by Brian Godawa
He continued, “Oh, and let us not forget the whole Son of David motif. That one is a real hoot. And I quote, ‘I will raise up your seed after you, and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. I will be to him a father, and he shall be to me a son. My steadfast love will not depart from him. And your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me. Your throne shall be established forever.’” He had quoted it with exaggeration to make it sound ridiculous. He concluded. “Can it be any more obvious?”
Jesus shrugged. Maybe, maybe not.
“No, wait, yes it can. I do believe it can. How about this one,
Yahweh says to Adonai, my Lord:
“Sit at my right hand,
until I make your enemies your footstool.”
Yahweh sends forth from Zion
your mighty scepter.
Rule in the midst of your enemies!
Yahweh has sworn
and will not change his mind,
“You are a priest forever
after the order of Melchizedek.”
Jesus finally spoke up. “You had better be careful, Accuser, quoting so much Scripture may have a deleterious effect on your accusations.”
“Well, well, ‘the Messiah’ has a second wind. Nice to see you listening, starved attention though it may be. May I complete the narrative?”
Jesus gestured with his hand to continue.
“So, King David, that vanquisher of giants, and Seed of the Serpent, takes down the Philistine champion Goliath. He enters Jerusalem in a triumphal procession with the head of his giant foe, and proceeds to wipe out the last of the Rephaim giants in the land. Now, I wonder what city the ‘Son of David’ is going to enter in triumph to claim his universal kingship? Why, Jerusalem of course, where he will claim the holy temple and demand eternal priesthood according to the order of Melchizedek. And there you have it. The Messiah as prophet, priest and king. But why wait? Let us go there right now.”
The wind whipped up around Jesus. Sand got in his eyes. He closed them tight and stood up from the ground. When he opened his eyes, he found himself standing at the pinnacle of the holy temple in Jerusalem with Belial beside him smiling. Beneath this roof, the holy of holies resided, where the cherubim images guarded the ark of the covenant, the very royal throne and footstool of Yahweh Elohim on earth. And that throne room was a shadow, a mirror of reality of Yahweh’s true throne room in the heavens above the waters. Thus, the saying, “On earth as it is in heaven.”
It was a hundred and fifty foot drop to the bottom of this temple. He could see the priests going about their daily sacrifices in the court below. Beyond, in the women’s courtyard and in the outer court of the Gentiles, Jews were milling about engaging in temple duties, completely unaware of these two observers peering down from the golden trimmed roof.
Belial’s previous sarcasm turned smooth and testy. “Prove now you are worthy of your Scriptural claims. If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down, for it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you,’ and ‘On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone.’ Or are you not God’s new Melchizedek?”
His sarcasm carried particular venom when he mocked Jesus’s phrase, “it is written.”
Jesus swallowed and replied, “On the other hand, it is also written, ‘You shall not put Yahweh your god to the test.’”
Belial scoffed, “Oh, how petty.”
Another gust of wind blew from below. Jesus’s cloak flew up and obscured his vision. When it came down, he saw he was on the precipice of a deep ridge back in the desert. Had he ever left?
The gust of desert wind suddenly went still. Jesus found it difficult to breathe in the stifling deadness of the heat. Was he dizzy from the height or from his malnutrition? Now, he heard whispering voices of malignant evil all around him. The cacophony was enough to make a human go insane. But Jesus was no mere human.
Belial said, “My children. My minions. No, the Nephilim are not gone from the land. They are still here. And they will rise up.”
The unholy Nephilim had been purged from the land, first by the Flood, and finally through the holy wars of Canaan by Joshua ben Nun and King David. There was only one thing Belial could mean by their return.
Belial changed the subject. “Yahweh has protected his chosen seedline of Messiah through all the ages. I must say however, that I am not impressed with his choice of a final vessel. You have neither the constitution nor the military skills of your namesake, Joshua.” Joshua was Hebrew for Jesus. “Now there was a ballsy warrior. I hated that godlicker and his tail-wagging dog, Caleb.
