Sanctified Signatures
Location: Bowie Marital Registration Office, Prince George's County, Marynd
Timeframe: 7 Months After 6C Control
The Rev. Gerald Lyman of St. Peter’s Evangelical Methodist Church was not a man prone to spectacle. His sermons were rooted in gentle fire—more Psalms than Revetions—but as he approached the municipal building in Bowie, the disgust on his face was unmasked.
The insignia of the 6 Commandments Party—stylized in symmetrical, abstract lines suggesting “order and obedience”—was affixed above the gss doors of the marital registry.
“This used to be a courthouse,” he muttered under his breath.
“Now it’s… something else.”
He paused before entering, eyes narrowing at the security post: a rge metal disc where the seal of Marynd’s judiciary once stood, now repced with the Civic Harmony Emblem of 6C. Behind it stood a woman in a dark green hijab, head held high, clipboard in hand. She nodded with the practiced calm of bureaucracy.
“Welcome. Marriage registration or Femme Group review?”
Before Gerald could respond, the young couple behind him—Isaiah Holt and Nadine Weller, both early 20s, holding hands nervously—stepped forward.
“Marriage. First-time contract,” Nadine said softly.
The woman nodded.
“You’ll be directed to a registrar. The officer will certify your MEQ compliance and kin approvals. Do you have your 200 marital transfer ready?”
Gerald froze at the terminology. MEQ? Transfer? Kin approvals? These weren’t just new terms. They were part of a new nguage—the subtle colonization of culture through legal rhythm.
Then he saw him: stationed ten feet away by the check-in desk, a man with a neatly trimmed beard, a dark uniform, and a badge engraved:
Marital Enforcement Officer – Zone 6B-MD
He was reading from a tablet, eyes flicking between files. On his left shoulder was a patch: Musa Anwar.
“This is supposed to be a civil service,” Gerald whispered to Isaiah.
“Now they’ve assigned religious officers to approve contracts.”
The officer looked up and approached.
“First-time registration?” he asked. His voice was neutral, but his posture was clear: he was an authority here.
“I’ll need the groom’s AnchorLink ID, the bride’s lineage documentation, and the affidavit from her wali.”
Isaiah fumbled. This is new procedure after 6C's Marital Law repce previous Marynd civil w on marriage. In old w, marriage involve three parties; husband, wife and Marynd state government. Under 6C w, marriage is between husband and wife, witnesses must be 2 men and consent must from bride's male family members.
“We… don’t have a wali. Her father’s not present.”
The officer nodded once, without judgment.
“Then we’ll initiate a community proxy. The approval can be issued by a zone elder or certified kin-trust sponsor. You'll be pced on the 48-hour wait list.”
Gerald stepped forward.
“I am her pastor. I've known Nadine since she was a child. I baptized her. Can I serve as witness?”
The officer’s eyes paused.
“You may serve as one of the two witnesses—but not as wali. The role must be male and blood-retive from her paternal line. That is the governing framework under 6C Marital Code v1.1, currently binding in Marynd under state realignment ws.”
The room fell quiet for a moment. The pastor swallowed his protest.
Behind them, another couple stepped in—two women in matching ste coats, holding a small folio. They approached a different registrar with a confident air.
“We’re adding a third co-wife to our Femme Group. Same Anchor, separate rotation schedule.”
Gerald gnced at them. Even here. Even now.
Isaiah squeezed Nadine’s hand, whispering something she nodded to.
The registrar handed them a file titled:
“Contract of Marriage under Polygamy Law v1.1 – First Unit Registration.”
As they moved deeper into the hall, a quiet voice came over the intercom:
“Room 3 is now accepting new applicants for Femme Group transfer protocols. Concubine agreements must be pre-certified.”
Gerald remained by the entrance, unmoving.
“What happened to covenant?” he murmured.
“Now love is measured in credits… and witnesses.”
***
Location: Bowie, Marynd – Nadine’s shared apartment
Time: Three nights after registering under 6C’s Marital Law
The contract folder sat on their small kitchen table, still unopened since they returned home. The paper was sleek, matte bck with a silver-embossed seal: “6C – Marital Code Division.”
