[Photo Caption: Ruins of Megiddo, overlooking the Valley of Jezreel]
Babylon
Thirteen-year-old Youcef Nadarkhani peered from behind a pile of boxes and wooden pallets in the alley as the back door swung open and a woman emerged carrying a large black garbage bag. There was no telling what was inside, but it had been two days since he, his mother, and his little sister had eaten and he could only pray it contained some scraps of food. He’d have had a better chance of finding food in the garbage behind one of the restaurants, but those places were more likely to be watched by the police. He had known people who had been arrested in such places. He and his mother assumed that was what had happened to his father. No one was sure. One day his father and another man went to try to find food and they simply didn’t come back.
As the woman went back inside and the door closed tight, Youcef looked around and made a dash for the trash can. Attempting to be both silent and quick, he removed the lid and poked a hole in the bag into which he stuck his nose and smelled. Melon. Coffee grounds. Other items he couldn’t quite distinguish. Silently, he grabbed the bag and ran. He would examine its contents later when he was better hidden, somewhere where he was certain that no one would see that he didn’t bear the mark.
Sunday, August 30, 4 N.A.
Petra
“I apologize for taking so long to arrive,” Benjamin Cohen said as Samuel Newberg introduced him to Chaim Levin, Israel’s high priest, “but I was in Jerusalem when I got the message that you wanted to see me.”
Having finished the introductions, Newberg started to leave. “Please, Sam,” the high priest said to his assistant and long time friend, “stay.” Then turning to his guest, “If that’s okay with you.”
“Certainly,” Cohen said. And with that the three men sat down on wooden chairs around a table at which Rose Levin had set a pitcher of water, a bowl of strawberries, and a plate of manna cookies.
“Jerusalem, you said?” Levin’s implied question was how Cohen, a member of the KDP, could have gone to Jerusalem and not been arrested. As soon as he said it, he realized it really didn’t need explaining; the KDP had their ways.
“The Lord provides,” Cohen answered anyway.
Levin nodded. Then after an uncomfortable pause, he pointed at Cohen with his little finger. “I knew your father,” he said.
“I know,” responded Cohen.
“We both trained under Rebbe Schneerson.[185] We were never very close,” Levin added. “Your father was five years older than I — but I believe we respected one another.”
“He always spoke very highly of you,” Cohen said. “He was pleased when you became high priest.”
Levin didn’t reply but raised his left eyebrow, smiled appreciatively, and nodded. After all these years, it was nice to know.
“How can I serve you?” Cohen asked.
Levin looked at the marking on Benjamin Cohen’s forehead — the Hebrew letters spelling out the names Yahweh and Yeshua. “You know,” he began, “I grew up hating Christians. My mother told me I shouldn’t hate, but I had heard her weeping in the night. As a child during the Second World War she spent two years in Belsen,” he explained, referring to the Nazi death camp. “I blamed the Christians for what the Nazis did to the Jews, and most Christians I met when I was young did little to change my opinion. I had to adjust my thinking, though, when I met my wife. Her father had also lived in Germany, near Wurzburg. He spent most of the war hiding above the garage of a Christian family who risked their lives to protect him. I didn’t understand it then, but in time I came to realize that evil people — people like Hitler and the Nazis — frequently attempt to clothe themselves in righteous garments to hide their true nature. I also realized that not all who claim Jesus actually follow his teachings. And I suppose it occurred to me that if I blamed all Christians for the acts of some, then I as a Jew must accept blame for every act of every Jew, all the way back to Jacob for deceiving Isaac and stealing Esau’s blessing, as well as for the deaths of the prophets at the hands of my ancestors. Neither of us, Jews nor Gentiles, exactly has a spotless record.”
“They are my ancestors, too,” Cohen interjected.
Levin nodded, “Yes, but . . .” His reference to ‘my ancestors’ wasn’t intended to imply otherwise. He knew the KDP considered themselves Jewish and even followed all the laws and traditions — were it not so, he could never have allowed Cohen to sit at his table — but in truth, he did question how a person could be a Christian and still be a Jew.
