Jesus Triumphant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 8) (28 page)

• • • • •

The darkness had been over the land for almost three hours. Mary Magdalene huddled with Simon, Jesus’s mother, Joanna, Susanna, Mary, the mother of James, and others, praying to Yahweh. Most of the gawkers, mockers and scoffers had given up interest. The centurion had remained to maintain order with a group of soldiers, and ensure the penalty was fully carried out.

The onlookers had felt an evil presence arrive with the clouds and grow with intensity over the hours. Mary knew this presence well from her past life. She whispered to a knowing Simon, “Demons.”

He nodded. Hordes of demons. They were the bulls of Bashan, from the Place of the Serpent, spoken of by the Scriptures, and expounded to her by Simon. It was as if every evil spirit from every corner of the land gathered together for their final offensive. Because of her spiritual sensitivity to this realm, she could see them.

Simon knew of them from the Scriptures.

Many bulls encompass me;
strong bulls of Bashan surround me;

they open wide their mouths at me,
like a ravening and roaring lion.

I am poured out like water,
and all my bones are out of joint;

my heart is like wax;
it is melted within my breast;

my strength is dried up like a potsherd,
and my tongue sticks to my jaws;
you lay me in the dust of death.

For dogs encompass me;
a company of evildoers encircles me;

they have pierced my hands and feet—

I can count all my bones—

But where are the heavenly host?
thought Simon. Jesus had said in the Garden of Gethsemane that he had twelve legions of angels at his beck and call. Surely, Jesus was holding back until the most significant moment to call them down and bring in his glorious kingdom. But that moment was becoming later and later, and now it looked dangerously late for such a rescue.
Where are the angels of God?

It was about the ninth hour of the day, as best as Mary could determine without the sun visible behind the curtain of darkness.

The men on the crosses were labored in their breathing now. Their lungs were being suffocated as their legs grew too weak to hold themselves up.

The sound of Jesus crying out drew everyone’s attention. He yelled in Aramaic, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?”

The name for God in that language was “Eloi.” Some had misheard him and said, “He is calling Elijah!”

In you our fathers trusted;
they trusted, and you delivered them.

To you they cried and were rescued;
in you they trusted and were not put to shame.

But I am a worm and not a man,
scorned by mankind and despised by the people.

All who see me mock me;
they make mouths at me; they wag their heads;

“He trusts in the
Lord
; let him deliver him;
let him rescue him, for he delights in him!”

A scraggly looking dwarf brought a long hyssop branch up to the foot of the cross of Jesus. It had a sponge dipped in sour wine at its end. No one could tell if the dwarf was a male or female. It was only a few feet high. Mary was unnerved, because she saw its true nature hidden behind a cloak of enchantment that others could not. The creature looked at her and grinned a toothy smile. It felt like a lion baring its teeth. She prayed harder.

The scraggly dwarf held the wine up to Jesus’s mouth. Jesus looked down at him and saw him for what he really was, the eight foot tall serpentine Belial, almost eye level with him. His breathing was like a snake’s hiss. His eyes were reptilian pupils of cold-blooded malevolence. He spoke in a voice that everyone else heard as the dwarf’s almost childish pitch. “Let us see whether Elijah will come to take him down.”

He grinned, looking up at Jesus and for his ears only, whispered, “Lick up, Messssiah. You have losssst.”

The dwarf walked away and left the crowd, laughing.

All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have turned—every one—to his own way;

and the
Lord
has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.

He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
yet he opened not his mouth;

like a lamb that is led to the slaughter,
and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent,
so he opened not his mouth.

Demas tried desperately to draw breath. He wheezed and moaned. He was losing consciousness again. He knew his end was near. He felt himself in a haze, not sure of where he was.

He was brought out of his stupor by the sound of Jesus’s voice crying out again, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!”

Demas jerked his head over to see Jesus mouth the words weakly, “It is finished.” He bowed his head and breathed his last.

Surely he has borne our griefs
and carried our sorrows;

yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.

But he was pierced for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;

upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his wounds we are healed.

At that same moment, Mary Magdalene saw a spiritual rush of wind around them like a tornado, sucking the evil spirits around them down into the earth, through the rocks and into the Abyss. She looked around her. Simon had not seen it. Nor the other women.

No one else had seen it.

Longinus saw the women at the cross begin to wail. They knew their beloved rabbi was dead. Longinus felt a chill go through his body like a shock of lightning.

The earth began to quake.