Nadine stared at it as if it were a verdict.
“It doesn’t feel like we got married,” she said softly.
“It feels like we… entered something. Bigger than us.”
Isaiah, sitting across from her, ran a hand over his short curls and exhaled.
“We did,” he said. “And that’s what I can’t figure out.
We said the words. Paid the fee.
Got the two witnesses.
But it wasn’t our church.
It wasn’t your mom’s hands fixing your veil.
It was… terms and metrics and legal rhythm.”
Nadine flipped open the folder.
Inside was their copy of the contract:
Marriage Contract – Monogamous Anchor Unit
Registered Under: Polygamy Law v1.1 – Article A.1 (First Union Framework)
There was a QR code linking to their shared custody tier if children were born, and a rotation eligibility line—bnk for now, but open should Isaiah ever “acquire a second wife.”
“I didn’t even ask what happens if I don’t agree to be part of a Femme Group,” she said.
Isaiah looked at her carefully.
“They told me it’s not mandatory. But… if we stay isoted, we won’t get full housing credits.
No childcare buffer.
And if anything ever happens to me… the court will ask who your Femme anchor is. If you don’t have one, custody default kicks in.”
Nadine’s eyes widened.
“Meaning the state decides where the kids go?”
He nodded.
“Unless you’re already inside a Femme Group. That’s where trust w kicks in.”
They were both silent.
“We didn’t just get married,” Nadine said finally.
“We signed into a system. One that assumes... more.”
Isaiah stood and paced the room.
“You know what scares me most?” he asked, voice low.
“They’ve repced love with function.
But the scary thing is… it might actually work.”
Nadine stood too, walking over to him.
“Then we learn it together. Not to submit.
But to survive.”
That night, they sat down and scanned the Femme Group Formation Handbook.
Two names appeared under “nearby invites.”
Three applications under “potential future Anchor Sync.”
A field beled “Trust Rhythm Compatibility – pending initialization.”
Nadine whispered:
“They’ve structured the future...
Right down to where love is allowed to nd.”
Isaiah didn’t answer.
He just clicked “Postpone Femme Group Sync – 30 Days,” and closed the screen.
***
The Uneven Covenant – Reverend Gerald Lyman's Sunday Sermon
Location: St. Peter’s Evangelical Methodist Church, Prince George’s County, Marynd
Date: The Sunday after Isaiah and Nadine’s 6C marriage registration
It was the kind of still morning where breath hung in the stained-gss light.
Reverend Gerald Lyman stood at the pulpit of the church he had shepherded for thirty-two years. The sanctuary was only two-thirds full, but every head was turned toward him. No one was rustling. No one was checking their phones.
He hadn’t posted the sermon title online.
He hadn’t even written it down.
Only one word sat on his notecard in bck ink:
“Covenant.”
Rev. Lyman (slow, measured):
“Brothers and sisters, I stood this week in the lobby of a government office in Bowie.
It had the name ‘Marital Office.’
But I tell you today—it bore no resembnce to the sacred covenant described in Scripture.”
He paused.
“There were officials with badges.
Rituals I didn’t recognize.
And before me stood one of our own young couples—full of hope, love, and trembling—
only to be told their bond must be measured through a system of credits, anchors, and rotations.”
A murmur rippled through the pews.
“Now let me be fair:
That couple was not coerced.
They signed with their own hands.
But I fear… they signed in a nguage they didn’t understand.
Not the nguage of faith.
Not the nguage of covenant.
But the nguage of a new governance—one that wears the robe of order, but strips away grace.”
He took a breath, voice rising:
“In 6C states, what once was marriage before God is now contract before metrics.
What once was sacrament is now rotation-eligible.
And friends, I must ask:
Where is the cross in that contract?
Where is the forgiveness?
The sacrifice?
The ying down of one’s life for another?”
He opened his Bible to Ephesians 5.
“‘Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her.’
But 6C says,
‘Husbands may take four wives—plus concubines—
if they meet the metrics and rotate fairly.’”
He set the Bible down gently.
“They’ve traded the altar for an algorithm.
And some call it progress.”
Final Appeal:
“Now listen. We are still in Marynd.
