“We were talking about the Christians weren’t we?” I inserted a little uneasily. I did not relish the direction his thoughts had taken.
“I think I understand a little what you mean, Doctor. You are saying that just because a man is called a Jew does not make him believe Jewish things?” At Paul’s nod, Ahmed went on. “Then these Christians who are left—you think they may be Christian in name only, but they do not believe in things really Christian?”
“There isn’t much else to believe. The temple was built supposedly by Jews for the God of the Jews, but all who are Jews do not believe in our God—in any God in fact.”
The village lay before us now and for a moment Paul stopped on the rim of the hill to look down upon it. It had seemed like a beautiful jewel to me when first I had seen it. It was even more beautiful, now. The glowing red roofs and the accent of white walls and walks flecked with green of lawn and garden seemed smaller now in contrast to fields that had spread until now they flowed up the very sides of the hills. The black tents on the faraway hills were swallowed up in the emerald and gold of the orchards and the grain fields. Miraculously peace, a common cause and plan had fused our fields and orchards with those of the Arabs. Surely now that we had found a way to work together, and not only we, but all the world had found it, we were not be to cast into lustful turmoil again!
“That looks like peace and plenty, doesn’t it?” Paul asked bitterly.
“It is!” I exclaimed jealously, for I loved our valley and our village.
“Well, how much of our crops are stored in our granaries? How much canned foods are on our shelves? How much fruit have we stored away? How long could we last if we had to depend on our resources?”
“But, Paul, that was the whole idea of this plan that has been working so well! Instead of selfishly storing our surpluses or selling them just for gain they have been taken and stored so that they can be distributed as needed. We don’t need to hoard. Our fields have given us good harvest. We have cattle, chickens, flocks, fresh fruits, and vegetables. We have things canned, dried, and frozen, but only what we need for the short time between crops—” I stopped for the import of his words had reached me. “But Paul, you don’t mean—you don’t think—”
“That the Prince will deny us the goods that we have taken out to his storehouses?” there was no mirth in his bitter laugh. “Well, at least we are not alone. The whole world has depleted its surpluses and poured them into storehouses! It was a wonderful dream while it lasted! Of course, we haven’t had to prove it too much. There has been some let-up in crop damages, in floods to destroy and, well, in all the things that brought famine to the world. The few disasters were easily taken care of by the stored surpluses. Yes, it should have worked, but it was never intended that way. Damon drew out our surpluses, drained us of every extra—he was wise enough to know that hunger and want and fear would give him the power he desired. Well, we gave him the whip—and he has started to use it!”
The rest of the way to the village there was silence as we mulled Paul’s words and our own premonitions. In a way, it seemed impossible in that fertile valley that want could strike, but if Damon sent his armies to destroy, to confiscate, how long would there be orchards, grain fields or cattle? What of the water which Paul had always warned was our danger point? Thirst is an even deadlier enemy than hunger. How long would we be able to withstand, even behind our high walls, if the slender lines extending up into the hills were severed?
Once we arrived at the village our hands were occupied with caring for my mother. She seemed unable to move. Simon stood her on her feet, but she tottered and looked unseeingly at the door in front of her. So Simon lifted her and carried her up the steps into their room where I undressed her and put her to bed.
Paul came presently and examined her. His face was grave, yet he could find nothing really wrong with her. We stood outside and he told me all that he could.
“There is really nothing I can do. She is suffering from shock—mental shock. She has worked too hard on the embroidering, with heart and soul wrapped in God. It was too much for her when she knew that the gifts she had given to God will be used by the desecraters of the temple. Now I think her faith and trust in Jehovah has been shaken so we must endeavor to give her back her faith!”
I looked at Paul in surprise because of the assurance in his voice. He would say nothing more except to tell me how to make my mother comfortable, and to admonish me to force food through her lips if necessary. I returned to sit by her side, tears were in my eyes and in my heart. How I wished that I could speak to arouse her again to her vibrant personality. But if I repeated her oft-sung hymns and praises she would hear them as deceit. I had flung my unbelief into her face and she would know that my words were mockery.
Now and then one of the villagers who had remained because of some task that could not be left or some handicap that would not let them go to Jerusalem slipped in to give sympathy and offer relief. Very little was said, but the bleakness we had felt was in their eyes, too. I refused their offers, promising that I would call if I needed them. I knew that Paul would come and I felt the stirring of a new hunger making me impatient for him to finish what he had been telling us on the way to the village.
Dusk had settled before he brought someone to stay with mother; then he would not talk until I had eaten a good dinner in the big dining room. I was surprised to see that others of the pilgrims had returned. There was a little discussion but it was mostly on the reactions of the people. There had been some elation, very little shouting for or against the edict.
There was no doubt that the Prince had taken few into his confidence on this new plan, yet we all knew that he had staunch supporters able to carry out his idea unless a concerted resistance was made. Most of the storehouses were built so impregnable as to make it necessary to destroy them and thus the coveted foods also, unless he willed them to be opened. A pall of gloom had settled over the world. The radios were subdued. For once there was little speculation by commentators. A few did try to go out into the streets to get the reactions of the people, but almost everyone answered the same way—that, after all, they did have to eat. And the day would soon be upon us for the marking!
