The Unmarked Door: A Tale from Ancient Egypt
The Story of Dorkas at the First Passover
A Time of Darkness
In the shadowy corners of ancient Egypt, the Hebrew populace toiled under the weight of oppression. Pharaoh's edicts had grown increasingly harsh, driving the descendants of Jacob into despair. Amidst this era of hardship lived Dorkas, a woman of faith, frugality and will-power, whose life would soon be swathed in the annals of legend.
The Plagues of Egypt
The land of Egypt was plagued by divine retribution. The Nile, once the lifeblood of the nation, had turned to blood. Frogs, gnats, and flies had swarmed the fields and homes, and pestilence had decimated livestock. Boils erupted upon the flesh of humans and animals alike, a harrowing testament to the power of the unseen hand of the God. Hail, locusts, and darkness deeper than the night itself followed, each plague more severe than the last.
Amidst these calamities, the Hebrews saw the signs of their deliverance. Moses, their prophet, had spoken of a final plague, one that would break the chains of their bondage forever: the death of the firstborn. To protect themselves, the Israelites were instructed to mark their doorposts and door headers with the blood of a sacrificial lamb, a sign for the angel of death to pass over their homes.
Dorkas’ Decision
Dorkas had heard the instructions, just like every other Israelite. She understood the gravity of Moses' words and the weight of the commandment. But she heard another voice as well. A wealthy man named Dathan who worked with her in the market suggested that they could save the price of a lamb and simply declare themselves friends of those who put the blood on the door header as instructed. Dathan was sure that just being friends with a family under the blood would be enough for God. After all, his neighbors were no better than they were, and his faith in God was just as strong as others, if not more so. Dorkas felt similarly, yet, something within her wrestled with the decision. Her heart was a cauldron of fear, doubt, and a flickering hope that perhaps, just perhaps, her faith alone would shield her household. After all, she only owned one lamb and had only one son. Her husband had died in the brick mills when an infection got out of hand and went septic. She was very poor. Dorkas’ reasoned that God was merciful and would not make her a widow and heirless as well.
Her neighbors, friends, and family members diligently followed the command, spreading the lamb's blood across their doorposts and headers with fervent hope. As night fell, a hushed anticipation settled over the Hebrew quarters. But Dorkas’ door remained unmarked, a stark contrast to the others.
The Night of Judgment
An eerie silence fell upon the land at dusk. Faint shadows could be seen by the light or a rising silvery moon. The air was thick with tension as families huddled together within their homes, clutching their firstborns close. Outside, the shadow of death began its inexorable journey through the streets of Egypt.
Dorkas’ home, nestled between marked doorways, stood as an unassuming sentinel. She sat by the hearth, her heart pounding like a war drum in her chest. She had placed her faith in the Almighty, believing that her unmarked door would not invite the angel of death. Yet, as the night deepened, her resolve wavered.
The Angel of Death
The cries of mourning began to rise, a haunting wail that echoed through the night. The angel of death moved silently, sparing the marked homes and claiming the lives of the firstborns within the unmarked ones. Dorkas’ heart clenched with every passing cry, her faith tested to its very core.
As the angel approached her home, Miriam knelt in fervent prayer, beseeching the Almighty to give her what she deserved. She remembered the stories of Abraham and Isaac, of Jacob and Joseph, and her faith surged anew. The angel paused at her door, the unmarked threshold an anomaly amidst the sea of blood-splashed doorways. His instructions were clear, only those under the blood were to be spared judgment.
In a flash of light, judgment was discharged at Dorkas’ home and her son suddenly lay lifeless in her arms. Nothing she could do would wake him. She began to wail and to gnash her teeth and to curse Dathan who tempted her to disobey. But, it was too late.
Morning and Mourning
In a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, the angel of death moved on, leaving Dorkas’ home. Her misplaced faith had been her undoing. Her unmarked door an imagined testament to her belief in divine mercy, became a symbol of disobedience, judgment and retribution. As dawn broke, the Hebrews emerged from their homes, their hearts heavy with both relief and sorrow.
Dorkas stepped outside, her weeping eyes meeting those of her neighbors. Words need not be spoken. They saw in her a woman of unshakable misplaced faith, whose unmarked door had not brought mercy, but death. The story of Dorkas spread through the Hebrew quarters, a tale of misplaced faith that would be told for generations.
The Exodus
The Pharaoh, devastated by the loss of his firstborn, finally relented. He summoned Moses and Aaron, commanding them to take their people and leave Egypt. The Hebrews gathered their belongings, their hearts alight with the promise of freedom. Dorkas walked among them, alone. For her, death would have been better.
As they journeyed towards the Red Sea, Dorkas’ tale was recounted around campfires and in whispered conversations. She had become a symbol of self-deception, her unmarked door a testament to listening to the wrong voice. The Hebrews crossed the Red Sea and ventured into the wilderness, their spirits buoyed by the miracles they had witnessed.
Legacy
Dorkas’ story endured through the ages, a poignant reminder of the first Passover and the power of delusion. Her unmarked door became a symbol of judgment, a beacon of warning for those who followed. The Hebrews, now free from the yoke of slavery, carried her legacy with them as they forged a new nation, bound by their covenant with the Almighty, determined to never listen to a different voice, to never be a Dorkas.