Apollyon

by Tim LaHaye

  Rayford’s faith in Amanda had been restored, and he had never doubted her salvation. Even when he had been forced to wonder about how she had come to him in the first place, he never questioned the genuineness of her devotion to God.

  Rayford helped Hattie lie back down. “I’ll get you something to eat,” he said. “And then we’re going to talk about you.”

  “Spare me that, Rayford. You and your friends have been doing that for two years. There’s nothing you can tell me that I don’t know. But I just told you what I have done, and there’s even more that’s worse than that.”

  “You know God will forgive you.”

  She nodded. “But should he? I don’t believe that in my heart.”

  “Of course he shouldn’t. None of us deserves forgiveness.”

  “But you accepted it anyway,” she said. “I can’t do that. I know as well as God does that I’m not worthy.”

  “So you’re going to decide for him.”

  “If it’s up to me—”

  “And it is.”

  “I’ve decided I’m unworthy and can’t live with that much, um, what do you call it?”

  “Grace?”

  “Well, I guess, but I mean there’s too much of a gap between what may be true and what should be true.”

  “Inequity.”

  “That’s it. God saving me when he and I both know who I am and what I’ve done—that’s too much of an inequity.”

  At quarter to five in the afternoon at Chaim Rosenzweig’s estate, Tsion asked Buck and Chloe to join him in his room. Buck smiled, noticing the ever-present laptop on a small table. The three knelt by the bed. “We will pray with the committee at the stadium,” Tsion said. “But in case the rush of the details gets in the way, I do not want to start the meeting without seeking the Lord.”

  “May I ask,” Chloe said, “what message you sent back to Mr. Fortunato?”

  “I merely told Chaim that I would neither acknowledge nor recognize Nicolae. Neither will I introduce him or ask anyone else to. If he comes to the platform, I will not stand in his way.” Tsion smiled wearily. “As you might expect, Chaim argued earnestly, warning me not to commit such an affront to the potentate. But how can I do otherwise? I will not say what I would like to say, will not rally the believers to express their distaste for him, will not expose him for who I know him to be. That is the best I can do.”

  Chloe nodded. “When do you expect the witnesses?”

  “I should think they are beginning to arrive even now.”

  “I mean Eli and Moishe.”

  “Oh! I have left that with the Lord. They said they would be there, and the conference extends to two more whole days and nights. You can be sure I will gladly welcome them to the platform whenever they choose to appear.”

  Buck never failed to be moved by the heartfelt prayers of Dr. Ben-Judah. He had seen the rabbi at the lowest point of grief a man could bear, reeling from the slaughter of his wife and two teenagers. He had heard him pray in the midst of terror, certain he would be apprehended on a midnight flight from Israel. Now, as Tsion looked forward to uniting with tens of thousands of new brothers and sisters in Christ from all twelve tribes of Israel and from all over the world, he was on his knees in humility.

  “God, our Father,” he began, “thank you for the privilege we are about to enjoy. On the front lines of battle we advance with your boldness, under your power and protection. These precious saints will be hungry to learn more of your Word. Give the other teachers and me the words. May we say what you would have us say, and may they hear what you want them to hear.”

  Buck was deep in his own prayer when a tap at the door interrupted them. “Forgive me, Tsion,” Chaim said. “A GC escort is here.”

  “But I thought Jacov would drive us—”

  “He will. But they tell us you have to leave immediately if you hope to reach the stadium in time.”

  “But it is so close!”

  “Nevertheless. Traffic is already so thick that only the GC escort can ensure you will get there on time.”

  “Have you decided to come with us, Chaim?”

  “I will be watching on television. I have asked Jacov to load a case of bottled water for you. Those two preachers at the Wall have taken credit for blood in the drinking water again. Though it supposedly has cleared since the visitors began arriving, you never know. Westerners should not risk our tap water anyway.”

