“No matter,” said Kara. “I didn’t think to destroy him here at Jordan anyway.”
Berenius looked up hopefully. Kara smiled at him.
“Just so, Berenius.” Kara said. “One does not increase in popularity without also increasing in enemies. Our friend the Baptist has not only made a name for himself in the mud of Jordan but also in the mind of Herod.”
He watched as John waded back into the water to continue baptizing.
“John is bent on decreasing,” Kara continued. “Perhaps we can hasten that decline.”
Herod Antipas was the son of Herod the Great. Like his brothers Archelaus and Philip, he was educated in Rome—partially because of his father’s desire to school the boys in the culture of the world’s great power; and partially to clear them out of the way of the murderous intrigue that always surrounded Herod. Naturally ingratiating, Antipas became a favorite of the Roman court. After his brother’s short reign, he was eventually named tetrarch of Judea by none other than Augustus.
Politically astute and foxy by nature, Herod’s chief aim was to govern with as little unrest as possible and so stave off any Roman intervention in Jewish affairs. In order to demonstrate his allegiance to the Romans and to show his influence in Judea, he established a new capital, which was named after the new emperor Tiberias.
In matters of religion, Herod Antipas tried to set an example of outward piety. He celebrated Passover with great passion and had managed to snuggle up to the leading Jews who occupied places of political and religious importance. His was a kingdom of compromise, however, and his hypocrisy was not lost on John the Baptist.
“How long will I endure this man’s insults?” asked Herodias. “How long will you allow him to humiliate you in front of your subjects?”
She sneered.
“If your father Herod the Great were king…”
Herod violently flung his wine cup across the room and stopped up his ears as if to drown out a deafening noise.
“Do not invoke the name of my father the late king!” he screamed. Several guards looked into the chamber of the Hasmodean Palace where Herod and Herodias were staying in anticipation of the Passover. “I am Herod Antipas. I am king now!”
He looked up at his wife, who walked over to his side. She was lovely—but so, so demanding. Herod had first been married to Phasaelis, the daughter of an Arabian king. But taken in by the persuasive enticements of Herodias, he divorced Phasaelis.
Herodias had been the wife of Herod Antipas’ half-brother, and when he married her, though a common scandal among royalty, John condemned it as sinful and had begun railing about it publicly. Seizing upon the rage of Herodias, Kara had seeded in her mind a plan to humiliate John once and for all.
Herod told the guards to mind their own business and they hastily disappeared from view. Herodias moved in to console her husband, whose frequent outbursts—like this one—played into her hands. She knew how to handle men—and Herod was something even less than that.
“My husband, I am only looking out for your best interests,” she purred. “What do I care about this holy man? But you. You are king, are you not? Can you afford for this unlettered man of the wilderness to publicly mock you? And what about me? He has all but called me a harlot! Herod’s whore!”
She waited to see what effects her words were having upon him. Herod sat down in an ornate chair that was a gift from the king of Parthia. She picked up his cup and poured more wine. He sipped it and looked up at her.
“You do love me, don’t you my dear?” he pleaded.
“Of course my pet,” she answered, stroking his hair. “I love you so much I cannot bear anyone insulting you. That’s all. But I will drop the matter of John if you prefer…and if you are weary of opposing him…”
Kara and Berenius appeared behind Herod. They laughed aloud at this clownish king being manipulated by this very powerful woman. Kara looked at Herodias.
“Herodias is quite a potent women,” he commented. “She is subtle and clever and cold. Herod is absolutely captivated by her.”
“Herod is a fool,” said Berenius. “But he is a political strategist. I’m not sure he will move against John.”
Kara looked at Berenius, who stood to Herod’s left.
“He’ll be moved,” said Kara. “He may be politically wise, but he is also proud. In the end we shall appeal to his pride—just as his wife is doing. As Lucifer has said many times, pride is our greatest asset in waging this war. It is human pride that forced the decision at Eden. Human pride will bring about John’s destruction!”
Herod drank the cup of wine Herodias had given him. She continued to soothe his mood, stroking him and whispering affectionately in his ear.
“My sweet, you are my king and I only wish to see you lifted up,” she said.
Kara motioned to Berenius and knelt down beside Herod opposite where Herodias was bent down. As she whispered in one ear, Kara spoke into the other.
“And yet how can a king be lifted up in a country where every holy man with a mission can accuse the king and his wife…”
Herod’s eyes glazed over as he looked straight ahead. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
“You are king, Herod. And must act like one,” Herodias continued.
Herod nodded.
“But what she means is that you are not a real king as long as this dangerous man, who has the people’s heart, is allowed to freely charge the king with adultery…”
“Herodias?” Herod finally asked.
“Yes, my love,” cooed Herodias.
“I realize that this John is a nuisance,” he said. “And he has offended us both. But do you think he might be dangerous…I mean truly dangerous?”
Herodias moved in front of Herod, kneeling on the floor. She looked into his eyes.
“Dearest, you are such a loving and generous man,” she began. “You love everyone and desire to be loved. Your only fault is that you love your people as a good king should. But I believe your love for all of them has blinded you to the danger of some of them.”
