The Harbinger II

by Jonathan Cahn

  “I know there’s got to be some sort of prophetic protocol you’re following,” I said with a raised voice, “but you could answer the question. You’re allowed to break protocol.”

  He turned around enough to glance at me with a slight smile.

  “Stay well, Nouriel,” he said. “Stay well,” and not long after that he was gone.

  It was the last time I saw him.

  “That’s how it ended?” said Ana. “He showed you all those revelations, and that’s how it ended . . . with ‘Stay well’? When your first encounters with the prophet came to an end, he gave you a charge, and you fulfilled it. You got the word out. You wrote the book. But now there was no charge, nothing. I can’t imagine he gave you all those revelations just for your own edification or so that you would be the only person in the world to know them. There had to be a reason, a purpose, and a charge, just as there was the first time. What would be the point of showing you all those things if there was nothing that could be done about it, if there was no hope? Aren’t the harbingers warnings? So then aren’t the people supposed to be warned? And didn’t he tell you at the beginning that there was more to be done?”

  “But he never gave me a charge.”

  “So then maybe it was an end, but not the end. He showed you things that happened up to the present. So maybe it was the end for now, but not the end of what he has to show you.”

  “I couldn’t tell you,” said Nouriel.

  “All right, but promise me something.”

  “What?”

  “If the prophet should reappear, you’ll let me know.”

  “Why are you so anxious about it, Ana?”

  “Maybe because you’re talking about life and death and the future of America . . . and the world. And maybe because I know it can’t be the end. There’s something more he has to show you. And I want to know it when it happens.”

  “You’re very sure.”

  “Will you promise me?”

  “Yes . . . if he should return.”

  Chapter 27

  The Children of the Ruins

  HE RETURNED!” SHE shouted. She knew he wouldn’t have just shown up without letting her know in advance if it hadn’t happened. “The prophet returned! And you saw him! And now you’ve returned.”

  “I told you I would.”

  “But with everything that’s going on, with everybody so afraid to do anything, I didn’t know you would even if he did return.”

  “But I made you a promise.”

  “How did you know I’d be here . . . and at night?”

  “You never stop working, Ana. I saw the light in the office. I knew it had to be you.”

  “Come,” she said.

  There was nobody there but the two of them. Ana led him into her office, where she quickly set up two chairs facing each other, on which they sat down, six feet apart.

  “So it wasn’t the end,” she said.

  “You were right.”

  “So tell me how it began, about the encounter.”

  “It began with an encounter,” he said, “but not with the prophet.”

  “What do you mean? With whom?”

  “With one who came in a way I didn’t expect. Months went by without anything, no leads, no clues, no signs, nothing. And then I had a dream. I was walking through the ruins of an ancient city. The air was filled with smoke and dust.”

  “You’ve seen that before . . . in your dreams.”

  “Yes, but this time it was different. This time the ruins were filled with children walking, playing, exploring. Others were sitting in the rubble or on broken walls and the remnants of fallen buildings. Since I was walking in back of them, I couldn’t see their faces. One of them was sitting on the foundation of a broken pillar in a hooded robe of blue. I walked around to the other side of the pillar to see the child’s face. It was a little girl . . . and she was wearing a mask.”

  “A mask?”

  “A blue surgical face mask. And it wasn’t only her. About half the children sitting in the ruins were wearing masks . . . ancient robes and yet with face masks.”

  “Why are you wearing a mask?” I asked.

  “Because of the plague,” she replied.

  “Do you have to wear it all the time?”

  “No,” she said. “I could take it off just for a little.”

  With that, she pulled back the hood and removed the mask. She had long wavy blonde hair. It was the girl, the little girl in the blue coat, only now the coat was a blue robe, and it was covered with dust.

  “Nouriel,” she said, “what is it that you see all around you?”

  “The ruins of a city,” I replied.

  “What you see is the end of a kingdom that had known but turned away and refused to come back. What you see is a nation that deafened its ears to His voice . . . to His calling.”

  “An ancient kingdom?” I asked.

  “No,” she replied, “a kingdom you know very well.”

  “If this is its end,” I said, “then it can’t be changed. Then why am I seeing it? And why are all these things being revealed to me? What’s the purpose?”

  “So that this would not be its end.”

  “How could I change it?”

  “It is for that purpose, Nouriel, that you’ve been shown what you’ve been shown.”

  “I don’t see what I could do to . . .”

  “And what is it that you will now be shown?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “It will center on those things that are now and yet to come.”

  “The future.”

  “You will be shown that which concerns the future and what you need to do concerning it.”

  “I don’t understand what I could do . . . ”

  “Therefore, you’ll see him again.”

  “The prophet.”

