Judgment: Wrath of the Lamb

by Brian Godawa

  Jacob understood what the Two Witnesses were claiming, and it was scandalous to the Jewish mind. Their argument was that Jesus had reorganized the people of God around himself as the faithful Israelite. Jesus was the Israel of God in whom all the promises to Israel were fulfilled. The “resurrection” of Israel out of their continuing exile was fulfilled in Jesus’s resurrection from the dead. Those who believed in Jesus were included in that resurrection because of their life-giving faith from the Holy Spirit. Jesus had said that the dead were already coming alive spiritually as they heard the Gospel of salvation. But one day there would be a bodily resurrection of both the wicked and the righteous, which would be the final harvest.

  Jacob waited until the Witnesses were finished with their sermon before he approached them with his urgent request.

  Moshe and Elihu looked at him cautiously. He had been their enemy all these years, but he had also helped the women and children and orphans of the city by overseeing the hospital in the hippodrome. Jacob had helped the doctor Alexander to accomplish his medical mission of aiding the suffering citizens. So the Witnesses had an uneasy alliance with Jacob.

  “What is wrong?” asked Elihu.

  “Alexander Maccabaeus needs your help.”

  • • • • •

  Alexander had set up an infirmary for Gischala’s soldiers in the upper story of the royal portico on the southern wall of the temple mount. Its location was on the side of the temple complex least likely to be attacked. He had organized for over three hundred beds and as many supplies as could be gathered. Gischala had two other doctors who supported the rebels’ cause and Alexander was able to gain the general’s approval of a dozen or more volunteers from his army to train in medical assistance.

  Alexander would not turn down a request to help anyone who was wounded, be they civilian or soldier, Herodian or Zealot. His calling was to heal.

  But his heart was with the hippodrome. He couldn’t help but think of how the innocent would suffer without adequate help. His assistants would be able to keep the wounded and sick for a time, but when the casualties of war started, they would become overwhelmed. And his surgery skills would be desperately needed. The truth was, he cared most for the civilians and innocents of the city. He prayed that God would release him to return there. He prayed for a miracle as he checked the bandage on the arm of a wounded soldier. There were twenty of them from previous battles at various stages of need. Some had lost or broken limbs. Others had stab wounds, lacerations, and contusions.

  “Doctor,” came a voice behind him. Alexander turned from the patient to see Gischala looking pale and nervous.

  “I am releasing you to return to the hippodrome.”

  “Why?” asked Alexander. He immediately realized that his surprise might sound like he was complaining. Gischala just didn’t look right in his disposition.

  “You’ve set up the infirmary here, and I’m sure our doctors can take it over with competence. I want to thank you for your concern and help.”

  Alexander picked up his pack of tools and personal effects and followed Gischala down the stairs to the Huldah Gates.

  The warrior was acting so strange—as though he was going to spring a trap—Alexander wondered if Gischala might be planning to execute the doctor. But why would he do such a thing?

  What was going on? What had gotten into the general? Why was he acting like a frightened soldier following someone else’s orders?

  When Alexander exited the gates, he saw Moshe and Elihu were waiting for him. Was this the answer to his questions? Alexander turned to look back at Gischala, who had stopped and appeared to stand back protectively inside the gates. The general gestured with open arms to the Two Witnesses as if to indicate he was releasing Alexander into their arms.

  Alexander looked back at Moshe and Elihu, confused. The Two Witnesses had smiles on their lips. Why? Gischala hated these two with everything in him. He had sought their secret from Alexander in order to get rid of them. And now he was releasing the doctor to them like a gift.

  Or was it a ransom?

  The two prophets hugged him. Elihu said, “Let’s get you back to the hippodrome. The sick and wounded need you.”

  Alexander knew something very serious must have occurred to cause Gischala, a warrior of fearless zeal and violence, to hand over an important hostage to his hated opponents.

  As they walked back to the arena, he asked the Witnesses, “What did you do to persuade Gischala to release me? He wanted you dead.”