Our church still stands.
The w has not come for us yet.
But as your shepherd, I will not be silent as our sacred bonds are repackaged by rhythm and statistics.”
His voice softened.
“If you find yourself tempted by structure—pause.
If you feel drawn by crity—search your spirit.
Not every clean system is holy.
Not every rhythm is righteous.”
After the service, no one filed out quickly. Some stood still in their pews, thoughtful.
Two families whispered quietly by the stained gss.
An elder woman wept quietly, not because of fear—but because she could already feel her granddaughter slipping toward the system Gerald had just described.
In the days that followed, his sermon was quietly shared in private Christian group chats.
But others—young members—began to search terms they’d never heard before:
Femme Group.
AnchorLink.
Rotation Eligibility.
And somewhere in Bowie, a marital enforcement officer opened a new inquiry file:
“Deyed Femme Sync – Unit #19451.”
***
When Shepherds Stand Alone – Reverend Lyman’s Dilemma
Location: Prince George’s County, Marynd – One week after his “Covenant” sermon**
Setting: St. Peter’s Evangelical Methodist Church office and surrounding community
The Monday after his sermon, Reverend Gerald Lyman found a white envelope slid under his office door.
Inside: a folded page, printed and unsigned.
“We agree. But please, slow down. You may cost the church more than you save.”
Below were five initials, all from longtime board members of St. Peter’s.
By Wednesday, two deacons requested a private meeting. On Thursday, the treasurer gently asked if Gerald would consider "broadening the tone” of his Sunday messages.
Congregational Shift:
By the end of the week:
Three young couples quietly canceled their premarital counseling sessions.
A small group of young adults—normally reserved—began gathering outside Bible study to talk about “Trust Rhythms” and “Anchor viability.”
Gerald’s niece, Samantha, a senior in college, asked him point-bnk if she could still be part of the church “while exploring legal pcement under Femme Group ethics.”
Rev. Lyman (in a one-on-one with Samantha):
“You’re asking if you can legally bind your future to something structured outside our theology.”
“I’m asking,” she replied, “if I can still be loved here, even if I do.”
He didn’t answer quickly. When he did, his voice was hoarse:
“My calling is to shepherd. Not to gatekeep. But I won’t bless what I know is not covenant.”
Samantha nodded, hugged him—and walked away.
Silence from the Secur Front:
Gerald sent personal letters to:
The Democratic Committee Chair of Prince George’s County, and
The Republican Regional Coordinator
Both had no official position on the 6C marital shift.
The Democrats avoided mention entirely—“not our cultural ne.”
The Republicans quietly approved of “marriage restoration”—but would not comment on concubinage or female-led voting blocs.
Gerald realized what many pastors had already:
No one in power was going to challenge the slow rise of 6C.
And no one wanted to speak against what women were now voluntarily organizing into.
His Personal Notes (found ter in his journal):
“The Democrats won’t touch religion. The Republicans won’t touch female support for order. Both watch the storm build from the safety of their silence.”
“If I speak louder, I may lose half the flock. If I don’t… I lose them anyway.”
Final Scene: Saturday Night Before the Next Sermon
Gerald sat in the empty church, staring at an open Bible.
Outside, the streetlights flickered.
He picked up his pen and wrote the title for Sunday:
“When Caesar Forgets God – And the People Forget the Difference”
Then he whispered:
“Lord… give me a voice soft enough to keep them listening, but strong enough to shake their sleep.”
***
Three Shepherds at Dusk – Gerard’s Quiet Council
Location: An old diner off Route 202, Prince George’s County border
Time: Friday evening, just before sundown
Reverend Gerald Lyman sat at the corner booth of the Silver Sky Diner, hands wrapped around a lukewarm coffee cup, his colr still stiff from an unfinished visit to a local care home. Across from him, Pastor Denise Hall of Graceful Hope Baptist and Father Thomas Mendez of St. Jude’s Anglican Parish arrived within minutes of each other, both looking more tired than usual.
They didn’t need pleasantries.
They’d each received his quiet invitation—just three lines:
“We need to talk. I think we’re all feeling it.
Silver Sky. Friday. 7 PM.”