  The GC escort proved to be two Jeeps with flashing yellow lights, each vehicle carrying four armed guards who merely stared at the Tribulation Force as they climbed into the Mercedes van. “Another bit of one-upmanship from Carpathia,” Chloe said.

  “If he was smart,” Tsion said, “he would have left us to our own devices and let us be late.”

  “You would not have been late,” Jacov said in his thick accent. “I would have gotten you there on time anyway.”

  Buck had never seen—even in New York—traffic like this. Every artery to the stadium was jammed with cars and pedestrians. Neither had he seen so many happy faces since before the Rapture. Carrying satchels and notebooks and water bottles, the pedestrians hurried along with earnest and determined looks. Many made better time than the cars and vans and buses.

  Because of the conspicuous escort, the crowds recognized that the Mercedes carried Tsion Ben-Judah. They waved and shouted and gleefully pounded on doors and windows. The trailing GC vehicle shooed them away with warnings over a loudspeaker and by brandishing their automatic weapons.

  “I hate to appear to be here under the aegis of the Global Community,” Tsion said.

  “They don’t know the shortcuts anyway,” Jacov said. “All three of these vehicles are equipped to go off-road.”

  “You know a faster way?” Tsion said. “Take it!”

  “May I?”

  “They won’t open fire. They’ll have to scramble just to keep up.”

  Jacov whipped the wheel to the left, flew down and up a ditch in the median, picked his way through crawling cars on the other side, and headed toward open fields. The GC Jeeps blew their sirens and bounced crazily behind him. The lead car finally caught up and pulled ahead, the driver pointing out the window and shouting at Jacov in Hebrew.

  “He says to never do that again,” Tsion said. “But I rather enjoyed it.”

  Jacov slammed on the brakes, and the trailing Jeep tore up grass stopping short of him. Jacov opened his door and stood with his head high above the roofline. The lead driver finally noticed he was leaving Jacov and slid to a stop. He waited at first, then backed up as Jacov shouted, “Unless you want trouble for making us late, you will follow me!”

  Tsion looked gleefully at Chloe. “What is it your father is so fond of saying?”

  “Lead, follow, or get out of the way.”

  As Jacov led the angry GC drivers to the stadium, it quickly became obvious that many more than twenty-five thousand hoped to get in. “Do we have monitors outside?” Tsion said.

  Buck nodded. “The overflow was supposed to go to several off-site locations, but it appears they all want to stay here.”

  Having been shown up by Jacov, the GC soldiers leaped from their vehicles and insisted on escorting the little entourage inside the stadium. They scowled at Jacov, who told Buck he would be waiting in the van where he had dropped them off.

  “Can you see a monitor?” Buck asked, looking around.

  Jacov pointed to one about twenty feet away. “And I can listen on the radio.”

  “Does this interest you?”

  “Very much. I find it confusing, but I have long been suspicious of the potentate, even though Dr. Rosenzweig admires him. And your teacher is such a wise and gentle man.”

  “Did you see him on television when he—”

  “Everyone did, sir.”

  “Then this isn’t totally new to you. We’ll talk later.”

  Inside, the local committee was ecstatic. Buck loved hearing group prayer in English, Hebrew, and a few other languages he co
uldn’t identify. All over the room he heard “Jesus the Messiah” and “Jesu Cristo” and “Yeshua Hamashiach.”

  On his knees next to Chloe, Buck felt her strong grip. She laid her head on his shoulder. “Oh, Buck,” she said, “this is like heaven.”

  He whispered, “And we haven’t even started.”

  As the stadium filled, shouts and chants resounded. “What are they saying?” Buck said.

  “‘Hallelujah,’ and ‘Praise the Lord,’” someone said. “And they’re spelling out the name of Jesus.”

  The master of ceremonies, Daniel, addressed the group as the clock sped toward seven. “As you know, the program is simple. I will give a brief welcome and then open in prayer. I will lead in the singing of ‘Amazing Grace,’ and I will then introduce Dr. Ben-Judah. He will preach and teach for as long as he feels led. You twelve translators should have your copy of Dr. Ben-Judah’s notes and know which of the microphones at the base of the stage is yours.”

