by Dr. Joel Philip Church A selection of Bible stories put in 1860s western settings

     The big sky country was well named. The plains of Montana seemed alive as the breeze made the green orchard grass dotted with flowering lespedeza sway in a breathing motion.
    Each pitchfork of hay seemed heavier than the one before, especially in the humid, noon day sun. Perspiration ran down Rex Henderson's face and dripped on the front of his already wet gabardine shirt. He paused and wiped his face with a large bandana as he looked again toward the boiling thunderhead moving in from the west. 

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     They trailed a convict named Luke LaMacha who, along with three other men, gunned his way out of the Yuma State Penitentiary and was holed-up in a barn near Welton. Welton was a small town at the base of the Castle Dome Mountains.
    LaMacha was serving a life sentence for crimes of murder, bank robbery, child abuse, assault and fraud. He was a habitual criminal, unable and unwilling to break the chains of evil placed on him by Satan.
    His lawbreaking pattern began at the early age of seven when he stole a revolver and horse from a drunken cowboy and went on a rampage through the ranches of the area. No one could understand why someone, especially a child, would shoot cows and horses for pure pleasure.
    He claimed his first human life at the age of twelve when he went into a church and for no reason, shot and killed a preacher who was delivering a sermon on love. His next victim was a boy of his own age, whom he shot out of a tree. The boy was playing hide-and-seek with other youngsters.

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         A shot echoed across the Nevada badlands. Searing pain erupted in Jaco Monteleco's back like something exploded inside him. He saw his own flesh and blood splattered across his horse's head and neck just before everything spun into darkness. An area of muddy ground cushioned his fall.

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         It was like a dark cloud hovered over the entire nation of Raphael San Racino.  The tiny Spanish country evolved from a Godly nation to a nation of perversion, a nation of heathen people. Once God blessed and prospered it, but now He was mocked, despised and rejected. The nation found evil devises to replace Him.

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     One day the promise became reality. Sure enough Edith, as God promised, had a big, healthy boy. Leroy was so elated that he called in the hired hands for a party that lasted for days. It was truly the happiest day of his life, it was a day he would always remember.
    He spent countless hours teaching his son, Jonathan, which meant "a gift," all the ways of ranching. As Jonathan grew he learned about planting corn, caring for the cattle, grooming the horses and caring for equipment. By the time he was eight, he could ride with the cowboys during round-up.

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      Richard was not a stereotype school teacher of that day; he was not small, frail and timid. Rather, he was hefty built blacksmith who could hammer out horse shoes and wagon wheel rims with such speed that people would come by the shop to just watch him work.
    His face was permanently browned because of his constant exposure to the hot fires in the forge heating metal to cherry red before his heavy hammer began to pound it into shape. As he backed away from the heat and wiped his face, sweat dripped from his arms, he took a deep breath. He cocked his head to one side then the other to gain a different prospective of his creation, a decorative metal brace designed by him for the town’s bank teller, Mrs. Pritchard. It was a strong, yet delicate looking brace for the sagging porch on her carefully manicured house.
    His bare muscled chest glistened from the moisture and his well-exercised forearms bulged to the point that they looked a little out of place with the rest of his body.  He wore blue jeans that sagged in the backside. His head was covered with a sweat-stained straw hat. It had small vent holes in the side that were designed to give a little ventilation in the summer heat. It had been white in times past, but was now a brownish tan.

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    One afternoon while James was cooking a pot roast with fresh potatoes, carrots, celery, hot rolls and corn on the cob, Thomas came in from a two day hunting trip. His trip was not as successful as most and he was gnawing with hunger. The aroma of the food made him even more hungry.
    "Hey, James, fix me a plate, I'm about to starve. I haven't eaten anything but berries in two days."
    This was the chance James waited for. "Sure, Tom, I'll fix you a plate." He took as much time as he could in dishing up the food.
        James brought a heaping platter of steaming food and stood by the table where Thomas was seated. "Tom lets make a trade. I'll give you this food and plenty more if you'll let me have the ranch. You don't need it anyway; you'll probably spend all your time in the woods anyway."

