Final Confrontation (16 page)

“Men and their religion,” said Millas, a wisdom angel accompanying Crispin to the synagogue. “They do love it so.”

“Little good it does them, I’m afraid,” said Crispin, observing the pious men entering the building. “To be sure these men of Nazareth are simple and passionate. Good men for the most part. But we have seen that religion in and of itself leads nowhere. Perhaps this day our Lord will bring more light into their darkened hearts.”

“Darkened hearts?” came a voice.

Crispin turned to see Pellecus standing with a group of his own students. He looked over the angels with him.

“I see you are still accumulating students,” said Crispin.

“A good teacher never stops teaching, nor accumulating students,” said Pellecus. “Had the Academy of the Host realized that I would still be there.”

Crispin’s angels looked around at one another. A group of warrior angels moved in around the synagogue as if to protect it. Pellecus laughed at their arrival.

“I forget how dangerous I am,” he said. “I can assure you I have come only to witness the unveiling of Jesus of Nazareth. It should be interesting.”

Crispin smirked.

“I’m sure Jesus will be interesting to you and your charges,” he said. “Not to mention refreshing. The truth does that, you know.”

“These are the core of my own Academy,” said Pellecus, pointing out the angels who stood with him. Most of them were former angels of wisdom who had subsequently thrown in with Lucifer. “It shall rival the Academy of the Host, I assure you. And its doctrines will be forever remembered as great doctrines of truth.”

“Doctrines of demons you mean,” said Crispin. He shook his head. “I’m afraid, Pellecus, that for all of your philosophical juggling of Lucifer’s attitude, in the end it is nothing but shameful pride. And pride is the well-spring of every doctrine originating apart from the Most High.”

All eyes in the synagogue turned toward Jesus as He made His way to the front of the room. He picked up the prescribed book for the day. He took a moment and found the place in Isaiah from which He would read. The rabbis in the room closed their eyes to drink in the holy text as He began:

Jesus set the scroll down and took His seat. The rabbis awaited the customary commentary from their former pupil. Jesus looked at them earnestly, then announced, “Today, this scripture of the prophet is fulfilled in your hearing.”

The men looked about astonished. Some smiled at Jesus. Surely they had misheard…or perhaps he had misspoke. Others began to mutter among themselves that this was the son of Joseph the carpenter. Still others scowled at such insolence.

Outside among the angels, the declaration was just as dramatic as it was inside the synagogue. Pellecus smiled at the reaction of the humans. He looked back at his angels as if continuing one of his lectures.

“Once again the Lord is creating more problems than He is solving,” he began. “Notice that here is the Son of God—the very One they seek—declaring Himself the fulfillment of this remarkable prophecy. And what are they doing?” He glanced over at Crispin. “They are seething—as humans are prone to do. The Messiah is before them and they cannot see Him. It’s quite delicious.”

“Jesus declared Himself because it was His time,” said Crispin. “He isn’t here to impress these humans. He is here to enlighten them.”

“Well they are definitely enlightened,” said Crispin. “In fact they are enraged!”

As Pellecus spoke, the voices in the synagogue became louder and louder. Pellecus smiled at Crispin, who had a look of concern on his face. The warrior angels advanced, in case Jesus should call upon them.

One of the venerable old rabbis moved to the front of the room and put up his hands to hush the many voices. He turned to speak to Jesus with great courtesy.

“Excuse our indignation, my Son,” he began. “But it is just that we know You from this town. You are the son of Joseph and Mary. How could these Scriptures possibly apply to You?”

Several voices echoed in affirmation.

“No prophet is accepted in his own country,” said Jesus. “Do you recall the story of Elias, the prophet? There was great famine in those days but he was sent only to the widow of Sidon. And then there was the time when Elisha healed only Naaman of his leprosy even though there were many in the land who were afflicted. So it is that I must go where I am sent.”

The door burst open and the men of the synagogue took hold of Jesus, forcing Him out into the street. As He was being taken out, Jesus locked eyes with a man who was coming up the street toward Him. The man watched as Jesus disappeared into the growing crowd.

A painful memory seized the man as he recalled a similar situation when he was a little boy and his own father had been taken away from him in the streets by Herod’s soldiers. He followed along behind the mob, curious as to the outcome.

“Mind Him there!” ordered one of the angels.

