by Chana Keefer
“How did it happen?” The girl’s voice was no more than a whisper.
How did one answer a question like that? How could young, simple minds understand emotions that took eons to evolve? Rapha took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “Lucifer could not conceive of a love that is truly endless. He resented anyone and anything that gained Adonai’s favor—as if that regard stole from him.”
“But how could he dwell with Adonai and yet not understand Him?”
“It is never that simple,” Rapha answered, surprised by a rush of defensiveness on Lucifer’s behalf. “Undisciplined passion turns to contempt. Lucifer demanded what Adonai could not give. He demanded what he was not ready to handle. It began as an offense that Lucifer regarded as betrayal. Over time he became a slave to his lust, rage, and revenge.”
“That’s horrible,” the girl’s eyes were moist with tears.
“Do not pity him,” Rapha said. “Lucifer is powerful. His hatred for Adonai overshadows all. He would feel no pity for you. He would fill you with poison and revel in your pain. He would rejoice in the agony this would bring to Adonai.”
“But why is he allowed here?” Adam asked.
The angel swept a hand toward the view of their home as he tried to make them understand what still baffled him. “Adonai keeps no prisoner. He holds all He loves with an open hand—even those who hate Him.”
Anger flooded Adam’s face. Even without his gift of reading thoughts, Rapha could have read the boy’s emotions loud and clear as Adam digested those words, his eyes gazing ‘round at the beauty of the garden until they came to rest on the young woman beside him. The thought of Lucifer dwelling so close did not concern the boy… until he considered her.
“What good are walls if evil is shut in with us?” Adam asked.
Rapha gazed across the outlands, mulling distant memories. “Even in paradise, evil can thrive.” He sighed and faced them, “I, too, struggle with these questions. Adonai’s ways are mysterious but what seems foolish to me has always proved to be His deepest wisdom. Nevertheless, you are free to ask Him. He has often told me, ‘Deep faith is evidenced more in honest questions than in blind acceptance.’ Even if you are not ready for the answer, He will not forget. He always honors a request for wisdom.”
Adam grabbed a piece of golden fruit but rather than eat it, he gave vent to his frustration and flung it far and high, over the garden wall. They did not see where it landed but its passing roused a vibrant flock of birds that squawked their protest and flapped away over the wall only to wheel about in the sky and return to the garden’s peaceful shade. Rapha watched his young charges, hoping the birds’ wisdom was not lost on them.
But the girl had had enough seriousness for one day. Suddenly she clambered down, goading Adam, “You’re so good at diving. If I get too far ahead you can just fall to beat me!”
“Perhaps I should name you ‘Vexing’ since you’re so good at it,” Adam retorted as he dodged the branch she released with precision toward his head.
As their laughing voices retreated Rapha shut his eyes and shuddered at the icy wind that pierced his soul. “Yes, Adonai,” Rapha whispered, “he comes.”
But late that night as the girl slumbered, Adam stared at the stars, pondering their patterns. Rapha sensed an unfamiliar emotion in the boy: fear. He was moved by pity to go to Adam but Adonai’s silent direction forbade it, “Let it drive him to Me.”
So in the deepest watch of the night, Adam leapt from his bed and made his way to the river. With the swift-moving water bubbling over stones that echoed back the sparkle of myriad points of starlight, Adam paced on the bank muttering, grabbing stones, and flinging them into the dark waters.
“Show yourself!” the boy finally shouted to the night. “I know you’re here, watching and waiting. I can feel your hatred. I know you want to hurt us, to hurt her. I am not afraid of you!” Adam spun as if expecting an attack but no one was there.
As Adam continued his rant, calling to Lucifer, even taunting him, a shadowy figure appeared in the half-light.
After a few moments, a quiet voice came from the cloaked form. “What do you seek?”
Adam gasped and spun to face the man, his body coiled and ready to fight. “Are you my enemy?”
“No,” the quiet voice replied.
Adam studied the speaker who was bathed in the radiance reflected from Adam’s body but the man’s face remained in shadow due to the long piece of cloth that draped over his head.
