by Brian Godawa
Moshe took over for Elihu. “Hear then the words of the prophet Isaiah about Messiah as the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world: ‘He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth. Like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, so he opened not his mouth.
“‘He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. He was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely, he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows, yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions. He was crushed for our iniquities. Upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray. We have turned—every one—to his own way, and Yahweh has laid on him the iniquity of us all.’”28
Moshe stopped to let his words sink in. The feasts of Israel were all known to herald the Messiah. By claiming that Jesus fulfilled all the feasts, the Witnesses were claiming that the messianic “age to come” had arrived.29 Jewish leaders of gangs in the wilderness of the Great Revolt were claiming to be Messiah rising up to save the nation of Israel from the Romans. But Jesus was the suffering Servant of Isaiah who would save his people spiritually from their own sin and usher in a heavenly kingdom, not an earthly military one. It was something only a remnant of Jews could accept. The majority of them could not. And so they would die in the flames of God’s judgment.
Retreating into an alley out of sight of the crowd, Alexander left a small burlap sack with food in it for the Two Witnesses in a hidden location beneath some rocks, as had been secretly arranged in advance. Because of their holy mission, Moshe and Elihu were widely hated, but no one touched them, not even soldiers. Some had claimed they saw invisible guardian angels protecting them. Others had tried to hurt them but were killed by strange circumstances.
Alexander knew God’s special protection of the Two Witnesses was because they were performing God’s purpose of legal prosecution. They were the representation of the Law and the Prophets that witnessed to Israel’s unfaithfulness to her husband, Yahweh. Theirs was the heavenly testimony that would justify the capital punishment of Israel as a spiritual harlot. Two witnesses.
If anyone knew that Alexander was helping Moshe and Elihu, they would no doubt hand him over to the authorities to be tortured and executed. He did not have God’s guarantee of protection as did the Two Witnesses. So Alexander kept his service a secret.
Alexander was walking back to the hippodrome, where he had established a makeshift hospital for the city’s sick and wounded, when he caught sight of a man emerging at a full run from the front entrance of the hippodrome. As the man drew closer, Alexander recognized him as one of his Christian assistants. The doctor had only a handful of such helpers from the brethren these days because that despicable Jacob ben Mordecai had manipulated the Sanhedrin to force the Christians into conscripted labor in the rock mines.
Jacob was an apostate from the Christian faith, and because he was in authority over Alexander’s hospital, he sought every way he could to make Alexander and the Christians suffer. In addition to eliminating most of Alexander’s assistants, he had also cut back on resources for the sick and wounded. But the heretic’s most egregious attack on Alexander had been his attempted rape of Alexander’s wife Cassandra. Alexander had stopped him and beaten him bloody in her defense. Cassandra had not pressed charges in exchange for more resources for the sick. But that advantage had soon withered, so it was good that Cassandra had left the city.
Alexander knew that Jacob was intent on not allowing him to ever see Cassandra again. What Jacob could not have, he would seek to destroy.
Spotting Alexander, the running man skidded to a stop and gasped out, “Alexander, thank God you are here! I was coming to find you. We just received news. There’s been a cave-in at the mines. Our brethren...”
He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Alexander knew. And he dreaded what he would find.
CHAPTER 5
The mines were in the northern part of the city. Alexander ran so hard that his lungs were burning like fire by the time he reached them. A large tent had been erected outside the mine entrance, and through its thin walls Alexander could hear moans of pain and cries for help. He entered to find dozens of victims of the cave-in lying on mats and tables. These were no strangers, but people he knew, Christians who had helped him in the hippodrome.
Blood was everywhere as were crushed legs and arms. These poor men were reaping the consequences of Jacob deliberately sending the Christians to the most dangerous part of the mine.
An on-site doctor was already there overseeing the victims. He said to Alexander, “I have them stabilized. I’ll need your help with surgery, but there’s one still trapped in the mine. They can’t get him out.”
“I’ll be right back.” Emerging from the tent, Alexander broke into a run toward the mine entrance. Inside, he found his way lit by torches. The tunnel was a good thirty feet wide. He passed miners who were waiting for the dust to settle before returning to work. The tunnel eventually opened up into a larger area where the quarrying of limestone was performed.
By now Alexander was several hundred feet in and perhaps a hundred feet below the surface. The further he advanced, the thicker became the dust in the air. Coughing, Alexander pulled his tunic up over his mouth to filter out the dust. Eyes watering, he spotted a large pile of rubble where the cave roof had collapsed. Several miners showed him over to a single worker still trapped beneath a large rock.
Alexander recognized the young man as one of the Christians who had assisted him in the hippodrome. He knelt down on the ground next to the pinned miner. “Brother Daniel.”
“Alexander,” Daniel responded with difficulty. “How are you today?”
Alexander forced a smile in response to the young man’s courageous attempt at humor. “I’m fine.”
Daniel let out a groan before gasping, “I'm doing better than you. I’m about to meet Jesus face to face.”
