Eliakim stared at him. He had thought his father's faith was unshakable, and his confession surprised him.

"It's true, son. But my faith survived the trial, and yours will, too. Don't be afraid to ask for a miracle. But at the same time, pray for the strength to accept G.o.d's will."

Eliakim draped his arm around his father's shoulder as they started walking again. "I can't wait to take Jerusha to the wall and show her that they're really gone!"

"Amen. Praise G.o.d."

When he reached home, Eliakim scooped his two older children up in his arms. "Let's go upstairs and see your mama."

"And baby Joshua?"

"Yes, the baby, too. But you have to be very quiet. They might be sleeping." He crept up the stairs, wondering how he would explain things to little Jerimoth when his baby brother died.

Jerusha lay against the pillow with her eyes closed. She held their tiny son nestled in her arms to keep him warm. Her eyes fluttered open as Eliakim and the children stopped beside the bed.

"Mama!" Jerimoth and Tirza both cried at the same time. They squirmed in Eliakim's arms to get down, but he held them tightly.

"Shhh," he warned. "Don't wake the baby."

"Can I see him, Mama?"

Jerusha folded the covers back, and Eliakim watched his children's faces as they studied their new baby brother in awe.

"He's really little, Abba!"

"Well, he's only five days old."

"Was I that little when I was born?"

Eliakim bit his lip. "No, son. You were much bigger ... and ... and much stronger."

"Kiss baby?" Tirza, still a baby herself, stretched her arms out toward her tiny brother.

"Wait until he grows a bit stronger, love."

"Abba, why does he make that funny noise?" Jerimoth asked.

They could hear the faint grunting sound the baby made each time he struggled to exhale. How should Eliakim answer his curious five-year-old, whose questions always seemed to lead to more questions?

"That's just the way he breathes, son," he replied, then hurried to change the subject. "Jerusha, did you hear them leaving this morning? They're gone! All of them! The a.s.syrians are finally gone!"

She didn't smile. Her eyes filled with tears. "But will they come back again?"

He couldn't answer her question. He was afraid to make a promise he couldn't keep. "Listen, if you feel strong enough this afternoon, I can take you to the wall. You can see for yourself. They're really, truly gone!"

"Hug, Mama! Kiss!" Tirza cried.

Both children strained in Eliakim's arms to go to Jerusha, but she hadn't let the baby out of her arms since he'd been born. "How about it, Jerusha? I'll trade you these two for the baby if you want."

He held his breath, waiting for her response. It would prove that she really believed the a.s.syrians couldn't hurt her. It would tell him if Jerusha would finally be herself again. He set Jerimoth and Tirza down and held his hands out for the baby. Jerusha closed her eyes and gripped Joshua tightly for a moment. Then she kissed his forehead and handed him to Eliakim for the first time.

The baby weighed nothing at all. Eliakim could hold him in the palms of his hands. The baby's tiny nostrils flared with each breath he took as if that might help him draw in more air. He opened his eyes for a moment and gazed at Eliakim as if pleading with him, then wearily closed them again.

As his two older children scrambled into their mother's arms, Eliakim turned away to hide the tears that suddenly filled his eyes. He nestled Joshua against his chest and felt his little heart beating rapidly next to his-much too rapidly.

G.o.d of Abraham, he prayed, please heal my little boy.

__________.

"What went wrong?" Emperor Sennacherib demanded. "I gave you five days."

Iddina's fury pressed against his skull, pounding inside his head, longing for release. "They wouldn't surrender."

"Why not?"

Iddina had asked himself the same question for the past five days, but he didn't know the answer. He had asked it one last time as he'd stood on a rise overlooking Jerusalem, watching his army withdraw to rendezvous with the emperor's troops in Libnah. The roof of the Temple on Jerusalem's highest hill had shone golden as the sun had emerged from behind the clouds the Temple of Judah's G.o.d, the imageless one. The frustration of failure shook through Iddina's body until he wanted to kill someone. He had only failed once before in his life, when he had failed to recapture Jerusha. And Yahweh-her G.o.d-was the only one he had failed to conquer. Iddina vowed to return to Jerusalem. After Egypt, he would come back, and- "Iddina?" The emperor was waiting for an explanation.

"King Hezekiah is relying on Egypt's help," Iddina said. "As soon as we defeat Pharaoh, he'll be ready to surrender."

"Good. I hate loose ends." He rose from his throne and beckoned for Iddina to follow him into the royal compound. He stopped again beside his tent. "Listen, you simply must do something about all these rats. My servants killed five of them in my tent last night. Five! Judah is crawling with them-first in Lachish and now here in Libnah. I've never seen anything like it, have you?"