“Lucifer would lie. How can I believe you?”
“You must discern,” the man said. “Your eyes and ears can be deceived but your heart sees truth.”
“My heart does not have eyes. How can it see?”
“Seek the memory of communion with Adonai. That is your foundation and your confidence. That is where your vision is clear.”
Adam was quiet a moment. “But I’ve been told Lucifer would say anything to make me believe him.”
The man did not answer.
Adam’s brow furrowed with concentration even as he kept a wary eye on the visitor. “Why do you hide your face?”
“I am hidden from eyes that do not see.”
“Uncover your face and I will see just fine,” Adam leapt toward the man and grabbed for the concealing length of cloth—but a fire flashed, and for a split second the night was brighter than day. When all was dark and silent again, Adam was dumb, blind, and trembling at the man’s feet.
Adam’s shoulders began to shake and a sob broke from his mouth.
“My child, why do you fear?” The man’s voice was gentle and when he touched Adam, the boy’s tongue was loosed.
“I do not have the power to fight you. I do not have the power to, to protect her.”
“You do not lack power. What you lack is humility. A humble man would ask the Father for whatever he needs, and receive it.”
Adam’s head shot up. “Then I will ask the Father for power.”
“And you would still be defeated,” the man’s quiet voice stated.
“You lie! Adonai has power over everything.”
“And Adonai obeys His own law. Authority is given according to law.”
“Authority? Does this authority give power?”
“Yes. It is the right to rule.”
“Then that is what I need. I will humbly ask the Father for authority.”
“It is already yours.”
“But, I am helpless before you.”
“Your authority is of this Earth. It does not extend to Me.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me who you are.”
“As you have said, words could deceive. Come closer, child.”
But Adam remained unmoving.
“Tell me, how can you decide which trees in the garden provide what is good to eat?”
“Easy,” Adam said, “I see the fruit.”
“And that is how you should decide if you can trust me.”
“I do not see any branches or leaves on you.”
“My words and actions are my fruit. If I draw you closer to the Father, I am a good tree.”
Adam squatted down, still wary, and watched as the man gathered kindling to add to a small mound of wood. In a few moments a cheerful blaze crackled and the man brought forth a simple meal of fruit and nuts wrapped in savory leaves along with small cakes of what appeared to be several types of grain pressed together. He laid the cakes on a flat rock among the glowing embers.
When the man took a seat on a log and reached to stir the fire with a stick, for just a moment it flared and chased every shadow from his features. Adam’s jaw dropped and he stared. Rapha felt the boy’s surge of excitement.
“I know your eyes,” Adam whispered.
The man met Adam’s gaze and smiled. “Will you come and eat?”
In answer, Adam inched closer and eased onto a rock within the circle of warm light.
The man poured water into a shallow bowl, “To wash away the dust,” he said, then returned to his sea
t to tend the cakes.
But Adam continued to stare, “I see Adonai in you.”
“Come, there is much to discuss.”
Adam moved as if in a dream to dip his hands into the water. “Please, tell me who you are.”
“I AM the Word of Adonai made flesh.”
The blank look on Adam’s face plainly showed he did not comprehend.
“I AM truth. I AM life. To know Me is to know Adonai.”
“But I know Adonai. Why did I not recognize you?”
“Because eyes are blind when clouded by fear,” the man said, then poured more water, this time into a small wooden vessel. He handed it to Adam who, without hesitation, put it to his lips.
Immediately he gave an exclamation of surprise, “This is not water!”
“No. This is the fruit of My vine. Drink it and you will never thirst.”
Adam took a small sip. “It is wonderful,” he said, and then tilted his head to one side and peered once again at the man. “But Adonai is complete; He has no need of a body.” His eyes lit with suspicion once again, “He is the one true God. How can He be split in two?”
The man reached above him for a piece of fruit. “You see this fruit. It is whole and yet it has three parts.”
Adam nodded but his eyes were still narrowed.
The man broke open the fruit and its aroma filled the air. “Three separate and distinct parts—skin, flesh and seed—but all part of the whole. You also, like Adonai, are a union of three—spirit, soul, and body.”