“But you, you are but a simple carpenter. Pshaw! I fail to see how you will fulfill his conquest. The only thing you have going for you is the Covering. Apparently, the heavenly principalities and powers cannot touch you.” Belial paused. The bodiless demonic horde faded back into the howling desert rocks. A subtle smirk grew on Belial’s lips. “But the earthly humans over which we rule can.”
He let that one linger with a sense of foreboding. Belial was good at delivery. He was after all the Accuser in the very courtroom of Yahweh’s divine council. He challenged the Laws of Torah and prosecuted heavenly lawsuits against Yahweh’s people.
“I almost had you in the hands of Herod when you were born. How you escaped Herod’s slaughter of the innocents at Bethlehem, now that I must congratulate Yahweh on. The whole flight to Egypt and all. And there you have it, that exodus connection again. Just like Moses escaping the slaughter of Hebrew infants by Pharaoh. Nice touch. If it had not been for those Babylonian Magi literally coming and pointing out the star prophecy to Herod, that rock head would never have figured anything out.”
The star prophecy that Belial alluded to had a long history of importance. When Yahweh had originally created the heavens and earth, he placed the constellations of stars and planets in the sky not merely for seasons but for signs to mankind. And the most imaginative sign was the story of redemption that he embedded within the very structure of the twelve constellations that revolved around the earth. The narrative was of a virgin (Virgo) who would bear the promised seed and pay the price of justice (Libra) to overcome the “wounder of the heel” (Scorpio). This promised one would be a conqueror (Sagittarius the archer), who would be the scapegoat of atonement (Capricorn), and bring living waters for his people (Aquarius the water-bearer). Those people would be blessed though bound (Pisces the fish). Their blessings would be consummated through a ram of sacrifice (Aries) who would become a ruling leader (Taurus the bull), a king with two natures (Gemini the twins). He would hold his people fast in his grip (Cancer the crab), and would ultimately reign as king over the earth (Leo the lion).
Yahweh’s enemies eventually subverted the original intent of the constellations and twisted the entire system into a form of idolatry that worshipped the stars instead of Yahweh as the determiner of destinies.
The Babylonian Magi, whose tradition was influenced by the teachings of the exilic prophet Daniel, had followed the final sign in the heavens that pointed to the birth of Messiah. It was written that when the constellation Virgo was on the horizon, clothed with the sun and the moon under her feet, with twelve stars above her head, she would give birth to a divine king. This was because the king planet Jupiter aligned in conjunction with the king star Regulus over her head creating a bright star. The Magi observed that sign in the year 750 AUC, seven hundred and fifty years from the founding of the city of Rome. The star Regulus is in the constellation of Leo the Lion.
The Magi were taught by their Hebrew prophet that this King of the Jews would be called the Lion of the tribe of Judah. And they were taught he would come from the small town of Bethlehem in Judea. Unfortunately, the second part of the sign was the constellation of Hydra, the red dragon, whose tail was just under Virgo’s feet and entailed a third of the horizon line called the elliptic. This prefigured the Serpent and his fallen
ones seeking to devour the Messiah at birth.
Warned by Gabriel, the Magi never returned to Herod and Jesus’s parents escaped to Egypt until after Herod died. By the time Herod, that son of a serpent, murdered all the young male children of Bethlehem, Jesus was already gone.
Jesus knew that Herodian mass murder was a mere portent of the battle he had in his future. And this monster before him was the heavenly architect of his earthly opposition. Jesus swayed in his stance. He reached down and with a grunt picked up his staff to hold himself up.
But when he arose, he now found himself on the peak of a mountain range, the tallest in the region. It was cold and snowy. The wind, no longer hot, but bitterly cold, rushed into his folds and chilled him to the bone. He pulled his cloak tighter and raised his hood.
Belial stepped up beside him. “It is so much colder without food in your belly. Here, let me help you.” He took off his cloak and draped it around Jesus. “There, there. Are you warmer?”
Jesus said nothing. But he did not refuse the cloak. He shivered and felt his toes already going numb. Belial stood unfazed by the freezing winds despite his bare skeletal chest.
“Do you know where you are?” asked Belial.
“Mount Hermon,” said Jesus.
“Very good,” he condescended. “Believe it or not, I did not bring you here to freeze your little toesies. But rather to share my change of heart from my mount on high.”
