He looked over at Crispin. “But I, for one, am looking forward to hearing from the greatest teacher in Heaven!”
The room again broke out in praises to the Lord and applause for the archangel, and the wise angel who was their instructor. Michael then began speaking.
“As you are learning, the human question is a complicated one. As angels and servants of the Most High God, it is our task to accomplish the Lord’s will in Heaven and on earth as He deems necessary. I heard a number of you before this session questioning the Lord’s longsuffering in dealing with such capricious spirits as human beings—the creature-turning-on-its-Creator sort of thing. But, beware. Angels were guilty of this before humans.”
Quiet held the room, as the angels clung to Michael’s words.
“Still, humans have, by their own choice you may recall, established a world that is essentially anti-God. It was not meant to be that way from the beginning. But this is the outcome of a free will that has tasted sin and gathered an appetite for it. We cannot question the Lord’s motives for loving creatures who treat Him in such unloving ways. As Gabriel said, we serve the Lord’s purposes, not our own.”
“Thank you Michael and Gabriel,” commented Crispin, who now took over the presentation and broke the silent spell of the room. “I’m certain your ministry on earth will be of great interest to these eager angels. And having once sat under my teaching, I’m also quite certain a portion of my instruction carried you in some of your more challenging moments.”
Michael and Gabriel laughed, nodding their heads in agreement. The room also fell to laughter.
“In all seriousness, I appreciated the sharp observation made by Michael concerning the ‘capricious’ nature of humans. It is quite true. Humans are a strange mixture of behaviors. Ever since the disaster in Eden, the one-time innocence that was known to those first humans has been distorted and mired in the darkness of pride and rebellion—a behavior we all witnessed in this very Kingdom in the distant past.
Crispin began to pace, clearly in his element.
“Our Lord had determined that in Eden He would create a people with whom He would fellowship in a way even angels cannot appreciate. Remember the speculations and the wonder leading up to that dramatic day when the first man was created? We didn’t know what the Creator was doing but we understood it would be glorious, whatever He did.”
Crispin closed his eyes as if drinking in the day in Eden so long ago.
“A’dam was a beautiful creature—almost god-like in his perfection. He was given the freedom to rule and govern the earth in the Lord’s name. He was given authority over all the creatures and even allowed to name them. He was to become the father of a great nation of humans who would live in fellowship with the Lord and would steward His world forever. He was given a mate…”
Upon these words a quiet rumble among the angels began. The word ‘Eve’ could be heard here and there in the room. Crispin looked over the sea of faces.
“Ah now,” Crispin continued, wagging a finger. “Eve is only a part of this problem. Many angels accuse Eve for the current state of affairs. I submit to you that the rebellion in Eden was the responsibility of A’dam—not Eve!”
The reaction in the room was one of surprise.
“You see, Michael, angels can learn something!”
Michael and Gabriel smiled.
“Yes! Hear me! A’dam was the responsible party in Eden. It was to A’dam that the law was given—not to Eve. It was A’dam to whom the responsibility for upholding the law was delivered—not to Eve. Now, Eve was a catalyst, to be sure. But A’dam? Did he attempt to stop her as she fell into the trap of our enemy? Where was he? He was standing there when it happened and complicit in the crime!
“So instead of remaining true to God’s one great prohibition to him and possibly atoning for her sin by obeying the Lord, he himself disobeyed the very law God Most High had delivered to him personally! Eve fell prey to her own senses and the subtle cunning of a far greater intellect. But A’dam? He fell prey to himself—a far deadlier adversary.”
“Good teacher!” an angel shouted. “Are you saying that A’dam might have prevented the current state of affairs had he remained true—even after Eve ate?”
Crispin was annoyed at the interruption.
“I would prefer to wait on your questions until after the presentation, but as this has always been a point of sharp debate among the Host, I will answer your question by simply saying we shall never know. But wouldn’t it be interesting to discover what the outcome might have been had A’dam stayed true—despite Eve’s disobedience?”
He looked to the archangels standing near him.
“You were both there in Eden, as were some of these in attendance. It was a tremendous contest of wills. I like to think that perhaps A’dam’s obedience might have made all the difference. Perhaps not. In any case we shall never know.”
Michael’s mind sped back to that bitterly disappointing day when the plan of God fell victim to the pride of man. He recalled Eve’s discussion with the serpent. Lucifer certainly was in top form that day. He used the cunning and intellect of a beast to tempt Eve into failure.
The memory of thousands of angels—wicked and holy—swooping in and watching the drama unfold in the center of the garden was especially poignant. The evil angels under Lucifer’s control were baiting and hostile, laughing, cajoling, and encouraging the trap. The holy angels, horrified at the humans’ disgrace, could only watch in silent shame as A’dam and Eve walked from innocence into death.
“I mentioned two minds at work on earth. For there is indeed another mind that is active and engaged—far more cunning than that of man—and one that has seeded in mankind a destructive nature driven by pride and destined for destruction. It is this carrier of iniquity—this depraved and fallen spirit that has overtaken the world and who, through the assistance of other like-minded spirits, fosters the insanity now flourishing in the one-time paradise.”
