Jesus Triumphant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 8) (14 page)

John said nothing in response.

Longinus continued, “I understand you are the one to prepare the way for this ‘Messiah’ of yours. A new King of the Jews.”

The Baptizer threw an intense stare at him. Longinus was taken aback. It felt as if he was looking into his soul. Longinus was a battle hardened soldier, who had stood before Caesar as before a god. But he had never had such an experience as this. This simple madman’s stare frightened him, cut to his soul.

Longinus asked, “Is this an armed revolt? Does it have anything to do with the bandit leader, Barabbas?”

John’s solemn glare turned into a smile. He shook his head with disdain. “I know nothing of Barabbas. I anointed Jesus bar Joseph as Messiah. And as for his kingdom, well….” He paused. “The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one who is not offended by him.”

Longinus hated prophets. They always spoke in obscure, poetic references rather than straight talk. Even those in his own religion of Mithraism, the religion of the Roman legions. So much more could be accomplished in this world if people would but be clear in their speech and intentions.

“This Jesus, he is a sorcerer? A magician?”

John ignored the question. “Tell me, centurion, I can see you are upright, a man of law.” A chill went through Longinus’ spine.
How did he know?

“Will such law save your soul?”

“What do you mean?”

“You are a man of integrity. You believe in directness and you hate deception. But have you ever lied?”

Longinus did not know where this was going, so he balked at answering him.

“Even once? In your entire life?”

Still no answer from the Stoic Longinus.

John said, “Take for instance your claim to be able to ‘help me’.”

That statement shot through Longinus like a javelin of truth. How could he know such things?

“Of course I have lied. Everyone lies. I am human.”

“So, it is human to lie. But is it right?”

It was strange, the influence this strange prophet had on breaking down the barriers.

“No, it is not right.”

“Have you ever taken anything that was not yours?”

In this, Longinus was unlike most other officers and soldiers of the legions. He did not skim from war booty, he did not charge extra taxes for his own purse. But alas, he was not always so.

“When I was young, I was a delinquent and an ingrate. I had to learn the value of ownership, responsibility and integrity.”

The Baptizer gave him a nod of acknowledgement. “No doubt you have met the Herods. Does their sexual depravity disgust you?”

Longinus knew this was the accusation that had gotten this madman in trouble. He would not defend this Jew, no matter how much he may have agreed with him.

The Baptizer asked him as one might ask a child, “Have
you
ever lusted after a woman?”

Such questions were ridiculous. He answered, “Lust is the natural order of mankind. But character is destiny.” Longinus had read Heraclitus as well as the Stoics. But his character was in his discipline.

“So you have
not
lusted after women.”

“I have. But
you
are not here to interrogate
me
, Baptizer.”

“Forgive me,” said John, “I plead for your indulgence. For you know I have but little time left.”

Another chill went through Longinus’ bones. How did this flea-bitten beggar know of such hidden royal decisions? He sighed with contempt and waved his hand. “Go ahead.”

“Well, in answer to your question about Jesus; where others say we must not commit adultery, he says, that if we even look at woman with lust, we have committed adultery in our heart.”

Ridiculous
, thought Longinus.
Such petty scruples and semantics
.

The Baptizer kept going, “You have been employed to bring murderers to justice.”

Longinus was thinking of how this was not leading him to his target, Barabbas and the two brigands.

“Well, Jesus said that everyone who is angry with his brother or hates him will meet their justice in the fires of Gehenna.”

Longinus protested such insanity, “I love my fellow Roman, but my enemies, I hate.”

John replied, “Jesus said to love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. For loving those who love you,” he paused again for ironic emphasis, “is no better than what Romans do.” John broke out in a devious grin. “I was just praying for Herod Antipas when you arrived, but now I see I should pray for you as well.”

“Stop this foolishness, Baptizer. You are correct. You do not have much time. So what is your point?”

John said, “Well, centurion, you pride yourself on your righteousness. Yet you have just admitted to me that you are a lying, thieving, murderous adulterer of the heart, and you will one day stand before your Creator to face judgment for all the deeds you have done. A holy god who allows no evil, no matter how small, in his presence. Will the Law save you then? Or will it condemn you?”

“You Jews and your god,” grumbled Longinus. “I have seen your elaborate sacrifices in the temple from the Antonia.” The Antonia was a Roman fortress built along the northern wall of the Jerusalem Temple in order to allow the Romans to keep an eye on Jewish religious activities.

“This is why Jesus came,” said John. “Atonement. Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Even the sins of repentant Roman centurions.”