“And John?” he asked. “A nuisance or a threat?”
“Anyone who violates the peace of the king violates the peace of the kingdom,” she said. “I believe he is a threat, my king.”
Herod stood and walked over to the window that looked toward the Antonia Fortress. To its right the work of the Temple proceeded. He turned to Herodias.
“This Temple begun by my father shall be completed by me,” he said. “This city, left to me by Herod the Great, shall be even greater after my reign. I have seen to the stability of this nation; I have placated the Romans; I have pacified the priests; I have brought order to the land. Am I not as great as my father?”
Herodias rushed to his side.
“Of course you are, my love,” she said. “You are the greatest of kings!”
He turned back toward the Temple. Kara sidled up to him.
“And yet one man—a self-declared holy man—dares to insult you—to instigate among the people a discontent…possibly even an insurrection…”
“And yet John preaches,” he muttered.
Herodias was taken aback.
“Yes, my king,” she said. “He is still preaching his hatred for you.”
Kara turned to Berenius.
“Well put,” Kara said. “That one sunk deep. I can sense his rage.”
“His hatred for you…”
Herod turned to the room and walked toward his chair. Kara followed him.
“Adultery…”
Herod sank down in his chair.
“What must the other nobles be thinking? What must the Romans be thinking?”
Herod was getting angrier by the moment. Herodias stood back, hoping her venom was finally hitting home.
“TREASON…”
Herod stood up and called for his guard.
“Bring me Aristas,” he ordered. “At once!”
Herodias smiled to herself.
Aristas, the chief o
f Herod’s security forces, came into the room. He bowed low.
“Majesty?” he inquired.
“I have a delicate matter of state that needs to be taken care of,” Herod began. “I want John the Baptist arrested and brought to Antonia.”
Aristas glanced at Herodias knowingly.
“It shall be done, majesty.”
“He is not to be hurt. He is merely to be detained for further investigation.”
“I will see to it,” said Aristas.
Herodias fawned upon Herod after Aristas departed. She wiped his brow with a cool rag and poured more wine for him.
“Now that was a king in action!” she said. “That is why you shall go down as one of the greatest of kings!”
Herod closed his eyes, relishing a rare, decisive moment.
Kara snickered and looked at Berenius. “Inform Lucifer that John’s detention has begun,” he ordered. “We await his final order on the matter.”
Berenius nodded at Kara.
“I am beginning to believe Israel is a nation of fools,” he said.
Kara looked at the royal couple and agreed.
“Yes, Berenius. And Herod is king of fools,” he sneered.
Chronicles of the Host
Galilee
The disposition of John was seen by Lucifer as a great victory and a step toward the elimination of Jesus as a threat. With John safely out of the way, it seemed only a matter of time before Jesus and His message of Kingdom would soon follow.
But Jesus continued teaching and preaching, establishing Himself in Galilee. The fame of Jesus began spreading throughout the land, for He was seen as a Man of authority and power, One filled with the wisdom and power of the Spirit of God.
At Cana, He healed the son of a nobleman, causing the people of that city to gloriously exclaim that two miracles had been wrought in their midst! But when He came to His own town, Nazareth, He knew that not everyone in Galilee was in agreement with Him. For He had said a prophet has no honor among his own people…
The synagogue at Nazareth was abuzz with excitement—a new holy man was to read today. Many Jews, both old rabbis and young students, gathered to hear the words and reading of One of their own—Jesus of Nazareth. Much had been said about this Man—the Son of a carpenter. All eyes were upon Him as He entered the little building and was given a seat of honor.
Nazareth itself was a small town, crowded for its size and very strongly attached to its Jewish roots. Jesus grew up here and was educated in the very synagogue in which He was about to read. His grasp of Hebrew and Aramaic, His understanding of history, and His knowledge of the Scriptures was a credit to the rabbis and other mentors who had educated Jesus as a young Man. When He left them, He was regarded as One of their greatest pupils. Unknown to them, He now returned as their greatest Teacher. Outside the synagogue, Crispin and several other angels watched the activity of the Sabbath. Men streamed into the synagogue, eager to continue the custom of their fathers.
“Men and their religion,” said Millas, a wisdom angel accompanying Crispin to the synagogue. “They do love it so.”
“Little good it does them, I’m afraid,” said Crispin, observing the pious men entering the building. “To be sure these men of Nazareth are simple and passionate. Good men for the most part. But we have seen that religion in and of itself leads nowhere. Perhaps this day our Lord will bring more light into their darkened hearts.”
“Darkened hearts?” came a voice.
Crispin turned to see Pellecus standing with a group of his own students. He looked over the angels with him.
“I see you are still accumulating students,” said Crispin.
“A good teacher never stops teaching, nor accumulating students,” said Pellecus. “Had the Academy of the Host realized that I would still be there.”
Crispin’s angels looked around at one another. A group of warrior angels moved in around the synagogue as if to protect it. Pellecus laughed at their arrival.