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     Chester Neff sat by the campfire sipping from a cup of freshly brewed coffee while the early morning sun flickered through the leaves of the large maple. The cool breeze was a refreshing break to yesterday's arid day, temperatures climbed to nearly a hundred, sucking out the little moisture left in the ground.
    He stood to his feet, quickly drew his gun and fanned six bullets into the trunk of a small elm. He loaded and again put all six in the target

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         "I've called you together to give you some important news. I've made a decision to tear down all the existing barns and build new ones. These new barns will be like no other you've ever seen; they'll be bigger and stronger. They'll hold much more hay and produce than the ones I have now; they will even have steel doors to keep people from breaking in. I'm going to have every one of the new ones painted bright red, they'll show for miles around and everyone will know the Grayson ranch is the best spread in the country.

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         Prince Pele of Shameh, along with his followers, rode into town. Adults stood in respect and fascinated children ran along side yelling and waving. His mount was a white stallion with a flowing mane; the saddle was glistening white, trimmed in gold. His clothes, including the Stetson hat, were also pure white. He wore a linen cape that billowed behind him as he rode. There was no doubt that he was royalty.

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         Learsi was under the control of a wicked, diabolical dictator. Mephistopheles, although welcomed at first by the residents, had long ago overstepped intended limits and there was no one to stop him. He controlled ever part of their lives, there was no freedom.
    Sickness, murder, perversion and poverty became accepted by everyone as an element of reality. Incurable diseases raged unchecked through the land at breakneck speed.
    One day at noon a stranger rode into the town of Asham, Learsi. His mount was a awesome white stallion with a flowing mane, the saddle was gleaming white, trimmed in silver and gold. His clothes, including the Stetson hat, were also brilliant white.

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         Gaylord Houston founded the state of Houstana in 1865 and became governor in 1866. He gained great wealth by hard work and fair dealings. Because of his love for God, much of his untold riches were on loan to business people, inventors, farmers, ranchers and even the government. He, although a wise and dedicated steward, loaned interest free money to almost anyone he considered upright and honest.
    His loans provided homes for underprivileged families and business expansion for already prosperous entrepreneurs.

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         His farm was just a short distance out of town so within thirty minutes he was bargaining with the laborers. "I'll pay you two dollars for the day, but that means no goofing off."
    One of the workers made a counter offer, "By the looks of those clouds, you're needing someone pretty bad. Me and the boys will give you a good day for two-fifty. You're going to give us dinner aren't you?"
    "All right. I'll pay you two-fifty and a fried chicken dinner. Load up."

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         Times were tough since Charles died. It was hard for anyone, much less a lady, to scratch out a living on a worn-out Arkansas farm during the post-Civil War years. The state was scarred from widespread battles including Pea Ridge (Elkhorn Tavern), Prairie Grove, Jenkins' Ferry, Arkansas Post, Helena and Little Rock.
     Eunice Shepherd, with the help of her nine-year-old twin sons, Nicky and Ricky, managed to produce enough vegetables out of the garden for food, but there was nothing left over. She made a small amount of cash from selling hand-stitched quilts. This money was used for staples like sugar, salt, baking powder, white flour and sometimes coffee.

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         Dust was so heavy it was hard to breathe and the temperature was ninety-three. The men wore bandannas over their mouths and noses to filter out some of the billowing powder. All the horses looked the same color, dirty gray.
    The cattle mooed in desperation; the last watering hole was two days behind them. Some died and the rest showed the affects of the long drive.
    They began to move faster when their senses detected water somewhere ahead. As they cleared a knoll, a stream came into view and the herd of longhorns charged ahead.
    The drive from Dodge City to Amarillo was always dreaded because of the dusty, dry plains and distance between watering places.

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