The young miner’s legs and lower torso were crushed beneath the large rock. He was not going to live much longer. Blood was soaking the dirt beneath him.
Alexander fought back tears as he responded, “Daniel, you are a brave man. And you have been a model of Jesus to everyone around you. Thank you for your service and for your example.”
“Did the others get to safety?” Daniel asked.
“Yes, they did. We’re going to help them.”
Daniel grunted in pain, then asked, “Would you pray with me, brother?”
“Of course.” Alexander placed his hand on Daniel’s shoulder, closed his eyes, and prayed, “Heavenly Father, thank you for saving Daniel from his sins and for the Holy Spirit who is the guarantee of our inheritance. Receive him into your presence. We look forward to the Resurrection and our glorified bodies that will be like Messiah’s.”
He opened his eyes. Daniel was dead.
Alexander remained kneeling for a few moments in silence before making his way back out the tunnel.
When he arrived back at the tent, Alexander approached the resident physician and received a report on what surgeries were needed. The two doctors split them up, taking the worst cases first. Only a handful of doctors remained in Jerusalem, and with his Roman military background Alexander was easily the most experienced. His work at the hippodrome had garnered him a reputation of greatest respect among the other physicians, and each helped the others where they could.
Alexander began work on a miner whose left leg was completely crushed. It would have to be amputated. Many others would be crippled by lame arms or legs. He was still examining the patient when a man in his early fifties, somewhat tall and thin with a balding head, entered the tent. Jacob ben Mordecai, Alexander recognized sourly.
“For God’s sake, another cave-in?” Jacob’s tone held such contempt Alexander wanted to slug him. “I cannot afford this. I am losing too many laborers.”
Alexander held his temper firmly in check as he asked peaceab
ly, “May I speak with you after I’ve completed the surgeries?”
“If you think I have the time to stand around waiting for you, you are mistaken!” Jacob replied. “Come to my home when you’re done here.”
“Thank you.” Returning to his patient, Alexander prepared a bone saw. Two people held the injured man down. A reed had been placed in his mouth to bite down on, and he had been chewing on opium leaves to help with the pain. But these measures would be of minimal help for the trauma of having his leg sawn off.
As an imperial physician in the Roman legions, Alexander had a lot of experience with these kind of surgeries. Over the years he’d worked on soldiers from battlefields with every kind of wound one could imagine. He had seen it all from gashing cuts to crushed limbs to spilled intestines. But these Christian victims were not soldiers. They were simple farmers, shepherds, and tradesmen forced into dangerous hard labor.
Placing the saw on the upper thigh of the victim’s mangled leg, Alexander began to saw. The sound of grinding steel on bone mixed with screams of pain penetrated right into his soul.
Come quickly, Lord Jesus! he prayed. Vindicate your martyrs!
There would be many amputations today. Some men would not make it. Others would be crippled for life, unable to care for themselves or their families. But did it really matter?
God’s wrath was coming upon this city.
After finishing with the cave-in victims, Alexander arranged for them to be brought to the hippodrome where he could care for them during their recovery. Only ten out of twenty-three had survived. Once all were settled, he walked from the hippodrome across the valley into the upper city where the apostate Jacob lived in what used to be the residence of Boaz, one of the elders of the Christian congregation in Jerusalem. After Boaz and the Christians left the city for Pella, Jacob had simply confiscated the residence for himself, as many had done with Christian houses across the city.
It continued to amaze Alexander how the trauma of civil strife and impending war brought out the darker side of souls. Jewish Christians had first been fair game for persecution by their countrymen. Then the Romans had made it acceptable to torture and murder them along with Gentile believers. The theft of their property completed the cycle of violence against followers of Christ.
A knock on Jacob’s door was answered by Nathan, Jacob’s pepper-haired head servant who sported a scar across his cheek, a sign of his master’s lack of restraint. Nathan had a secret connection with Alexander and Cassandra that Jacob did not know about. The servant had felt pity for the way Jacob was persecuting the Christians, so over the last year he’d fed helpful information to Alexander.
Unfortunately, he was also a witness to Jacob’s attempted rape of Cassandra and had done nothing to stop it. Nathan was a coward with a fragile conscience.
The servant led Alexander into the atrium, where Jacob was tending to his flower bushes, evidently fancying himself an Adam in his own Garden of Eden. These meetings between Alexander and Jacob were rare and full of tension. Because of his political machinations, Jacob was still the authority over the hippodrome hospital. An apostate of hell controlled the resources and food rations of Alexander’s ministry of God. Yahweh sure had a sense of irony as he used the perverse to achieve his purposes. Though sometimes Alexander could not understand why.
So he had to trust God.
Jacob eyed Alexander’s clothes, blood-stained from his surgeries. “Please don’t sit down anywhere. Blood is almost impossible to clean off.”
Alexander nodded acquiescence. “I came here to ask you for favor.”
Jacob raised an eyebrow. “You seek my favor?” he demanded with sarcasm, wielding his power over Alexander as a weapon.
“It is not for me. It is for the city. I need you to release the Christians back into my service in the hippodrome.”
