Jerusalem's Hope (24 page)

Lev, sharpening his knife on a whetstone, grumbled, “Where do y' think you're going then?”

“Zadok says lambs need exercise. Need to get acquainted with grass, he says.”

Blue Eye danced along behind, eager to protect this diminutive shepherd and flock of one sheep.

Without looking up, Lev remarked, “Taking it out for a stroll? Sheep's sheep. You've made it into a dog. It won't end well. That's all I've got to say.”

Out of Lev's hearing Emet scrubbed Bear's cheek and leaned close to his ear. “Never mind Lev. He's never much out of the stable.”

Other lambs gamboled in the open at the sides of their mothers, didn't they? Only those who required special care remained cloistered in the cave. Zadok had told Emet boys and lambs needed to walk and run a bit to grow strong.

So? Once in the open Bear tried his legs, scampering sideways and kicking up his heels.

Yes. This was good.

Emet squinted at the brilliant sunlight. Who could imagine that there could be this many shades of green? Clouds sailed across the azure sky, casting shadows on the ground.

A flock of sparrows flew above Emet's head. He watched their course. Was Yediyd among them? Would the little bird recognize Emet and fly onto his hand? The birds circled in one unified movement and settled near the top of a craggy hill.

Emet had a waterskin. A bit of bread to share with the dog.

The boy set his sights on the heights beyond Beth-lehem, where the sparrows had gone. A patch of pasture streaked its slope with green. Farther up was a copse of pine trees along the ridge. There was a path leading to a granite terrace at the top. Zadok had told them that King David had walked that path. He had carried his harp and sat on a flat stone where he composed his music. Perhaps, Emet thought, some of the shepherd king's music lingered there like a bird that had not yet flown away. And surely Emet could see the whole world from there. He imagined the distant Tower of Siloam and beyond, all the way to Jerusalem on a clear day.

Bear was still too small for such an arduous hike. Once out of Lev's domain Emet carefully tied his keffiyeh into a sling around Bear's middle, then carried the lamb over his shoulder to the top of the peak.

On his second visit to Gamaliel, Nakdimon sat silently, unwilling to say more until Gamaliel dismissed Saul. The student left the room reluctantly. Only then in a hushed voice did Nakdimon repeat what Yeshua had said about Moses. “I've been searching my memory for everything. Every detail. There's more.”

“His exact wording, please. If he is the One, then every word from his mouth will have incredible significance, layers of meaning we must seek in the Scriptures.”

Nakdimon nodded. “He said, just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so the Son of man must be lifted up.”

Gamaliel frowned. “You're sure of it? Son of man?”

“Yes. The prophecy in Dani'el.”

“Lifted up?” The sage hurried to a cabinet containing myriad scrolls. He selected the scroll of the prophet Isaiah and carried it to a broad study table. Unrolling the document, he scanned the writing and then exclaimed, “Here it is! In the section we know foretells the coming of Messiah!” He beckoned Nakdimon to his side and moved the lamp so they might read the words.

Nakdimon followed along as Gamaliel read the passage aloud:
“He will be raised and lifted up.”
Gamaliel paused. “It's here in Isaiah 52 that we should begin our study.”

“Will he declare himself king then?”

Gamaliel replied, “You haven't read far enough, nephew. Perhaps lifted up and raised do not mean what we think. Suffering follows. It's also known that this passage is linked to the one in Dani'el that speaks of the Holy One being cut off. Read it to me.”

Nakdimon considered the word choices of the prophet. The verses that followed were a startling picture of suffering, sorrow, and even death.

 

 

Gamaliel put a hand on Nakdimon's arm. “This is, of course, a picture of temple sacrifice. On the Day of Atonement one goat, the scapegoat, is chosen by drawn lots and then set free. The other animal is sacrificed for atonement of the sins of Israel. Its blood is sprinkled on the altar. It has always puzzled me that Isaiah writes as though the atonement will be made by the blood of Messiah himself. See here, at the beginning of this passage . . .
‘so will he sprinkle many nations.'”

