The Wings of Morning (37 page)

Pastor Stoltzfus got to his feet and prayed for several minutes. Then he sat down and before anyone else could say a word Pastor Miller pointed at Jude with his finger. “You told us once you would never use a plane in war. That you would never bear arms. Was this not a lie?”

“Gently, gently,” said Bishop Zook in a reproving tone. “Remember he is only this day out of the hospital.”

But Pastor Miller appeared not to have heard the bishop. “My Samuel didn’t feel he had to enlist to get out of that army camp. And his trust in God was rewarded for he was released only hours after you made a decision that flew in the face of everything you said you believed,
ja
, and in the face of the Lord Jesus Christ and the Amish people. Think if you have waited, think if you had relied on Him who alone can move heaven and earth. You would not have had to put on a uniform. Or go into combat. Or kill others.”

“He did not kill others,” Mr. Whetsone spoke up softly. There was iron underneath his words.

Pastor Miller ignored him and raced on. “All of our boys were released. God did not overlook one of them. They returned to Paradise and their church. You were meant to return with them. Why did you not wait on God, Jude Whetstone?”

Jude paused before speaking, then said, “Certainly I prayed before I did what I did, Pastor Miller. You can believe that.”

“
Ja
? And what kind of prayer was it? The other boys pray and they come home and live in peace. You pray and leave us to make war thousands of miles away. What kind of prayer leads you to do this?”

“I felt…I must do it.”

“Why?”

“Lives were at stake—souls were at stake.”

“So you pick up a gun and bombs and suddenly you have saved these souls? Our Lord dies on the cross, but you wield a gun and bring salvation?”

Bishop Zook raised a large hand. “Excuse me. I have some thoughts on this. Jude, tell me, tell us—did the army force you to fly? Is that what happened?”

Jude met the bishop’s gaze. “I can’t answer that.”

“Why? Why can you not answer?”

“I’m sorry, Bishop Zook.”

“Then I will ask one of your friends who was there.” The bishop looked up and gestured to Samuel Miller who he had spotted through a window. The young man hesitated, looking at his father, and finally entered the house and came to the table.

“Hello, Sam,” smiled Jude, getting up and extending his hand.

Sam gave Jude a small smile and shook his hand. “Welcome back. I’m glad you’re safe and well.”

“For months some thoughts have been turning over and over in my head, Samuel,” the bishop spoke up. “I wonder if you cannot help me clear up some matters concerning Jude?”

Sam stood stiffly as all their eyes fell upon him. “Of course. If I can help.”

“It is a simple question. At the camp where you were all detained was Jude approached by the army and ordered to enlist? Was your release based on whether or not he complied with the army’s demand?”

Sam stumbled. “I—I—”

“Come, my son,” his father, Pastor Miller, said. “You have nothing to fear. Before God and before us, speak the truth. Was Jude ordered to fly a warplane as a condition of your release and the release of the others?”

Sam stared down at his father. “No. Jude was not ordered to join the army. It was what he wanted to do.”

“Are you certain?” pressed Bishop Zook. “Speak freely.”

“I am certain. Our release had nothing to do with Jude. He joined the army and fought in the war because it was what he desired. That is what he told me.”

“Enough.” Pastor Miller glared at the men seated at the table and at Jude. “It is not my son who is on trial here. We have heard all we need to hear. It is just as we thought all along.”

“Pastor Miller, if I may,” intervened Pastor Stoltzfus. “Jude, this need not be drawn-out, huh? You did what you did for reasons I don’t think any of us will ever understand. So, all right, but here is what I want to know—do you see what you have done as a sin? Is this something you wish you had never said yes to, this soldier thing? Do you repent of your actions in joining the United States military? Tell us.”

Jude drew a circle in some spilled sugar near his hand. “I wish I had not had to do what I did. I wish there had never been a war. If I’d had the choice, I would have returned to Paradise and never put on a uniform.”

“Of course you had the choice!” snapped Pastor Miller. “Just like the others did!”

“Shh,” admonished Bishop Zook, putting a finger to his lips.

“But joining the army felt like the right choice before God,” Jude said. He took a breath, then added, “If I had to do it again I would not change a thing.”

The room was silent at Jude’s words. There would be no repentance.

“Before God!” Pastor Miller finally snarled, slapping his hand loudly on the table.

Jude looked at him. “You must think I like war. You must think I wanted to be an ace. That I desired the glory of it all. Nothing is further from the truth. I did not want attention and I did not ask for acclaim. But I wasn’t wrong to follow the course of action I did.”

“Not wrong?” repeated Pastor King. “War is not wrong? You, an Amish boy, taking up arms and violence, this is not wrong? Conflict between nations—this is a great thing?”

Jude shook his head. “War, combat, burning aircraft—no, it is not right. I felt led to go into something bad, very bad, in order to do something good. That is as simply as I can put it.”

“Do you mean this?” demanded Pastor King. “You felt you should step into the carnage of human warfare and act as some sort of redeemer?”

“I only wished to obey God and follow in the footsteps of Jesus, as the Scripture commands us. He went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil. So I thought I could bring some light, some holiness, into what was bleak and godless and destructive—”

“You dare.” Pastor Miller had risen to his feet, face dark, his hat in his hand. “You dare to call upon Jesus as an example to justify your wicked deeds? He comes in peace and dies for us. You come clothed in war that kills. You dare!” He pushed his hat firmly on his head and looked at Bishop Zook. “You know what my feelings are about this. I’m glad young Jude has survived to return to his father. But I will not tolerate his presence in our church until he is made pure. The
Meidung
must be reinstated until he confesses and repents. I have nothing more to say. Nor do I wish to be here when the other families come to welcome him back. Good day.”