“You do, do you? And how many of them died today?”
“Thirteen.”
“Tragic,” said Jacob. But Alexander knew he didn’t care. It was, after all, Jacob’s intention to make the Christians suffer.
“Jacob, you know Rome is coming to besiege Jerusalem. And that means the hippodrome will be overflowing with sick and wounded. I will not be able to handle the numbers with the handful of assistants that I have. I need the others that are in the mine.”
“We are not yet under siege.”
“Not yet. But when we are, there is no one else in the city who will volunteer to help the few doctors except the Christians. The more they are killed in the mines, the more Jerusalem suffers.”
Alexander could see from Jacob’s thoughtful expression that his reasoning was getting through. Surely praise of being the one who provided help to the sick and wounded would appeal to the man’s self-interest. He pressed on.
“The city walls have been mostly rebuilt with the stone they’ve quarried. You don’t need the same amount of labor as before. Let me have the Christians back. We will prepare the hippodrome, and you will receive the credit for an efficient help of wounded soldiers in a time of war.”
“You make a good argument.” As Jacob appeared to consider his words, Alexander relaxed at the moment.
Then Jacob’s thin lips curved in a malicious smile. “So, yes, I will release them when the siege begins. In the meantime, why don’t you pray that Jesus protect them from accidents in the mines? Isn’t he supposed to be your miracle worker?”
Alexander deflated, his stomach sinking to his toes. He had done his best. He had prayed. He had sought to be respectful. He had sought justice. But still he had lost. Lord, why do the righteous suffer and the wicked prosper?
“Leave me,” said Jacob. “I have work to do.”
When Alexander arrived back at the hippodrome, he found a letter waiting for him from Cassandra. Her words alone could comfort him in time of despair.
Cassandra, to my beloved husband Alexander.
I pray this letter finds you well and fulfilling your calling from the Lord Jesus Christ. It has been so long since I have felt your strong embrace and your healing arms of love around me.
Rachel’s interests have turned to marriage and Noah is training to fight well with a sword. They are growing up too fast.
Your son Samuel is just over a year old now. His presence calms my spirit because he reminds me of you. I pray with all my heart for the day that you will finally meet him. That we will all be reunited.
The Ebionites have grown so strong in numbers and effect that they have become a danger to the future of the body of Christ. Pray for Boaz and the elders as they organize a council to deal with their poisonous teachings.
May God bless you, my husband. And may he allow us to be together again soon. I love you and miss you and pray for you every day.
CHAPTER 6
Simon bar Giora and Aaron ben Hyam met with military leaders in a large home of the wealthy Upper City confiscated for Simon’s headquarters. These totaled a dozen Jewish captains of thousands and a few officers of their Idumean allies.
Aaron pinned a map of Jerusalem and its surrounding territory on the wall for all to see as they gathered around.
The young Essene monk had been through much with Simon over these past few years, rising to become one of his most trusted officers. He’d been just sixteen when he first contacted Simon several years ago, offering him the wealth of the Qumran community if he would train the monks in the art of war. The Essenes had believed they were God’s chosen people, set to take over the holy city and temple once a final battle against the Roman armies purged the corruption of the Jewish priesthood and ushered in the Messiah. Their sectarian scriptures prophesied this victory.
Aaron and his squad had not been at Qumran when the Romans arrived and killed everyone in their small commune on the shore of the Dead Sea, burning it to the ground. So now Aaron and his small band of Essene warriors were following Simon like orphans without a home. They were also orphans of God because everything Aaron believed in had been smashed and destroyed. All their prop
hecies proven false. All their hopes and dreams ripped to pieces like their scrolls.
Simon felt sorry for his young protégé, but then Simon had experienced his own disillusionment. A life-shattering one that brought kinship with the young monk.
Years earlier, Simon had been captain of the temple guard when he was betrayed by his lieutenant John of Gischala, who’d framed Simon as a traitor, forcing him to escape the city. Simon had become a bandit in the wilderness, leaving everything behind, including a secret love affair with the Herodian princess Berenice, sister of King Agrippa. Gischala had become a military leader in the current Jewish civil war. Trying unsuccessfully to take over the city, he’d wound up in control of the temple complex.
To get his revenge on Gischala was one of the reasons Simon had returned and seized control over the city. His other reason was a certain Roman general on his way to Jerusalem.
“When Titus arrives,” said Simon, pointing at the map, “He will no doubt avoid the Kidron and Hinnom valleys. They are too steep for attack. The obvious choice is the western wall up near the New City.”
Everyone agreed. Simon said, “We must get ready for the siege with a focus on the western wall.”
Aaron looked quizzically at him. “So, you are planning to stay after all?”
Simon had told his army that he wanted to take down Gischala, but then be gone before Rome arrived because it was a war they could not win.
“I have no delusions of defeating Rome,” said Simon. “My intentions are for Gischala and Eleazar.”
Eleazar ben Simon was the Zealot leader who had taken the inner temple hostage from Gischala, thus breaking up the city into three rival factions led by Simon, Gischala, and Eleazar.