  “And you’ll need another seal. Do you have the last one, the one I gave to you and the one he gave you back?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied. In real life I would have known, as I had always kept it with me. But I had no idea if I had brought the seal into the dream. So I reached into my pocket, and it was there. I handed it to her, and she handed me another. Except it didn’t appear to be another.

  “It’s the same seal,” I said. “You gave me back the same seal, the city on the hill.”

  “No,” she said. “The seal will be different. But you’ll have to look at it more closely. Then you’ll see.”

  It was just then that I heard children calling her. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but I knew they were asking her to join them. She pulled the hood back over her head and the mask back over her face.

  “Don’t lose the seal, Nouriel,” she said. “You’ll need it if you’re going to see him.”

  Then she ran off and joined the children who were calling her, running after them and disappearing into the ruins. And the dream ended.

  “As soon as I woke up, I went over to the drawer where I kept the seal, took it out, and began studying it in the hope of finding a clue or anything more I could go on.”

  “And did you?” asked Ana.

  “Not a clue—but many clues. And they would lead me to the final mysteries . . . the mysteries of what was yet to come.”

  Chapter 28

  The Shakings

  OK,” SAID ANA, “what I’m not understanding is the little girl gave you a seal, but she gave it to you in a dream. So in reality she didn’t give you anything.”

  “But she did,” said Nouriel. “She gave me what I needed to go forward.”

  “But the seal you were looking at for clues was the seal you already had. It’s what the prophet had given you back. So how could it lead you to anything new?”

  “The dream was telling me that there was more to the seal than I had realized, clues I hadn’t seen.”

  “So what did you see?”

  “What I saw was the city on a hill. But when I examined it more closely, I saw it. Surrounding the image was wh
at I had taken to be a decorative ring. But scattered around the ring in the midst of its decorative markings were tiny images. If you weren’t searching, you’d never see them. And even if you saw them, you wouldn’t be able to make out what they were without help. But I had help—a large magnifying glass I kept at home. With that, I was able to discern what they were or at least what they looked like. What they actually meant was another story.”

  “One seal with several images,” she said, “all having to do with one mystery?”

  “No, with several mysteries.”

  “Why all on one seal?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps because it would be the bringing together of what had been shown me.”

  “What about the dreams? Would there be several dreams for several mysteries or one dream for all of them?”

  “There would be no more dreams. The dream with the little girl would be the last. And the images on the seal weren’t so much about the next revelation but the place where the next revelation would be given. So it wasn’t that I was supposed to try to figure out the mystery, but rather the place where I was supposed to go to receive it.”

  “Why do you think that was?”

  “Maybe because there wasn’t time.”

  “So what was on the seal?”

  “Since the images were arranged in a circle, I decided to begin examining them with the image that was just to the right of the top and go clockwise.”

  “So what was it?”

  “A simple image: a circle within a square. The circle was a clock. The clock read half past nine. I struggled to uncover its meaning. I thought it might be pointing to a scripture, a Bible verse with the numbers 9:30. But nothing clicked.

  “And then, when I wasn’t trying to, I unlocked the meaning. I had the television going in the background. There was a news report. I heard the words Times Square. That was it. The clock represented time or times inside of a square, Times Square.”

  “What about the 9:30 on the clock?” she asked.

  “I believe that was the time I was supposed to be there.”

  “But on what day?”

  “As with everything else, I believed that everything would coalesce at the appointed time. I decided to go there that night, the night of the day it hit me.”

  “And what did you find?”

  “I found the jarring spectacle of colored lights and giant screens and restless images for which Times Square is known. But the most striking thing was the absence of people. And of the few who passed through it that night, most were wearing face masks.”

  “Because of the crisis,” she said, “because of the virus.”

  “Yes. Because of the virus, the entire city resembled a ghost town, a ghost city. And because of the scarcity of people, it didn’t take long for me to see him. He was standing in front of One Times Square, the building from which they drop the ball every year on New Year’s Eve.”

  “So you have more to show me,” I said.

  “I do,” said the prophet.

  “And will this include the answer to my question—where we are in the mystery, in time, in the progression?”

  “We’ve come to the place where time is marked,” he said, “to speak of times and where we are within them.”

  He paused to look around and take in the surroundings.

  “The crossroads of the world,” he said, “and tonight there’s virtually nobody crossing it.”

  “They’re scared,” I said.

  Slowly we began walking the length of Times Square, occasionally coming to a stop while the display of moving images and colored lights played continuously above us, for no one.

  “The mystery you’ve been shown involves the dynamic of recurrence, the replaying of a biblical progression of national judgment. It was there in America’s fall from God. It was there in 9/11. It was there in the first harbingers you were shown and in the ones that followed. And it is there in everything that’s happened to America up to the present hour. And so the question must be asked: What does the replaying of the template lead to? Where does the mystery end?”

  “And so I’ve asked it.”