  “And remember,” Tsion said quietly, “I cannot guarantee I will follow the script. I will try not to get ahead of you.”

  People in the room nodded solemnly, and many looked at their watches. Buck heard the rumble of chants and singing above and was as excited as he had ever been. “All these people are our brothers and sisters,” he told Chloe.

  Three minutes before seven, as Tsion stood apart from the others, head bowed, a young man rushed in. “The other venues are empty!” he said. “Everyone is here. Everyone had the same idea!”

  “How many?” someone asked.

  “More than fifty thousand surrounding the stadium,” he said, “at least twice as many outside as in. And they are not all witnesses. They are not even all Jewish. People are just curious.”

  Daniel raised his hands, and the room fell silent. “Follow me down this corridor, up the ramp, then up the stairs to the stage. You can watch from the wings, but translators go first and get into position at ground level in front of the platform. No one on the stage but Dr. Ben-Judah and me. Quiet please. Dear God in heaven, we are yours.”

  With one hand still raised, he and Tsion led the group toward the back of the stage. Buck peeked out to see every seat filled and people in the aisles and the infield. Many held hands. Others wrapped their arms around each other’s shoulders and sang and swayed.

  The interpreters slipped out and down the steps to get into position, and the crowd quieted. At seven, Daniel strode to a simple, wood lectern and said, “Welcome my brothers and sisters in the name of the Lord God Almighty, . . .”

  He paused for the interpreters, but before they could translate, the stadium erupted in cheering and applause. Daniel was taken aback and smiled apologetically at the translators. “I’ll wait for you,” he mouthed, as the thousands continued to cheer.

  When the applause finally died, he nodded to the interpreters, and they repeated his phrase. “No! No!” came the response from the crowd. “Nein!” “Nyet!”

  Daniel continued, “. . . maker of heaven and earth, . . .” And again the crowd erupted. He waited for the translation, but they shouted it down again.

  “. . . and his Son, Jesus Christ, the Messiah!”

  The crowd went wild, and an aide hurried to the stage. “Please!” Daniel scolded him. “No one on the stage except—”

  “No translation is necessary!” the aide shouted. “Don’t use the interpreters! The crowd understands you in their own languages, and they want you to just keep going!”

  As the crowd continued to exult, Daniel stepped to the front of the stage and beckoned the translators to gather before him. “You’re not needed!” he said, smiling. As they dispersed, looking surprised but pleased, he went back to the microphone. “Shall we express our appreciation to these who were willing—”

  Thunderous ovations rolled out of the stands.

  Finally Daniel held up his hands to quiet the crowd. Every phrase from then on was greeted with resounding cheers. “You don’t need to be told why you’re here!” he said. “We’ve long been known as God’s chosen people, but how about this? Would you pray with me?”

  Silence descended quickly. Many knelt. “Father, we are grateful for having been spared by your grace and love. You are indeed the God of new beginnings and second chances. We are about to hear from our beloved rabbi, and our prayer is that you would supernaturally quicken our hearts and minds to absorb every jot and tittle of what you have given him to say. We pray this in the matchless name of the King of kings and Lord of lords. Amen.”

  A huge “Amen!” echoed from the crowd. Daniel directed the massive congregation as he began to sing quietly, “Amazing grace! how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me! I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see.”

  Buck could not sing. “Amazing Grace” had become his favorite hymn, a poignant picture of his faith. But twenty-five thousand believers singing it from their hearts nearly knocked him over. The mass outside added their voices. Buck and Chloe stood weeping at the beauty of it.

  “When we’ve been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun, we’ve no less days to sing God’s praise than when we’d first begun.”

