Nidal continued to question. “One of the things that attracted me to Allah is that he’s one God. I wanted to worship one God, not many gods as I did as a Hindu.”
Daniel answered Nidal’s indirect question. “Christians and Jews worship only one God.”
“Christians don’t worship three different Gods?”
Daniel shook his head. “There is a story in the New Testament where Jesus was approached by one of the scribes. He asked Jesus, ‘Which commandment is the most important of all?’ Jesus replied, ‘This is the most important. Hear O Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord.’ Jesus also said, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind.’”
“No wonder Peter spoke so powerfully about Jesus,” Nidal observed.
Silence filled the distance between us as Nidal reflected on what he had seen. I prayed that God could close what seemed like an impenetrable chasm. I sensed Nidal wanted more in his faith—an intimate relationship with God, God’s unconditional acceptance, and his sacrificial love. Wasn’t that a need of everyone, woven into the fabric of our DNA?
Nidal broke the silence. “When the tongues of fire descended upon first the disciples and then on many of the others, their faces shone with joy. I want that joy, too.”
“You can have that joy, Nidal. It’s free to anyone who believes in Jesus.”
Nidal’s eyes turned to Peter. Many were still gathered around him and the disciples. “How can I receive the spirit of God that the others have received? Is it too late?”
Daniel replied, “All you have to do is believe that Jesus died for your sins.”
Nidal shook his head. “I can’t. I still can’t accept that God would allow his son to die like that.”
I whispered to Daniel, “Focus on the works of Jesus. Remember, he said, ‘If you don’t believe in me, believe in the works I do.’”
Daniel tensed his shoulders. “That might be helpful.”
He turned back to Nidal. “One time Jesus said, ‘If you don’t believe in me, believe in the works I do, as the Father is in me and I’m in the Father.’ Do you know what kind of works Jesus did?”
Nidal nodded. “The Quran says Jesus was a great prophet, that he performed miracles, healed the sick, and was a man of peace.”
Daniel replied, “That’s good. There is also one other thing Jesus did that you may not know. Does the Quran mention anything about Allah forgiving you so you can go to heaven?”
Nidal appeared crestfallen as his face turned pale. “The Quran doesn’t talk about forgiveness. You have no assurance about making it to heaven. You try to live a good life that will please Allah. Sadly, I think I’ve failed, and there is nothing I can do about it.”
“Do you know what Jesus preached?” Daniel asked.
“No, the Quran just says he was a prophet.”
“Jesus said, ‘For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’”
“Christians can be sure they will go to heaven?” Nidal asked.
“Yes, one hundred percent sure.”
“It’s hard for me to imagine anyone could be a hundred percent certain.”
“If you’re a Christian, it isn’t,” Daniel assured him. “God loves you unconditionally.”
“If only I could believe,” Nidal said, “and understand forgiveness. If only…”
Daniel and I gave Nidal a moment to process this new revelation.
But he shook his head, mumbling to himself. Then he stood and edged away from us. He raised his hands in the air, still mumbling stuff I couldn’t hear. I sensed he was having an emotional crisis, as if his world was falling apart.
I reached for Daniel’s hand. As Daniel’s eyes met mine, a faint smile crossed his lips. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Nidal turned back to us, appearing more agitated than before. Deep lines dug into his forehead and he rubbed his upper arms nervously.
“What was Jesus’ message again?” he asked.
“For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
Nidal dropped his eyes. Compassion for the poor man grew in my heart. I had been angry with him, but God showed me something I didn’t expect. I had never recognized my own prejudice towards Muslims.
In smugness, I had considered myself better than them because of Jesus. How wicked my thoughts. Witnessing Nidal’s struggle to understand love and forgiveness, something he had never experienced, was heart-wrenching.
Nidal took a deep breath. “I almost hate to ask you this question because—well, you’ve been so honorable, and I don’t want to disrespect you.”
Daniel leaned in closer. “Nidal, you’ve been given a gift. We’ve both been given a gift.”
“What’s that?” Nidal asked.
“We’ve witnessed the giving of the Comforter, as recorded in the New Testament. I don’t think you could say anything that could take away from that.”
“This question is important, if I may be so bold to ask it.”
Daniel waved his hand. “Ask.”
“I’ve heard many Imams say the Bible has been corrupted because there are so many translations, but you can believe the Quran because it’s written only in the original Arabic.”
“The Bible is made up of many books,” Daniel said. “The translation of the Torah, Prophets, Psalms, and Gospels into different languages allows people to read God’s Word in their own language. The Bible also gives many warnings about not changing anything in the scriptures.
“In the Book of Revelation, the disciple John wrote, ‘If anyone adds to these things, God will add to him the plagues that are written in this book.’ Moses wrote the same thing in Torah. ‘You shall not add to the word which I command you, nor take from it, that you may keep the commandments of the Lord.’ Two centuries later, Solomon wrote in the Psalms, ‘Every word of God is pure. Do not add to his words, lest he rebuke you, and you be found a liar.’
“The books of the Bible were written by many people with great care. Doesn’t the Quran attest to the authenticity of the scriptures that existed even before Muhammad wrote the Quran?”