Longinus widened his stance to keep sure footing. The ground shook around them. The crosses swayed. Everyone heard the sound of the earth shifting and grinding below them. Some screamed for Yahweh’s help.

Longinus had never experienced such a confluence of signs over a single person in his entire life. He had heard of the legend of the comet, that shone for seven days over the Victory Games in honor of Julius Caesar’s death. Octavian claimed to have seen a rainbow halo around the sun in a clear sky after the death of Julius. Those signs verified the deification of Julius, his apotheosis. Augustus, who called himself “the Son of God,” was allegedly witnessed by an ex-praetor as being received into heaven as divinity at his death. But what had disturbed Longinus most, was the legend of the prophecy that Augustus himself had been given by the Pythian Oracle at Delphi. She had foretold,

“In token of judgment, the earth shall drip with sweat.

A king destined to rule forever will arrive from heaven,

present in mortal flesh, in order to judge the world.”

That king, Augustus was told, was not him, but someone else to come. Augustus had claimed to be the Son of God. The line of Caesars was to be the continuation of that divine identity. Longinus had misplaced his faith in a delusion of grandeur. Caesar was not the Son of God and savior. He was not divine. He played divine to secure his power upon the prejudices of the people. Longinus had been a fool. He had followed a demonic delusion.

When the rumbling had finally stopped, Longinus looked up at the body of Jesus and said, “Truly,
this man
was the Son of God.”

Then the words of the Baptizer returned to him, from that cold, dark cell in the dungeon of Herod miles away.
You will never find what you are looking for. I pray it finds you.
Longinus had been found.

• • • • •

Deep underground, a half mile away from Golgotha, the earth had shifted and a crevice opened up that led to the surface a thousand feet above. With that titanic movement, an opening broke and the archangel Uriel could breathe fresh air again. He crawled out from within the trapping rock, and made his way up the precipitous climb, out of his earthly prison.

“Thank you, my lord, Yahweh,” he prayed. “I certainly don’t deserve such kindness. I vow to be nicer to Gabriel when I see him.”

• • • • •

No human saw what happened in the Temple. It would only be discovered later.

The veil that shielded the Holy of Holies and kept Yahweh’s throne separated from the world began to tear down from top to bottom. The sound of the ripping drew priests from all over the inner temple to see what had happened. They withdrew in shock.

The veil was a handbreadth thick, so this was not caused by the earthquake. It was the hand of God.

What was Yahweh doing? Why would he tear down the barrier between the sacred and the profane? Why would he expose to all what was only allowed to the high priest on a single Day of Atonement?

• • • • •

The bodies of the crucified normally hung for days until they died and had their corpses picked clean by scavengers. But the Jews had asked Pilate to kill them quickly and take them down, because it would be sacrilege to have them up during the Sabbath. Longinus had been given the orders to break the criminals’ legs so they could no longer hold themselves up, and would finish their slow suffocation to death in minutes.

Two soldiers went up to Demas and Gestas. When Demas felt the first club on his leg, he heard the crunch of broken bone. He whimpered as a jet of pain shocked his entire body. Another clubbing, more lightning searing pain, and his other leg went limp. He sank and felt his lungs struggling desperately to suck air.

He saw his brother with the same injuries, gasping for the same air.

Their time had come.

In his last moments of life, through dizzied blurred eyes, he saw Longinus approached Jesus with a javelin.

Longinus didn’t need to break the legs of the Nazarene. He was already dead.

Yahweh protects all his bones,
not one of them will be broken.

But the centurion had to make sure for legal reasons, so he raised his javelin and lanced Jesus’s side. A sympathetic pain slashed Longinus’ heart. He felt as if he lanced himself.

Separated blood and water poured out from the body and ran down the stomach and legs. The god-man was dead.

Longinus knew that he could raise his sword against the Jews no more.

Demas saw that Gestas was dead.

As Demas slipped into oblivion, he looked up and thought he saw, surrounding them at a distance, a myriad of heavenly host on chariots of fire.

He bowed his head and breathed his last.

• • • • •

The blood from Jesus poured down his body and onto the wood. It continued to drip down onto the rocks that held up the cross, and then into the hole where the post was stuck.

It continued to make its way, slowly through the crevices, driven by supernatural intent, until it finally pooled on an artifact deep in the soil of Golgotha, buried a millennium before by King David. The skull of Goliath from Gath, Seed of the Serpent.

By oppression and judgment he was taken away;
and as for his generation, who considered

that he was cut off out of the land of the living,
stricken for the transgression of my people?

although he had done no violence,
and there was no deceit in his mouth.