Mount Hermon was the original cosmic mountain of the gods. The original location of the Watchers’ descent. At the Flood, most of the two hundred rebel gods had been bound into the earth and imprisoned in Tartarus by the archangels to await the Judgment. Seventy of them and their minions escaped the catastrophe and used this original site of their falling to earth as their sacred headquarters of rebellion against Yahweh. They even organized themselves into a pagan imitation of Yahweh’s own divine council of heavenly host, several of them vying for chief position as the most high.
Deep within the bowels of Hermon was a cavernous hall of assembly where the seventy met in counsel to deliberate their plans and administer their own twisted form of justice upon the earth. A lake of pitch black infernal waters in the cavern led to the Abyss that connected to the mouth of Sheol, or Abode of the Dead, called Hades in Greek. Thus Hermon was a holy mountain that connected the three tiers of the cosmos: the heavens, the earth and the underworld.
Jesus was standing on the high place of the stronghold of supernatural evil next to the Prince of the Power of the Air.
Belial swiped his hand and the clouds appeared to part, enabling Jesus the ability to see all the known world below and their cities of men. Belial’s contempt melted into a seductive whisper in Jesus’s ear. “Do you see all these kingdoms and their glory? They have been delivered to me, and I give them to whom I will.”
Though he was the Father of Lies, in this, he told the truth. After the Flood, the Great Nimrod of Babel had unified all the world under his sovereign authority. He built a ziggurat tower, a sacred cosmic mountain to the heavens where humanity sought divinity in their godless unity to storm heaven. But Yahweh divided their tongues and spread them upon the earth as seventy nations. Because of the incorrigible evil of men’s idolatry, Yahweh allotted each of the nations and their territories under the authority of the seventy Sons of God, as their inheritance. They would worship the rebellious heavenly host.
But Yahweh saved the sons of Israel for himself, through Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and claimed the land of Canaan for their inheritance. The only problem was that Canaan was already under the dominion of Ba’al, Asherah and other gods. And Canaan was the land of giants, the Seed of the Serpent. Joshua ben Nun and David ben Jesse had cleansed the land of its unclean inhabitants with the Wars of Yahweh. But Israel’s constant adultery with the gods of Canaan lost them their inheritance, and over the years, they were chastised by one nation after another. Assyria, Babylonia, Media-Persia, Greece, and now Rome.
Over a millennia, Belial had built up the small Latin republic in the west that ultimately became an empire. As the heavenly Prince of Rome, Belial’s ownership eventually dominated the entire world as Rome conquered all under her power. Since earthly powers and heavenly powers were linked in their spiritual reality, Belial was the chief archon, the god of this world. He parceled out land and power to the other gods out of his own bounty and rule.
Belial whispered, “All of this power and glory is mine. All of it. Caesar is my puppet, his governors are my whores, and his undefeated military machine is my right arm of power. You stand no chance against me, Messiah.”
Jesus shivered with more than cold. This serpent had become monstrous in his power and no less insidious in his intentions since the Garden. He had been preparing for the ultimate War of the Seed for millennia, and he was ready for a fight.
But then Belial changed his tone. “And yet, I have an offer of shalom between us.” Shalom was the Hebrew word for peace, a peace that was not mere cessation of hostilities, but was true enduring wholeness and unity. Jesus looked up into his eyes.
“All of this, all the kingdoms of the earth and their authority, I will give to you as a peace offering. Is that not what Yahweh has promised you?”
It was Yahweh’s promise that the Messiah Seed of Abraham would bless all the nations and inherit the earth. But this is precisely why Belial’s offer was completely out of character. Why would he conquer nations and fight for eons of time to gain control of the whole world, only to hand it over to his arch nemesis? There had to be fine print in this covenant offer.
Belial continued with the sincerity of a politician. “You will have your earthly inheritance without all the death and destruction and bloodshed of the Day of the Lord.” And then he spilled the barley. “All I ask is one teeny tiny thing in return. All you have to do is fall down and worship me.”
Jesus looked Belial in his eyes, deep dark pools of malevolence. He whispered back, “Be gone, Accuser. For it is written, ‘You shall worship the Lord your God and him only shall you serve.’”
