Christiana Read online

  Pilgrim's Progress Part II:

  Christiana:

  The New Amplified Version

  Adapted from

  John Bunyan's Original Text

  By

  Jim Pappas Jr.

  Copyright 2004

  by Orion's Gate/Jim Pappas

  ISBN: 9781618429551

  Cover illustration: Nathan Greene

  Body illustrations: Frederick Barnard and others

  Orion’s Gate

  c/o P.O. Box 430

  Dobbins, [95935] California

  530 692-1124

  www.orionsgate.org

  Adapted by James Pappas Jr.

  Adaptation copyright 2004 Orion's Gate/Jim Pappas

  Printed in the United States of America

  All rights reserved

  CONTENTS

  PREFACE

  INTRODUCTION

  CHAPTER I The Author’s Dream

  CHAPTER II Christiana’s Repentance

  CHAPTER III The Call

  CHAPTER IV Oppositions

  CHAPTER V The Journey Begins

  CHAPTER VI The Slough of Despond

  CHAPTER VII The Wicket Gate

  CHAPTER VIII The Mysterious Fruit

  CHAPTER IX Rescued

  CHAPTER X House of The Interpreter

  CHAPTER XI The Journey Resumes

  CHAPTER XII Giant Maul And His Kittens

  CHAPTER XIII The House Beautiful

  CHAPTER XIV Doctor Skill

  CHAPTER XV The Valley of Humility

  CHAPTER XVI The Valley of The Shadow of Death

  CHAPTER XVII Old Honest

  CHAPTER XVIII Mr. Fearing

  CHAPTER XIX Self-will

  CHAPTER XX At The Home of Gaius

  CHAPTER XXI Giant Slay-good

  CHAPTER XXII Mr. Feeble-mind

  CHAPTER XXIII Vanity Faire

  CHAPTER XXIV The Delectable Mountains

  CHAPTER XXV Giant Despair

  CHAPTER XXVI The Shepherds

  CHAPTER XXVII Mr. Valiant-for-truth

  CHAPTER XXVIII The Enchanted Ground

  CHAPTER XXIX Mr. Stand-fast

  CHAPTER XXX The Land of Beulah

  CHAPTER XXXI The Homecoming

  Christiana Enters The River of Death

  SPECIAL THANKS TO

  Mr. and Mrs. Jim Pappas Sr.

  Linda Pappas for making this book possible

  Christiana's Dream

  PREFACE

  Once again, I have undertaken to bring one of John Bunyan's masterpieces to the modern reader in a style that retains some of the oulde English flavor and yet is simple of understanding. All biblical quotations are taken from the King James Version which was newly published in Bunyan's time. Here and there I have quoted or nearly quoted authors who have worded the desired thoughts more beautifully than I could. In these instances I have enclosed their words in quotation marks.

  Like Part I, this work is totally unabridged except for the opening poetic defense of the work and perhaps a lengthy poem here or there. However, this is an amplification rather than a translation. Therefore, where I felt I could clarify Mr. Bunyan's thoughts or add a bit of spice I have taken that liberty.

  I have undertaken this work with respect and loving reverence and have tried to remain faithful to the intent and content of the original. To any who think I may have amplified a bit over much here and there, my apologies. Should there be any mistakes in interpretation, I trust that in the resurrection Mr. Bunyan and I will be able to work it out.

  With a sincere prayer that this work will help speed thy way to the CITY I deliver this work to your appraisal.

  Jim Pappas Jr.

  Portrait of John Bunyan

  Dedicated to the Christianas of the world. May their children rise up and call them blessed.

  INTRODUCTION

  "Christiana", like "Pilgrim's Progress" is placed in the setting of a dream. And while Christiana and her boys traverse the same narrow path as did Christian, her husband, the experiences, conversations, lessons and characters met along the way are mostly new.

  While "Part I" was a solo journey, "Part II" is a family affair. I do hope that it will be an inspiration to four types of people.

  FIrst to the mothers in Israel who must travel the narrow path alone. May God send you the experiences, the wisdom and the helpers needed to enter the city with all your little flock beside you.

  Second to the men of the priesthood of believers. May you be Great-hearts indeed; first to your own children and second to the fatherless lambs of Israel. Our children need heros. May you rise from your knees to be one.

  Third to the children and youth of the believers. May you be bold to hold up the hands of their parents and quick to obey. Be a Samuel - quick to help, pleasant to be with, easy to love.

  Fourth to the extended families of young mothers. May you be quick to search out young families in need. Be quick to help carry the burdens that otherwise might seem overwhelming.

  I close with the hope that this story may speed all of you in your journey to THE CITY. I believe that our crossing over is not far off.

  Jim Pappas Jr.

  Adaptor

  (b3 Bunyan Sleeping)

  CHAPTER I

  The Author's Dream

  To my gentle readers:

  Some time past I shared with you my amazing dream about Christian the Pilgrim. In that former work, "The New Amplified Pilgrim's Progress," I related in some detail the story of Christian's hazardous journey from the City of Destruction to the Celestial City. If you found that account to be of some interest, then you are sure to enjoy this account of his family's adventures.

