“As soon as you’ve had a chance to review the draft document I gave you and to come up with recommendations on how to improve it, please call me and we’ll get back together,” he told Hansen.
“I’ll do that,” answered Hansen.
With that the men shook hands and Milner and Sabudu left. Afterward Hansen told Jackie to inform the senior staff that there would be a 4:30 meeting and they’d all be working a little late.
“Well,” Jackie told Christopher, as soon as Ambassador Hansen closed the door to his office, “it looks like you’ll have plenty of time at the Saudi exhibit. I’ll give Decker the message for you.”
“Thanks,” said Christopher, as he headed for the door. Before he reached it, though, it opened again. It was Milner.
“Christopher, will you be at the Saudi exhibit this evening?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. I’m going there now.”
“Good, I’ll see you there. They have a really wonderful presentation on Islam, including some exquisite models of the mosques in Mecca and Medina.”
Six weeks later
Tel Aviv, Israel
Tom Donafin dabbed his finger across the bristles of his toothbrush to see if he had applied enough toothpaste. Satisfied that he had, he replaced the tube in its assigned spot on the counter by the sink. He had now been blind for about six months and was learning to live with it. Fortunately, he had always preferred wearing a beard so he didn’t have to worry about shaving. And when he’d taken an apartment on the same floor in her building, Rhoda had helped him set up his closet and drawers so that he could pick out matching clothes to wear.
He thought it might still be a little early, but as soon as he was dressed he locked up and walked down the hall toward Rhoda’s apartment. Feeling his way with his long white cane, he reached the end of the hall, turned, and counted his steps to her front door. He had done this many times by himself, and there was really no possibility he would go to the wrong door. Still, he had suggested to Rhoda that they carve a heart and their initials into her door so he could always be sure he had the right apartment. Rhoda had thought better of the idea.
Tom knocked at the door and was greeted a moment later with a very warm kiss, which he gladly returned. “You’re early,” Rhoda said. “Come on in. I was just about to change.”
“Should I cover my eyes?” Tom joked.
“It’s not your eyes I’m concerned about; it’s the pictures in your mind. You just wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.” In the past Tom had always avoided any real involvement with a woman because he feared rejection because of his disfigurement. Strangely, now that he couldn’t see, it was no longer a problem.
Tom made his way to the couch and sat down. On the coffee table Rhoda kept a book for beginning Braille students. He picked it up, intending to get in a little practice, but noticed a single sheet of paper sitting on top. Running his fingers over the formations of bumps one at a time, he determined the characters on the page. “I love you,” it said.
Tom didn’t mention the note to Rhoda when she came from her bedroom.
“All ready,” she said.
Tom got up and walked toward the door. Rhoda met him halfway and placed his hand in the now familiar spot on her arm. “Rabbi won’t know what to think when we get to Havdalah early,” she said.
“That won’t be his only surprise tonight,” Tom added, and though he couldn’t see it, he was confident that there was a smile on Rhoda’s face.
After dinner at Rabbi Cohen’s house, everyone moved to the living room. Benjamin Cohen, who alone with his father was the only member of the rabbi’s family to survive the Disaster, turned off the lights as his father prayed and lit the three wicks of the tall blue-and-white braided Havdalah candle. The Havdalah, or “separation,” marked the end of the Sabbath and the beginning of the work week, the distinction of the holy from the secular. Along with the Cohens and Tom and Rhoda there were nine others present. Originally there had been many more in Cohen’s congregation, but the Disaster had reduced their number by more than a hundred and fifty. Now they could fit easily into Cohen’s living room. Of those present, some, like Rhoda, had started attending Cohen’s services only a few weeks or months before the Disaster. Others had joined the group afterward.
As the flame grew, Saul Cohen took the candle and held it up. In accordance with tradition, those in the circle responded by standing and holding their hands up toward the light with their fingers cupped. Though he could not see the flame, Tom could feel the heat of the large candle and he did as Rhoda had taught him. It meant nothing to him beyond simply being a tradition, but it was important to Rhoda and so he did it.
As they had planned, after the Havdalah, Tom and Rhoda waited for everyone to leave so they could talk with Rabbi Cohen alone.
“Tell me, Tom,” Cohen asked, “how did my favorite skeptic like tonight’s message?”
“Well,” Tom said, “I understood what you were saying, but don’t you think it’s kind of narrow-minded to say that there’s only one way for a person to get into the kingdom of God?”
“It would be, Tom,” Cohen answered, “were it not for the fact that the one way God offers is entirely unrestricted, completely free, and totally accessible to each and every person on the planet. God is no farther from any of us than our willingness to call upon him. Would it be narrow-minded to say there is only one thing everyone must breathe in order to live?”
“But air is available to everyone,” Tom countered.
“Tom, so is God. The Bible says in the book of Romans that God has made himself known to everyone. It doesn’t matter who you are or where you live or what your religious background is. It’s up to each person as an individual whether he will answer God’s call. And Tom, one of the great things about it is that once you’ve answered that call you’ll find it’s absolutely the most natural thing in the world. Even,” Cohen laughed at his own unexpected turn of phrase, “more natural than breathing.”