Crispin and the other holy angels quickly moved in among the cantankerous people, who had determined to throw Jesus down the steep hillside on the edge of town. Pellecus and his troop watched with great interest as the angels moved in, and Jesus suddenly walked out from among the throng as if they didn’t even see Him!

“Well done, well done!” shouted Crispin to the warriors, whose swords had blinded the minds and eyes of the men to Jesus’ escape. Some of the masses caught a glimpse of Jesus as He departed, but they continued with the crowd to see what would become of the blasphemer.

Pellecus watched as Jesus continued down the street. His disciples joined Him and they left the town. He looked at Crispin with an annoyed countenance.

“I was rather hoping they would tear Him limb from limb,” snorted Pellecus. “But no bother. We will have our way with Him in the end. Lucifer has vowed that Jesus of Nazareth shall yet die. He bleeds like any other man.”

“I can assure you, Pellecus,” said Crispin, “If Jesus bleeds it will not be like any ordinary man.”

“Bah! Away from this wretched place,” said Pellecus, who vanished along with his students.

The remaining angels watched as the warriors moved out of town to join Jesus. Crispin turned back to look at the angels who remained with him. Sensing a question among them, he finally invited their curiosity.

“Good Crispin, why did these men behave so violently?”

“Because men are always threatened by that which is greater than themselves,” he answered. “And some angels too, it seems.”

“But this is the Man they have been waiting for,” said another angel. “He told them so just now.”

Crispin nodded.

“Yes,” said Crispin. “Jesus is the Man for which the whole world has been looking. Unfortunately they don’t have the eyes to find Him.”

“Keep an eye on Him,” said one of the warriors following Jesus.

“I have Him,” said the other.

The two angels assigned by Michael to stay with Jesus at all times had become particularly interested in one man since Jesus left Nazareth. It was the man who had been following Jesus ever since the altercation began—the one who had made eye contact with Him while He was being hustled away.

Jesus was walking along the road leading away from the city and the man was catching up to Him. One of the warriors was at the ready as he approached Jesus.

Just as he was about to call out, Jesus turned and looked at the man. He was about 34 and looked like an ordinary laborer. He also bore the marks of many fights on his body. Jesus locked eyes with him once more and the man trembled a bit.

“I…I saw You in the street,” he began. “Back there.”

“And I saw you,” Jesus said.

They stood there in silence for a moment. The man acted as if he wanted to say something but could not find the right words for it. Finally, in a stumbling manner, he began speaking.

“I am not certain why I am here,” he continued. “But I wanted You to know that when You looked at me I knew You were innocent. I have seen many men die—but they were always guilty…or deserved it. Except for one…many years ago.”

Jesus remained silent as he continued.

“I was prepared to step in and help You!” he said with urgency. His eyes fell to the ground. “But…I only spill Roman blood. My father was killed by the Romans. Or at least he may as well have been. He was butchered by Antipas’ father, the Herod called the Great. I say death to all who play the harlot with Rome.”

As he spoke his mind burned with anger at the memory of his father being taken away while his mother pleaded mercy from Herod all those years ago. He looked hard at Jesus.

“I am not sorry for the men I have killed since then” he said. “I have dedicated my life to overthrowing this bloody tyrant and seeing my country free again. I seek a new kingdom for Israel.”

Jesus motioned for the man to sit beside Him under a small tree near the road. The warriors moved in close just in case the man might try something.

“We are alike then. I, too, wish to see My people set free,” said Jesus. “I, too, am looking for another Kingdom.”

“Then You are a Zealot?” whispered the man. He laughed aloud. “Excuse me for laughing, but You don’t look like the sort of Man who would spill the blood of others.”

“I am zealous, Simon,” answered Jesus. “But not like you. I have not come to spill the blood of others.”

Simon was astonished that the man knew his name.

“Who are You?” he asked.

“Jesus of Nazareth.” He laughed. “My home town has very little use for Me it seems.”

“Nor does mine,” Simon said, a far-away look in his eyes.

“One day you shall find your home, Simon.”

He looked up toward the sky. “Someday we both shall discover that Kingdom for which we long.”

Lucifer sat silently at the large marble table gracing one of Tiberias’ rooms at his Capri palace. Before him and around the table stood the three angels in whom he confided most, and to whom he had given the greatest authority on earth.