“Everyone is afraid!” one woman whispered, afraid that her voice might be heard outside our hall.
“Why doesn’t someone start something?”
“What?”
“I don’t know. Anything would be better than—than—well, this sitting back and doing nothing!”
“Would you be willing to be the leader against the Prince’s strong organization?” Paul asked quietly.
“Or against the power that gave the Beast life?” I could not help asking.
“Tell us, Paul. You were there. Did he actually make the dead come to life again?”
“If the Beast was not dead then it is the first creature who was able to live after losing even half as much blood. Yes, dead and, unless my eyes deceived me, very much alive after the Prince raised it.”
“Could it be mass hypnotism?”
“Mass hypnotism? I think he uses that, if not something more diabolical! The whole world seems to be under an evil spell of his making.”
Then someone seemed to remember and asked, “Paul, you helped organize the first group that put Damon in power. What are you going to do about the mark?”
All eyes turned toward him, but there was no hesitation in Paul’s answer.
“I will refuse it with my dying breath! Believe me when I say that I had no idea that the Prince would turn out like this, but I learned to be afraid of him long ago. I tried to get out of helping but there was always the idea that I was being afraid of shadows. I couldn’t put my finger on anything—it was God who pointed me to doubt and I was not sure that I understood God.”
Silently we digested his words each in our own way. I was thrilled again at the way they turned to my Paul; Ahmed seemed to share some of my pride. Paul was his idol. Simon seemed puzzled, but not too su
rprised, while others were plainly startled.
“Are you telling us you are a prophet, now?” one man asked.
“No, I am far from being a prophet, but we do not need new prophets. What I have learned I learned at the feet of our fathers’ prophets—Daniel, Isaiah, Ezekiel, Hosea, Zechariah—and the rest.”
“You might let us in on what they told you, doctor.”
“Get out your books of the Prophets and read them. You will find Damon described very accurately. They tell of the peace brought by him—they tell of the new covenant and the abomination of the temple which we have just seen.”
“Then if they tell that much what comes next?”
“The time of Jacob’s trouble! It is a trouble far surpassing any which we have seen before!”
“Damon made that proclamation to the whole world, didn’t he? Why do we get all the trouble?”
“We don’t. But we will get more than most because we will not accept the mark—I won’t, will you?”
“I don’t think so, but maybe I’ll have to.”
“Some of us have lost sight of God. We have blamed Him for our troubles—if we have thought of Him at all. Yet why did we feel so sure that Damon would continue to give prosperity and peace?”
“Why, because he appeared to be like the promised Messiah—”
“And you have been one who most consistently denied God.” Paul turned to the man.
“I don’t deny that, but I began to think maybe I was wrong. Now I am back where I was.”
“You have boasted that you did not believe, but your heart denied your mind. You wanted a Messiah. You would not be a Jew without that hope, however smothered. Damon certainly is not the Messiah, but we built him up out of the hope we cherished! We did not recognize Him when He did come!”
There it was again! What did he mean?
“What? We do have a leader? A Messiah?”
“He was here, He has gone. Let me ask you as I asked Ahmed and Tanya earlier. Do you remember Dal, my friend? Do you remember how he disappeared, how others disappeared at the same time? He was a Christian—the others who vanished were Christians, too. Does that suggest anything? No, I see that it doesn’t. Well, Christians claim to believe our God. They claim to believe all His prophecies. They have books, too, and in no way do they contradict our prophets. Dal and I had some pretty stiff arguments. He said we were blinded, but only for a time. I didn’t like the idea of being told I was blind even for a short time. I was indeed blind, at last I see. That blindness started centuries ago when the Messiah came, walked in our midst and we refused Him.
“Damon came as the Prince in power. He drew us to himself by the promises he made of glorifying our name in the world. The wealth of the world poured in to him—everyone, everywhere, listens to his voice and heeds his commands. That was the kind of Messiah we wanted and expected. The Messiah did not come like that. He came as a humble carpenter, walking among the masses, reaching down to help the sick and the blind and the halt, giving food to the hungry, yet bidding men to live not by bread alone, but by the Word of God who sent Him, and who He, Himself, was! And how did we receive Him, this very God who came down from heaven to give of Himself for us?
“From the ages past we have been taught that man sinned so grievously that he must die. Yet even in the hour of that first turning away from God, Jehovah did not cast us aside but prepared a way for our redemption. You have prepared and eaten the passover lamb. Remember how it was the shed blood on the lintels and side posts of the doors that made the angel of death pass over; no death entered into the house that showed the blood. Remember, too, the countless bullocks, goats, sheep and doves offered to God. Remember the blood sprinkled on the mercy seat by the High Priest. Was our redemption to be bought by the blood of animals? It might seem so, but God was preparing His own Lamb that would be the final, perfect blood offering.