“I sit before you a Jew,” Cohen insisted, “nothing more and nothing less. When my father studied under Rebbe Schneerson, he believed Schneerson was the Messiah,” Cohen said.
“As did I, as did thousands of his followers,” Levin added.
“Did that make them, or my father, or you, not a Jew?”
Levin didn’t answer. It was a rhetorical question.
“And yet Rebbe Schneerson never even set foot in Israel, much less was he born in Bethlehem, the city of David, as the prophet Micah said Messiah would be.[186] So how is it that if I believe that Yeshua — a Jew of the house of David, born in Bethlehem — was Messiah, I suddenly stop being a Jew?”
Levin had heard the argument before. He knew it made sense, but despite himself, despite even the purpose of this meeting, he was still uneasy with it.
“For three and a half years,” Levin said, letting Cohen’s question pass unanswered, “we have been here together — we Jews and you KDP and your Chris—” Levin caught himself. “What do you prefer they be called?”
“‘Christians’ is fine,” Cohen answered, “but many prefer ‘Jewish Believers.’”
Levin nodded and restated the question. “For three and a half years we have been here in Petra together — we Jews and you KDP and your Jewish Believers — and yet none of you have ever come to call, ever come trying to convince me that we are wrong about your messiah. Why?”
Benjamin Cohen thought for a second before answering. “What could we tell you that you don’t already know?” he asked. “Shall I tell you of the signs given by John and my father? Shall I tell you how, after lying dead in the streets of Jerusalem for three and a half days, they were resurrected and taken into heaven as the whole world watched? Or would you have me show you the evidence of God’s blessings on what we do — the manna and the harvest from what had been a barren wilderness?” he asked, as he pointed with open hands to the cookies and berries on the table.
“We know that no one could perform such miraculous signs if God were not with him,”[187] Chaim Levin immediately volunteered.
“Then shall I read to you the words of the prophets? Daniel, who said Messiah would come 483 years after the decree to rebuild Jerusalem after the Babylonian captivity.[188] Jeremiah, who said Messiah would be of the house of David.[189] Micah, who said Messiah would be born in Bethlehem in Judah, and yet his origin was from days of eternity.[190] Shall I quote Isaiah, who said Messiah would be called Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, and the Prince of Peace;[191] that his ministry would begin in Galilee;[192] that he would perform numerous miracles;[193] that though he had done nothing wrong, he would be tried, and at his trial Messiah would not defend himself, but would be led as a lamb, silent to the slaughter;[194] that he would be pierced for our sins and crushed for our iniquities;[195] that after his death he would be resurrected;[196] and that what he had done and said would be told throughout the world for generation after generation, forever?[197] Or should I read to you the words of Zechariah, who said Messiah would come into Jerusalem riding on a donkey,[198] and would be betrayed by a friend for thirty pieces of silver?[199] Shall I appeal to King David, who described Messiah’s death in detail a thousand years before crucifixion was first used — the taunting of the crowds, the casting of lots for his clothing[200] — and who also said that Messiah would be resurrected?”[201]
Sam Newberg, who had until now remained silent, finally spoke. “How could it be,” he asked with some urgency, “that if all you say is true, our fathers could have rejected him?”
“I’m afraid,” Cohen answered, “we Jews have quite a history of rejecting the ones God has sent to rescue us. Our fathers rejected their brother Joseph and sold him into slavery because his dreams said they’d all bow to him someday.[202] And yet, years later, in accordance with God’s will, they did bow to him and he rescued them from famine.[203] Moses was rejected at first, too.[204] He fled Egypt and went into the Sinai for forty years before he returned to free Israel from Pharaoh. But again we rejected him.[205] And even when Moses had freed them from Egypt, our fathers rejected him as their deliverer twelve more times.[206] Twice they were ready to stone him.[207] But it wasn’t just Moses that they had rejected; their grumblings were actually against God.[208] Didn’t our fathers reject both Moses and God and build for themselves a graven image — a golden calf — to worship?[209] Even Aaron and Miriam rejected his leadership.[210]
“At the Passover in the song Dayenu, we sing that we would have been satisfied ‘if he had merely rescued us from Egypt, but had not punished the Egyptians; if he had merely punished the Egyptians, but had not destroyed their gods; if he had merely destroyed their gods, but had not slain their first born . . .’ But it’s a lie! We only fool ourselves. It should have been enough, but even after all the things God did for us, still we didn’t cease our rebellion. Didn’t the Lord say of us through the prophet Isaiah:
All day long I have held out my hands to an obstinate people, who walk in ways not good, pursuing their own imaginations — a people who continually provoke me to my very face . . . who say, ‘Keep away; don’t come near me, for I am too sacred for you!’[211]
“Isn’t the whole of Scripture the history of our rebellion and of God’s forgiveness?
