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The Seventh Day Journal
May, 2003
Dear Friends of The Seventh Day:
A friend suggested that you might enjoy joining us in pursuit of Sabbath places and stories
as we develop Part 4 of The Seventh Day series. So below are some scribblings from my travel
journal, of our most recent trip, with Jim Wood (our writer), Jan Wood, and myself.
This European journey took us through 10 countries (not including the edge of Monaco, Holland,
Belgium France, Spain, Portugal, Italy, Austria, Czech Republic, Slovakia and Germany), and
almost 9,000 km's, scouting locations for stories we'll be telling in Part 4. God provided
wonderful sunny, warm weather, and directed our steps.
Coimbra, in Portugal, was a fascinating place - an old town where centuries ago Jews were persecuted
and eventually kicked out by the Portuguese Inquisition. Some kind of center or plaza remained
there, a reminder of what Jewish Sabbath keepers endured during the Reformation era. We hoped
to acquire pictures for their story.
After much searching, and a harrowing drive through unbelievably narrow streets, I mean, so
narrow our mirrors almost scraped the houses on either side, we had a pretty good idea of the
city. The Inquisition hall was unapproachable, due to 1-way streets on all sides (a phenomenon
we noticed repeatedly!) so we got smart, found a parking place (now easy feat) and
walked. What we found was a lovely plaza, surrounded by buildings newly painted a startling
white, remodeled into a very modern Photo Gallery, replete with pictures of nudes.
We wondered what might be left, at least in pictures or behind the scenes, of the old building
and cells. The personnel told us that torture cells still existed under the floor and directed
us to a man at City Hall, who might be able to show us. From there we were sent to another building
at the top of a hill (miles away, it seemed, though probably only about 1); He was not in but
his secretary was in the lobby, accompanied by a wild-haired young man who spoke some English
and translated the reason for our visit. She didn't think her boss could help us, and a subsequent
phone call proved her right. But she did think the ladies at the library across the hall might
have some old pictures of the place, so that was our next stop.
Several very friendly but English-deficient ladies went to work, one after another, searching
the archives. After what seemed like hours, one of them found one book with pictures of
inquisitional tortures, and another about the old spots in the city, but not much about the
site we were interested in.
Next we were directed to the city architect, who had evidently been in charge of the remodeling.
Back down the long hill we walked along cobbled streets, past all the little shops and parks
we'd seen before, up some windy stairs ( I only had to ask for directions once) and into an
office where the blind receptionist heard me and called for the secretary of the architect,
who happened to be on vacation until next week. Fortunately, a smoky office full of young
architects produced one who spoke good English, and was very happy to help. After explaining
the process required to get permission to use one of their photos, he took me in, and amid the
blue haze, led me to the desk where the history of the remodeling resided - on computer discs.
AHA! Pay dirt at last! We clicked through hundreds of pictures, until it became obvious
that there was very little to be seen underground, except scaffolding firmly planted in ancient
prison cells, holding up the new floor. "Before" pictures showed nothing but
rubble and garbage, and I had to concede defeat. This place would not work for pictures.
The young man took me back over to the plaza to see the two cells still in existence, one used
to display non-objective art (although the peekhole in the ceiling used by guards long ago was
left intact), and the other soon to be opened as a snack bar. Our story will not have
the real Plaza of the Inquisition in it!
One of the most rewarding parts of our trip involved the story of Andreas Fischer, a Sabbatarian
Anabaptist, who traveled extensively with his message. Mikulov, just over the border from
Vienna in the Czech Republic, was part of his territory. It was also the territory, for over
300 years, of the Lords of Lichtenstein, who not only protected the Sabbath keepers, but at
least one of them joined them. Their castle, now a museum, still dominates the town.
Fischer spent much time in Moravia and in what is now eastern Slovakia, in quaint old town by
the name of Luvoce (Loo - voh' - cheh), where we were able to interview a local historian
who knew his story well. Not far away Fischer and his wife were incarcerated in the Castle
of Cicva (Cheech-va), where they both faced death for their heresy. She with a stone tied around
her neck, was thrown in the river. He was hanged from a tower, but the rope broke and he escaped,
to continue his labors. Eventually he met his end at the castle of Krashna Horka, where he was
imprisoned, perhaps tortured, and thrown from a high window. A tour guide took me to the room
where he most likely spent his last days, showed us the dungeon and torture implements used
for prisoners of his type.
We were blessed by the help of a young Slovak SDA, Beny Byrtus, who searched for locations and
translated for us.
Incidentally, it may well have been Fischer and his missionary efforts that prompted Martin
Luther to write his article, "Against the Sabbatarians."
The city of Seville, in Spain, tormented us for hours, hiding our hotel quite well. However,
we triumphed and were even able to find our way (despite those bothersome one-way streets) to
the Cathedral of Seville, where a priest named of Constantino tried to lead his people into
greater truth. For reading the Bible, teaching the Sabbath and related heresies, he was thrown
by the Inquisition into a pit so small he could not move. Here he died. His bones were later
dug up and burned.
In between the specific historical sites we were searching for, our eyes feasted on beautiful
things - gorgeous spring flowers, broad fields of brilliant yellow mustard, lilacs blooming
along the roads and in the hills, red poppies, storks nesting on roofs, chimneys and telephone
poles, cork oaks and olive trees covering the hillsides of southern Portugal and Spain, the
blue Mediterranean lapping the beaches along the coast of Spain, Italy and France, names of
passing towns I've only read about in my Sabbath search - Toulouse, Milan, Carcassone, Albi,
Beziers. I'd have loved to had time to see them all.
In the mountains of northern Italy, our road, in an attempt to stay as straight and even as
possible, carried us through through over 100 tunnels. (I kept record!) In Trento we stopped
to see the Cathedral where the Council of Trent met, and where the Archbishop of Rheggio trounced
the Reformers with this point: If Protestants truly believed in "Sola Scriptura: - the
Bible only - they would not be worshipping on Sunday, the day of tradition, but would worship
on the Biblical Sabbath.
These stories, and more, will be told in Part 4. And even this is such a small tip of
the iceburg!
Wouldn't it be awesome to plan tours to the places where the Sabbath was preserved?
Flying home from Amsterdam, I sat by a young Syrian man (the same age as my son, Joey would
be right now - 24). We talked almost the whole way, and struck up an interesting relationship.
He had some serious misconceptions about Americans, garnered from movies and war propaganda.
But he was treated so nicely at Customs that he had a whole new view of Americans. I hope
to stay in touch with him as he returns to his home in Damascus.
We're in contact with several historians/scholars in Europe who may have additional information
about the stories we're tracing. And that might be the next chapter in the 7th Day journal.
Blessings to you all.
Thank you for your interest, your support, and your prayers.
Pat Arrabito
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