  The two prophets looked at each other as if to consider how much to tell him.

  Moshe finally said, “I’m surprised at you, Alexander. By now I would think you would know we don’t do anything. It’s Yahweh who persuades.”

  Elihu added impishly, “We’re just messengers.”

  Moshe concluded, “Though it did have something to do with a little fire from heaven.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Simon and Aaron stood on the battlement of the northwestern wall near the tower of Psephinus and the northwestern gates. The sun was low on the horizon, and they could see smoke rising from the cooking fires of the Roman camp, just a mile away protected by its own wall and guard. Simon had been alerted by the Romans that there was to be an offer of terms.

  This will be interesting.

  Aaron nudged him and pointed down by the wall. Simon saw three men on horses followed by a contingent of perhaps a hundred cavalry. The horsemen cantered along the wall as if examining the structure. They were within arrow striking distance.102

  Then Simon saw who the three leaders were. “Josephus and Herod Agrippa,” he said with surprise. “Is that…?”

  “Titus Caesar,” said Aaron. The general was riding a white stallion.

  Simon felt his teeth clench tight.

  “Strange,” added Aaron. “He has no armor or helmet on.”

  Simon said, “He risks safety for his pride.”

  Archers along the parapet prepared arrows. Simon waved his hand to hold them back. He wanted to hear what the Roman beast was going to offer.

  Titus and his squad arrived at the tower and halted.

  Josephus was the one who called out, “Where is Simon bar Giora?”

  “I am here!” Simon shouted back, now standing tall to be seen.

  Titus locked eyes with the Jewish general. Even at this distance, Simon felt like they were in each other’s face, each daring the other to attack. Could Titus sense Simon’s burning hatred? Did Titus know the pain he’d caused this once-devout, once-loyal captain of the temple guard? Herod knew. Bernice knew. This monster had to know.

  Josephus shouted again, “I am Joseph ben Matthias, former general of the Galilean forces and captive of Rome. I am here to offer you Caesar’s generous terms!”

  Aaron muttered sarcastically, “How like a god, this Caesar.”

  Simon smirked. “And Joseph, his prophet.”

  Josephus continued, “Surrender the city now and spare the lives of all. Caesar has no desire to pollute the holy city or temple. But if he is resisted, he will do as he wills.”103

  “Blasphemer!” Aaron spat out.

  Josephus continued, “I swear to you that he is merciful and true to his word as he has been to me.”

  Josephus stopped as though expecting a reply of some kind. But Simon decided to remain silent. He wanted to intimidate his opponent. To speak was to reveal. Simon wanted to conceal.

  Agrippa joined in on the pleading. “Simon, you cannot win this war. You will lose. All the Land is beneath the boot of Rome. Would you preside over the desolation of the holy city as well?”

  “No! But you would, traitors!” Aaron yelled out.

  Josephus responded, “I am no traitor to my people. I am here to testify to you of Caesar’s grace toward us. I believe that God has gone over to the Romans and is chastising Israel for her disobedience. But there is still time to repent. To turn away wrath!”

  He paused before adding deliberately. “Thousands of innocent Jew
s have already been killed or captured. I beg of you, Simon, do not let thousands more die.”

  Josephus stopped again. Again, Simon said nothing. He stared at Titus with all the hatred in his soul.

  Josephus concluded, “All Caesar asks is that you consider his proposal by meeting with him in person with your council for negotiation. What is your response?”

  Simon said nothing. Instead, he and Aaron slid down ropes and mounted their horses, left ready at the interior base of the city wall.

  Josephus saw the gates opening. He glanced at Titus. Was Simon more reasonable than the fanatics Gischala or Eleazar?

  A legionary shouted out, “Caesar! Behind us!”

  Josephus turned. A sizeable contingent of Jewish horsemen had snuck out from somewhere—perhaps a secret gate in the city wall—and had managed to place themselves between the Roman cavalry and their camp. Josephus panicked. He jerked a look back to see that the northwest city gates were now open enough for another contingent of horsemen to charge out, launching an attack on Titus and his men. They were wedged before and behind.