  As the final strains trailed off, Daniel asked the crowd to sit. “The vast majority of us know our speaker tonight only as a name on our computer screens,” he began. “It is my honor—”

  But the assembled had come to their feet en masse, cheering, clapping, shouting, whistling. Daniel tried to quiet them, but finally shrugged and walked away as Tsion, embarrassed, hesitated. He was nudged from the wings, and the cacophony deafened Buck. He and Chloe clapped too, honoring their personal pastor and mentor. Never had Buck felt so privileged to be part of the Tribulation Force and to know this man.

  Tsion stood meekly at the lectern, spreading his Bible and his notes before him. The noisy welcome continued until he finally looked up with a shy smile and mouthed his thanks, holding up both hands to request silence. At long last, the crowd settled into their seats.

  “My beloved brothers and sisters, I accept your warm greeting in the name that is above all names. All glory and honor is due the triune God.” As the crowd began to respond again, Tsion quickly held up a hand. “Dear ones, we are in the midst of a mountaintop experience in which anything and everything said about our God could justifiably be celebrated. But we are guests here. There is a curfew. And I trust you will forgive me if I request that we withhold expressions of praise from now until the end of the teaching.”

  The crowd fell deathly silent so quickly that Tsion raised his brows and looked around. “I have not offended you, have I?” A smattering of applause urged him to continue.

  “Later it will be wholly appropriate if our master of ceremonies gives you an opportunity to raise your voices again in praise of our God. The Bible says, ‘Let them praise the name of the Lord, for His name alone is exalted; His glory is above the earth and heaven.’

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Tsion continued, spreading his feet and hunching his shoulders as he gazed at his notes, “never in my life have I been more eager to share a message from the Word of God. I stand before you with the unique privilege, I believe, of addressing many of the 144,000 witnesses prophesied in the Scriptures. I count myself one of you, and God has burdened me to help you learn to evangelize. Most of you already know how, of course, and have been winning converts to the Savior every day. Millions around the world have come to faith already.

  “But let me review for you again the basics of God’s plan of salvation so we may soon leave this place and get back to the work to which he has called us. You have each been assigned a location for all-day training tomorrow and the next day. On both nights we will meet back here for encouragement and fellowship and teaching.”

  Tsion then outlined the same evidence he had used on the controversial television broadcast that had made him a fugitive, proving from the Old Testament that Jesus was the Messiah. He recited the many names of God and finished with the powerful passage from Isaiah 9:6,
“For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given; and the government will be upon His shoulder. And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

  The crowd could not contain itself, leaping to its feet. Tsion smiled and nodded and waved encouragement, pointing to the heavens. “Yes, yes,” he said finally. “Even I would not stifle your praise to the Most High God. Jesus himself said that if we do not glorify God, the very stones would have to cry out.”

  Tsion walked through God’s plan of redemption from the beginning of time, showing that Jesus was sent as the spotless lamb, a sacrifice to take away the sins of the world. He explained the truths that had so recently become clear to these initiates, that man is born in sin and that nothing he can do for himself can reconcile him to God. Only by believing and trusting in the work Christ did for him on the cross can he be born again spiritually into eternal life. “In John 14:6,” Tsion said, his voice rising for the first time, “Jesus himself said he was the way, the truth, and the life, and that no man can come to the Father except through him. This is our message to the nations. This is our message to the desperate, the sick, the terrified, the bound. By now there should be no doubt in anyone’s mind—even those who have chosen to live in opposition to God—that he is real and that a person is either for him or against him. We of all people should have the boldness of Christ to aggressively tell the world of its only hope in him.

  “The bottom line, my brothers and sisters, is that we have been called as his divine witnesses—144,000 strong—through whom he has begun a great soul harvest. This will result in what John the Revelator calls ‘a great multitude which no one could number.’ Before you fall asleep tonight, read Revelation 7 and thrill with me to the description of the harvest you and I have been called to reap. John says it is made up of souls from all nations, kindreds, peoples, tribes, and tongues. One day they will stand before his throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes and carrying palms in their hands!”