  “After the first shaking of ancient Israel, the nation hardened itself against God and turned further away. After 9/11, America did likewise. What then? In our last encounters, we’ve seen that the harbingers and signs of warning and judgment have not ceased but have continued to manifest. So what does that mean?”

  “That America’s fall from God has continued as well.”

  “Not only has it continued,” he said, “but deepened and accelerated.”

  “Does that follow the ancient template?” I asked.

  “It does. In Israel’s last days as a nation, even after it was warned and shaken, its fall from God, likewise, deepened and accelerated.”

  “So the replaying has continued according to the ancient template—even up to now.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then is there a choice?”

  “If there was no choice, there would be no warning, no signs, and no harbingers. But that there have been all these things is for the purpose of averting the template’s end. In each case, the nation is given a window of time, years of grace, in which to turn back. The window for America began after 9/11 and has been until now.”

  “Has there been any turning? Has there been any return to God in the days since 9/11?”

  “Since those days,” he replied, “there have been those who have turned to God, and the rising of movements for the purpose of turning, and pockets of revival—but as for a massive return or a national turning—it has not happened. And America’s mainstream culture has turned only further and more brazenly away. And in this, as well, America is following in the ominous path of ancient Israel.”

  “So what happens?” I asked.

  “I really think you should read your own books, Nouriel. It’s there in your first book.”

  “I’m sure I was just quoting what you told me.”

  “And I was just quoting a commentary on Isaiah 9 concerning ancient Israel and its vow of defiance. It was this:

  As the first stage of the judgments has been followed by no true conversion to Jehovah, the Almighty Judge, there comes a second.1

  “In other words, if the nation refuses to turn back to God after its first shaking, its first calamity, there will be more.”

  “More shakings . . . ”

  “Yes. And I quoted another commentary on the ancient vow in Isaiah. You included it in that same chapter. It was this:

  That which God designs . . . is to turn us to himself and to set us a seeking him; and, if this point be not gained by lesser judgments, greater may be expected.2

  “Seven years after 9/11 came the shaking of the American and world economy.”

  “The financial collapse.”

  “But there isn’t to be only one shaking. There will come others, other calamities, greater than the first. When we first spoke of these things, you asked me what form the shakings and calamities would take. You recorded what I told you in the chapter called ‘Things to Come.’ It was this:

  They may take the form of economic disintegration or military defeat, disorder and division, the collapse of infrastructure, manmade calamities, calamities of nature, decline and fall. And, in the case of a nation so greatly blessed by God’s favor, the withdrawal of all such blessings.”3

  “What about the timing of these things?” I asked. “Where are we now in the progression? How much time is left in the window?”

  “The prophets gave warnings of coming events, immediately before those events came to pass. On the other hand, the prophets also gave warnings years, decades, even centuries before they came to pass. One cannot put God in a box or contain His ways within a formula. Whether it be days, years, decades, or centuries, God is sovereign; each case is its own, and the timing of all events rests in His hands.

  “But you asked me years ago to tell you of a specific time period given in the ancient template—you asked
me to tell you how long it was between the nation’s first shaking and the coming of greater calamity and shakings. In the case of Israel’s northern kingdom, I told you it was ten years. Then you asked me what it was in the case of the southern kingdom. You put that question and the answer I gave you in your book as well, in the same chapter on things to come. It was this:

  ‘And what about the southern kingdom, Judah, did it follow the same pattern—an initial attack, a harbinger, and then destruction?’

  ‘Yes, the same pattern. First came the Initial invasion in 605 BC, this time by the Babylonians. Later, the same army would return to destroy the land, the city, and the Temple.’

  ‘When?’ I asked.

  ‘586 BC.’4

  “So the time span between the first shaking and the great calamities is 605 BC to 586 BC. How long is that?”

  “About twenty years.”

  “How long is it exactly?”

  “Nineteen years.”

  “Nineteen years,” said the prophet. “It was nineteen years after Babylon’s first invasion of the land that the judgment fell. Nineteen years after the initial invasion of the land that destruction came. Nineteen years . . . the time span of judgment.”

  He was silent, as if waiting for me to respond. I stopped walking and turned around to face him.

  “2020!”

  “2020.”

  “Nineteen years from 9/11, from 2001, the first shaking, comes out to 2020, the year of shaking, the year that the plague came to America, the year of the coronavirus . . . the year of disorder, of collapse, the year of greater shakings.”

  “Nineteen years,” said the prophet, “the time span of judgment.”

  “And what was it again that the commentary said about greater things?”

  “If we aren’t turned to God ‘by lesser judgments, greater may be expected.’”5

  “Everything that’s happened,” I said, “it’s the greater shaking.”

  “It is a greater shaking,” said the prophet, “but that doesn’t mean it’s the only one . . . that there aren’t more or greater shakings to come.”