“I am through with your nonsense, Baptizer. If this Messiah of yours has no other secret plan than meekness, mercy, and poverty of spirit, then I fail to see how his followers think they can stand up to the might and power of Rome. You would have a better chance with the Zealots.”

And he was about to hunt down those seditious rebels and crush their hopes and dreams as well. He got up to leave.

“Centurion.”

Longinus turned.

“You will never find what you are looking for. I pray it finds you.”

More gibberish
, thought Longinus. He rapped on the door and two guards opened it to let him out. They stayed inside and approached the Baptizer.

Longinus turned to watch them through the barred window.
What did the Baptizer mean, I would never find what I am looking for? Did he mean Barabbas and the brothers? Or was he using that cynical trick of double meaning for his spiritual longing?
It bothered Longinus. There was something about this madman prophet and his meekly Messiah that Longinus could not get out of his mind.

He watched the guards carrying in a platter with a display of lettuce, vegetables and fruit. But this was not another offer of food for the prisoner.

One of the Guards shackled the Baptizer’s hands behind him. The other got behind him and pulled out a long dagger.

Longinus swallowed. He knew what came next. He had been there when Herodias commanded the guards. She hated this harmless Baptizer with such venom that she wanted him to suffer, to really suffer. So instead of using the standard swift blade of the executioner’s axe or broadsword, this guard used a simple dagger to manually saw through the poor soul’s neck, throat and vertebrae.

It was a heinous, wicked act of cowards, and it confirmed to Longinus that he would not even return to the palace. He would set out immediately for his century out in the desert and leave for Galilee.

For the first time in his life as a soldier, he could not watch. He had overseen atrocities of every kind; the horrors of war, the slaughter of innocent men, women and children, the evisceration of barbarians, the crucifixion of criminals. But for some reason he could not comprehend, this simple, cruel beheading made him sick to his stomach.

These Herodians deserve the fires of Gehenna
, he thought. But he felt almost as if he was party to it as well.

And what of me
?

He walked away before he could see the climax of bizarre evil: placing the Baptist’s head on the platter of fruit and vegetables.

He tried to push the haunting experience with the Baptizer and his horrifying demise out of his mind. He set his sights on his next target: the outlaws’ hideout just outside of Scythopolis.

Eleazar ben Shemuel shifted uncomfortably in his shackles. They were a bit too small for his wrists and ankles. They were made for normal prisoners. Eleazar was not normal. A Jew by birth, he had grown up in the remnant of exiled Jews still residing in Babylon. But as a giant, over ten feet tall, he was ostracized by his own people and so had led a band of outlaws in the Parthian empire east of the Euphrates River. He was currently a captive of the Parthian king Artabanus III, awaiting his transfer as a gift to Caesar.

Eleazar was the product of his Jewish mother having been raped by a Philistine Rephaim from Gath. Out of shame, she traveled from Judea to the Israelite community in Babylon. When he had his growth spurt at the age of five, she took him into the wilderness to raise him. She had told him many stories from the Torah of her people. But she had carefully left out the story of his own cursed background. It wasn’t until he had come of age and joined a band of outlaws that he learned of his true heritage.

A captured caravan had produced various scrolls on their way to the monastery of Qumran. The literature was Mesopotamian, Canaanite and Jewish holy writ. To the other bandits, these were worthless. But to Eleazar, they were a treasure trove of knowledge that filled in his own incomplete storyline. Eleazar promptly read through the Tanakh, or Hebrew Scriptures, with an increasing anger and hatred for the god of those Scriptures, Yahweh Elohim, and his minions of evil.

He had learned of the curse on the Serpent in the Garden. How Yahweh had promised a war between the Seed of the Serpent, and the Seed of Eve, that would rage through history until a messiah king would crush the head of that Serpent.

He had learned of the origin of his identity as a giant in the primeval Nephilim of antediluvian days. Sons of God from Yahweh’s divine council had come to earth and mated with the daughters of men. This unholy mixing of Yahweh’s separated creation order earned them the name Seed of the Serpent. They were the minions of the gods who brought great violence and wickedness upon the earth. There was a rebellion of giants called the Titanomachy and War on Eden called the Gigantomachy. They were both uprisings led by Nephilim against Yahweh. Yahweh had regretted that he had made man on the earth and sent the Great Deluge. But he saved a man, Noah, and his family because Noah was uncorrupted by Nephilim blood and was righteous before Yahweh.

The Nephilim bloodline survived the Flood and most of them migrated to the land of Canaan, where they became the mighty giant clans of the Amalekites, Amorites, Emim, Zuzim, and Rephaim. The giants were nearly wiped out again in the war campaign of the Four Kings of Mesopotamia led by Chederlaomer in the days of Abraham.