  Josephus noticed that Simon was leading the attack force that had emerged from the city gates.

  Titus yelled, “Retreat!”

  The Roman cavalrymen turned about and faced head on the Jewish warriors that were behind them. They clashed in battle.

  Titus cut through the Jews with his sword upon his mighty white steed. The man was like a windmill of fury. His lack of armor made him more agile. But it also made him more vulnerable.

  The archers on the wall released a volley of arrows at the fleeing Romans.

  But they were too late. Titus and his cavalry were well on their way back to the safety of their camp, and Titus had escaped unscathed.104

  Simon and his men met with the other contingent who awaited his command. “Let them go. He has my answer.”

  “Simon,” called Aaron, sitting nearby on his horse. He gestured to the northern side of the wall behind them.

  A fourth contingent of horsemen now entered the field, racing toward Simon and his men. But they weren’t Roman, and they weren’t Simon’s men.

  “Gischala!” yelled Aaron.

  Simon shouted, “Engage the enemy!”

  His horsemen turned to do so, but they didn’t have the time to get mobile. Gischala’s forces hit them like a wave.

  The sheer force of a cavalry attack was overwhelming on whomever was on the receiving side. Horses crashed into one another. Swords and spears clashed between Jews.

  Simon found Gischala in the battle about fifty feet away. He thought as if to project to his opponent, If this ambush is your idea of our final confrontation, so be it. This will be your death.

  Gischala turned toward Simon as if he had heard his rival’s thoughts. The two men began working their way through the battle with intent fixed upon one another. Simon’s attention was taken by an attacking Zealot with spear. He dodged it, grabbed the shaft, pulled the soldier close, and plunged his sword into his chest.

  When Simon looked back up, Gischala was almost upon him. But before they could meet, Gischala’s horse was pierced with a lance, and he fell to the ground.

  Simon dismounted. He wanted to face this creature man-to-man and see his face as his life bled out of him. In the past, Gischala had been a superior fighter to Simon. He had even taught him a move or two. But Simon had survived in the wilderness for years now and had gained much battle experience that was superior to his sparring practice of the past. All the bitterness of Gischala’s betrayal boiled over into a force of strength in Simon’s arms.

  He would cut Gischala down and spit on his corpse.

  The two warriors were now within twenty feet of each other. Simon felt something hit his leather armor from behind. He spun around, sword raised, but no one was there. He turned back to face his nemesis.

  Gischala had rolled away from his fallen horse and was back on his feet. He glanced over at Simon, then yelled to one of his soldiers on a horse. The soldier galloped up to Gischala, and the general jumped onto the horse behind the rider. They galloped away. A horn blew, and Gischala’s men followed him back into the secret gate out of which they came.

  Cockroach, thought Simon. He mounted his horse.

  Aaron was there. “Shall we give chase?”

  “No,” ordered Simon. They would return to the walls and regroup.

  Aaron lifted his horn and blew.

  Then he raised his eyebrows in concern and pointed to Simon’s shoulder. “Do you know you have an arrow sticking in your back, general?”

  Simon turned his head to see the arrow sticking in his leather backplate up on his left shoulder blade. Suddenly, he felt the pain of it. He had been so focused on the battle that he’d hardly realized he was hit. A random arrow accidentally released from his own side.

  “That would have been a disadvantage,” said Simon. The smallest thought entered his mind that Gischala’s fleeing might have saved his life.

  Aaron said, “We had better get that taken care of.”

  This was the first skirmish of the siege. Simon considered it a taste of what was to come. He would have to be very strategic to win this war on two fronts: the war without and the war within.

  Or maybe he wouldn’t make it past this battle. He suddenly realized that the arrow he’d been hit with must have been poisoned. He swooned and fell to the ground in a drugged stupor.