  As you may recall, I spoke therein of how his wife and children had been utterly unwilling to accompany him on pilgrimage. Yea, no matter how earnestly he begged them to flee from the soon-coming ruin of the City of Destruction, they would neither hear nor believe. Therefore, as I showed you, was he compelled to set off on pilgrimage alone.

  Now although I have been most eager to learn the fate of Christian's dear wife and little ones, a multitude of pressing duties have kept me away from that pleasant task. However, I recently had occasion to return to the forest that lay within a mile of where I had my former dream. Coming to that place, I once again became very drowsy and laid me down to sleep. And, as I slept, I dreamed once again a dream.

  In my dream I saw an aged man named Mr. Sagacity come striding by at a goodly pace. Seeing that he was no common man and also noting that he was going my way, I hailed him, saying, "Ho, good sir. Do you mind if I join you on your way?"

  The author and Mr. Sagacity

  "Nay, not at all," said he with a twinkle in his eye. "Delighted to have you. Come along."

  Now we had not gone far before we came to the brow of a hill that overlooked a rather ill-kempt town. It was all overhung with black clouds that growled angrily and occasionally licked at the town with tongues of forked lightning.

  "I say, sir," said I, "What tumble-down town is this just before us?"

  "That is the City of Destruction," he replied. "It lies in such a sad state of repair because those who dwell therein are more concerned with todays pleasures than tomorrows realities."

  "Ah, I thought so," said I, "for I once passed near that town and know for a fact that your report is true. Those who dwell therein are indeed idle louts."

  "Aye. I wish I could report some good thing about them and yet remain in the vale of truth, but alas, I fear I cannot. I shudder to think of what will soon befall this place."

  "Well, Mr. Sagacity. Since you seem to be a man who enjoys the hearing and telling of truth, tell me: have you ever heard of a man named Christian? 'Tis said that he fled this town in search of a better city whose Maker and Builder is God."
<
br />   "Heard of him! Oh my, yes! So wondrous was his story that I took it upon myself to verify every detail of it. And I can tell you, lad, that all is true. All his temptations, troubles, wars, captivities, frights and fears are famous throughout this whole countryside. Yea, although called a fool whilst dwelling amongst them - now that he has attained such glorious heights there is talk of making him a saint! And many there be who would gladly join him on the heights of Mount Victory - if they could somehow bypass the steep climb that got him there."

  "And what do they say about him?" I asked. "Do they know much of his present life?"

  "Oh, indeed they do! They have heard all about how he walks in a robe of light; how he wears a chain of gold about his neck; how he has a golden crown on his head all laden with pearls. They know too how, in that place, he fellowships with saints and Shining Ones as commonly as we do with our family and neighbors here."

  "Indeed!" said I. "And is there more?"

  "Oh, aye, much more. 'Tis said that he eats and drinks and walks and talks with the King of that place. Yea, he has a rich and pleasant post at the court."

  "Ah, such a wondrous tale!"

  "Indeed. And there is more to tell. 'Tis said that his Prince, the Lord of that Country, will soon come to these parts in person."

  "Indeed! On what cause?"

  "To exact payment in kind from those who so cruelly mocked and derided Christian in his pilgrimage."

  "Verily? Is He angry enough to come so far to punish their rude behavior?"

  "He is more than angry, friend John. Christian is so firmly fixed in His affections that He regards every insult shown him as if it had been done to Himself."

  "Indeed! And why so?"

  "Why because it was from pure love that he ventured all for His Lord."

  "Ah. Well, I hope I am not about these parts when He comes clad in garments of vengeance! And I am very glad to hear of Christian's many honors. It may be that his great fame might yet inspire some to follow after."

  "Indeed. Yes, indeed."

  "But pray tell, good sir. What do you hear about his wife and children?"

  "Christiana and sons?"

  "Yes, the same. How do the poor hearts fare?"

  "Haven't you heard?"

  "Heard? Why, what is to hear?"

  "Good news, sir! Deliciously good news! She and her wee ones are like to end up nigh as good as the old pilgrim himself!"

  "What!" exclaimed I. "Surely you do not mean . . . !"

  "That is exactly what I mean, lad."

  "Indeed! Off on pilgrimage! And what about her four sons?"

  "Gone, lad. Bag and baggage. Gone! Clean gone!"

  "Amazing. Why, I can scarce believe it."

  "Well, look down there. See that winding street off to our left?"

  "Aye."

  "Do you see that wee tumble-down shack?"

  "The one with the door hanging ajar?"

  "The same."

  "What about it?"

  "That is Christian's house. His wife departed in such a flutter that she took no thought to latch the door or close the shutters."

  "My! I wish I could hear more."

  "Well, we do have some traveling time before us. And I was there to see it all."