The unfamiliar tremor of fear rocked Iddina again. He fingered the front of his tunic until he found the lump his amulet made beneath it. But he decided not to remind the emperor of the story the Philistine priests had told them.

"The Judeans are a filthy people, Your Majesty. The world will be better off rid of them for good."

"Right now I'm more concerned about these cursed rats."

Iddina shuddered involuntarily. "If I offer my men a small reward for each one they kill, we should be able to exterminate them quickly."

"Good. Do it. Spend as much gold as you need to, but get rid of them."

While his troops began their campaign against the rats, Iddina spent the day digging through the treasures King Hezekiah had sent as tribute, searching for some article of cultic significance that would give him power over Judah's G.o.d and his army of rats. But after sifting through tons of silver and gold, Iddina found nothing with an image or even a symbol of the deity. The only ornamented item he found was a golden ark, clearly of Babylonian origin. He rubbed his eyes to ease the pounding behind his forehead, baffled by Judah's imageless, monotheistic religion.

That evening Iddina went to see the a.s.syrian high priest, unloading his a.r.s.enal of anger and frustration on him. "How can Yahweh be the G.o.d of war, the G.o.d of fertility, the G.o.d of the dead-the G.o.d of everything at the same time?" he shouted. "And how can Judah's priests inspire loyalty and devotion in the ignorant ma.s.ses without an idol? Without so much as a symbol?" He saw the priest appraising him curiously, and Iddina struggled to contain his temper and disguise his fear.

"Why does it bother you so much, my lord? Judah is an insignificant country with an obscure religion. Soon both will disappear from the map and from the history books as if they had never existed. A thousand years from now, no one will even remember the name of their G.o.d, much less worship him. But the a.s.syrian religion, her G.o.ds-they will endure throughout time."

"Prove it!" Iddina threw the sack he carried onto the ground in front of the priest. The bag writhed as the living creatures inside fought to escape.

"What is that?"

"Judean rats. My men captured three of them alive."

"Rats? What am I supposed to do with them?"

"Examine their entrails. See what they portend."

"You must be joking! Entrails of a rat?"

Iddina clenched his fists and took a step closer. "Do it!"

"Very well, my lord."

Iddina hovered nearby as the bewildered priests began the ritual, reciting the incantations to the beat of pounding drums, enveloping themselves in billowing clouds of incense. He watched the high priest's face as he sliced open the first rat, and Iddina knew immediately that the omens foretold something terrible. By the time he had slaughtered the third rat, the high priest could no longer disguise his horror.

"I-I don't understand this... ." he mumbled.

"Tell me!"

"But I-I can't explain it."

Iddina grabbed the front of the priest's b.l.o.o.d.y robe, nearly lifting him off his feet. "Tell me what the omens say!"

"They ... all three of them ... foretell death!"

"Whose death? The Judeans?"

"No, my lord." The priest's voice trembled. "Ours!"

"How? How is that possible? The Judeans don't have an army left!"

"I don't know, my lord."

"Is it the Egyptians? Are they coming to Judah's aid?"

"My lord, these omens are meaningless. Let me do it again with the proper sacrifices, not with vermin. This time the omens will foretell victory over Pharaoh's forces, just as they have before."

But Iddina didn't wait to see what the omens foretold the second time. He faced a G.o.d more powerful than any he had faced before, and he didn't know how to fight him. He withdrew to his tent, battling his own terrible fear, and spent the long night carving figures of rats and tumors-as the Philistines had once done-and fastening them to his ankles, to his wrists, and to his neck.

26.

ATE IN THE AFTERNOON on the eve of Pa.s.sover, Hezekiah followed the directions Isaiah had given him, through the narrow, winding lanes to the rabbi's house. As soon as the sun set, Pa.s.sover would begin. But as Hezekiah left his guards and servants behind and wandered the unfamiliar streets outside his palace, he regretted accepting Isaiah's invitation. He felt lonely and out of place here, walking among the crowded houses and stinking gutters. Isaiah met him at the front gate.

"Welcome, Your Majesty. We are honored to have you as our guest." He led Hezekiah inside his tiny, one-room home. Isaiah's wife was busy at the hearth, and the fragrant air carried the aroma of roasting lamb. A small wooden table, covered with a homespun cloth, was set with ordinary pottery plates and cups.

Hezekiah looked around at the cooking pots on the hearth, the sleeping mat in the corner, the rabbi's scrolls and tablets piled on a shelf, and the humble, intimate setting made him feel awkward, like an intruder.

"Won't you sit down?" Isaiah asked. He gestured to the seat in the center, while he and his wife took their places at each end of the table. Hezekiah had presided over all of the Pa.s.sover feasts at the palace since his grandfather had died, but tonight the honor would go to Isaiah, as head of the house.