Pastor Hall (straight to the point):
“We’ve stopped baptizing under-18s this month.
Three families pulled out after saying they were pcing their daughters in Femme Trusts and didn’t want the ‘conflict of dual covenants.’”
Father Mendez (shaking his head):
“Our premarital counseling css went from twelve to zero.
One couple told me ftly:
‘Father, we need the benefits. The rotation gives us rhythm. The state gives us stability.’”
He paused, face lined with quiet heartbreak.
“They spoke like parishioners thanking me for my years of service. But it was a farewell. Not a request for blessing.”
Gerald nodded.
“They say it works.
That it’s ‘cleaner’ now.
That the metrics don’t lie.”
Pastor Hall:
“Metrics don’t see love.
Metrics don’t bury the dead.
Metrics don’t hold hands during miscarriages or sit beside the bed of a dementia patient.”
She leaned forward.
“But our congregants… they think 6C is faith made functional.
And we’re the ones holding onto ghosts.”
They fell silent for a few minutes as ptes were cleared by a young waitress wearing a small 6C badge on her apron. She said nothing, only nodded politely.
Father Mendez (softly):
“We’ve all preached about Rome before.
About Caesar. About compromise.
But we never preached about being the quiet, surviving church beneath a new order.”
Gerald (resigned):
“Because none of us thought we’d see the day where the people converted before the politicians.
And the women led the charge.”
The table grew heavy with unspoken truths.
Pastor Hall (st to speak):
“This isn’t persecution.
It’s not fire and chains.
It’s dispcement.
And if we don’t find new nguage for covenant, for intimacy, for belonging—
we’ll end up preaching in rooms where no one is asking questions anymore.”
They agreed to meet again in two weeks. Not to draft resistance—but to bear witness. Together.
That night, Gerald drove home slowly, praying not for strength to fight—
but for wisdom to speak with both grief and crity to those already halfway gone.
***
Between Pulpit and Pulse – The Second Meeting of the Three Shepherds
Location: A private back room at Graceful Hope Baptist Church, just off Central Avenue
Time: Two weeks ter, 8:45 PM, after Wednesday evening Bible study
The sanctuary was already dark when Reverend Gerald Lyman arrived. He was ushered through a side hallway by a deacon who said nothing, only nodded solemnly. Inside the modest, wood-paneled room were Pastor Denise Hall, seated at the head of a small table with a stack of folded flyers beside her, and Father Thomas Mendez, already sipping bck tea, his clerical colr slightly loosened.
The tone tonight was different—less startled, more still.
Gerald:
“It’s spreading faster than even I expected.”
“My choir director’s daughter signed a Femme Pact st week.
Her reason? ‘Mom, I want emotional infrastructure.’”
Denise (dryly):
“One of my ushers told me his wife is adding a second co-wife.
He said: ‘We feel safe in it. The trust votes together. We get our own council rep next month.’
Council rep, Gerald. They’re politically organizing around intimacy.”
Father Mendez (quietly):
“One of my altar servers left st Sunday’s Mass early.
His fiancée wanted to attend Harmony Rotation Prep—a css hosted in a high school gymnasium.
She said it was ‘civic preparation for domestic continuity.’”
Denise (shuffling the flyers):
“These were handed out by a young woman in my parking lot.
Look—‘The Femme Handbook for New Converts.’
Printed in four nguages.
Back page says ‘Distributed with support from the Cedar Vale Civic Bance Annex.’
That’s 6C.”
They passed the booklet around. On the inside cover was a stylized quote:
“You don’t need to believe. You only need to commit.”
Gerald (slumped slightly):
“They’re not asking people to renounce us.
Just to repce us.”
Silence.
The three pastors had faced crises before—economic crashes, funerals from fentanyl, even rising agnosticism. But this was different. This was not rejection. It was substitution.
Father Mendez (softly):
“The rituals are coming faster than the ws.
People are changing behaviors before they're told to.
We spent years trying to shepherd people toward virtue.
Now a system shepherds them toward rhythm.
And they’re calling it peace.”
Denise (leaning forward):
“What if we’re the ones behind?