Nakdimon considered the passage. “Yeshua said that Moses wrote about him. That if we believe Moses, then we'll believe him. I've been thinking . . . The picture of sacrifice is also seen in Passover. The salvation of those Israelites who obeyed the command God gave to Moses in Egypt. When the blood of the lamb was sprinkled on the doorposts of the house the Angel of Death passed over.”

Gamaliel hummed thoughtfully. “Yes. Passover.” He carefully rolled up the scroll and set it to one side. “What was it Yochanan the Baptizer called Yeshua?”

“He said, ‘Behold the lamb.'” Nakdimon swallowed hard. “‘The lamb of God . . . who takes away the sins of the world.'” Nakdimon's brows knit together as the significance of the messianic prophecies and their possible meanings tumbled through his brain.

Gamaliel closed his eyes in thought for several minutes. When he opened them again he was pale and subdued. He warned Nakdimon, “Say nothing about this to anyone. If Yeshua of Nazareth
is
the Messiah, then the meaning of every prophecy will become clear. There's no changing what is written even though we can't understand it completely before its fulfillment.” The meeting was finished. “Go home. Pray. Study. Write down every word you heard. I think perhaps . . . everything he says means much more than it may suggest at first hearing. Search it out. Question everything. Ask yourself what he might have meant. Check his teaching against the words of Torah and the prophets.”

Almost as an afterthought, Nakdimon mentioned the journey from the Galil. “I met three children on the road south. One boy worked as a link boy. A Sparrow. His name is Avel. He claims he was sent to Beth-lehem to deliver a message from Yeshua to Zadok of Migdal Eder.”

Gamaliel sat forward with interest at this information. “Zadok, you say?”

“He wouldn't tell me what the message was.”

Gamaliel considered the news. “We should have a word with this boy. And with Zadok.” The rabbi called out for Saul to bring quill, ink, papyrus, and sealing wax. “Zadok will bring him if I send for him. Your house? Two days?”

On the crest of the hill Emet put Bear down and let him sniff the grass. Then, in a sudden burst of energy, the baby tore across the green expanse toward the forest.

Blue Eye jogged behind, blocking his escape and herding him back toward Emet.

Emet sank to the cool earth, clasped his knees, and surveyed the Valley of the Flock. Beth-lehem, City of David, looked much as it must have in David's day. White brick houses clung to the hillside like sheep.

Emet shuddered at the sight of women tending gardens on the terraced slopes. He was glad to have escaped women's work. Now and then the shrill voices of young children rose on the wind.

In the distance was Migdal Eder and beyond was the hated Roman aqueduct. Farther south, the menacing parapets of Herodium loomed over all.

As Emet watched, the gate on the lowest level yawned open. A new shift of stonecutters marched from the gloomy palace of the dead butcher king.

Emet ate his lunch and strained to hear the music of David. Instead he heard the rush of wind through the dark green branches of the trees.

And then . . . there was something more. A murmur, barely audible beneath the sighing breeze. A voice? Voices? Emet recognized the urgent whisper of men's voices from the thick copse of trees.

How many? Emet counted three distinctly different tenors.

At this Emet turned his head to search the woods for some sign of who was within. Tree trunks provided a united front, shielding the watchers from view.

A sudden hissing called for silence as Emet scanned the trees.

Had he imagined it? Or had he overheard a fragment of ancient conversation that had snagged on a branch to echo old words when the wind was up?

More.

Emet's head snapped forward. A chill coursed through him. This was no antique scrap of syllables but a present-day exchange.

Someone was up to no good.

Emet's voice shook as he called to the dog. “Blue Eye! Home!”

The tricolored dog nosed Bear toward Emet at the head of the path. Resisting the urge to peer over his shoulder at the menace, Emet slipped the noose around the black lamb's throat and headed down to the stable.

Lev was not pleased to see Emet return to the stable so soon. Nor was he impressed with Emet's report.

“There's a jackal living in those woods!” Lev scolded. “You're lucky it didn't sneak out and eat that little black creature you're so fond of!”

“It was men I heard.”

“One jackal's the same as another.”

“But there's someone up there!” Emet pleaded.

“It's near Passover week. What do y' think? They camp up there every year. Nuisance! Two years ago some dolt set fire to the woods. If it hadn't rained a torrent . . .”