS3568.I83165V65 1993
813'.54—dc20 93-16608
This book is dedicated with love to my mother,
Frieda King, who is a true example of a humble servant.
Table of Contents
Foreword
Preface
Acknowledgments
Part I: Jerusalem
Chapter 1
Part II: Germania
Chapter 2
Part III: Rome
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Part IV: Ephesus
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Epilogue
Glossary of Terms
Discussion Guide
Foreword
In 1992, Tyndale House made a conscious decision to begin publishing excellent fiction that would help us fulfill our corporate purpose—to “minister to the spiritual needs of people, primarily through literature consistent with biblical principles.” Before that time, Tyndale House had been known for many years as a publisher of Bibles and of nonfiction books by well-known authors like Tim LaHaye and James Dobson. We had dabbled in fiction before “Christian fiction” became popular, but it was not a major part of our publishing plan.
We began to recognize, however, that we could carry out our purpose very effectively through fiction, since fiction speaks to the heart rather than to the head.
Fiction is entertaining. Well-written fiction is gripping. As readers, we’ll stay up until 2:00 a.m. to finish a good novel. But Tyndale has a greater goal than simply entertaining our readers. We want to help our readers grow!
We recognize that authors have something of a bully pulpit for communicating their worldview and values to their readers. But with that opportunity comes a danger. Just what worldview and values is an author communicating? At best, most contemporary novelists present a squishy worldview. At worst, they sow negative values and unhealthy attitudes in the hearts of their readers. We wanted to set a whole new standard for fiction.
So we began looking for novelists who had a heart message that would help our readers grow. And we met Francine Rivers.
Francine had been extremely successful as a writer of romance novels for the general market early in her career. But when she became a Christian, she wanted to use her talents to communicate faith values to her readers. One of her early projects was the Mark of the Lion trilogy.
When I read the manuscript for the first book in the series, A Voice in the Wind, I was blown away by the power of the story. I was transported back to the first century—to Jerusalem, Germania, Rome, and Ephesus. I lived with Hada
ssah as she struggled to live out her faith in the midst of a pagan Roman household. I felt the terror of the gladiator as he faced his foes in the arena. Above all, through their experiences I learned lessons in courage.
We are proud to present this new edition of the Mark of the Lion. I trust it will speak to your heart, as it has to mine and to hundreds of thousands of other readers.
MARK D. TAYLOR
President, Tyndale House Publishers
Preface
When I became a born-again Christian in 1986, I wanted to share my faith with others. However, I didn’t want to offend anyone and risk “losing” old friends and family members who didn’t share my belief in Jesus as Lord and Savior. I found myself hesitating and keeping silent. Ashamed of my cowardice and frustrated by it, I went on a quest, seeking the faith of a martyr. A Voice in the Wind was the result.
While writing Hadassah’s story, I learned that courage is not something we can manufacture by our own efforts. But when we surrender wholeheartedly to God, He gives us the courage to face whatever comes. He gives us the words to speak when we are called to stand and voice our faith.
I still consider myself a struggling Christian, fraught with faults and failures, but Jesus has given me the tool of writing to use in seeking answers from Him. Each of my characters plays out a different point of view as I search for God’s perspective, and every day I find something in Scripture that speaks to me. God is patient with me, and through the study of His Word, I am learning what He wants to teach me. When I hear from a reader who is touched by one of my stories, it is God alone who is to be praised. All good things come from the Father above, and He can use anything to reach and teach His children—even a work of fiction.
My main desire when I started writing Christian fiction was to find answers to personal questions, and to share those answers in story form with others. Now, I want so much more. I yearn for the Lord to use my stories in making people thirst for His Word, the Bible. I hope that reading Hadassah’s story will make you hunger for the real Word, Jesus Christ, the Bread of Life. I pray that you will finish my book and pick up the Bible with a new excitement and anticipation of a real encounter with the Lord Himself. May you search Scripture for the sheer joy of being in God’s presence.
Beloved, surrender wholeheartedly to Jesus Christ, who loves you. As you drink from the deep well of Scripture, the Lord will refresh and cleanse you, mold you and re-create you through His Living Word. For the Bible is the very breath of God, giving life eternal to those who seek Him.
Francine Rivers, 2002
Acknowledgments
There are many people I want to thank who have helped me in my writing career: My husband, Rick; my children, Trevor, Shannon, and Travis; my mom, Frieda King; and my second set of parents, Bill and Edith Rivers; my brother and sister-in-law, Everett and Evelyn King; Aunt Margaret Freed—all of you have loved me unconditionally and encouraged me in all I do. I am grateful also to have Jane Jordan Browne as my agent. Without her persistence and expertise, this book might never have found a home, and I might have given up writing long ago.
I offer special thanks to Rick Hahn, pastor of Sebastopol Christian Church, who opened my eyes and ears to the beauty of God’s Word; and to members of my church family who have shown me that God truly transforms lives daily. So many of you have encouraged me in ways you will never even guess, and I rejoice that I have so many brothers and sisters.
A note to Jenny and Scott—what would I do without you two? You are very precious to me. May the Lord bless you both always with health and happiness and, of course, children.
Most of all, I want to thank the Lord for all he has done in my life. I pray that he will bless this work and accept it as my humble offering and use it for his good purpose in the lives of others.
Francine Rivers
Chapter 1
The city was silently bloating in the hot sun, rotting like the thousands of bodies that lay where they had fallen in street battles. An oppressive, hot wind blew from the southeast, carrying with it the putrefying stench of decay. And outside the city walls, Death itself waited in the persons of Titus, son of Vespasian, and sixty thousand legionnaires who were anxious to gut the city of God.