Belial sighed and said, “Fine, have it your way. But just let it be written, I gave you the chance to avoid Armageddon and you blew it.” He grabbed his cloak off of Jesus and swung it around in an arc, creating a whirlwind of snow that blinded Jesus for a moment in its swirling white coldness.
Jesus found himself in the desert again. But now he was alone. Belial was gone. But his haunting words of warning lingered longer than the cold in his extremities as the desert heat overtook him again. “Armageddon” was a word that meant a climactic battle for the “mount of assembly,” the very seat of divine power in the heavens. Hermon was the mount of assembly for the gods of the earth. Zion was the mount of assembly for Yahweh in Jerusalem. Belial had used the term to express the clash of kingdoms that was coming between the kingdom of heaven and the kingdoms of earth. A clash of cosmic mountains. The prophet Ezekiel called it the Battle of Gog and Magog.
Jesus knew that right now, Belial was most likely already informing his divine council in Hermon of their exchange. The gods were already preparing for war. Belial’s words echoed in his memory: “The heavenly principalities and powers cannot touch you. But the earthly humans over which we rule can.” Though they had no authority to touch Yahweh’s anointed, they might do so through their human vessels.
Jesus trembled with the weight of responsibility that now overwhelmed him. But the pain was lessened when he heard the familiar sound of his favorite angel echo in his mind.
Jesus, be strong and courageous.
“Jesus, be strong and courageous.” It wasn’t in his mind, it was being spoken to him from behind.
“Sound familiar?”
Jesus turned. He looked up into the smiling face of Uriel the smallest of three angels now standing before him.
Uriel finished his thought, “The words you spoke to Joshua at the threshold of the Promised Land. Funny how it all comes full circle.”
Gabriel, the second angel, and Uriel’s cons
tant bickering companion, responded, “Uriel, I think your humor is once again in incredibly poor taste considering his suffering. Where is your compassion?”
“Nonsense,” said Uriel. “Jesus has done it. Victory is a cause for celebration, not sadness. He made it forty days without food, which is more than I can say for you, chubby.” Uriel patted Gabriel’s stomach. Gabriel moved away annoyed at the jab. Sure, he was heavier than the lightweight Uriel, but he certainly didn’t see himself as “chubby.”
Mikael, the largest and best groomed of the three, was the guardian prince of Israel, and tended to be protective of his ward. He offered a wineskin to Jesus, who took it and gulped with gratitude.
After a moment of silence, Jesus wiped his beard of the wine and said, “You need a better sense of humor, Gabriel.”
Gabriel pouted with frustration at being ganged up on. Uriel, his perpetual nemesis was one thing. But being teased by the Master was quite another.
Jesus said, “And Uriel, you had better deliver on that bread you promised.”
Uriel smiled again and held out a loaf of Mary’s best bread. “Baked two hours ago by your mother.” Jesus grabbed it.
Mikael said, “Remember, do not eat too quickly. It is bad for your digestion after fasting.”
“Thank you for your ministering spirits,” said Jesus, and took a big hungry bite out of the loaf.
Uriel muttered, “Your mother should open a bakery. Can I have a bite?”
Mikael was not so lighthearted. He knew that the challenge had been declared. The road to war had begun.
Chapter 1
Demas stepped out into the arena. The iron barred gate clanged shut behind him. He looked up at the spectators encircling him in their amphitheater seats. The sound of their cheers shaking the stadium did nothing for him. He cared nothing for them or for their pathetic empty lives driven by bloodlust to the circus.
He was a bestiarius and he had a job to do.
At twenty six years of age, he had nothing to live for—or die for. A Hellenized Jewish citizen of Scythopolis in southern Galilee, he was a man between worlds who used both but believed in neither. Hellenism was the term for the Greco-Roman cultural influence on other nations throughout the world, something the Jews were normally hostile toward. He both detested the imperial oppression of his adopted Roman occupiers and despised the belligerent intolerance of his Jewish kinsmen. To satisfy his frustrated anger, he filled his time with what he did well: killing beasts. It kept his mind busy and his body strong. And it paid well.