  CHAPTER 27

  Jerusalem

  Alexander and his Christian assistants rushed around the hippodrome tending to the needs of the sick and dying. Because of the earlier destruction of the city’s food silos by warring factions, food rations had been cut in half for everyone. The Romans had confiscated all the farms outside Jerusalem and blocked any access from the citizens to leave the city. The first to fall sick and begin dying from malnutrition were the elderly.

  Within the week, hundreds of them filled beds in the sick partition of the hippodrome. Dozens had already died. Alexander did all he could to care for them and comfort them before their end. He had no extra rations, and there was no medicine to cure hunger. He knew this was going to get worse. Much worse.

  Alexander heard the announcement of the arrival of some men wounded in a skirmish. He ran to the entrance to see a dozen soldiers entering the stadium. He recognized General Simon bar Giora being held up by the young Essene warrior monk Aaron ben Hyam.

  Aaron’s look at Alexander was not pleasant. They had last met on the road to Jerusalem. where Alexander and Cassandra had shared the Gospel with the young monk. Aaron had reacted in anger and impatience with Cassandra’s zeal.

  Alexander barked to his assistants, “Help these soldiers and let me know if there is any surgery needed.” He turned back to Aaron and Simon. “What is wrong with the general?”

  Simon looked dizzy, but he could still speak for himself. “I’ve been hit with a poisoned arrow.”

  “Follow me,” said Alexander. He rushed the general over to his drug tent at the closest end of the arena.

  Alexander asked him, “Was it a Roman arrow?”

  “No,” said Simon. “An accident. My archers. So I know it’s viper’s poison.”

  They arrived at a small tent with some beds arranged outside it. Alexander said, “Sit on this bed and remove your tunic and wrapping of the wound. I’ll be right back.”

  He went into the tent to retrieve a device he had made based on the Roman physician Celsus’s medical research.

  Alexander came back out to see Simon bare-chested on the bed. The doctor looked at his shoulder where the arrow had hit him.

  Simon said, “The wound itself is not deep. My armor protected me.”

  The general was right, Alexander saw. The wound wasn’t deep. But it was discolored and agitated from the poison.

  Alexander explained what he was doing. “This is a suction cup device that will suck out the venom from the wound. It will be too late to get it all, but hopefully enough to help you.”105

  “I’ve
already been bitten by vipers in the desert,” Simon said. “My body is used to it.”

  Alexander placed the little bronze cup device over the arrow wound. “You’ll feel some discomfort as the cup sucks blood and venom out.” He pulled a plunger device attached to the cup, and Simon winced at the pain.

  “I need to do this several times,” said the doctor. He withdrew the plunger and pulled up the cup. It had some blood in it that he dumped on the ground before returning to plunging and sucking.

  When Alexander had finished, Simon rose to his feet. “Thank you for your help, doctor. I need to return to my men.” But as he started to leave, he stumbled like a drunk. Aaron caught him.

  Alexander said, “You are not leaving yet, General. You may have some tolerance to the poison, but enough of it got into your system to cause you problems. Please, just rest here until evening. I want to keep an eye on you to make sure no other complications arise.”

  “My men need me,” said Simon.

  “And they won’t have you alive if you act foolishly and don’t follow my directions.”

  Simon sat back down. Aaron smiled. “Doctor, you’ve accomplished what no other man has been able to with this stubborn rock badger.”

  Alexander said, “Let us pray I am able to do what no other man can do with your fellow wounded soldiers. If you’ll excuse me, I have some surgeries to attend to.”

  Alexander left them and returned to the other wounded men.

  Most of the injuries were manageable except a sword wound that had slashed deep into one soldier’s torso. Alexander had fed the victim some opium poppies to ease the tremendous pain of placing his bowels back in place and searing his laceration with a red-hot iron.106 Despite the anesthesia, the scream of the poor soldier echoed through the stadium.

  He died shortly after.

  Alexander finished his duties by the end of the day. The sun was going down, and he decided to make a visit to Simon.