“Yes, but why would Adonai separate the three?”
“The Father and I are One. Even in this humble form I AM complete. However, from me you will learn how to lead what is broken back to holiness.”
To Rapha, it seemed Adam absorbed the man’s words and melted in response. His shoulders sagged and his radiant face was bowed. “You remind me of my true purpose. Adonai has told me that through me the whole Earth will be blessed. Forgive me. I have been thinking only of her,” Adam’s shoulders slumped and a sigh escaped his lips, “of myself.”
“Well said.” The man reached up to lay the hood of his cloak around his shoulders. “Come here, my child.” He extended a hand toward Adam who crept nearer to sit at the man’s feet. “Rapha,” his smile was wide as he addressed the angel, “now that he believes I am not Lucifer, there are things to discuss.”
Rapha stepped out of the shadows as Adam and the man shared their meal. Mostly the conversation dealt with Adam’s role in the earth and how his authority, awarded by Adonai, was what Lucifer truly desired.
“He would corrupt everything again if given the chance. He desires to bring pain to Adonai by bringing pain to His creation. Yes, Lucifer is here and he is seeking a weakness. You must not listen to him. He is beautiful and he knows how to twist truth to his purposes. Do not listen to his words. Do not desire his fruit. It is poison. To be like him will seem irresistible; so do not even look upon him. And do not think a sample of what he offers will be safe. With just a taste of his corruption your body will know death, and then all creation will fall under his authority.
“Look around you, Adam. All is laid at your feet. This one thing only, Lucifer’s corruption, the fruit of his tree, is forbidden.”
The man spoke with Adam until a brilliant strip of sunlight peeked over the horizon. Then he leaned toward the boy and kissed him on the forehead. Rapha smiled, his own heart overflowing with the look of bliss on Adam’s face.
Immediately, the man was gone.
The next day, while Adam slept, the girl decided to do some exploring on her own. She dug with fervor, exposing a fascinating, hidden world just beneath the grass and moss. Rapha lounged, unseen, high in a neighboring tree. Of late his anxiety had grown so he tried to keep an eye on the young people even when they desired privacy. When they bathed or took care of other private matters he retreated, but at all times he stayed attuned to their emotions. Even during their slumber he remained alert, knowing the enemy’s preference for vulnerability. Unbeknownst to his charges, other angels also formed a protective circle during those hours.
One other factor had heightened Rapha’s watchfulness. Adam and his betrothed were coming of age. Adams body was thickening, his voice changing and the peach fuzz on his cheeks darkening. The girl also had come to maturity. The scent of her blood on the wind was unmistakable. This development, other than sending her to bathe more often, had caused little disturbance to her daily routine, but to Rapha, so well acquainted with Lucifer’s ways, it felt like a red flag waved above the trees, marking her location.
Later, when Adam came through the bushes, his eyes still puffy from sleep, the young woman smiled a greeting from the pit she had dug and brushed the hair from her face, leaving a dark smudge on her forehead.
“I need to talk to you,” Adam announced in a serious tone.
“Look at this! I can’t even get to the bottom of these roots! They go down so much deeper than the ones by the river. It’s just like Rapha said. The water is harder to reach so their roots are longer.”
Adam’s face lost a bit of concern for heavier matters as he watched her back where her dazzling garment dipped below her shoulders that strained at the earth, but he shook his head to clear it and addressed her again, “Please, this is important.”
“I’m listening,” she replied, then grabbed at something and proudly extracted a tiny green lizard.
“Listen!” Adam commanded and reached for her hands. She watched with a pout as the startled lizard ran away, but she soon realized that Adam still held her hands. For a moment they both stared at the joining until Adam grinned and opened her soil-encrusted palms. “They’re very… um… dirty,” he murmured as he brought her hands to his lips.
Rapha watched from his high perch, observing what human eyes could not see, a magnetic intertwining of their souls. But the expressions of alert, breathless fascination said it all. Their bodies longed to follow suit. Rapha hoped he would not have to intervene should their attraction prove overwhelming.