Even before the Romans crossed the Valley of Thorns and camped on the Mount of Olives, warring factions within Jerusalem’s city walls had prepared the way for her destruction.
Jewish robbers, who now fled like rats before the Roman legions, had recently fallen upon Jerusalem and murdered her prominent citizens, taking over the holy temple. Casting lots for the priesthood, they turned a house of prayer into a marketplace of tyranny.
Fast behind the robbers came rebels and zealots. Directed by rival leaders—John, Simon, and Eleazar—the warring factions raged within the three walls. Swollen with power and pride, they sliced Jerusalem into bloody pieces.
Breaking the Sabbath and the laws of God, Eleazar stormed Antonia Tower and murdered the Roman soldiers within it. Zealots rampaged, murdering thousands more who attempted to bring order back to a maddened city. Unlawful tribunals were set up and the laws of man and God mocked as hundreds of innocent men and women were murdered. Houses full of corn were burned in the chaos. Famine soon followed.
In their despair, righteous Jews prayed fervently for Rome to come against the great city. For these Jews believed that then, and only then, would the factions within Jerusalem unite in one cause: freedom against Rome.
Rome did come and, their hated ensigns held high, their war cry rang across all of Judea. They took Gadara, Jotapata, Beersheba, Jericho, Caesarea. The mighty legions marched in the very footsteps of devout pilgrims who came from every corner of the Jewish nation to worship and celebrate the high holy days of the Feast of the Unleavened Bread—the Passover. Innocent tens of thousands poured into the city and found themselves in the midst of civil war. Zealots closed the gates, trapping them inside. Rome came on until the sound of destruction echoed across the Valley of Kidron against the walls of Jerusalem itself. Titus laid siege to the ancient, holy city, determined to end Jewish rebellion once and forever.
Josephus, the Jewish general of fallen Jotapata who had been taken captive by the Romans, wept and cried out from atop the first wall defeated by the legionnaires. With Titus’ permission, he pleaded with his people to repent, warning them that God wasagainst them, that the prophecies of destruction were about to be fulfilled. Those few who listened to him and managed to evade the zealots in their escape reached the greedy Syrians—who dissected them for the gold pieces they had supposedly swallowed before deserting the city. Those who didn’t heed Josephus suffered the full fury of the Roman war machine. Having cut down every tree within miles, Titus built siege engines that hurled countless javelins, stones, and even captives into the city.
From the Upper Market Place to the lower Acra and the Valley of Cheesemongers between, the city writhed in revolt.
Inside the great temple of God, the rebel leader John melted down the sacred golden vessels for himself. The righteous wept for Jerusalem, the bride of kings, the mother of prophets, the home of the shepherd king David. Torn asunder by her own people, she lay gutted and helpless, awaiting her death blow from hated Gentile foreigners.
Anarchy destroyed Zion, and Rome stood ready to destroy anarchy . . . anytime . . . anywhere.
Hadassah held her mother, tears blurring her eyes as she stroked the black hair back from her mother’s gaunt, pale face. Her mother had been beautiful once. Hadassah remembered watching her take her hair down until it lay, glistening in thick waves, against her back. Her crowning glory, Papa called it. Now, it was dull and coarse, and her once-ruddy cheeks were white and sunken. Her stomach was swollen with malnutrition, the bones of her legs and arms clearly outlined beneath a gray overdress.
Lifting her mother’s hand, Hadassah kissed it tenderly. It was like a bony claw, limp and cool. “Mama?” No response. Hadassah looked across the room at her younger sister, Leah, lying on a dirty pallet in the c
orner. Thankfully, she was asleep, the agony of slow starvation briefly forgotten.
Hadassah stroked her mother’s hair again. Silence lay upon her like a hot shroud; the pain in her empty belly was almost beyond endurance. Only yesterday she had wept bitterly when her mother had uttered thanks to God for the meal Mark had been able to scavenge for them: shield leather from a dead Roman soldier.
How long before they all died?
Grieving in the silence, she could still hear her father speaking to her in that firm but gentle voice. “It is not possible for men to avoid fate, even when they see it beforehand.”
Hananiah had spoken these words to her scant weeks ago—though now it seemed like an eternity. He had prayed all that morning, and she had been so afraid. She had known what he was going to do, what he had always done before. He would go out before the unbelievers and preach about the Messiah, Jesus of Nazareth.
“Why must you go out again and speak to those people? You were almost killed the last time.”
“Those people, Hadassah? They’re your kinsmen. I’m a Benjaminite.” She could still feel his gentle touch on her cheek. “We must seize every opportunity we can to speak the truth and proclaim peace. Especially now. There’s so little time for so many.”
She had clung to him then. “Please, don’t go. Father, you know what’ll happen. What’ll we do without you? You can’t bring peace. There is no peace in this place!”
“It is not the world’s peace I speak of, Hadassah, but God’s. You know that.” He had held her close. “Hush, child. Do not weep so.”
She wouldn’t release him. She knew they wouldn’t listen—they didn’t want to hear what he had to tell them. Simon’s men would slash him to pieces before the crowd as an example of what became of those who spoke for peace. It had happened to others.
“I must go.” His hands had been firm, his eyes gentle, as he had tipped her chin. “Whatever happens to me, the Lord is always with you.” He’d kissed her, hugged her, then put her away from him so he could embrace and kiss his other two children. “Mark, you will remain here with your mother and sisters.”