"Your Majesty, don't you think it's fitting that we celebrate our nation's miraculous deliverance at the first Pa.s.sover so soon after our own deliverance from a.s.syria?"

"I'm still overwhelmed, Rabbi. The a.s.syrians just vanished, and we were spared! Maybe you haven't heard yet, but Pharaoh is finally sending out his forces to rescue us. A huge Egyptian army is marching north from Egypt into battle. That's probably why the a.s.syrians withdrew."

"Yahweh promised seven years ago that He would deliver you- remember? 'The Lord Almighty will shield Jerusalem; he will "pa.s.s over" it and will rescue it.' "

"Yes. I remember the day you told me that."

"This Pa.s.sover feast celebrates our physical deliverance from our enemies, but it symbolizes our spiritual redemption, as well."

"Our spiritual redemption? What do you mean?"

"The feast represents Yahweh's eternal plan to redeem our souls from the sin of Adam's fall."

"I've celebrated Pa.s.sover dozens of times, but I never heard that it symbolizes our spiritual redemption. Will you explain how it does that, Rabbi?"

"Why don't we begin, and I'll explain as we celebrate." Isaiah's wife lit the Pa.s.sover candles, and Hezekiah bowed his head as she recited the traditional blessing. Then Isaiah said, "Just as the woman begins our Pa.s.sover by providing light, so it will be that the seed of the woman will begin G.o.d's redemption plan, bringing salvation to light. It is written, 'So the Lord G.o.d said to the serpent ..."I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel." ' "

"Is Yahweh speaking of the Messiah?"

"Yes, the Messiah, the promised seed of the woman. The people who walk in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned... . For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty G.o.d, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David's throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness."

"I don't understand. How can the Messiah-the seed of David- be called 'Mighty G.o.d'?"

"Don't you remember what the psalmist has written? 'O Israel, put your hope in the Lord. He himself will redeem Israel from all their sins.' "

"Yes, but-"

"It was revealed long ago, even to our father Abraham when he told Isaac, 'G.o.d himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering.' "

"Was that when Yahweh provided the ram in the thicket? So that Abraham wouldn't have to sacrifice his son?"

"That's right, Your Majesty." Isaiah lifted the flask of wine and filled their cups. "This wine reminds us of the blood of the Pa.s.sover lamb that was shed for Israel's salvation. As it is written, 'When I see the blood, I will pa.s.s over you.' The four cups of wine we will drink speak of G.o.d's fourfold plan of redemption: 'I will bring you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians... . I will free you from being slaves... . I will redeem you with an outstretched arm... . I will take you as my own people.' "

He set the flask of wine on the table, and they all bowed as Isaiah prayed the blessing. Then Hezekiah raised his cup and drank.

"Tonight we recall our slavery, Your Majesty, so that we can understand the true meaning of freedom. Yahweh liberated us from bondage to man-and from bondage to sin-so that we would be free to serve Him."

Hezekiah looked at Isaiah to see if his words were meant as a rebuke for trusting in the alliance instead of in G.o.d, but the prophet held a clay bowl and pitcher out to him, pouring the water over Hezekiah's hands, saying nothing. When they had all washed, Isaiah pa.s.sed the plate of parsley and a bowl of salt water to dip it into.

"This represents the hyssop our ancestors used to paint the blood of the lamb on their doorposts. The salt represents the tears we shed in Egypt and at the Red Sea."

After they had eaten the parsley, Isaiah took a basket with three loaves of unleavened bread and broke one of the loaves in two, reciting, "This is the bread of affliction our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt; let all those who are hungry enter and eat, and all who are in distress come and celebrate Pa.s.sover."

He looked up at Hezekiah and said, "In the same way, Yahweh invites us to partake of His salvation, saying, 'Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? ... Seek the Lord while he may be found; call on him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way and the evil man his thoughts. Let him turn to the Lord, and he will have mercy on him, and to our G.o.d, for he will freely pardon.' "

"Rabbi, I have difficulty comprehending a G.o.d who is so generous- so forgiving."

"We all do, because we are so unlike Him. That's what tempts us to make idols. We want to cast G.o.d in our own image." Isaiah poured their second cup of wine and raised his own. "This represents Yahweh's second promise to us: 'I will free you from being slaves.' If the Holy One had not brought our ancestors out of Egypt, we and our children and our children's children would still be in bondage to the pharaohs in Egypt. But Yahweh our G.o.d heard our voice and saw our affliction. Blessed be our holy G.o.d."

Hezekiah stared into his winegla.s.s, wondering why he had so foolishly trusted in Egypt for help. Pharaoh's forces had finally come, but much too late for most of Hezekiah's nation. The enemy had destroyed all his fortified cities except Jerusalem.