by Ray Bentley
Jack wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and took a step away from the stones. So many scraps of paper there—so many prayers.
The sun was rising. He smiled faintly, and said, “Thank you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Once again in the official black limo, the drive from the King David Hotel to the Prime Minister’s Office at 3 Kaplan street took just eight minutes. Ghassan expertly wheeled his way through light traffic to the parking area for the Israeli government offices. Because of security, Bette, Amir, Lev, and Jack walked the remaining distance.
“Dr. Mawire will be meeting us here,” Lev said as Bette displayed her credentials at a third checkpoint. “This timing is perfect. I wanted you to meet Bibi, of course, and you have to meet Robert Mawire. Catching them both together is phenomenal. Fact is, you have no idea how important today is.”
“You and Amir have both been hinting that this Mawire character is something special,” Jack said, “but you haven’t given me details. So? How about now?”
They were soon seated in a medium-sized conference room around an oval, dark oak table. A map of the eastern hemisphere of the world, centered on Jerusalem, occupied most of one wall. It was flanked by two flags. One was the national banner: blue Star of David on a white field. The other was a blue flag with its upper corner displaying a copy of the Israeli flag, while in the opposite bottom corner was a golden menorah.
“Now, about Mawire,” Jack said impatiently.
Lev and Amir exchanged grins. “Dr. Robert Mawire,” Lev explained, “is pastor of Good News World Outreach church in Texas. He’s an African, born in what was then Rhodesia, but educated in New Zealand and America.”
Jack looked confused. “And his connection to Israel is. . .”
Ignoring the question, Lev continued, “He worked with presidents Reagan and Bush, (senior) on humanitarian aid projects for Africa. He’s also chairman and CEO of WRNO Worldwide Shortwave Radio.”
“And he connects to Israel. . .?”
“Jack,” Amir said, signaling it was his turn to speak. “He’s a prophet.”
“Sorry?” Jack said.
“Robert contacted Prime Minister Netanyahu in ’98. Told him he had a prophecy for him; God had a warning for Robert to deliver.”
Suddenly Jack was eager to hear what followed. Bette was also leaning forward in her chair.
Lev continued the tale. “Robert said God told him there should be no land-for-peace deal. That Netanyahu would lose his place in office if he made such an agreement.”
Racking his brain, Jack tried to recall the history of Israel back twenty years or so. “And?” he asked.
“The deal was made anyway. Netanyahu lost the next election, and, like Winston Churchill, spent some years wandering in the political wilderness before coming back into power.”
“This is real?” Jack inquired.
“As real as what you’ve experienced in Israel,” Amir said, smiling.
“And why is he here today?”
“That’s the best part,” Lev returned. “He contacted Bibi’s office and said he had another word from God for him. The prime minister cleared his schedule for Robert to come—and we get to be here to hear the prophecy delivered.”
A door opened and a slightly built black man with close-cropped silver hair entered the room. He beamed at everyone present, while grasping Lev by both hands. “Lev, my dear, dear friend,” Robert said. “It’s so good to see you. It’s been too long; so very long.”
Robert spoke with precision, but his smile never wavered. He greeted Amir and then he was introduced to Bette and Jack. “Dr. Garrison,” he said warmly. “It is so good to meet you. I know of your work with the Committee, and I have heard from my friend Lon Silver you have seen Ariel. I had some small part to play in its growth. Magnificent achievement, is it not?”
While Jack was still trying to piece the puzzle together, the door opened again and Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu entered.
In an exact duplication of what happened a moment earlier, Netanyahu grasped both of Robert Mawire’s hands and welcomed the black pastor as an old and valued friend.
“Your excellency,” Lev said. “You know Amir, of course. This is Dr. Jack Garrison of the European Committee for Mid-East Policy. And this is your own Officer Bette Deekmann who has been doing such an excellent job accompanying us.”
“Please, sit,” Netanyahu urged.
