“Yes, I think so,” I said.
“Now, Jeremiah gave many prophecies that did come true in his lifetime or soon thereafter,” Matt said. “Most famous, of course, were his prophecies that God was going to punish his people for their disobedience by sending the Babylonians—led by the evil King Nebuchadnezzar—to conquer Jerusalem and destroy the Temple and carry off the Jewish people into exile in Babylon. And these terrible things happened, just as Jeremiah said. Fortunately, Jeremiah also prophesied that the exile of the Jews in Babylon would only last for seventy years, and then God would have mercy on them and restore their fortunes and bring them back to the land and reestablish Jerusalem as their capital. And that’s exactly what happened. The Babylonians were conquered by the Persians, and seventy years after the Jews were judged and exiled, the king of Media-Persia set them free and helped them return to the land and rebuild their Temple.”
“Jeremiah wrote all that?” I asked, genuinely intrigued.
“Yes,” Matt said, “and this is what gives us confidence that Jeremiah was a true prophet from the Lord and that his End Times prophecies will come to pass at the proper time as well. We don’t have time to go through an in-depth analysis right now, but just focus for a second on the places I’ve already mentioned—Ammon, Edom, and Bozrah. We’ve established that Jeremiah is speaking about the End Times and that he’s giving prophecies from the Lord about the future of places we now call the kingdom of Jordan. Right?”
I nodded again.
“Okay,” Matt continued. “Jeremiah clearly describes an apocalyptic, catastrophic judgment that falls on the people and cities of Edom in the last days. I already mentioned some of the verses from chapter 49, but there are others. In verse 18, talking about Edom, it says, ‘Like the overthrow of Sodom and Gomorrah with its neighbors . . . no one will live there, nor will a son of man reside in it.’ And in verses 20 and 21, the text describes enemies dragging off ‘even the little ones of the flock.’ It says, ‘The earth has quaked at the noise of their downfall. There is an outcry! The noise of it has been heard at the Red Sea.’”
Matt was quiet for a moment, presumably to let me absorb what I’d just heard. I was beginning to understand what he had said about bad things being in store for Jordan. But was any of it actually true?
“Look,” Matt finally said, “a person can and should study these passages very, very carefully, and use all the tools and resources available to a modern Bible scholar. But it doesn’t take a PhD in theology to understand the meaning of the text. The preponderance of the evidence is clear. These biblical prophecies indicate that God has decreed judgment on the people living in Ammon, Moab, and Edom. These are facts. They’re not comfortable ones, especially in this modern age. But judgments are coming. And if you look at this text, and the many other prophecies about the future of Jordan found in Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Obadiah, Daniel, and elsewhere, you’ll find that God gives numerous reasons for such judgments. Because he can see the future, God has declared the people who live in these places in the last days guilty of arrogance, pride, hatred, violence, cruelty, injustice, worshiping false gods, and a profound lack of compassion toward women, royalty, neighbors, and particularly toward Judah, Jerusalem, and Israel.”
“And none of these judgments have already come to pass in history?” I asked.
“Some have, sure,” Matt said. “But not all.”
“How do you know for sure?”
“Well, for one thing, there are still people living and working and prospering in southern Jordan,” Matt replied. “But the text clearly indicates that the End Times judgment that is coming on Edom will be utter, final, and irreversible. Verse 13 says, ‘All its cities will become perpetual ruins.’ Verse 18 says, ‘No one will live there.’ And of course, the text likens the future destruction to the judgments of Sodom and Gomorrah. Guess where those two cities were located?”
“Jordan?”
“Southern Jordan.”
“Ouch.”
“Exactly,” Matt said. “So while Edom has been conquered in the past, it hasn’t experienced the absolute cataclysmic judgment that Jeremiah foretold in this chapter.”
“In other words, according to the Bible, this is all coming in the future?” I asked.
“Right—in the future, in the lead-up to the return of Christ,” Matt confirmed. “And that’s why this is weighing heavily on me. I have come to love this country, and I love its king. I mean, he’s not perfect; what leader is? But His Majesty really is one of the good guys. So was his father, King Hussein. These men made peace with Israel. They chose to be close allies with the U.S. and the British. King Abdullah has emerged as arguably the leading Reformer in the Arab world. He actively promotes a moderate, tolerant, peaceful model of Islam. He’s reached out to Christian leaders all over the world, Protestant and Catholic. For the most part, Jordanian Christians are treated kindly and with respect. Did you know a few years ago the king created a national park along the east bank of the Jordan River to protect it for Christian baptisms?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“And that’s not all,” Matt continued. “The king actually gave land to thirteen different Christian denominations to build churches and baptismal sites along the Jordan River. I’ve been there, J. B. I’ve seen hundreds of Christians baptized there since I came to study here.”
“Your point?” I asked, not wanting to be rude but not totally following some of his jargon.