What if their needs—their desire for shared bor, emotional crity, security—
have outpaced our nguage?
And 6C just met them where we didn’t?”
Gerald looked up slowly, pain behind his eyes.
“Then we need to decide if we preach against the structure—
or preach beneath it, to the hearts it still hasn’t reached.”
They didn’t decide that night.
But they agreed to write one st shared sermon—three voices, one pulpit, preached in all three churches on the same Sunday.
Title:
“Covenant in a Time of Rhythm”
Not a rebuke.
Not yet.
But a reminder: there is still nguage the soul understands that cannot be measured in trust votes or sex rotations.
***
In Secret Study – Brielle’s Quiet Conversion
Location: Prince George’s County, Marynd
Time: The week following the pastors’ second meeting
Brielle Hammond, 22, sat on the back pew of St. Peter’s Evangelical Methodist Church long after service ended. A notebook sat open on her p, full of careful, unlined handwriting and diagram sketches. She wasn’t taking notes on the sermon anymore—she was tracking something else.
At the top of her newest page:
“Femme Trust Structures – Internal Governance Rhythms.”
Brielle had grown up in this church. She had been baptized by Reverend Lyman. Her mother still sang in the choir. But since the 6C take-over in Marynd, a quiet tension buzzed beneath every sermon. And it stirred something in her that wasn’t rebellion—but curiosity.
Part 1: Her Church, Her Question
What confused her most wasn’t the Femme Trust itself—women organizing into autonomous groups bound by shared intimacy and cohabitation. What puzzled her was why women like her cousin Tanesha had left the church quietly to marry into a trust... and seemed peaceful afterward.
And why no one, not even Reverend Lyman, could expin why it felt so functionally correct—even if spiritually foreign.
“If something works,” she wrote,
“and the Bible doesn’t mention it clearly…
is it sin, or is it simply uncimed terrain?”
Part 2: Digital Archive Dive
On a private browser, Brielle began collecting files:
AnchorLink architecture slides
Femme Trust application forms
Rotation cycle guidelines
Screenshots from the 6C legal code on Femme Group rights
She categorized them by tiers:
Formation – Custody – Emotional Anchors – Internal Pacts – Inter-trust Dispute Models.
One night, she saved a full PDF of 6C Polygamy Law v1.1
Next to it:
6C Amendment Log: ‘Wife Femme Cuse’ and ‘Concubine Pact Ethics’
Part 3: The Trinity Question
But it was during her third week of research that her studies took a sharper turn.
She read—twice—through a leaked transcript of a 6C public symposium where a religious jurist expined why 6C explicitly banned Pauline doctrines and rejected Trinitarian theology.
She underlined the following passage:
“Trinity fractures God into something ungovernable.
But governance begins with oneness.
In 6C, all moral architecture depends on monotheism:
One God. One Prophet. One hierarchy. One rhythm.”
Brielle gasped quietly when she read it—not because she believed it yet—but because something inside her recognized that 6C was building theology as structure, not metaphor.
Private Voice Memo (recorded at 2:13 a.m.):
*“I’ve never questioned the Trinity. Not because I understood it, but because I inherited it.
But now I’m wondering if… maybe…
the reason 6C feels coherent is because it puts God back in the center as a single will.*
I still love Jesus.
But I don’t know what He is anymore.”*
Final Scene: Her Notebook, 3 Weeks Later
Title Page:
“Unmapped Obedience – Brielle Hammond’s Notes Toward a Femme-Structured Faith”
Underneath:
Private. Not to be shared. Unless one day… I find others quietly asking too.
***
Delih was quiet, always had been—never rebellious, but never blind either. As the debates over 6C began filtering even into youth group potlucks and post-service circles, she found herself curious. Not seduced by it, she told herself—just researching.
She hid her notes in an old study Bible cover, the kind with a zipper. No one checked the youth piano bench, where she often sat during choir rehearsals. That’s where she kept it.