Everyone did so, except the prime minister and Bette, who stiffened to attention and stood against a wall. “Officer Deekmann,” Netanyahu addressed Bette. “You, also. Thank you for your service and your courage. Please have a seat.”
Netanyahu remained standing. “So, Robert,” he said. “You have another prophetic word for me?”
“I most certainly do,” Robert agreed.
“And do you remember what I said to you when we met the first time?”
“You reminded me that in this country the fate of prophets who prove false is not pleasant. Stoning is the penalty.”
Everyone laughed, including the prime minister, who then said seriously, “But you weren’t wrong, were you? I have not forgotten. What do you have for me—this time?”
“It is just as clear,” Robert said. “It is time—for the Temple to be rebuilt. You are to take the lead in seeing that it happens.”
Jack felt as if he might choke and he reached for one of the bottles of Ein Gedi water standing at each place around the table. What did Mawire say? Just like that? Rebuild the Temple? Cut through Middle Eastern politics and worldwide opinion and rebuild the Jewish Temple? Prime Minister Netanyahu constantly walked a tightrope between negotiations with the Palestinians, the fragile peace with Muslim neighbors, the support of the U.S., and even differing challenges within Israeli politics.
And Robert Mawire just said it straight out? As if to confirm Jack’s unspoken questions, the smiling prophet emphasized to the prime minister: “You are the Father to your people. You are to restore the Tabernacle of David.”
The prime minister rested his chin on his palm for a moment, then went out of the conference room without speaking. What just happened? And what was going to happen now?
Netanyahu was back less than a minute later, carrying a framed print. Holding it so the image could not yet be seen he said, “This is in my office. I look at it and think about it every single day. This is what it’s all about.” The prime minister of Israel revealed the drawing.
It was a detailed artist’s rendition of what the Jewish Temple looked like before its destruction by the Romans. “I look at it every day,” Netanyahu repeated. “You know, it is in partnership with good friends of Israel—Christians and Jews from America, and from around the world—that the reality of the holiness of this place lives and will always live.
“We Jews lost our land and were flung to the far corners of the earth. For thousands of years we have been trying to do just one thing: rebuild our lives as a free, proud, independent people, capable of defending ourselves,” Netanyahu said.
Robert Mawire’s chocolate-brown face glowed.
“Jerusalem,” the prime minister continued, “is where King David walked—where the great prophets walked—where the Maccabbees fought. Mentioned 700 times in the Bible, this is our land, our city; it is ours by rights. This is the site of the holy Temple Mount. . .”
When the gathering with Benjamin Netanyahu concluded, and the prime minister excused himself to attend another meeting, the remaining participants adjourned to Amir’s office at Partners with Zion. Over glasses of iced pomegranate juice they continued their conversation.
“Dr. Mawire,” Jack began. “You obviously really believe what you said to the prime minister about Jerusalem and the Temple. And it seems he agrees with you. What gives you so much confidence? I mean, most of the rest of the world disapproves.”
“Well,” Mawire responded, adjusting his glasses by one earpiece. “The one thing you have to realize is God is still the Holy One of Israel. This is a
n eternal covenant. He still blesses Israel; protects Israel. He neither slumbers nor sleeps. Other nations may prepare for a coming confrontation, but God is going to watch over Israel.”
“You are not very—shy—when it comes to expressing yourself,” Jack observed.
Robert laughed, and so did Lev, who added, “Let me tell you how ‘not shy’ this man is: He told me modern Israel is a fulfilled prophecy, so I and my congregation had to stand with them. Told me to stand with Israel was an honor; to share in that prophetic journey. I said, ‘what’s that mean?’ Robert said we needed to give money to support the development of Ariel; to give to a secular Israeli cause. I said, ‘How much?’ ”
Pausing for dramatic effect, Lev continued, “Fifty thousand. Just like that: $50,000. How do I get my congregation to agree to that? Robert assured me if we wrote the check and set it aside, the following Sunday the church offering would be double the usual; that it would be more than we’d ever received.”