“Lucifer,” someone whispered.
“Yes, of course,” said Crispin with a sense of resignation. “Lucifer, called Satan by our Lord through some of the human prophets—the adversary. Our one-time brother who, with his horrible group of compliant and ambitious angels—low spirits all and demons by designation—kindle in men the very passions now holding them prisoner.
“These base spirits fill the minds and hearts of humans with all manner of wickedness, and sensuality; with a lust for power and an appetite for wealth. And then, assuming the role of earthly gods, they swagger for the men who swear by them, priests and prophets in unholy alliance with fallen angels, fostering meaningless religious ceremony that finds salvation in itself, but whose end is only death.”
“Good master, why would humans who have rejected the Living God serve this or that god on earth?” asked Alamar, a warrior whom Michael had recently pegged to join him on earth.
“Excellent question, Alamar,” said Crispin, who had decided to open the teaching up to discussion. “The reason for such behavior is quite evident—and is a great paradox. Since their disobedience in Eden, humans became essentially anti-God, as you have reminded us. Yet they also possess a God-ward thrust—an inner spirit that careens them through life in search of meaning—to link up with that which has been lost in antiquity, so to speak. Of course, devoid of truth, and left to their own devices, and encouraged by dark spirits and their own base instincts, they find refuge in things carnal and earthly, dark and forbidden…”
He paused then added, “This is the price of rebellion…the fruit of pride. For they long for truth and connection with their Creator, yet have settled for something far inferior. And in their blind quest they pursue the very truth they have rejected while rejecting the very truth they pursue!”
“So what hope do humans have?” Alamar continued. “I will of course serve the Lord my God in any task. But it seems humans have lost their ability to relate to the Lord in a holy way. Why does He continue this ministry to them?�
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Crispin looked at Gabriel, who nodded and began speaking.
“Because the Lord, ever willing that humans regain that pre-fallen state, is at work on earth and has been since Eden,” remarked Gabriel. “Remember, while Eden was the site of great misfortune, it was also the beginning of great hope. It was at Eden that the Lord prophesied the One who should come and undo the work of darkness begun by Lucifer.”
“And it was in Eden the Seed was first mentioned,” added Michael. “The Seed that has recently been delivered in Bethlehem.”
“And thus it becomes our ministry to serve mankind by serving the Child,” continued Crispin. “Oh I don’t pretend to understand how the Child Jesus will do it. But the fact He is the Son Incarnate, born of a woman, must be giving Lucifer something worrisome to think about.”
“Remember the circumstances of the Child’s birth,” said Gabriel.
“And what are we to do to serve the Son?” asked another.
“I suspect the Son comes to do what A’dam was unable to do,” said Crispin. “To remain true to His Father. And in so doing, He will crush the head of Lucifer. It’s all been foretold.”
“Ah!” exclaimed Alamar. “So through obedience the Son will crush the serpent!” He paused for a moment. “But what is so extraordinary about that? Can mere obedience undo the darkness of sin?
Crispin looked at the angel intently.
“There is nothing ‘mere’ about obedience,” he said. “No human has been able to maintain an obedient relationship with the Most High—some angels have not. Obedience has been a catalog of failure where humans are concerned. But I assure you this, if obedience is the key to the Son’s crushing of Lucifer, then it shall be an extraordinary obedience indeed. And at great cost.”
He motioned Gabriel to be ready.
“But now, we shall hear from the one whose ministry was so closely aligned with the Seed’s delivery on earth. And I trust that you will see, Alamar, even mere obedience has its place in the plans of our Lord.”
King Herod observed the dedication of a newly completed building he had ordered to be constructed. He watched an official from his court stand by as a priest prayed over the site—which was to be a charitable office governed by the temple wards. As the priest prayed, his eyes scanned the horizon of the dusty, noisy, and always-agitated city of Jerusalem. There in the distance, just to the right of the new building, the Temple could be seen.
The Temple project, an ambitious work and Herod’s pride, had been going on for some 22 years. It was truly a marvel. In hopes of an obvious and favorable comparison, Herod made sure to use the same type of soft white stones used for Solomon’s Temple. Called “the Great” largely because of his magnificent buildings, amphitheaters, sporting centers, ports and the mighty fortress of Masada, Herod now employed some 10,000 workmen to build the Temple, including over 1,000 priests, whose presence was necessary since laymen could not enter the Temple proper. It was to be his crowning achievement, one that would secure his legacy in the minds and hearts of this cantankerous people.
But now, with the sun bearing down, he grew impatient over the long prayer of the priest. As the prayer droned on he thought backwards in time to his ascension to power through the political connivance of his father. He recalled the early days of consolidating power and partnering with Rome; he looked toward the Temple and thought of the future he was building for his children. But mostly he thought of his own immortality.
Herod was getting old, and saw every minute as precious. For all his intrigue and political skill he could not manufacture more time for his life. So he guarded his life very carefully. Suspicious by nature, Herod had obtained his throne through subtlety and murder and had retained it the same way. Anyone he considered a threat to his throne was immediately dealt with—up to and including his own wife and children. It was an uneasy kingdom over which Herod reigned.