“Moses said that from the day they left Egypt our fathers were rebellious against the Lord.[212] Twice God would have destroyed all of Israel except that Moses pleaded with him not to.[213] Did not Aaron,” Cohen said looking at Levin, “whose spiritual robes you wear, say of our fathers, these people are prone to evil?[214] And didn’t God himself call us a stiff-necked?[215]
“And did we not reject and rebel against God when, though he had blessed us with his law, we went our own way time and again, breaking his law, ignoring his prophets, and bringing his wrath down upon us?
“Is it any surprise then, that when God sent the Messiah, our fathers — and we — rejected him, too? Indeed,” Benjamin Cohen paused to drive home his point, “it would have been out of character for us to have done otherwise!”
Cohen finished his litany. It was quite a indictment.
“You make us sound beyond hope,” Samuel Newberg sighed, more as a confession than as a challenge.
“We are,” Cohen replied offering no excuse for himself or his listeners. “We are all guilty. As it is written, ‘there is no one who does good, not even one.’[216] We are all beyond hope, but none of us is beyond God’s ability to forgive.
“There is no room for arrogance when we stand before a holy God. And yet, despite it all, God has told us through Moses that we are a people holy to the Lord, whom God has chosen out of all the peoples on the face of the Earth to be his people, his ‘treasured possession.’[217] It is just as you said,” Cohen noted, recalling Levin’s earlier comment, “neither we nor the Gentiles have a very good record. Both of us need God’s forgiveness.”
“And just as Joseph, when he was rejected by his brothers, saved the Egyptians first[218] and then his own family, so also Yeshua, when he was rejected by our fathers, turned his attention to the salvation of the Gentiles. As it is written, ‘I will call them “my people” who are not my people.’[219] And now, at last, the time has come for the salvation of Israel.”[220]
Chaim Levin folded his hands in thought. For a long moment no one spoke.
Finally Cohen added, “In truth, I can tell you nothing that you don’t already know. I can’t make your decision any easier. I can’t convince you further. Indeed, I suspect there is nothing of which to convince you. You know the truth. You have for some time.”
The high priest took a deep breath and let it out slowly, staring deeply into Cohen’s eyes as he considered what he had heard.
“The question is no longer one of finding the truth,” Cohen concluded, “but of finding the courage to face the truth you’ve found.”
Chaim Levin frowned and thought and nodded slowly, and then thought and nodded some more. Newberg and Benjamin Cohen waited silently.
“I am not familiar with your book,” Levin said at last. “What is it that the Christian prophets say must be done?”
“The answer,” Cohen said, shaking his head, “is not in the Christian prophets. Look instead to the words of Zechariah:
I will pour out on the house of David and the inhabitants of Jerusalem a spirit of grace and supplication. They will look on me, the one they have pierced, and they will mourn for him as one mourns for an only child, and grieve bitterly for him as one grieves for a firstborn son.”[221]
Thursday, September 3, 4 N.A.
Megiddo, Israel
The red light on the camera came on, indicating that the feed was live to the network.
“Armageddon,” the reporter began ominously. “A word that has struck terror in the hearts of Humankind for nearly two thousand years, a word that has become synonymous with the end of the world. This is Jane Reed, reporting from the ruins of the ancient city of Megiddo above the Valley of Jezreel in Israel. It’s from this mountain, on which this ancient city is built — the mountain of Megiddo or, in the Hebrew Har Mageddon — that the apocalyptic Armageddon takes its name.