Eyes wide, the girl pulled her hands away and slapped them together a few times. “So what’s so important?”
Adam looked away from her body, from the compelling garment of light that followed her gentle curves. He clenched his eyes shut and took a deep breath as if to shake away the cloud from his mind caused by gazing at her. When he spoke again, his voice was stern. “I have spoken to Adonai about Lucifer. He said to stay away from him. We… cannot have anything to do with him, especially we cannot touch him, or we’ll die.” So the message was a bit befuddled. At the moment, Adam was feeling proprietary; he didn’t want her touching anyone but himself.
She returned to her digging, a bit perplexed. “It feels strange.” She slapped at the soil. “I don’t see what’s so scary about one banished angel. Doesn’t Adonai trust our judgment at all?”
Adam watched her back as she dug. Finally, he wiped a hand across his forehead, leaving a brown streak to match hers, and turned to move away through the trees.
She prattled on. “After all, he lost, right? And what does ‘we will die’ even mean?” She looked over her shoulder to discover she was alone. “Adam? Where are you?”
Chapter Nine
Sabotage
It was several hours later when Rapha sought Adam. The young man, like the young woman in her moment of crisis, had taken his frustration to Adonai and, once again, the Maker’s words had brought order from confusion. With the sun at its highest point in the sky, Adam perched in the trees, a bemused expression on his face. For a few moments after Rapha joined him, the boy was silent.
Rapha could not recall the last time he had been first to speak. Sensing the boy’s emotions, he broke the silence with the rhetorical question, “You are pleased with Adonai’s gift?”
Adam sputtered a moment as if he had lost the gift of speech. “All I could say was, ‘Thank you.’ I am so amazed by what Adonai has created, the joy that will be ours when she and I… when we are joined.” Adam pause
d. “I believe her rightful name is ‘Glory’ since that is what Adonai says she is. He said her well-being and joy are my glory. As I care for her in the same way Adonai cares for me, she will be like this well-tended garden, rewarding my life and offspring with sustenance, protection, and joy.”
Then Adam spread his arms wide as if to embrace all of creation. “She is my ‘Glory’!” he shouted to the heavens. “She is Adonai’s precious gift. As I honor her above all creation our joy shall be like the sun, rising in the sky until all are blessed by its light!”
Adam was so giddy he almost fell from his perch. He flailed and grabbed at the branch on which he sat to regain his balance and began to laugh. The young man’s joy was infectious. Soon Rapha too was laughing as Adam shook the entire tree with his mirth… nearly losing his balance once more.
“Perhaps her name should be ‘Wine’ since even the thought of her has intoxicated you,” Rapha teased, causing Adam’s laughter to explode once again. “Or ‘Hyena’ because she makes you sound like one of them.”
As they continued the mindless jests, tears streamed from Adam’s eyes and Rapha was swept with a hilarious drunkenness, the likes of which he had never experienced in his eons of existence. A glimpse of the power of mankind’s melding with Adonai pierced his consciousness. By discovering the Maker’s goodness like the petals of an unfolding flower, humans drank richly of each revealed aspect of His fathomless personality. In this way, ignorance was a blessing, like discovering treasures around every corner. Rapha understood Adonai’s immense power, love and holiness—had understood for time immemorial—but when was the last time he had been drunk with joy about it?
But even in this moment, Rapha felt Lucifer’s piercing gaze upon him. Lucifer’s jealousy was a choking vapor paralyzing his mind even as Adam’s joy made his soul take flight. Rapha felt his being would be ripped in two by the warring emotions.
A malicious chuckle filled his heart and Lucifer’s unbidden message accosted his mind. “Timing, old friend. That’s all. Simple timing.”
The young woman moved with swift strokes through clear turquoise depths. How she treasured the quiet, pre-dawn moments when she could melt into the water and flow with the swishings, flutterings and murmurings of a gently waking world. Adam still slept. Again he had conversed with Adonai late into the evening, long after she had succumbed to slumber.