“I get it,” Jack said. “And then shortly after that Sunday, Lon Silver cashed a $50,000 check to buy grapevines.”
“Computers, actually,” Lev said. “Vines are prophecy fulfilled, but here’s what you didn’t see: Ariel is one of the most advanced ‘smart’ cities in the world.”
Amir arrived with lunch for everyone: sabich sandwiches.
“Benjamin Netanyahu is a man of wisdom,” Robert said. “He is humble. He is an anointed man like David; like Solomon.”
“But what about the rights of the Palestinians?” Jack challenged, around a mouthful of pita stuffed with fried eggplant.
“You aren’t the first person to ask that,” Robert pointed out. “Abraham said to God, ‘What about my son, Ishmael?’ And didn’t God say, ‘I’ll give him twelve nations’? All that oil! But the land—this land,” he repeated with emphasis, “belongs to Isaac. So has God cheated the Arab peoples? No, God answered Abraham’s prayer.”
Watching Amir drip Amba sauce onto his sandwich, Jack repeated the action, then savored the sweet mango and tart vinegar seasoning.
Dabbing his face with a paper napkin, Jack asked, “How do you explain that to the Palestinians?”
Spreading his hands wide to embrace all those seated around the room Robert said, “Who were the first Christians? Not Gentiles. No, no—Jews.” He pointed at Lev. “Jesus was a Jew. He lived in a Hebrew family. He’s still coming back as the Son of David. After them, Samaritans and Africans.” Robert patted his chest. “And Arabs,” he noted, waving to Amir, who returned the salute. “This is the pattern of the biblical church. This is the will of God—Jews and Gentiles working together. There is a biblical way of embracing everyone, right, Lev? Right, Amir?” He got vigorous nods of agreement in return.
“So,” Robert concluded. “We have been seeing great miracles as we work with the Palestinian people and with the Jewish people, because God does not discriminate. God has called Jew and Gentile to come together in Him; to become One New Man. The Roadmap to Peace,” Robert said with pointed emphasis, staring at Jack, “is the Bible.”
Jack and Lev walked alone in the Garden of Gethsemane. “Do you remember the Far Side cartoon with the little boy raising his hand in class and saying, ‘May I please be excused? My brain is full?’ Well, that’s how I feel.”
Lev laughed. “Not surprising. I know I’ve said this too many times already, but Israel—Jerusalem especially—has that effect on lots of people. That is, it has that result if they really come seeking God in their lives.”
“Is that what I came for?” Jack asked.
“Yes,” Lev returned. “You just didn’t know it. But God did, and He was here, ready for you to realize it.”
“You and Amir,” Jack recounted. “Bette and Lon Silver. Robert and Bibi Netanyahu. All the pieces were here all along, but I couldn’t see the image ‘til it was assembled.”
“And Eliyahu,” Lev added. “Don’t forget him.”
Jack plucked an olive leaf and stared at it. “How could I? I’ve seen mankind kicked out of the perfect garden. I heard the demons shriek and the angels sing. I saw Abraham ready to slaughter his beloved son. Did I tell you I tried to shout for him to stop? I couldn’t help myself.”
Lev smiled gently and laid his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “That one must have been especially difficult for you to watch.”
Nodding slowly, Jack said, “And I heard the voice of God say He would provide Himself as the Lamb of Sacrifice. I already knew Abraham and Isaac foreshadowed Jesus on the cross, but I never really thought about what it cost the Father to let Jesus go through with that.”
Jack shuddered. “When I heard Peter preach, his words went right into me. I was there, helping crucify Jesus.” Jack shook his head. “Do you know how much pain that realization cost me? I don’t want to be the one to ever put another lash on Jesus’ back. I don’t want to be the one to drive another spike into His hands!”
“I understand, my brother,” Lev agreed.
They walked for a time in silence interrupted by gravel crunching under their feet.
Taking a deep breath, then slowly releasing it as if checking for pain in his chest before speaking again, Jack continued. “I saw a real healing take place—Art, of course. And then Art, living proof miracles still happen, was part of my own healing—part of bringing me back from despair.”