[Photo Caption: Ruins of Megiddo, overlooking the
Valley of Jezreel]
“Behind me, stretching out for more than thirty kilometers, is the Jezreel Valley.” The camera panned the vast expanse as the reporter continued. “It’s this commanding view of the valley and the two major trade routes[222] that passed through it, that made Megiddo a point of strategic importance in the ancient Middle East, and the scene of numerous battles between 3000 and 400 b.p.e.[223] It was here in 1460 b.p.e. that the Egyptian pharaoh Thutmose III led a successful preemptive strike against the princes of Megiddo and Kadesh to establish the western border of his empire at the Euphrates River.
“And it’s here that New Testament prophecy said the final battle was to be fought.[224]
“Ironically,” the reporter continued as the camera focused again on her, “the valley beneath the mountain of Megiddo, or Har Mageddon, does figure into what is touted as a final battle of sorts — a battle that even more ironically promises to bring to a conclusion both the religion that spawned the prophecy and even the religion that spawned the religion — but it’s unlikely that either this mountain or the valley below will see any fighting. Instead the site has been chosen as the staging ground for what is expected to be by far the largest mobilization of international military forces in all of history. Soon military units from more than 190 member countries of the United Nations will gather here.”
The video feed went to a taped shot of a UN Corps of Engineers division marking out portions of the valley as the reporter’s voice continued.
“Already, advanced logistical teams are surveying the valley, and by tomorrow night trucks will deliver mess tents and sanitary facilities for the ground troops that are expected to begin arriving within five days.
“Although actual numbers haven’t yet been made public,” she continued as the clip ended and the camera returned live to her, “it’s estimated that within two weeks this valley will shelter well in excess of six million troops. From here, some time in mid-month, the UN forces will move south past Jerusalem and will cross the border into Jordan and advance to the area around the KDP stronghold of Petra. There they’ll be joined by additional units coming from India, Korea, China, Thailand, Mongolia, Japan and other countries in the east. It is at Petra that the actual battle will be fought — and fought by what Secretary General Christopher Goodman has explained will be very unconventional methods.”
Thursday, September 10, 4 N.A.
Nine miles southwest of Babylon
The wheels of the small truck rolled on, bringing the two men closer with each rotation to a confrontation, which, if they were discovered, would end in their deaths. Ed Blocher looked in the mirror one more time at the mark on his forehead. It looked real, so real it was difficult to tell how much of the churning in his stomach was due to nervousness and how much was the result of being sickened by the sight of it on his face. He looked over at his co conspirator, Joel Felsberg, who was driving.
Joel seemed so confident. He had done this all before. His confidence was reassuring, but not enough to ease Blocher’s anxiety.
Even at this distance, they could see the great city ahead of them, its walls 120 feet high and 18 feet thick, a replica of what in the earliest accounts[225] had been considered one of the seven wonders of the ancient world, and forming a perfect square fourteen miles on each side, which encompassed the city. Inside the walls was everything Blocher detested, everything that his faith told him was sinful and corrupt.
And yet, behind those same walls there were some who still served Yahweh — people who had come here seeking work before the mark became mandatory and who afterward were unable to leave. A few were hidden in attics or basements by relatives who, though they had taken the mark and sworn allegiance to Christopher, were still reluctant to turn in members of their families. Most, however, slept in alleys and tunnels, hiding in sewers and recesses and behind crags along the river. They lived on scraps and garbage, insects and rats. The police caught as many as they could, but some still remained. It was to these that Blocher and Felsberg hoped to get this shipment of food and medicine.
They approached the checkpoint right on schedule, a little before 6:00 P.M., when the guards would change. The sentinels they would encounter had been working all day in the heat and were ready to be relieved. They were less likely to perform a thorough check than the security personnel coming on duty a few minutes later.