“We are God’s chosen people, but tell me why we merited that choosing. Abram indeed was one of the few who believed and worshiped God. God chose him to father our nation. He gave to us promises which no one else in the world can claim and which no one can take from us. We have continually withheld ourselves from their fulfillment, but they have not been changed—they are still there. We are God’s chosen people though we have not worn that distinction too well. The name Jew has become a byword, a mark of cupidity, of slyness, and of sharp dealings. It was meant to be a name giving glory to God because of the unusual abilities given to us as His chosen people. But those abilities have been used to satisfy our greed for wealth and for power. We looked at leeks and garlic and were too busy to replenish the incense on the altars. We forsook the God of our fathers. We cursed God when He could withhold the chastening hand no longer. We forgot to bless Him when He took compassion on us and heard our pleas for mercy. We took the blessings and refused the responsibilities. He chose a people so that His Word might not perish from the earth. We were made separate, but we were not meant to be selfish. There was a place for the Gentiles, too, in His plan.”
“Get to the point, Paul,” Simon interposed softly.
“Right, Uncle Simon. I did not know I could get so wound up, but it has been pent up inside and only got sorted out for me lately, so I am talking for myself and for you. God had chosen a separate people that through that people He intended providing the Lamb who would be for all the world. He did come—a babe in a manger, born into a lowly family, yet with royal blood in His veins. Our Messiah was to be from the line of Jesse and of David. Other identifications were supplied, too. He was to be born of a virgin—in the city of Bethlehem Ephrata—gifts were to be brought Him by kings coming out of the east—many are the prophecies. Yet, we did not recognize Him when He came fulfilling them!
“God knew that, too. He gave His prophet Isaiah the words to tell how we would receive Him—we were filled with but one interest, that was power and pride! The Messiah came to us in meekness and quietness. He gave proof of His power, but not for our glorification nor yet for His own. We despised and rejected Him—He was a man of sorrows and we would not see Him for what He was. We liked our own way and when He tried to win us to humility and repentance we scorned Him and flung Him into the hands of the enemy. We cried down death on His head and took the curse of it onto ourselves, even unto our children! You look at me as if I were mad. It sounds like a bad dream, but it is true. Because we did not know our Messiah when He came we have been wandering ever since. He went from us, not because He desired it, but because we willed it so, and going He took for Himself a new people. He, none other than Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ from whom came the name Christian!”
“I thought berhaps you were going to tell us that, Paul, my son,” Simon shook his head sadly. “You have been listening too much to your Christian friend. I have been approached in the same way. But Isaiah was speaking not of one man but of our nation Israel.”
“How can you say that, Uncle Simon? How have we been ‘wounded for another’s transgressions’?—unless you want to say that our generation is being punished for a dead generation’s iniquities—but it clearly says—wait, I have it1—” he drew the small black Book from his pocket and opened it easily showing how much he had been using it. “Let me read this, ‘Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all’—that doesn’t sound like a nation but like one man making restitution for the sins of many. And why is that difficult to accept? Don’t we offer the sacrificial lamb—and if God gives the Lamb to us in order to end the many sacrifices does that not sound like His planning? Wait, let me go on,—‘He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is d
umb, so he opened not his mouth’—like a lamb, yet not a lamb! For only a man could take man’s place in the final analysis to make propitiation for man’s sin! How did this man, called the Lamb, this Jesus, die? Did he rant and rail? Did he call down imprecations from heaven while broadcasting his innocence? Let me read from other writings, here2—‘And Jesus stood before the governor: and the governor asked him saying, “Art thou the King of the Jews?” And Jesus said unto him, “Thou sayest.”’ And when he was accused of the chief priests and elders, he answered—nothing! ‘Then said Pilate unto him “Hearest thou not how many things they witness against thee!”’ And he answered him—never a word! ‘“As a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth.”’”3
“You have learned well, Paul. I do not see, however, what it gains us. Supposing you are right. Can we bring Him back? Would He come if, as you say, we killed Him or caused Him to be killed? Would He hear us if we repented, now? Where is He and what is He doing? Answer those questions, my son, and perhaps you will have something for us.”
“First, I want to try and show you how I am so sure. Dal quoted many verses—some from our books, some from the books I last read to you. I was stubborn and would not believe. He said that perhaps it would be given to us to see many wondrous things come to pass and he told me to watch for them. If I began to see them, then would I know that the other things were true. One of the first things would be the calling out of the new people or church who had accepted the Christ we had rejected. He said, also, that this church was what he called an unnatural branch, a grafted-in one. Because we rejected the Messiah who came not to set up a worldly kingdom, but to win men to God, then He turned to the Gentiles to carry on His purpose that His plan of redemption might not be lost. But—and he emphasized this over and over—God did not cast us off! He chastised and punished but He did not cast us off! He caused our scattering, our persecution because we drifted farther and farther away. The gathering at the temple was pre-eminently for show and self and not for glorifying God. I know it and you would know it, too. Even the most cynical Jew is still a Jew, and will not bow down easily to the Beast. It is that refusal that will bring our worst tribulation! Oh, about our past troubles. We don’t need to go into them; they are too fresh in our minds. God wanted us back in our land; we liked the fleshpots of the world. I found life here rather dull. I looked toward the bright lights and easier living. We would not have come here if other doors had not been closed one after another. Those are some of the things Dal pointed out to me. Can you deny them?”
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