Finally the priest finished. The ceremonial party looked up at the sedan chair in which Herod sat, borne by four large Egyptian slaves that had been a gift from the Roman governor. Herod stepped down from his perch and walked over to the site. He took the golden goblet from the hand of the priest and poured wine along the doorstep of the building.
“I hereby call you as witnesses that this office is now officially open,” Herod said with great reverence. “May it be a blessing to the poor in this nation of ours. And may the Lord always bless our nation.”
“So be it,” said the officials.
Then the priest took the cup and poured wine onto the pavement in front of the entrance. Several drops of the dark red liquid splashed on Herod’s robe. The priest gasped in terror and stepped back, as did several of the other officials. Herod looked down at the robe and then back at the trembling priest. He smiled and the tension broke.
Herod quickly turned and stepped back into his chair, ordering the slaves to take him on to the Temple. He would inspect its progress. He motioned for the Temple Warden to approach him. The man nervously came to Herod’s sedan.
“Yes, sire?” said the warden.
“Wonderful ceremony,” Herod said, swatting at a fly with a horse-tail baton.
“Many thanks, my king,” said the man. “Your presence here is always inspiring.”
“Yes. Today it was exceedingly inspiring.” He lifted up the skirt of his ruined robe. “See to it this priest is removed to a less public duty.”
“At once, sire,” returned the warden as the sedan began moving.
The guard who accompanied Herod went ahead and cleared a path for him. Herod hated traveling with an armed unit, but the Romans insisted on it and besides, there were many living relatives of those executed under his orders. As he moved through the narrow street he sat back in the chair, the curtains drawn so no one could see inside.
Suddenly the sedan was knocked to one side. Herod slipped onto the floor, caught off guard. He could hear screaming outside. It was a man ranting about the cowardice of Herod and how he was a Roman lapdog unfit to rule in Judah. The guards cleared the area, calling for reinforcements as a crowd gathered. In minutes, Roman sentries arrived and dispersed the crowds.
Once the situation was under control Herod stepped out. The crowd gasped in astonishment as their king emerged from the sedan. He looked at the hate-filled eyes of a man of about 30. The man looked like any other Jew, except he had a fire in his eyes that was unnerving, even to Herod. An officer produced a dagger the man had concealed in his cloak and had intended to use on the king. Herod walked over to the man who was held securely by his guards.
“Did you mean this for me?” asked Herod.
“Yes” answered the man. “I intended it for your black heart.”
“But what have I done to you?” asked Herod, now clearly in control and aware of his audience. “Do I know you? Have we ever met?”
“You are a murderer and a fraud,” the man continued, turning his head this way and that, speaking to the silent crowd “I know I shall die for this, but it will have been worth it for my son to remember that I resisted you. If only he would have remembered me killing you!”
Herod looked over at a woman under Roman guard who was crying. She held the hand of a small boy about four years of age. Herod looked at the boy.
“Is this your son?” Herod asked, with chilling gentleness.
“Yes,” said the man, nervous as Herod made his way over to the boy. “My wife knew of my intentions and came to stop me. But I’m glad my son saw this. He will remember this day. And one day he will grow up and perhaps bring freedom to my people.”
“No doubt, no doubt,” said Herod, stroking the young boy’s head. “I’m not sure if he will ever grow up to be a freedom fighter. Perhaps he won’t even grow up at all.”
The boy’s mother began crying and begging for her son’s life. Herod waved her off as if to say that the boy would be spared. “But he will indeed remember the day he saw his father die. Take this man to the place of execution! And the boy.”
The crowd
gasped once more and Herod was satisfied that this display of swift justice should remind them whose authority they were under.
“You will die one day, Herod!” screamed the man as he was led away. “You will stand before the Judge of Heaven and Earth! There is a King coming who will take your place—the place of all authority in Israel!”
The last words were cut off by a severe blow to his mouth, administered by one of the guards. Herod watched as the mother followed after, pleading for her husband to be quiet and begging for his life. The boy broke away and looked back at Herod.
“Simon!” she screamed at the boy. “Stay with me!”
Then the two disappeared in the crowded street. People began talking in hushed conversation, looking and pointing and watching Herod. For his part, Herod became uncomfortable with the situation and quickly climbed back into his chair.
“Get me back to the Antonia! At once, you fools!” he shouted.
The guards closed in tightly around Herod as they hastily made their way back to Herod’s fortress palace in Jerusalem. He had decided to visit the Temple construction site another day.
As the band moved through the street on its way back to the Antonia, a messenger approached the party. Herod’s personal aide waved him through. The courier bowed low and handed the note to the aide, who in turn handed it to Herod. Herod took the dispatch and read it.
“Well, now, this is interesting,” he said, handing the message back to his aide. “It seems we have visitors in Jerusalem—three of them to be exact.”
CHAPTER 2
“How can this be? I am a virgin!”
“Tell us about the birth,” someone spoke from the back.
Final Confrontation Page 2