“My point is that this king doesn’t strike me as a candidate for divine judgment,” Matt said. “Now, Isaiah tells us that God’s thoughts are higher than our thoughts, and his ways are higher than our ways, and I believe that. So in his sovereignty, God can bring righteous judgment on a nation that isn’t following him at any time. And Jordan, by and large, isn’t following him. But . . .”
“But what?” I asked, curious why he was suddenly hesitating.
“I don’t know,” he said, clearly searching for the right words. “After everything you’ve told me about ISIS, combined with what the Bible says about Jordan, I’m just wondering if this king is going to be toppled. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t want it to happen. He’s a good man, and he’s doing a great job in many ways. But I wonder if his days are numbered. What if the Arab Spring erupts here in Jordan? What if the king and his family are brought down and replaced by tyrants who lead the people to war against Israel, to war against the Christians, to the kind of social dynamic that is consistent with these Scriptures? I can’t say that’s what’s going to happen. I don’t know that for sure. But what if the return of Christ is sooner than most people think? And what if ISIS is the tool Satan uses to take Jordan down a long, dark path?”
47
We finally got out of the car and headed into Matt’s building.
As Matt pressed the button for the elevator, I realized I couldn’t procrastinate any longer. “Listen, Matt, there’s something else.”
“What?”
“You guys need to leave Jordan.”
The elevator door opened, and Matt shot me a look. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re not safe here. You need to go back to the States—immediately.”
“Immediately?”
“Tonight,” I said as we stepped into the elevator and the door slid shut behind us.
“J. B., are you crazy? I’m on a yearlong sabbatical. I’ve still got four months to go.”
“No, you and Annie have to take the kids and leave. Don’t worry about the cost. I’ll cover your tickets.”
“Because you think ISIS is going to attack Amman?”
“No, it’s not just that.”
“Then what?”
“It’s Abu Khalif.”
“What about him?”
“He mentioned you guys by name. He knows you’re here in Amman. He knows where you live. You’re not safe here, any of you. Mom’s not safe either. Abu Khalif made it clear that when he’s good and ready, he’s coming after all of us.”
> The bell rang and the door opened. We stepped out into the hall, but Matt stopped me before we went any farther. “You’re serious about this?”
“I’m afraid so. And you’ve got to move fast.”
“But why us? What does Khalif want with any of us?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I told you, the guy is a psychopath, a Hannibal Lecter with sarin. I’m just telling you what I saw and heard. What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t?”
Matt stood there in the hallway for a moment. I could see him trying to process all that I’d told him and what it meant for him and his precious family.
“Katie turned four last week,” he said softly.
“Already?” I said. I desperately wanted to make sure nothing happened to her.
“She’s in a Sunday school class at the church we’re going to,” Matt continued. “She loves it. Can’t wait to get there every week. And there’s a competition. For every Bible verse she memorizes, she gets a point. Whichever kid gets the most points by the end of the semester gets a prize. Right now, she’s in second place.”
I nodded but said nothing, not quite sure where this was headed.
“Do you know what her verses were for last week?”
“No,” I said. “What?”
“1 John 5:11-12.”
“Okay . . . ?”
“Do you remember that from when we were kids?”
“Can’t say I do; why?”
“‘And the testimony is this, that God has given us eternal life, and this life is in His Son. He who has the Son has the life; he who does not have the Son of God does not have the life.’”
“All right,” I said. “I guess I remember something like that, vaguely.”
“I’m not worried about us, J. B. The four of us know where we’re going. But what about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Annie and the kids and I have trusted Christ as our Savior,” he replied, lowering his voice to almost a whisper. “We have the Son. We’ve been forgiven our sins and adopted into the family of God—by grace, not because of anything good we did. Have you? We’ve been praying for you for years. And we were praying for you from the moment you left for Baghdad—for your safety, but more importantly for your soul. So I have to ask you: where are you with Christ right now?”
I tensed. “I appreciate your concern for me, Matt, I really do, but I—”
I suddenly had no idea how to finish that sentence, so I just stopped midflight.
“Look, this isn’t some game. Everywhere you go, people around you—people close to you—are dying. Someone’s gunning for you. And sooner than later, they may get you. I hope to God they don’t. I pray every day and every night they don’t, and I won’t stop. But the odds are against you, and they’re slipping fast. You need to make a choice—heaven or hell, in or out. What are you going to do with Jesus? You’re running out of time to decide.”
It was a valid question. Especially now. I just didn’t want to answer it.
“I don’t know,” I said, looking away.
“Why didn’t you ask Christ to save you while you were in Iraq? Don’t you realize how close you came to death?”
“Of course I do, but what do you want me to say? That I had a foxhole conversion? That I saw my life passing before my eyes and decided to accept Christ as fire insurance, just in case?”
“No, of course not. I’m not telling you to make some superficial leap into religion. Certainly not for my sake or Annie’s or Mom’s. What I’m saying is you need to make a serious decision, on your own, in your heart and in your head, based on the facts. Is Jesus the Messiah or isn’t he? Is he the only way to eternal life or not? The stakes couldn’t be higher. It’s not just life or death; it’s your eternity we’re talking about. And it’s time to choose, J. B. Before it’s too late.”