“Yes,” Nidal said, “in Quran 5:43.”
“I can give you the Bible in your own language and you can read it for yourself and understand. There are no contradictions. The greatest story ever told covers the pages of the Old Testament and New Testament—God’s plan of salvation found in Jesus Christ. In the Old Testament, it is revealed through hundreds of prophecies. Many were fulfilled at the first coming of Jesus.”
Nidal leaned towards Daniel. “That seems fair enough. May I ask one last question? How do you know Jesus rose from the dead? I mean, if he didn’t rise from the dead, then there is no Christianity.”
“That’s true,” Daniel said. “But there is plenty of evidence that he did. First, Jesus appeared to Peter and the women. Then he appeared to his disciples. Then he appeared to five hundred people in Galilee. Then he appeared to Thomas and his disciples again. That’s many eyewitnesses—hundreds. It’s not like only one person saw him after his death on the cross.
“All the Gospels were written within the first seventy-five years of the life of Jesus. What was written could be verified by those who heard him preach.”
Daniel waved his hand at the multitude. “You witnessed God’s spirit come upon the disciples. Jesus longs to know you, Nidal. He wants to have a relationship with you.”
Nidal was quiet, taking in Daniel’s words.
“You know, Nidal, if you follow the Islamic tradition, since I’ve shared Jesus with you, as a Muslim, you should kill me, even though I saved your life. Do you want to kill me?”
“Of course not. That would be wrong.”
Daniel edged closer. “That tells me Jesus has already touched your heart. He is speaking to you even now. He is showing you hop
e, forgiveness, and love. He is putting that longing in your heart.”
“You knew who I was when you rescued me, didn’t you?”
Daniel nodded.
“You must have known at some point I was involved in your father’s kidnapping, and still, you saved my life.”
“I forgave you because God forgave me.”
Nidal stood and offered his hand. “I need time to think. I must go.”
Daniel clasped Nidal’s hand. “If you don’t remember anything else, remember Jesus loves you.”
Nidal bowed slightly. “And you, ma’am, peace on you.” His voice cracked and he brushed his eyes. Then he took off, hurrying through the crowd, and we lost sight of him.
“Are you just going to let him go?” I asked.
Daniel placed his hand on mine. “He has a lot to think about.”
We sat for a while in silence.
At last Daniel stood. “We need to go back and check on my mother.”
I wrapped by arm around him. “Remember what Jesus said about your father. You need to trust him. Our hope in Jesus never disappoints.”
“Yes,” Daniel said. “I must wait on God and not force his hand. I keep insisting on things happening the way I want them to.”
I laid my head on his shoulder. As we walked, Daniel pulled out the necklace his mother had given him. “I need to return this to the owner.”
“Who is that?”
“My great-grandmother.”
“Where is she?”
A faraway look entered Daniel’s eyes. “On a train to Auschwitz.”
CHAPTER 30
AS QUICKLY AS Daniel said “train,” I heard chugging and a whistle blow. The power of suggestion was so strong, goosebumps covered my arms. “What did you say?”
Daniel’s eyes glistened. “She’s on a train to Auschwitz.”
The haunting sound of the temple shofar couldn’t eclipse the train’s arrival as it blew across space and time. But I didn’t see a train. All I saw was the afternoon sun bearing down on weary people. Many stood in line to be baptized as musty donkeys pressed in around us.
Daniel took me by the arm and led me away from the temple mount. I followed him through the city gates, past the cemetery, and along a dusty trail that led to the Mount of Olives. The road split and we took the one to the garden. The ascent wasn’t steep, but it was enough to make me winded. Within a short time, we reached a secluded area in the garden.
Daniel stopped to rest on a large boulder. I sat beside him as he held up the necklace. “This belonged to my great-grandmother.”
“She was wearing it in that photograph beside your mother’s bed.”
“You saw it?” Daniel asked.
“You picked up the picture frame and examined it. I couldn’t imagine its significance.”
Daniel ran his finger along the edges of the Star of David.
I scrutinized the necklace over Daniel’s shoulder. “How did your mother get it in the first century?”
Daniel stood, reaching for my hand. “Follow me.”
“Where are you taking me now?”
“Where the soldiers bound Jesus and took him away.”
“Why?”
“I want to tell you a few things before we go back to the house.”
We continued along the edge of the Garden of Gethsemane overlooking Jerusalem. Beyond the city walls, the desolate Judean wilderness revealed waves of mountains in an ocean desert.
After a few minutes, Daniel pointed. “There the angel ministered to Jesus and strengthened him before the temple soldiers arrived and carted him off to Caiaphas.”
I imagined what that night must have been like. “You saw it happen, didn’t you?”
Daniel nodded. “Mark was with me. Then some guards discovered us. Mark escaped, although he left behind his clothes.”
“I remember that story.”
Reminiscing, Daniel swiped his hair from his forehead. “I thought we would suffer the same fate as Jesus.”
“How did you escape?”
“It wasn’t my time.”
Neither of us said anything for a while, and then I broke the silence. “You don’t want to go to Auschwitz, do you?”
Daniel didn’t hear my question. “I think we’re being watched.”
