Failing to arouse a positive response, one by one the others ceased their refrain and quickly took their seats as well, hoping that their indiscreet behavior might be overlooked. Within seconds only the first man remained standing. Being the first and therefore the most conspicuous, he was committed to the attempt and, hoping that some variation of his chant might yet evoke the desired effect, he briefly tried several variations. Still floundering, his voice seemed to fail as he stood there dripping with nervous perspiration.
Ian didn’t look at him, nor did the others. No one wanted to be associated with him. The intense anxiety of the man’s situation found its way to his stomach and he was gripped by uncontrollable nausea and began vomiting his lunch onto the stage. The scene had apparently amused the guards who had let it go this far, but now one grabbed the man’s hair and jerked him back into his seat.
A moment later a car arrived, and someone called the soldiers to attention as a much decorated United Nations general with French insignia got out of the car and approached the reviewing stand. He was followed by a military aide and two other men in civilian clothes. Coming up the steps, the general went directly to the lectern to address the troops. The older of the two men in civilian clothes turned and faced Ian and the others and announced that he would be their translator.
The general gave a command, which the translator didn’t relay but which obviously was calling the soldiers to at ease. He then began in earnest.
“As you are no doubt aware,” the translator relayed, “over the next four weeks most of you will be deployed to the Middle East for what we believe will be a relatively short but strategically critical mission. I am certain that all of you will perform in a manner that will bring honor to this battalion and to France.
“As you know, each of you has recently acquired certain abilities which Secretary General Goodman has said will be vital to the coming conflict.”
Ian and his companions had been weeks without communication from the outside and so were unaware of the three signs. Nor had they received the benefit of the signs themselves except that most hadn’t gotten the sores since receiving the mark, and of those who had, the lesions were only minor. Thus they did not understand the nature of the recently acquired abilities to which the general referred.
“It’s no secret that our mission will be to bring down the walls of Petra upon our enemies. We anticipate, however, that some will escape the destruction. Mr. Warren Sardon,” the general continued as he motioned toward the younger man in civilian clothes, “who has just arrived from UN headquarters in Babylon, has come to demonstrate how your new abilities can be used when dealing with the KDP enemy in a one on one situation. I haven’t seen this myself,” the general added, “so I’m looking forward to this as much as the rest of you.” The general stepped away from the lectern and Sardon approached.
“Thank you, General Sonnier,” Sardon said. “I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.” Then turning to the troops, he began. “With the help of the volunteers behind me,” he said, obviously referring to Ian and the others. “We will . . .”
Sardon continued speaking but Ian didn’t hear him. His words no longer mattered. There was now no doubt: Ian understood that he was about to die.
The man stopped speaking and signaled to the guards to bring forward one of Ian’s companions. “Now, like the rest of you,” Sardon continued, addressing the soldiers, “I’d much rather do this to one of the KDP, but since we don’t have any KDP available,” he joked, “these men and women have agreed to help us with our demonstration. For those who may feel uneasy with this, let me note that all of these volunteers were, until recently, in collaboration with the fundamentalists. While they did accept the communion and the mark rather than face le rasoir national,[184] we and they have concluded that for their own betterment, they should be freed of the negative memories of this lifetime and be allowed to convey into their next incarnation with a clean slate.”
The guards went directly to the man who had vomited. “No! No!” he cried, as they pulled him to the front.
“It appears our first volunteer is having second thoughts,” Sardon chuckled. The man was dragged weeping to a point about six feet to Sardon’s left on the stage. To silence him, one of the guards finally held a gun to his head.
“Can everyone see okay?” Sardon asked. When he was satisfied all could see, he continued. “In the technique I’m about to demonstrate, I’m going to use both telekinetic power and, to aid in visualization and concentration, I’ll use my hand in a corresponding physical action. While it’s not necessary to use the physical aid, it is recommended, at least at first.”
With this, Sardon stepped from the lectern, turned and faced the still whimpering “volunteer,” standing about six feet away. Focusing his full attention on the man, he extended his right hand. Then, concentrating as he visualized the man’s heart, he slowly squeezed.
The volunteer abruptly ceased both his whimpering and his breathing as his face convulsed into a grotesque expression of pain. He would have collapsed altogether, but Sardon prolonged the performance and now used his telekinetic ability to hold the man erect so that no one would miss the demonstration.
Sardon closed his fingers tighter and began a slow twisting action, as the man’s head was thrown back, his body went limp, and blood began to pour from his mouth. Finally, when the man was obviously dead, Sardon released his telekinetic grip and let the body drop to the stage.
It was an impressive display and General Sonnier couldn’t help but applaud, which let the soldiers know it was alright to do likewise. Sardon appreciated the show of approval.
“Now,” he said, when the applause died down, “while we’d like to provide each of you with an opportunity to try this yourselves, we unfortunately have a limited number of volunteers. What we’re going to do then is select. . . Let’s see . . .” he said, interrupting himself long enough to turn and count how many ‘volunteers’ he had, “. . . eighteen, nineteen. Just nineteen?” he asked disappointedly, to no one in particular.
There was some confusion on the reviewing stand, and then General Sonnier advised that eighty-seven additional volunteers would be arriving momentarily.
“Wonderful!” Sardon said.
“Okay,” he continued, turning back to the troops, “we’ll select nineteen of you to come up and try it yourselves one at a time. I’ll stay here to comment and offer direction. Then the remainder of the volunteers can be divided among the individual units.”
Chapter 21
Dayenu
Saturday, August 29, 4 N.A.
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.”
The Christ Clone Trilogy - Book Three: ACTS OF GOD (Revised & Expanded) Page 32