Over the next four hundred years, they repopulated and filled the land of Canaan, with the Anakim becoming the mightiest of all giant clans. Their leaders, Ahiman, Sheshai, and Talmai, each ruled with a giant iron fist throughout the Cisjordan in the west, while the giant warrior king, Og of Bashan reigned over the Transjordan in the East.

Around this time, the Hebrews left four hundred years of slavery to Egypt behind in an exodus. They came to the land of Canaan to claim it as their inheritance. Their warrior general, Joshua led them to wipe out all the Rephaim and Anakim in the land in holy Wars of Yahweh to cleanse the land of their enemy. It was a penultimate climax to the War of the Seed.

But Joshua had left some Rephaim in the coastal cities of the Philistines. Those giants once again reproduced, and by the time of the monarchy of Israel, they had become a military cult dedicated to assassinating the Messiah King of Israel. They were called “The Sons of Rapha,” and they were led by a Philistine champion, a Rephaim giant, Goliath of Gath.

Eleazar had learned how the Israelite David rose up and slew the Philistine Goliath with a simple stone. He read that David became the Messiah king, and wiped out the last of the giants in the Valley of the Rephaim. As was always the case, some had survived, but they were not a very fertile people group. As time went on, the Rephaim giants had almost completely died out, save a few remnants scattered throughout the earth. Eleazar had heard that there were some that had escaped the Wars of Yahweh by taking ships to the far west. Just where they ended up, he did not know.

The story read to the titan Eleazar as if they were Chronicles of the Nephilim. These giants were his own kin. Goliath was his forefather. He was the Seed of the Serpent. But he never asked to be, which angered him even more. He was just as mad at the gods who birthed him as he was at the god Yahweh who cursed him. His bitterness had boiled over in him. He lashed out at everyone and every power and authority. He even rebelled against the Persian god Ahura Mazda in Parthia.

He actually attacked the divinity in the midst of an uprising and fought with him in battle. Of course he was bested and captured by the god, but Ahura Mazda was so impressed with the bravado of the Rapha, that he decided to spare him. Giants and humans did not attempt such a thing since primeval days. Archangels were the evenly matched opponents of deity. But Eleazar showed real skill when he fought Ahura Mazda. It seemed to the Persian god like a waste to destroy such a specimen. It would be better to put him on display as entertainment. Thus Eleazar’s current predicament of captivity.

Eleazar was awakened from his sleep by a group of twenty Parthian soldiers. They could never be too cautious in guarding their titanic prisoner. He was chained from his neck to his hands to his feet. They marched him across a bridge on the Euphrates river in the northern regions of the Parthian empire of Mesopotamia. This was the very bridge that Vitellius of Syria met in concert with Artabanus to negotiate peace between Rome and Parthia.

Those two powers had been in conflict for decades. The recent years of Pax Romana had brought a temporary cessation of hostilities and the cautious interchanges of diplomacy such as this very one occurring across the Euphrates.

Eleazar saw his destination, a large festive tent across the river that leaked music and loud celebration. The captive giant had to hobble slowly on his chained feet through the cold, windy evening. It felt humiliating. He looked for an opportunity to escape or strike back at his captors. He saw none.

He ducked down to go through the low entrance to the tent. As he stood back up, the festive crowd inside went silent. All eyes had turned upon him. His twenty guards surrounded him and led the way through a parted crowd, up to the front table of the tent. Naked female dancers stopped and moved out of the way.

Eleazar’s head gently brushed the top of the tent. He was used to it. Up front were two portable kingly thrones of equal height that held Vitellius and Artabanus, reposing with chalices of drink. Their advisors sat clustered around them.

Vitellius’ eyes went wide when he saw the giant. The Roman legionaries around him tightened their stances and pulled in closer to their general in protection.

A portly blob of a man stood next to the Syrian ruler’s throne. Eleazar could see by his robes he was some kind of Jewish royalty. His soft, pale flesh reminded Eleazar of a grub worm.

The Parthian king’s son, Darius, stood beside Artabanus. He was about twenty years old and looked quite glum.

Artabanus spoke out, “In addition to my son, I offer this creature as a gift to Tiberius Caesar.”

Eleazar realized the reason for Darius’ gloom. The boy was going to go live in Rome as a gesture of diplomacy between the empires.

Vitellius said, “Where did you find him? I thought the Rephaim had all died out.”

“They are a rare breed these days,” said Artabanus. “This one is quite the fighter. Believe it or not, he is a Jew. One of the lawless brigands around the Babylonian region.”

Eleazar noticed the grub worm step out in the light to get a closer look at him. It was Herod Antipas.