He didn’t slam the door as he left, but closed it with a firmness that continued to express his anger. Sam left with him. Lyyndaya sat in a stupor, upset by Pastor Miller’s obvious dislike of Jude, but also turning Jude’s answers over in her head. Could she agree with him? If he didn’t repent and was not permitted to live freely among them again, would she be willing to leave her family and her people to go with him wherever the Lord led? Did she believe that God was at work in Jude’s life despite his having gone to war? Did she honestly think he was a good Christian man?

“So, so, so,” murmured Bishop Zook. “We discussed this possibility before we came to the Whetstones’, hm? Did we not say that if Jude did not immediately repent we would wait fourteen days and ask him again? We came to this decision due to the fact he is only recently returned from the grimness of war and a dreadful disease. We wanted to give him more time to think matters over.” He looked at the two remaining pastors. “Shall we abide by that decision?”

Pastor Stoltzfus grunted. Pastor King ran his fingers over his beard and finally nodded.

“Recall that this decision to allow Jude the space of fourteen days to repent was made after much prayer.” The bishop stood up. “Is this all right with you, young man? We do not welcome one of our people back one minute only to shun them the next. You must have time.”

“Thank you,” responded Jude.

“But also you must bear in mind who we are, the kind of people you have been part of for ten years. You have put us in a difficult position. We love you. We are grateful for the kind of man you were in the war. Yet still it was a war, hm? You fought in it. You were a soldier. We Amish—we do not fight in wars. We do not engage in violence. We do not put on the uniform.”

“I know.”

He placed a hand on Jude’s shoulder. “It does not sound to me as if you are going to change your mind. We shall certainly not change ours. But—who knows? Perhaps you will view things differently in a few days.”

He walked toward the window that overlooked the drive. “I will remind Pastor Miller of this fourteen day period we agreed upon. Now, I see our first families are arriving. You will stay, Pastor Stoltzfus? Pastor King?”

“We are pastors to all the people,” replied Pastor King.

Lyyndaya’s father poured more coffee into Bishop Zook’s cup. “I’m not satisfied with Samuel’s response or Jude’s silence. Someone in the army knows the truth of the matter. With your permission, I will write an old friend who has been transferred to the War Department in Washington. His mother is Amish and lives at Bird-in-Hand so even though Nicholas has become English he knows us and understands us.”

Bishop Zook nodded and walked back to the table to take up his cup of coffee. “Why not? Truth is truth regardless of where it comes from, hm?”

Mr. Kurtz looked at Jude. “I’m sorry to interfere. But there is something you are not telling us that we need to know. That
I
need to know.”

Jude shrugged. “Do what you think you must.”

“It is not my wish to violate what you believe you must keep within, but—”

“Mr. Kurtz, I would rather you did nothing. Yet if you feel compelled to act, that this is God’s will for you, then you should go ahead,
nicht wahr?
”

Mr. Kurtz stared at Jude and nodded, his face set. “I do feel it is God’s will, yes.”

The first person through the door was Lyyndaya’s mother, surprising Jude by throwing her arms around him and kissing him on the cheek, her eyes glimmering with tears.

“So God blesses you and blesses us,” she said. “Welcome home, oh, thank God, look at you, how strong you look.”

“I have had good nursing,” Jude replied, hugging Mrs. Kurtz back.

“Oh, yes,” laughed Lyyndaya, “I did everything.”

Then the kitchen filled. Daniel and Harley Kurtz were asking if he had come by aeroplane and where it might be parked, Benjamin Kauffman was slapping him on the shoulder, Peter King and Luke Kurtz wanted to know if he had left the army and whether he would still fly whether he was in the army or not. Emma Zook came up to him towing Samuel Miller by the hand.

“Jude, it is so very good to see you again,” she gushed.

“Thank you, Emma. I’m glad you’re looking so well after your illness.”

“That was months ago. I’m as strong as a Percheron. Just not so big, I hope.”

“You look like the same perfect Emma.”

“Do I? Why, thank you.” She tugged Sam forward and hugged his arm briefly. “Did Lyyndaya tell you we’re engaged?”

Jude nodded. “Yes, she did mention that when we were back in Philadelphia. Great news. I’m happy for both of you.”

“Of course we can’t get married until November,” pouted Emma. “That’s the Amish way, you know.”

“A long wait.”

“But worth the wait.” Emma hugged Sam’s arm again.

The families had brought food, and the welcome turned into a meal that lasted several hours. Afterwards, once everything had been cleaned up and the buggies were rattling down the lane toward the road, Mr. Kurtz leaving with the rest of his family, Lyyndaya took Jude’s hand in hers.

“How was that?” she asked him.

He smiled. “It was fine, Lyyndy. Thank goodness everyone was friendly and not barking at me like Pastor Miller.”

“They all love you.”

“It certainly felt that way. Well, perhaps not so much from Sam Miller.”

“The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. Are you going to let his words stand?”

“Yes.”

“Even with me?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe him. I don’t believe Sam. I think the bishop has a hold of something.”

They were looking out the window at the line of buggies moving along slowly in the evening winter light.