“I forget how dangerous I am,” he said. “I can assure you I have come only to witness the unveiling of Jesus of Nazareth. It should be interesting.”
Crispin smirked.
“I’m sure Jesus will be interesting to you and your charges,” he said. “Not to mention refreshing. The truth does that, you know.”
“These are the core of my own Academy,” said Pellecus, pointing out the angels who stood with him. Most of them were former angels of wisdom who had subsequently thrown in with Lucifer. “It shall rival the Academy of the Host, I assure you. And its doctrines will be forever remembered as great doctrines of truth.”
“Doctrines of demons you mean,” said Crispin. He shook his head. “I’m afraid, Pellecus, that for all of your philosophical juggling of Lucifer’s attitude, in the end it is nothing but shameful pride. And pride is the well-spring of every doctrine originating apart from the Most High.”
All eyes in the synagogue turned toward Jesus as He made His way to the front of the room. He picked up the prescribed book for the day. He took a moment and found the place in Isaiah from which He would read. The rabbis in the room closed their eyes to drink in the holy text as He began:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because He has anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor;
He has sent me to heal the brokenhearted,
to preach deliverance to the captives,
and recovering of sight to the blind,
to set at liberty them that are bruised,
to preach the acceptable year of the Lord.”
Jesus set the scroll down and took His seat. The rabbis awaited the customary commentary from their former pupil. Jesus looked at them earnestly, then announced, “Today, this scripture of the prophet is fulfilled in your hearing.”
The men looked about astonished. Some smiled at Jesus. Surely they had misheard…or perhaps he had misspoke. Others began to mutter among themselves that this was the son of Joseph the carpenter. Still others scowled at such insolence.
Outside among the angels, the declaration was just as dramatic as it was inside the synagogue. Pellecus smiled at the reaction of the humans. He looked back at his angels as if continuing one of his lectures.
“Once again the Lord is creating more problems than He is solving,” he began. “Notice that here is the Son of God—the very One they seek—declaring Himself the fulfillment of this remarkable prophecy. And what are they doing?” He glanced over at Crispin. “They are seething—as humans are prone to do. The Messiah is before them and they cannot see Him. It’s quite delicious.”
“Jesus declared Himself because it was His time,” said Crispin. “He isn’t here to impress these humans. He is here to enlighten them.”
“Well they are definitely enlightened,” said Crispin. “In fact they are enraged!”
As Pellecus spoke, the voices in the synagogue became louder and louder. Pellecus smiled at Crispin, who had a look of concern on his face. The warrior angels advanced, in case Jesus should call upon them.
One of the venerable old rabbis moved to the front of the room and put up his hands to hush the many voices. He turned to speak to Jesus with great courtesy.
“Excuse our indignation, my Son,” he began. “But it is just that we know You from this town. You are the son of Joseph and Mary. How could these Scriptures possibly apply to You?”
Several voices echoed in affirmation.
“No prophet is accepted in his own country,” said Jesus. “Do you recall the story of Elias, the prophet? There was great famine in those days but he was sent only to the widow of Sidon. And then there was the time when Elisha healed only Naaman of his leprosy even though there were many in the land who were afflicted. So it is that I must go where I am sent.”
The door burst open and the men of the synagogue took hold of Jesus, forcing Him out into the street. As He was being taken out, Jesus locked eyes with a man who was coming up the street toward Him. The man watched as Jesus disappeared into the growing
crowd.
A painful memory seized the man as he recalled a similar situation when he was a little boy and his own father had been taken away from him in the streets by Herod’s soldiers. He followed along behind the mob, curious as to the outcome.
“Mind Him there!” ordered one of the angels.
Crispin and the other holy angels quickly moved in among the cantankerous people, who had determined to throw Jesus down the steep hillside on the edge of town. Pellecus and his troop watched with great interest as the angels moved in, and Jesus suddenly walked out from among the throng as if they didn’t even see Him!
“Well done, well done!” shouted Crispin to the warriors, whose swords had blinded the minds and eyes of the men to Jesus’ escape. Some of the masses caught a glimpse of Jesus as He departed, but they continued with the crowd to see what would become of the blasphemer.
Pellecus watched as Jesus continued down the street. His disciples joined Him and they left the town. He looked at Crispin with an annoyed countenance.
“I was rather hoping they would tear Him limb from limb,” snorted Pellecus. “But no bother. We will have our way with Him in the end. Lucifer has vowed that Jesus of Nazareth shall yet die. He bleeds like any other man.”
“I can assure you, Pellecus,” said Crispin, “If Jesus bleeds it will not be like any ordinary man.”
“Bah! Away from this wretched place,” said Pellecus, who vanished along with his students.
The remaining angels watched as the warriors moved out of town to join Jesus. Crispin turned back to look at the angels who remained with him. Sensing a question among them, he finally invited their curiosity.
“Good Crispin, why did these men behave so violently?”
“Because men are always threatened by that which is greater than themselves,” he answered. “And some angels too, it seems.”
“But this is the Man they have been waiting for,” said another angel. “He told them so just now.”
Crispin nodded.
Final Confrontation Page 10