Panic welled up within me, and I froze. My heart beat wildly. I wanted to run away, but I couldn’t move. “Who is watching us?”
“Whoever it is, he’s behind that clump of olive trees.”
I didn’t see anybody.
“See the movement in the branches?” Daniel whispered. “It’s as if whoever or whatever it is has invisible legs.”
I searched hard as fear gripped my heart. There was no wind, nothing to make the trees sway so violently. “I don’t see anything.”
“Whoever it is, I can’t read his mind, and I can read the mind of any human.”
My eyes dropped to the ground and I saw a snake wrapping its body around Daniel’s ankle. I screamed.
Daniel grabbed the reptile and flung it towards the trees. The snake slammed into one of the trunks and then disappeared inside the bole. I blinked. Did I really see what I thought I saw?
Seconds later, the tree turned into a reptilian creature. It had a humanoid body, but its freakish appearance reminded me of the Shambhala demons. As it emerged from its shadowy cover, I trembled. I had never seen a reptilian human. The evil eye on its forehead stared at me as it started to approach.
“Fallen angel,” Daniel whispered.
Suddenly, a white dove swooped down and flew towards the demon. Immediately, the fallen angel disappeared, as if it were swallowed up in another dimension.
I gasped. I recognized the bird.
The magnificent winged creature grew in size as it flapped its wings and circled the area. The dove transformed into an eagle as it took off into the heavens. I had hoped it would speak, but it didn’t. Within seconds, it was out of sight. Neither of us moved. Several seconds passed as we stood and waited for something to happen—for the bird to return or to see if the underling reappeared, but all we heard were a few songbirds chirping.
Daniel drew in a long breath, and I realized I hadn’t breathed either. His eyes met mine. “Did you ask me something?”
I shook my head. “I don’t remember asking you anything.”
“I could have sworn you asked me something.”
I followed his gaze and noticed the branches had stopped swaying. Everything looked ordinary, but I knew we had witnessed a fallen angel.
“This must be the most evil place on the planet, where Judas betrayed Yeshua!” Daniel exclaimed.
I wrapped my arms around myself, still feeling fearful. “If we could see the whole spiritual world and not just an opening, I bet the devil’s minions are everywhere.”
Daniel rubbed his forehead. “I’m glad we can’t see more. That was enough.”
I touched his arm. “Doctor Luke gave Shira a wooden dove as a gift. The doctor said Jesus made it when he was a carpenter. The bird came to life and brought us here from Dothan. Along the way, the dove fed the lepers and kept away the vultures. Once we arrived at your mother’s house, he flew away. That’s the same bird.”
“That’s amazing.” Daniel tugged at his toga as his eyes scanned the horizon. “God must be looking out for us. Even here.” He took me by the hand, leading me back to the garden entrance. “By the way, I remember your question.”
“What was it?”
“You asked me if I wanted to go to Auschwitz.”
“Oh, yeah.” I inched forward. “It’s strange that we both forgot—as if the fallen angel had the ability to steal our thoughts.”
“I know,” Daniel replied. “But to answer your question, no, I don’t want to go to Auschwitz, but I need to tell you what happened.”
“I’m listening.”
Daniel helped me down a more difficult incline. “When I left Caesarea for Passover, I didn’t have enough time to make it to Jerusalem before Shabbat. G
od sent a train to take me to Jerusalem, but it wasn’t an ordinary train. Jewish families were crammed in like sardines. I couldn’t move, and the odor was nauseating. When I couldn’t take it anymore, a woman cried, ‘Fire.’ I think she saw the flames of Auschwitz, even though there were no flames visible from the train.”
“She saw the future,” I suggested.
Daniel wiped his nose with the back of his hand as if he could smell burning flesh. “But it was the children on the train that bothered me. Most of them had kittens in their laps. Later, I saw the same children in the garden holding the kittens.”
“Did you ever find out their meaning?”
Daniel placed his hand on his chin. “Animals bring comfort to young children. Perhaps the kittens symbolized the Holy Spirit, but I don’t know for sure. There was an older girl on the train sitting near me, perhaps twelve or thirteen. She didn’t have a kitten.” Daniel held up the necklace. “She was holding this in her hand.”
“Did she give it to you?”
Daniel shook his head. “At that moment, a large man with a menacing dog opened the boxcar. As he was about to enter our cabin, the train disappeared, and I was on a hill overlooking the temple. When I looked down, I saw the necklace in the road. The Star of David glistened in the sun. The young girl must have dropped it when she got off the train.”
I stopped Daniel. “You want to return the necklace to the girl who you think is your great-grandmother?”
“Yes,” Daniel replied.
“What difference does it make now? That happened almost eighty years ago. God must have allowed it to fall out of the train.”
Daniel’s pain became evident through the deep emotional lines crossing his forehead. “Her parents died in the gas chamber. Perhaps she didn’t leave the train. How else did she live through the holocaust?”
“You mean the Nazis didn’t see her on the train?”
Daniel crossed his arms. “The photo was taken after World War II, and she was wearing the necklace. If she lost it getting off the train, then how could she have worn it when the picture was taken?”
The Prescience Page 12