What the Journal Contained (handwritten, orderly):
Page 1:
“Why Trinity Was Banned – 6C’s Rejection Framework”
“Trinitarianism seen as polytheism in Ismic thought”
“6C aligns structurally with Ismic monotheism: One God, One Prophet line, no divine sonship”
“Pauline epistles seen as ‘man’s voice over God’s rhythm’”
“6C doctrine enforces ‘Prophet as Messenger, not Incarnate’”
Page 6:
“What is a Femme Trust (as understood from 6C legal briefs)”
Minimum 2 women: legal wives, concubines, or both
Male anchor required for registration but doesn’t govern
Femme Trusts hold custody, domestic governance, and internal rotation schedules
Private pact protocols allowed between co-wives
Emotion indexed through “REI curves”—Retional Entanglement Index
Page 14:
Questions I Can’t Answer Yet:
Is submission the same as stability?
If women lead inside the trust… why is it still called submission?
Why do I feel safer reading this than I do saying it out loud?
The Discovery:
It happened on a Thursday. Delih had left her Bible cover on the edge of the youth room piano while running to help fold tables.
Naomi Bradshaw, 16, one of the younger choir singers, curious and bored, unzipped it looking for sheet music. Instead, she found the dense handwritten pages. Her eyes widened.
She brought it quietly to Miss Reva, one of the church’s long-time youth coordinators.
Reva Confronts Delih (in the church kitchen):
Reva (gentle, but firm):
“Sweetheart, I found your notes.”
“These are deep things. Political. Theological.
But I have to ask… why are you studying them like doctrine?”
Delih’s voice was quiet.
“Because they are doctrine… for millions now.
Because everyone’s either shouting against it…
or silently moving toward it.
And I needed to know what they’re hearing—
before I tell them what’s wrong with it.”
Reva frowned but said nothing.
“You going to tell Pastor Lyman?” Delih asked.
Reva paused.
“Not yet. But I think… you might need to.”
Scene Ends:
That night, Delih added a new line to her journal:
“Studying 6C is no longer private. It’s now retional. And maybe that’s the point—it always was.”
***
The Hidden Notebook – Reva’s Discovery of Trust and Doctrine
Location: St. Peter’s Evangelical Methodist Church, Prince George’s County, Marynd
Characters:
Reva Bryant, 25, Sunday school volunteer and part-time grad student in theology
Elyse Morgan, 22, church member, quiet, observant—keeps mostly to herself
Scene: Church Library Annex – Wednesday Afternoon
The church’s annex library was rarely used—mostly a storage space for old Bible study materials, dusty hymnals, and extra chairs. Reva had come to organize some Sunday school materials when she knocked a weathered cardboard box off a shelf.
Inside, amidst loose catechism worksheets and half-used prayer journals, she noticed a small, modern bck leather-bound notebook. Not church-issued. Not tagged.
She opened it.
The First Page:
“6C Trust Framework: Initial Thoughts”
Femme Trust as civil unit
Anchor = not head, but function
Emotional rhythm codified through “rotation” — is this securizing or sacralizing intimacy?
The next few pages surprised her even more.
“Trinity doctrine: source of division. Why is it not found in Jewish monotheism? Why did 6C ban it?
Early Ebionites believed Jesus was Prophet, not God. Pre-Pauline Christianities were monotheist.
6C theology mimics Ism/Judaism. No Pauline influence. No Christ as deity. Just a rhythm-anchored prophet lineage.”
Reva stared at the handwriting.
Elyse Morgan.
She hadn’t even known Elyse studied theology.
Reva’s Reaction: Internal Monologue
*“She’s not just reading.
She’s building understanding.
Not propaganda. Not resistance.
Just… an honest pursuit.”*
Reva tucked the journal into her tote bag and left the room slowly.
Later That Night – Reva’s Room
The pages were filled with Elyse’s quiet, steady voice:
Notes on Marital Law and how it parallels ancient Jewish betrothal systems.
Sketches of Trust Hierarchies vs. household patriarchies.
A quote underlined twice:
“Trinity fractures the unity of divine intent—6C restores monotheism as logic, not just faith.”
Reva couldn’t stop reading.
She opened a new document on her ptop:
“Side Notes on Rhythm-Based Governance: Reflections from Within”
She wasn't ready to speak.
Not yet.
But now she knew:
someone else in the pews was asking the same questions.