“Matt, for crying out loud, why are you pushing me on this?”
“I’m not pushing you.”
“Of course you are.”
“Okay, fine, I’m pushing you. But what else am I supposed to do? I love you. So do Annie and the kids. We care about you.”
“And you’re worried for me.”
“Of course we are. Aren’t you?”
I sighed and looked away. “Yeah, guess I am. But I’m not there, Matt. I’m sorry. I’m just not.”
It was quiet in the cluttered, narrow hallway. The only sound was the low hum of the fluorescent lights above us. The whole place was filled with kids’ bicycles and balls and dolls and empty soda bottles and various other kinds of family-related litter. It was a long way from the adorable little three-bedroom bungalow Matt and Annie used to live in near Boston before they had kids. A long way from my luxury penthouse apartment in Arlington, Virginia, too. We had very different lives, Matt and I. And now here we were in Amman of all places.
“Okay,” he said after a moment. “But I’m not going to stop.”
“Fine.”
“I’m going to keep praying for you.”
“I appreciate it.”
“And I’m going to keep asking you. Because at the end of the day, when it’s all said and done, the simple truth is I want to be with you and Mom and the whole family in heaven, and I’d never be able to forgive myself if I didn’t do everything I could to get you there. What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t?”
I sighed. He hadn’t changed a bit. I shrugged and nodded. He put his arm around me and walked me to his front door.
“Come on,” he said. “I’m starved, and Annie’s making her famous lasagna.”
We stepped around all the clutter, and Matt unlocked the door. As we entered the apartment, I expected a warm and enthusiastic greeting from Annie and the kids.
But that’s not what happened.
48
Greeting us were two plainclothes agents from the Jordanian secret police.
With them were two soldiers in full combat gear, sporting automatic weapons. Annie and the kids stood behind them, looking frightened.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Matt demanded.
“Are you Matthew Collins?” the lead agent asked.
“Of course. What do you want?”
“I am Ali Sa’id, chief of security for the Royal Court,” said the lead agent, who then turned to me. “And are you James Collins?”
“Why are you asking?”
“Are you or are you not James Collins?” the agent repeated.
“Yes, I am.”
“Then I need you to come with me.”
“Where? What in the world is going on?”
“You’ll understand soon enough.”
I protested, but it didn’t make any difference. These men clearly had their orders and weren’t taking no for an answer.
Matt gave me a hug and whispered in my ear, “We’ll be on the first flight out tonight.”
I said nothing but rather turned and hugged Annie, Katie, and Josh as tightly as I could. I didn’t want to let go. I so wanted to spend time with them. I wanted to play with the kids and hear their laughter. I wanted this family to help me get my mind off the terrible things I had seen and heard. After so many years of avoiding my brother, now I wanted to spend real time with him, see his life up close, and ask him a thousand questions. But right now I just hoped they would get out of the country before Khalif’s men hunted them down and butchered them like cattle.
The agents led me downstairs and put me in the backseat of a black, bulletproof Mercedes. We peeled away from Matt’s neighborhood with an urgency that only heightened my anxiety.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked, but the lead agent didn’t answer.
“Am I under arrest?”
Nothing.
“Am I being deported?”
Still nothing.
“Look, I’m an American citizen and an accredited member of the press,” I reminded them. “I have a right to know what’s happening.”
But my pleas fell on deaf ears.
We were heading back into the heart of Amman, I could see, and dense traffic slowed the journey. Given the route, I initially suspected they were taking me to the Interior Ministry. Omar and I had been there numerous times over the years to talk to high-ranking officials, including the minister. Then again, perhaps we might be going to see General Kamal Jeddeh, the head of the General Intelligence Directorate, another occasional source. But soon it became clear that both of these guesses were off the mark.
When we passed through the center of the city and began zigzagging through a series of side streets heading to the city’s northwest quadrant, my mind started racing. Was it possible? Were we really heading to Al-Hummar? I’d never been there before, and a visit there now of all times seemed unlikely in the extreme. Yet after a somewhat-lengthy and circuitous drive through the city, we eventually did arrive in the heavily guarded section of the capital where the Royal Court was located. The agents radioed ahead, and before I knew it, enormous steel gates were opening to us and the Mercedes pulled up in front of a huge building I’d seen countless times on television but never in person.
“Welcome to the palace, Mr. Collins,” Sa’id remarked before jumping out of the car and opening the door for me. “His Majesty is expecting you.”
I stepped out of the car. Baffled yet intrigued by this turn of events, I found myself staring up at a mammoth structure made of beautifully carved limestone with a slightly pinkish hue. I’d always thought of this building material as “Jerusalem stone,” but apparently it was common to the entire region. I saw five huge exterior archways, each leading to an equally huge interior archway. Framing the center archway were two flagpoles, one on each side, upon which the distinctive black, red, white, and green flag of the Hashemite Kingdom snapped smartly in the brisk December winds.
The Third Target: A J. B. Collins Novel Page 27