The subject was worthy of further discussion but right now Tom had something else on his mind. As a transitional step to what he really wanted to talk about, Tom decided to ask the rabbi something he had wondered about for a while. “Rabbi,” he said, “there’s something I don’t understand: if you no longer believe as the other Hasidim believe, why do you still wear the attire and earlocks of Hasidim?”
Rhoda looked away in embarrassment; she would never have asked the question herself, but it was something she had often wondered about. She felt sure the rabbi would know she had mentioned it to Tom. After all, how else could Tom know what the rabbi wore?
“It is my heritage,” Cohen answered. “Even the Apostle Paul, whom Messiah charged with bringing the word to the Gentiles, did not change his ways, except as it was necessary to accomplish his mission. Besides,” added Cohen, “there are many years of wear left in these clothes. Why should I buy new?”
Cohen smiled, but Tom, who could only assume that Cohen was serious, had to bite his lip to hold back laughter.
“So, what is it I can do for you?” asked Cohen, assuming correctly that Tom and Rhoda had not stayed late just to ask him about his wardrobe.
“Well,” said Tom, glad for the opportunity to get to the subject he wanted to talk about, “Rhoda and I would like for you to officiate at our wedding.”
Cohen didn’t respond.
“Is something the matter, Rabbi?” Rhoda asked.
Cohen hesitated. “I’m sorry. Rhoda, could I speak with you alone for just a moment?”
Cohen began to move away and Rhoda automatically followed before Tom could even think to object. In a moment so brief he couldn’t speak, they were gone and Tom heard one of the interior doors of the house close behind them.
“Rhoda,” Cohen said, as soon as he was alone with her, “do you remember what I told you when I brought Tom to you?”
“You mean the prophecy?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“How could I forget it? I’ve thought about i
t every day.”
“Then you know that this will not be an easy marriage. You may have several years of peace—I don’t know exactly how many—but then you will lose him. The prophecy is clear: ‘He must bring death and die that the end and the beginning may come.’”
“I know and I understand,” Rhoda answered.
“And you still want to go ahead with the marriage?” Cohen’s voice showed concern but gave no hint of disapproval.
“Yes, Rabbi. More than anything.”
Cohen gave her a look of caution concerning her last statement.
Rhoda saw the look and quickly corrected herself. “I mean, more than anything, as long as it is within God’s will.”
Cohen let it pass. “All right, then. Just as long as you’re going into this with your eyes wide open.”
“I am, Rabbi,” Rhoda assured him.
“There is, of course, the issue of being yoked to an unbeliever, but with Tom, I have always known it was just a matter of time. We shall have to see to that immediately, and by all means before the wedding takes place.”
Rhoda willingly agreed.
“Oh, by the way,” Cohen asked as an afterthought, “have you told Tom about the prophecy?”
“No, Rabbi. I didn’t think I should.”
Cohen nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, it’s probably best that you don’t. Better to let God act in his own time and not put any ideas in Tom’s head.”
Cohen and Rhoda went back to where Tom was waiting for them. “Well, Tom,” Cohen began, by way of explanation, “your Rhoda assures me that she’s going into this with her eyes open.”
Tom knew how much stock Rhoda put in Cohen’s opinions, but he didn’t much care for being talked about when he wasn’t around to defend himself, and he wasn’t at all sure he liked the scrutiny Cohen had apparently placed on their plans. Nonetheless, he decided to hold his tongue. He would soon be glad he did.
“Speaking of going into things with your eyes open,” Cohen said, “Tom, I have a wedding gift for you. Actually, it’s not from me. I was told to give you this when I first found you under the rubble. The exact timing was left up to me, and, I guess this seems like as good a time as any.” Cohen came close to Tom, reached out his hand, and placed it over Tom’s eyes. “Not through any power of my own,” Cohen said, before Tom could even figure out what was going on, “but in the name and through the power of Messiah Yeshua: Open your eyes and see.”
Two weeks later
New York, New York
British Ambassador Jon Hansen was widely applauded as he approached the speaker’s dais at the United Nations General Assembly. His speech would be translated simultaneously into Arabic, Chinese, French, Russian, and Spanish, which together with English are the six official languages of the United Nations. Twice before Hansen had spoken on the subject of reorganizing the UN Security Council, but this time there was no doubt the plea would be made in earnest.
Over the preceding three weeks Decker had spent countless hours working on this speech: writing drafts, condensing, expanding, adding, deleting, polishing, and working with linguists to ensure that the words spoken in English would have the proper impact when translated. What Hansen was about to propose would involve a major restructuring of the United Nations and his words would have to be both clearly understood and thoroughly compelling.
The message of Hansen’s address was not unexpected. The press was out in force to cover the address and the seconding speeches. There was still no guarantee of getting the two-thirds vote necessary to carry the motion; too many nations would not make a commitment before the actual vote.