***
Location: St. Peter’s Evangelical Methodist Church – Side Chapel & Reva’s Kitchen
1. The Notebook
Her name was Talia Brooks, a 21-year-old theology student and quiet fixture in the back pews of St. Peter’s. She’d grown up under Pastor Lyman’s sermons and knew her Bible better than most of her professors. But she also had questions—dangerous ones.
She kept a leather-bound notebook beneath her seat cushion at church, scribbling between services when no one noticed.
Page titles included:
“Trust as Covenant: Femme Groups & Pauline Repcement”
“Ban on Trinity: Historical Echoes of the Ebionites”
“6C’s God: Unified Monotheism, Shared Prophet Lineage, No Mystery Doctrine”
“Theology as Governance: When Law and Faith Merge”
One Sunday, Reva Alston, the 42-year-old choir pianist and long-time member, was cleaning between pews after service when she found the notebook. The gold-edged pages, the diagrams, the scriptural comparisons—it stopped her cold.
She didn’t tell anyone. She took it home.
2. Reva’s Reading
For a week, Reva read the journal at night in silence, candles lit on either side of her kitchen table. She was stunned—not just by Talia’s insight, but by how methodically she’d drawn direct lines between 6C doctrine and early Christianity’s suppressed sects.
She remembered studying the Ebionites in seminary long ago:
A group that rejected Paul’s writings.
Believed Jesus was the Messiah—but not divine.
Upheld Jewish w.
Denied the Trinity.
Now… she was seeing 6C echoing that model—only wrapped in w, rhythm, and state infrastructure.
3. The Quiet Confrontation
The following Sunday, Reva approached Talia after service. She held out the notebook gently.
“I read it,” she said.
“I didn’t mean to. But… I couldn’t stop.”
Talia froze. She was ready for rebuke.
But Reva only said:
“You’re not crazy.
You’re just the first person I’ve seen actually study this with eyes open.”
Talia blinked back emotion.
“I thought I was sinning just by thinking about it.”
Reva smiled.
“Then let’s sin together. At least academically.”
4. Weekly Meetings Begin
Every Thursday evening, they met at Reva’s house. They didn’t call it Bible study. They didn’t advertise it.
They brought:
Early church history texts
Modern 6C publications
The Gospel of Matthew (used by Ebionites)
6C statements on theology, including the Trinity ban and Pauline epistle purging
They cross-referenced:
Trinity vs. Tawhid (Ismic Oneness) vs. 6C Monotheism
Role of Jesus: Divine Son vs. Human Prophet vs. 6C Model
Authority: Apostolic Church vs. Prophet Lineage vs. 6C Religious Code
5. A Shared Realization
Reva (closing her book):
“This isn’t rebellion. This is archaeology.”
“The people think 6C is alien. But it’s not new. It’s older than us.”
Talia:
“The fear is real though. If Pastor Lyman knew…”
Reva:
“He would grieve. But he would understand.”
(Pause)
“Let’s give him something worth grieving over.”
They began organizing the pages, sketching comparison charts.
And quietly—faithfully—they built a bridge between two testaments, two churches, and two women trying to understand a faith that no longer stood still.
***
Three Threads at the Edge of Doctrine
Location: Prince George’s County, Marynd
Setting: A small prayer room behind St. Peter’s Evangelical Methodist Church
Characters:
Leah Sanders – 21, church youth volunteer, the original journal writer
Reva Brooks – 26, choir director, deeply faithful but increasingly contemptive
Micah Daniels – 22, seminary-bound intern with an earnest but naive faith
Scene I: The Private Study
Twice a week, just after the Wednesday Bible study, Leah and Reva would slip into the unused prayer room with a thermos of tea and a growing stack of handwritten notes.
Leah's journal had grown into a detailed comparative archive. Its title page now read:
“TRUST, TRINITY & TESTAMENT: Notes on 6C and Early Church Disputes.”
They sat cross-legged on the floor, maps of doctrinal divergence spread around them.
Reva:
“I can’t believe they teach this openly. That Jesus was only a prophet, not divine—”
Leah:
“That’s not new. The Ebionites taught the same. And remember, the Council of Nicaea wasn’t scripture. It was politics.”