“So—what will you do now?”
“You mean, about my assignment? For the Committee? I’ll go back and tell them Israel and Jerusalem irrevocably belong to the Jews.”
“You know,” Lev said softly. “That’s not what they want to hear.”
“No,” Jack agreed. “And they won’t understand if I say God told me and that settles it, so I have to think of what else to say. Of course, there’s this: Trading land for peace never works. The militant Islamists don’t want land. They don’t even want a state of Palestine. What they really want, at bottom, is for there to be no Israel. That’s the only thing that will satisfy them.”
There was silence. Jack guessed he and Lev were thinking the same thing: maybe many of the ECMP members would actually agree with the radical Islamists about eliminating Israel.
“And the question of rebuilding the Temple?” Lev added.
“And why shouldn’t the Jews have a holy place to worship?” Jack demanded. “Even leaving out ancient promises—leaving out future prophecies—why should the Jews be the only people on earth not allowed to worship in their ancestral homeland in the way they choose?”
“You’re talking like a Zionist,” Lev teased.
“Yes, and a Christian Zionist at that.”
“Shall I tell you what Bibi told Robert the first time they met?”
They found a bench and sat down together.
“He said, ‘You Christians. You love dead Jews. You don’t like us living Jews. You tour the ancient places because you’re in love with dead Jews—how about loving the children’s children of those dead Jews?”
“Ouch!” Jack said.
Lev clasped his hands. “That one got me too. That’s what Amir and Robert and I are all about here: We want to bring people over to see the ancient rocks—but to also meet the living stones. We want them to do both—meet the secular and sacred.”
“That’s powerful.”
Lev laughed. “Thanks, but it’s not original. Robert taught me that.”
Jack said eagerly, “So now I’m a Christian again—or maybe I wasn’t before but now I am. And I have so much to learn and I can’t wait. How is it you call Jesus, you Jewish Christians?”
“Yeshua ha-Mashiach,” Lev answered. “Jesus, the Messiah.”
“He has had a meeting with Netanyahu,” Brahim Rahman said to Lord Halvorsham. His tone dripped disapproval.
The British peer stood in front of Rahman’s desk like an errant school boy in his headmaster’s office. His hands were clasped behind his back and his head was bowed. “Ah—yes?” Halvorsham returned. “A courtesy meeting, no doubt?”
“I think not. The
plan to alarm Garrison, to convince him peace could not be achieved alongside Israeli settlements, has failed. He was in Netanyahu’s office with people known to unconditionally support Israel—even a Jewish temple! He now has a positive view of the Jewish state.”
“Surely he was. . .”
“Be silent!” Rahman commanded.
“. . .just being polite.”
“You assured me,” Rahman continued, “that Garrison was completely supportive of the Palestinian cause. You told me since he was an American he would be a valuable voice in front of world opinion.”
“I—I don’t know what to say.”
“Recall him at once! Tell him we need his report immediately. Tell him in the light of the attack on the vehicle in which he was riding, he must terminate his visit at once. It doesn’t matter what excuse you use. Order him back here!”
“Immediately.”
“I can’t understand it,” Jack complained to Lev and Bette as they sat in the Presidents’ Hall at the King David. “I only just emailed to say I needed more time to continue my research in order to give them a comprehensive report.”
“Do they know about your—change of heart?” Lev inquired.
“Not unless they can read my mind,” Jack retorted. “Or they have been listening to our conversations.”
The humorous remark landed with a thud beside the coffee and croissants as the trio considered the implications.
Bette asked, “When do you have to return to London?”
“That’s just it,” Jack complained. “Immediately. They say. . .” He gave Bette an apologetic, guilty look. “They say since Israel can’t guarantee my safety I have to go back at once. The Committee is lodging a formal complaint with the Israeli government about the—the failure of security. They even mention you by name, Bette.” He added, “I’m sorry. They completely misunderstood.”