Artabanus continued, “Jews are the most stubborn of animals. Near impossible to tame. They are obsessed with prophecies of a coming warrior king, a new “deliverer” who they think will overthrow the powers of the earth. Thanks to your prophet Daniel who infected our Magi centuries ago.”

Eleazar saw the Parthian king look at the grub and say, “But then, I take it, Antipas, that you Herods are all too familiar with such rebellion and its religious babble.”

Antipas replied, “Indeed. It seems the only thing our many factions of outlaws have in common is their certitude of a living Messiah somewhere in the midst of Judea or Galilee.”

“Really?” said Artabanus. “Are there any prospects?”

The discussion piqued Eleazar’s attention.
Living Messiah?
That would be the Seed of Eve who was prophesied to crush the Seed of the Serpent. That would be Eleazar’s arch enemy, his ultimate foe.

Antipas said, “It is difficult to say. We are hunting down the brigand leaders. I don’t see any of them having sufficient forces to be of major concern to Rome.” He paused. “There is one curious fellow though. I imprisoned and executed a prophet who, according to his fanatical followers, was Elijah come back from heaven. He claimed to have anointed this one fellow, a Nazarene, itinerant rabbi. Claimed he was the Son of God. That he would inherit the earth.”

Eleazar immediately remembered a prophecy, he could not remember from where, that said of Messiah, “He shall be called a Nazarene.” He was also well acquainted with the Davidic Psalm that spoke of Yahweh having a unique Son.

“You are my Son; today I have begotten you.

Ask of me, and I will make the nations your inheritance,
and the ends of the earth your possession.

You shall break them with a rod of iron
and dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel.”

“A Nazarene?” said Artabanus. “Can anything of importance come from Nazareth, a town of such insignificance?”

Antipas said, “Oh, it is more unreasonable than that, my lord. The prophet, the one whose head I removed, he said this Nazarene was born in Bethlehem, an even more worthless backwater town.”

Eleazar shuddered. He knew all the prophecies. He had studied them. That small town cut out virtually all claimants to Messiah.

But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah,
who are too little to be among the clans of Judah,

from you shall come forth for me
one who is to be ruler in Israel,

whose coming forth is from of old,
from ancient days.

Artabanus chuckled. “It seems this Jewish god is playing a joke on your so-called liberators.”

Vitellius had nothing to add to this annoying exchange. He couldn’t wait until he could get back to his tent and get to sleep. But such banter was good diplomacy, so he tolerated it.

Antipas said, “The Jews love their mythic connections. The Son of God, a Son of David, the original Messiah king of Israel.”

Eleazer knew all too well about the promised Son of David.

“Behold, the days are coming, declares Yahweh,
when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch,

and he shall reign as king and deal wisely,
and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land.

“A son of Zeus!” said an amused Artabanus.

“You jest,” said Antipas, “But you are more in on the joke than you realize.”

Antipas wanted to ingratiate himself with the foreign ruler. He kept the amusement going like a master of chorus in a Greek play.

“Rumors have been spreading that this Nazarene was born of a virgin!”

Artabanus outright laughed. “Ah ha! I was right! How entertaining. He is trying to cast himself as born of divine human copulation, like your own hero, Vitellius, what is his name again?”

“Hercules.”

“Bravo! Hercules reborn!”

But the virgin birth was no rumor or legend. Eleazar knew of the prophet Isaiah speaking seven hundred years before their own time.

Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.

“Immanuel” meant “God with us.”

“But here is the biggest joke of all,” said Antipas. “The man is a favorite of peasants and plebs. He has no armed forces, and he tells his followers to love their enemies. He is about the
only
one who would turn down the crown if everyone made him king!”

Artabanus clapped with glee. “Wonderful! Wonderful! It sounds like a comedy worthy of Aristophanes.” Artabanus prided himself on knowing the culture of his Greco-Roman opponents.

Antipas said, “That is not a bad idea, my lord. I will commission it and have it dedicated to your lordship.”

Eleazar was not amused. A Nazarene, born of a virgin, in the town of Bethlehem, from the tribe of Judah, a Son of David. It did not matter what these chortling fools thought, the odds on fulfilling those prophecies alone were only possible for one man: Messiah. Artabanus was right about the prophet Daniel’s influence. The story of King Nebuchadnezzar II and his dream of a mighty statue of kingdoms to come was fresh on the minds of all Jews in the region. The dream image had foretold the kingdoms of Greece, Media-Persia, and now, Rome. But what was of more interest to Eleazar was the stone that was cut from the mountain of God without human hands. It hit the last kingdom of the statue and broke them all to pieces.