Joel Felsberg pulled the truck to a stop at the checkpoint and rolled down his window to hand the guard his manifest. The guard gave a cursory glance, saw that the two men inside both bore the mark on their foreheads, and took the manifest. It would have taken only a quick scan of the marks to reveal that they were counterfeit, but that was an extra hassle and the guards used the scanner only if there was something suspicious. Their real responsibility was not to keep people or shipments out of the city, but to arrest anyone without the mark who tried to leave.
“I’ll need you to open up the back,” the sentry said as he verified the registration of the truck and manifest on his hand held link. It was a good system but not so foolproof that Joel Felsberg couldn’t get into the network and add a few numbers or manifest records that weren’t supposed to be there.
Joel got out and walked around to the back of the truck and opened it. The guard glanced in at the wooden crates of produce and climbed up on the bumper to have a better look. As long as he didn’t make them unload the truck, there wouldn’t be a problem. The medicine they carried, mostly tetracycline and metronidazole for dysentery, would give away their true purpose — for people in Babylon who had the mark and had taken the communion had no need for such medicines.
“Where’s this from?” the guard asked about the produce, though its origin was clearly entered on the manifest and stenciled on the crates.
“Ash Shinafiyah,” Joel answered, referring to the area southwest of the city in which much of Babylon’s food was grown. Inside the truck’s cab, Ed Blocher tried to stay as calm as possible.
“And where’s it going?” the guard asked, though that too was on the manifest.
“The UN cafeteria,” Felsberg answered.
“You think they’ll miss a couple of these melons?” he asked as he picked one from the top of a crate.
“I suppose they won’t miss one or two,” he answered.
“Okay,” the guard said, taking a second melon. “It looks like everything’s in order.”
Ed Blocher heaved a sigh of relief even as he braced himself for what would greet him. The city itself was beautiful, well laid out for both vehicular and foot traffic. While it was in every way a modern city, in design the architecture of the buildings maintained an artistic theme of historical Babylon.
Rising fifty-nine stories at the city center stood the United Nations Secretariat building, by design the tallest structure in Babylon. Encircling the Secretariat and standing eighteen stories was the General Assembly building, joined to the taller structure by glass-enclosed corridors at several levels, and sharing a central courtyard. Radiating out still farther were the offices of the ten world regions, together covering a forty-two acre central complex of parks.
As the seat of government, the city had immediately drawn the offices of the major banks and multinational corporations,[226] and construction was evident everywhere. But with so many of its citizens gone to participate in the eradication of the Cult of Yahweh, traffic in the city was extremely light and construction was at a standstill.
Though the city structure was an entirely modern metropolis in a Babylonian motif, it was in every other way a truly multi-national city.[227] Restaurants and grocers of every variety served the palatal preferences and cuisines of the city’s multi-cultural citizens and visitors, and merchants sold an endless variety of goods and services.[228] Traditional attire of every region of the world was a common site, as was no attire at all for those who so chose. Bars and clubs catering to every conceivable sexual appetite were plentiful as well.[229] Signs announced the availability of men, women and children being sold or selling themselves to satisfy the most perverse whims of anyone able to pay.[230]
And, too, as the first city of the New Age,[231] artists and artisans provided public works inspired by the bright expectations of the future that Christopher promised. Giant murals on the sides of buildings depicted scenes ranging from Eve’s emancipation from Yahweh to vistas of the Theatan homeworld as described by individual spirit guides to their hosts. Sculptures filled the parks, as did park-goers, some engaged in activities from which Ed Blocher chose to avert his eyes. He shook his head both in awe of the beauty and wealth and in disgust at all that he knew to be unholy.
Stopping at a traffic light as they entered a large shopping plaza, Ed looked up at the massive live-net screens on the sides of several buildings, which displayed an uninterrupted blood fest of executions and torture from the involuntary life completion centers. Nearby, and wearing only shoes and the jewels around their necks and wrists and ankles and in their various piercings, a group of several women laughed and chatted as they watched the decapitations while they window shopped. It was no longer necessary to desensitize the masses to the deaths of the fundamentalists. The tolerance of most was imperturbable, the appetite of others, insatiable.[232]