Yet it was the will of the
Lord
to crush him;
he has put him to grief;

when his soul makes an offering for guilt,
he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days;

the will of the
Lord
shall prosper in his hand.

Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied;

by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant,
make many to be accounted righteous,
and he shall bear their iniquities.

Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many,
and he shall divide the spoil with the strong,

because he poured out his soul to death
and was numbered with the transgressors;

yet he bore the sin of many,
and makes intercession for the transgressors.

Darkness.

Demas opened his eyes with a gasp. What had happened to the pain? His legs no longer felt broken. He felt no crucifixion wounds in his hands and feet. His tongue and lips were no longer parched and cracked. He no longer felt pain.

He looked at his hands and legs. They appeared to be there, but were more like emanations of moving light than physical flesh and blood.

He was dead.

He looked around him. He was on a tall mountain, surrounded by a land of darkness. He didn’t know how, but he could see despite the darkness. Did he now have “spiritual” eyes?

Below him on the southwest base of the mountain was a huge valley that burned with fire. Its yawning gulf beckoned like the mouth of a dragon, hungry for flesh.

Beyond the valley was desert wasteland. Above him was strangest of all. The sky was low-hanging rock in some places, and a ceiling of water in others. It was as if an ocean of water was upside down on the cavern roof of an upside down world. He knew those must be the waters of the Abyss.

The mountain he was on broke through a rock ceiling above that no doubt went up into the overworld.

So this was Hades.

His observations were interrupted by the arrival of Jesus from out of a cave opening. He too looked similar to his earthly body, but without his crucifixion wounds, and with an emanating light that gave him an ethereal presence. It was as if he were both there and not there at the same moment.

Jesus carried a giant skull in one hand and a strange tool in the other. He dropped the skull to the ground. Demas noticed that it had blood drizzled over it. Jesus then stomped on it, crushing it to pieces. Demas thought that a normal bare foot would have broken itself on the giant skull. These spiritual bodies must have interesting properties.

Jesus said, “I have been waiting to do that for a long time.”

“Whose is it?”

“It’s a long story.” Jesus looked out into the distance. “But then again, we have a long trip ahead of us, so I will tell you, once we get going.”

Demas smiled, “So this isn’t the Paradise you promised me.”

Jesus returned his grin. “Not yet.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” Jesus handed the strange object to Demas. He took it and examined it. It was a sword handle that ended in a worn leather sheath. But it wasn’t a long sword scabbard. It looked more like a square bulky case, as if the sword handle had a large hammer head at the end of it. Demas opened the sheath and drew the handle out. A long, ten foot flexible blade unfurled out onto the ground. It looked like a long dragon tongue made of solid yet liquid metal.

Jesus said, “It’s a whip sword. My ancestor Lamech nicknamed it ‘Rahab’ after the sea dragon of chaos. For obvious reasons.”

Demas moved the deadly blade around, mesmerized by its fluid serpentine movements. “How is it I can wield an earthly object down here?”

“It was forged by the archangel Gabriel with heavenly metal on the primordial Mount Sahand.”

“The Garden of Eden?” asked Demas.

“Yes. It was passed down through the hands of mighty Karabu warriors who fought the Seed of the Serpent through history. Lamech, Shem, Caleb ben Jephunneh, Ittai the Gittite. Now it is yours.”

Demas stopped his examination of the blade. He looked up darkly at Jesus. “If I need a weapon, that can only mean….”

“You will only need it if you leave my side. Go ahead. Try it.”

Demas said, “I am a little out of practice.”

He looked around and noticed that there were trees and bushes around them. But instead of being rooted downward into the ground, it was their ugly barren and tangled roots that sprouted
out
of the ground. As if they were planted upside down in this upside down netherworld.

He stretched out the whip sword, spotted a target branch, and let loose a stinging crack. The large branch severed like a blade of wheat beneath a scythe. Demas smiled.

“I like it.”

Demas rolled up the blade and returned it to its sheath that he belted around his waist. “Will I be needing this against Cerberus, the three-headed hound of hell?”

Jesus smiled. “You have been reading too much Greek mythology.”

“No River Styx or the boatman Chabon?”

Jesus shook his head no.

“No Elysian fields?”

“No Elysian fields. No temple of Pluto or Hades. Nothing pleasant in this Land of No Return.” Then Jesus added, “And I am not Hercules.” They shared a laugh. “There are some rivers here, and there is Tartarus. But it’s not what you think.”