Reva (after a pause):
“So when 6C bans the Trinity… they’re not inventing a heresy.
They’re just reviving an old one.”
They looked at each other, stunned by the symmetry.
Scene II: The Interruption
One Thursday afternoon, Micah Daniels, who’d arrived early to prep the youth sermon, stepped past the cracked door and froze.
Inside, he saw Reva and Leah seated at the floor, flipping between an annotated Book of Acts, a printout of the 6 Commandments theological addendum, and a notebook beled “Rhythmic Trust Ethics.”
Micah (knocking softly):
“What… are you doing?”
They turned, startled.
Leah scrambled to close the journal, but Reva raised a hand—calm.
Reva:
“Studying.”
Micah:
“That’s… 6C material.”
Leah:
“It’s theology. And it’s spreading. We’d rather understand it than pretend it isn’t happening.”
Micah:
“You sound like sympathizers.”
Reva (quietly):
“No.
We’re not sympathizing.
We’re witnessing the end of one theology, and the birth of another.
And trying to understand why our people are choosing it.”
Scene III: The Choice
Micah stood frozen.
He could report them to Gerald.
He could walk out.
He could join them.
He did none of those.
Instead, he sat down slowly and asked:
“What did the Ebionites actually believe… about covenant?”
Reva slid the printout toward him.
Leah opened her journal to a fresh page.
That night, a third column appeared in Leah’s notes:
THREE PATHS:
Nicene Orthodoxy
Ebionite Simplicity
6C Monotheism (Reframed through Rhythm)
At the bottom of the page, Reva added:
“If God is One, what does that make our division?”
***
The three sat in a tight circle around a folding table in the dim-lit church basement, its once-weekly Bible study sessions now repurposed by quiet hunger—for crity, for truth, for understanding.
Open on the table were:
A parallel comparison of 6C’s Marital Law (Polygamy Law v1.1)
Leah’s hand-copied notes on the Ebionites and Arian theology
Reva’s battered notebook, marked with red tabs and quotes underlined in urgency
A printed excerpt from Gospel of Barnabas she’d sourced from a fringe academic archive
And in the center—taped and creased—was a diagram Reva had drawn:
A triangle beled “Father – Son – Spirit” beside a rectangle beled “6 Commandments.”
Micah (frustrated):
“So the trinity was banned because... it’s not in the Torah or Quran.
But that’s not our faith. Why force their standard here?”
Reva (flipping through her journal):
“According to 6C texts—at least the ones I found on civic blogs and transcripts—they reject the trinity because it ‘fractures the Oneness of Divine Governance.’
They quote early Jewish-Christian sects. Ebionites. Some Ismic schors. Even 2nd-century Greek arguments.”
She hesitated.
“But they also write like a political movement... not a spiritual one.”
Leah (softly):
“Maybe they’re both.”
Micah:
“Then let’s ask someone in 6C to expin it outright.”
Silence.
Reva closed her notebook slowly.
“The only one assigned to our district is Officer Musa Anwar. He’s Muslim. Not 6C.
I asked his niece during field service. He follows fiqh, not 6 Commandments.
That’s not the same thing.”
Leah leaned forward, eyes steady.
“But 6C borrows from Ism. Deeply.
It bans pork. Bans gambling. Permits polygamy. Follows male authority. Denies trinity. Recognizes Muhammad as the final prophet.
The difference is they say it’s new.
But they’ve stitched it together from old cloth.”
Micah folded his arms.
“Then maybe we ask a Muslim how it works.
And see where 6C breaks away.
If this thing really is a new religion, it can’t just be reverse-engineered doctrine. It has to have a heart.”
Leah looked at Reva.
“What if we go ask the officer anyway?
Not as critics. But as... curious believers.”
Reva exhaled.
“Then we go without judgment.
We bring questions, not accusations.”
They agreed to meet again Saturday night.
And after the room was cleared, Leah lingered.
She stared at Reva’s diagram again.
“Do you think... they banned the trinity because it left too much space for mystery?”
Reva replied:
“Maybe.
Or maybe they needed one throne to match one ruler.”
***