  "Why, such good fortune! Please, sir. Do give me an exact account of the entire tale."

  "Well, no doubt you know of her wicked abuse when Christian first fell under his deep convictions."

  "Oh, aye," said I. "I recall how stiffly she steeled her heart against his most loving entreaties; how she did deride and mock him even while he was trying to convince her of her mortal danger. Aye, I know the story well."

  "Well," continued he, rubbing hands together as he warmed to his tale, "when she realized that he was gone over the river and lost to her forever, her mind began to be plagued with second thoughts. Memory called to mind what a good man he had been; his diligence at his trade; his gentle fatherliness towards his four sons; his tender words and sweet caresses towards herself. All these things now rose up in her heart with distinct clarity. Yea, now, all his former "craziness" now seemed no more irritating than a buzzing fly to lovers on a stroll."

  "Ah. So she began to regret her foul treatment of her husband, did she?"

  "Her thoughts began to work in her mind"

  "Oh, you cannot imagine. Why, the guilt upon her back was greater than that which her husband bore. So it was that she, with the same agony as he, began to cry out, 'O, wretched woman that I am! What shall I do to be saved?'"

  "Ah! My heart cannot help but sense the agony of her soul," said I.

  "Good! It shows you to be a man of tender heart."

  "Thank you. But please, do go on."

  CHAPTER II

  Christiana's Repentence

  "Well, one day as I came over the crest of this hill, I chanced to see this poor woman standing in the door of her home. She was clothed with rags and she gazed with pained longing across yonder wide, wide field."

  "Is that not the same field Christian crossed in his flight towards eternity?"

  "Aye. But she, like he, knew not which way she must go. Therefore, as she looked with longing eyes, she wept and cried out, 'Oh my husband! My poor dear husband! How I have treated you in a most vile manner. How great is the woe upon me! For I have driven you away by my evil words and still more evil actions. And all the greater is my sorrow in that I now believe your words. This city is indeed doomed to perish in fire and brimstone! Oh, would to God that I had fled this place at your side. Then would I have had your brave companionship to guide me and our little ones to yonder Celestial City. But now! Oh, alas! Too late! I am lost! Lost! And more than lost! For stained upon my hands, is the blood of my little ones! Those dear brave boys who, but for my wicked example, would have marched gladly on at your side! Oh, wicked, wicked woman! Oh, woe, woe, woe!'"

  "My!" exclaimed I. "Was her repentance so deep as all that?"

  "Oh, indeed," replied Mr. Sagacity. "I was there to hear every word. Moreover, her cries were so loud and unrestrained that it brought her four sons dashing to her side to ask what might be the matter."

  ''Oh, my sons, my sons!" cried she. "We are all undone!"

  ''Oh, my sons, my sons!" cried she. "We are all undone!"

  "Oh, mother fair," sighed her eldest with deep solicitude. "Do you weep again?"

  ''Yes, dear Matthew, again. And that more bitterly than before!"

  "But Mother, Father has been dead for a long while now. Why does not our grief grow dim with time, as it does with others who have lost a loved one?"

  "Because in their grief there lies no guilt. But I have quite sinned him away. And worse than that; I have kept you boys from marching on with him! I painted him the madman in your eyes. I encouraged you to mock and deride him. Oh, the bitter tears that your hard words brought to his eyes. Evil words that you learned from me! Oh, woe! Woe! Woe!"

  "Now, at this, friend John, all four boys joined her with a flood of tears. Yea, they all, to a man, declared that they would now turn and follow after him. But they, like she, knew not which way to go. And so there they stood. A stricken mother with four rag-bag beggar-boys spilling hot and briny tears down their cheeks and onto their patched-over hand-me-down shoes."

  "Please forgive me, my sons," continued she. "I truly thought your father's troubles sprang from a fevered imagination, or some great fit of depression. I believed that I could drive it from him with chidings or angry words. But I was wrong. He had seen a better land. God only delayed showing him which way to flee that he might win our hearts and take us along with him. And indeed, you had all gone except for your wicked, wicked mother! Oh, my sons, can you ever forgive me?"

  "We do forgive you, Mother fair," cried generous-hearted Matthew. "Don't we, boys?"

  "Yes, forgive! We forgive," agreed the younger three.

  "But mother," cried Matthew, earnestly, "can we not even yet pack us up and be gone after him?"

  "No! For I know not the way! And, worse than
that, I have no grounds to hope that I ever shall."

  "Ohhh," groaned he.

  "Ohhh," groaned they all.

  "And even if we do see the way and follow after," added she, "I know that it will go harder for us now than ever it would have had we followed straight on."

  "Ohhh," groaned Matthew.

  "Ohhh," groaned they all.

  "Oh, poor dear father," whimpered Samuel softly, as he wiped a runny nose on his muddy sleeve.

  "He was only trying to lead us to a better land," moaned Joseph. "And yet how rudely did I treat him - as if he were an enemy. Oh, wicked boy!"