“Well, what is it then?”

Jesus paused for a moment, apparently deciding what to tell Demas. Then he said, “You are familiar with the spiritual concept ‘As above, so below?’”

Demas replied, “Of course.”
As above, so below
was the saying that expressed the understanding of the nature of the cosmos in all cultures of the world. Heaven and earth were spiritually united. Yahweh’s temple and throne was in the waters above the heavens. Directly below it, in the center of the earth, was the Temple and the ark, his earthly throne. Sacrifices below were satisfied above. But also, the gods of the nations were so connected to their allotted territories that when nations fought battles on earth, the principalities and powers over the nations also fought in the heavenlies. Gentile pagans worshipped the host of heaven in place of Yahweh, granting sovereignty to signs in the heavens that Yahweh alone deserved. But the spiritual truth remained: On earth as it is in heaven.

Jesus said, “In a way, the same principle holds true for the underworld. The map of this world reflects the sacred map of the world above. Right now, we are on Mount Zion, the center of the earth, and the center of Hades.”

Demas looked above him and imagined Golgotha, where they had just recently died.

“Where is my brother?” He was afraid to look at Jesus.

“Gestas chose his destiny as you chose yours.”

Demas’ eyes welled up with tears of regret. “I lived as depraved a life as he. I do not deserve to be with you any more than he does.”

Jesus was beside him with an understanding hand of compassion on his shoulder. “You are right, Demas. You do not deserve what you have received.”

Demas looked into Jesus’s eyes. They were like flames of fire penetrating his very being with a burning, cleansing brightness.

Demas’s knees buckled and he found a rock to sit down upon as tears now flowed from his eyes.

He sputtered, “But why me? Why me, Lord?”

All his life he had said those words as accusations against a God who had seemed to unfairly take everything from him; his parents, his love, his hope. Now, he realized he had deserved nothing. Now, he felt as if he was being unfairly favored.

Was this grace? Was this the mystery of God’s election? Yahweh had chosen Israel, not because of her righteousness, but for his own reasons and purposes. Jacob he loved, Esau he hated.

Demas he loved, Gestas he hated?

Jesus said softly to him, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion.”

Jesus did not have to explain himself. Demas knew that he was not the only sinner on earth. Everyone stood guilty in their sins before a holy and just Creator. The sacrifices that atoned for sins in the temple were only temporary coverings. The blood of bulls and goats could not take away sins. Even the high priest needed to sacrifice for his own sins. The earthly temple and all its cult was a mere shadow of the more perfect heavenly temple that had to be entered into by a perfect and sinless high priest.

But time and again, he had been warned that not everyone would follow Messiah and join the Kingdom of Heaven. And what else could be in store for those who would reject the atonement of Yahweh and his Son?

Jesus looked out onto the valley of fire. “That is Gehenna, where the worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched. It is the ‘Valley of Slaughter’ where Yahweh pours out his wrath upon his enemies. Even now, the fires are preparing for the Day of the Lord that is soon to come.”

He turned to the east. All Demas could see was blackness. Jesus said, “To the far east, beyond the ends of the earth and the waters of the Abyss, in the midst of
tohu wabohu
, is Tartarus.”

Demas knew this land of chaos and disorder was where the disobedient angels were imprisoned. Jesus looked to the south and waved his hand. Demas could see the darkness part, as if by a vision, and he could see a distant ridge of mountains that ascended into the rocky ceiling above. There were seven of them, and they all sparkled of precious gemstones. The middle mountain was the largest and its top was on fire.

Jesus said, “That is Sinai, the mountain of fire, the original throne of Yahweh.

He turned to the north and waved his hand again. Again, Demas could see in the distance, as if by vision, a tall mountain that reached up to heaven. Storm and clouds surrounded it. Jesus said, “That is Mount Hermon, the celestial storehouse. It is at the source of the rivers.”

Demas thought of Jesus’s statement so long ago, when he was with him at Panias: “Upon this rock, I will build my church.” It would be a new Eden.

“Is that where we are going?”

“No.” Jesus turned to the west. Miles beyond the fires of Gehenna, Demas now saw a tall mountain shrouded in darkness and silence. “That is where we are going. The Mountain of the Dead.”

Jesus began to walk down toward the north side of the mountain. Demas ran to catch up.

Jesus said, “We must travel north a bit to get around the cursed valley. One of the rivers will take us the rest of the way to the mountain in the west.”