What made it possible now that Hansen’s motion might actually pass, when before it had not been taken seriously, were the recent events in Russia. The nuclear holocaust had reduced the Russian Federation to a mere specter. Even the name was threatened as survivors in one federated region after another emerged from the rubble and declared themselves independent republics—much as had happened when the Russian Federation’s predecessor, the USSR, fell apart decades before. Those were the lucky ones; in some parts of Russia there were not enough survivors to even worry about things political.
The world had been a much different place on October 24, 1945, when the United Nations officially came into being. The Second World War had just ended, and the victors who had made up the major powers of the world—the United States, Great Britain, France, the Soviet Union, and China—had established themselves as the “Big Five,” giving themselves permanent member status and veto power in the United Nations Security Council. Since that time Britain had divested herself of her colonies and, though influential, remained great only in name. She would trade her power on the Security Council for temporary control of the Secretariat under Hansen and the opportunity to direct the UN’s reorganization. “It is better to trade away now what might well be taken tomorrow,” Hansen had told the British Parliament. Britain knew that the evolution of the UN was unstoppable. Guiding that evolution was a responsibility for which Britain felt itself uniquely qualified.
France, never truly an economic world power after World War II and ever the libertine, had turned to neo-isolationism and so had voluntarily surrendered her position as a world leader. She would not, however, so willingly surrender her power. Even as Hansen spoke, France was lobbying other members to vote against the measure.
China was an anomaly. Despite being one of the poorest countries, it remained a world power, if only because of its military strength and its enormous population. Because of its size, China alone of the five original Security Council members would be guaranteed a seat on the reorganized Council. Nonetheless, China would oppose the measure because its power would be diluted by half in the proposed ten-member council. Her great size would make little difference in the General Assembly. Concessions made two years earlier had removed veto power of the Big Five over amending the UN Charter. China, like the tiniest of countries, would have only one vote.
The Russian Federation, though it would protest loudly, certainly no longer had legitimate claim to permanent status on the Security Council or to veto power over its actions.
Only the United States could truly claim a right to permanent status based on its position as a world power. Yet in a very real sense, this proposal might be seen as a logical next step toward the “New World Order” first proposed by former U.S. president George H. W. Bush, and it appeared to have the support of, if not a majority, then at least a large and vocal minority of American citizens as well as a majority of those in Congress. The U.S. would not stand in the way of reorganization if it was what the members of the United Nations wanted.
Hansen’s proposal would eliminate the permanent positions of the Big Five and instead structure a newly defined Security Council around representatives of each of ten major regions of the world. The details would have to be worked out by all member nations, but it was expected that these regions would include North America; South America; Europe and Iceland; Eastern Africa; Western Africa; the Middle East; the Indian subcontinent; Northern Asia; China; and the nations of Asia’s Pacific basin from Japan and Korea through Southeast Asia, down to Indonesia and New Guinea, along with Australia, and New Zealand. Each region would have one voting member and one alternate member on the Security Council.
As he stood before the great assembly of nations, about to give the most important speech of his life, Hansen was running on adrenaline. He had spent night and day for the past several weeks lobbying for approval. Now was the moment for show business, but immediately afterward the lobbying and arm twisting would continue anew. Hansen stepped up to the speaker’s lectern and began.
“My fellow delegates and citizens of the world: I come to you today as the ambassador of an empire now divested of all her colonies. I say that not with regret, but with pride. Pride that over time we have grown to recognize the rights of sovereign peoples to set their own course in the history of the earth. Pride that my beloved Britain, though she will bear a great cost
at its passage, has placed justice ahead of power and has authorized the introduction and the support of this motion.
“Since the foundation of this august body, five countries, Great Britain among them, have held sway over the other nations of the world. Today the history of nations has come to a new path.
“A new path—not a destination, for there is no stopping.
“A new path—not to a crossroads, for in truth there is no other way that just and reasonable men and women may choose.
“A new path—not a detour, for the path we were on has taken us as far as it will go.
“A new path—not a dead-end, for there can be no going back.
“It is the most tragic of situations that has brought us so abruptly to this point in history. And yet, were it not so we would have reached it still. From the first days of the United Nations, it has always been the visionaries’ dream that one day all nations would stand as equals in this body. We have come too far toward that dream to refuse now to continue the advance toward its fulfillment.
“The time has come for all peoples of the world to put off the shackles of the past. The day of the empire is gone, and just as certainly the day of subservience to those born of power must also come to an end. Justice is not found in the rule of those who consider themselves our betters, but from the common will of peers. The greatness of nations comes not from the superiority of their armaments, but from their willingness to allow and aid the greatness of others.”
Decker listened closely, anticipating the pauses and hoping for the applause he expected each line would draw. Although at the UN the timing of applause can sometimes be embarrassingly delayed by the translation to another language, Decker was not disappointed. Clearly the motion would do well.
In His Image Page 28
