Identity Theft (25 page)

Below them, how far I could not tell, men fought—first with words, manipulation, and deception and then with weapons. The scenes were clearly
parallel
. Whatever war was being unleashed on earth was also being fought in the heavenlies.

Why was I being shown this?
I wondered.
And where was Ariel?

The battles below were not merely military. Multitudes of conflicts were being waged. I saw a white man in Africa. He stood on a large platform before millions of people sharing passionately about the very things I had just witnessed—that Yeshua the Messiah gave His life for them and through Him they could escape God’s wrath and have eternal life. Above the preacher, a spiritual battle ensued—demons desperately seeking to maintain their hold on the people, while angelic beings simultaneously fought for their freedom. So many of the people had chains visibly upon them, like prisoners. I could see that even as the war waged above them, smaller demonic entities had their talons buried deep within many of the hearers. Their names were
witchcraft, adultery, bitterness, shame, abuse
, and the like. The forces of God, both angelic and human, were fighting for the souls of men!

One by one, as the people came forward answering the preacher’s call, angelic beings would swoop down, like a smart bomb seeking its target, dislodging these demons’ hold upon their captives. The people would respond with tears of joy as they discovered their newfound freedom; some were jumping up and down with excitement. The weight of guilt and sin was gone; the demonic control, broken.

What was clear to me in all of this conflict was the centrality and importance of what Yeshua had accomplished in His death. The absolute power of His blood, the blood of an innocent Lamb, to set the captives free and to authorize angelic intervention on behalf of the souls who believed in Him was in evidence everywhere.

It was absolutely clear to me that the critical factor in all of this was the decision of the person to go forward—to believe in the Messiah and accept what He had done for them. At that moment, they became new people—I could see it—delivered out of Satan’s cruel domain into the Kingdom of God. I could tell the difference between those whose sins had been taken away by the Lamb’s blood and those who were still under Satan’s control.

It was evident that there were other spiritual dynamics at work here as well—the words that came from the preacher’s mouth were set on fire by God’s Holy Spirit and appeared to me as fiery arrows of Life going forth, literally piercing the hearts of his hearers. I remembered what Luke wrote about the Jewish men who heard Kefa—“They were cut to the heart.”

Behind the stage were hundreds of people of whom the crowds were completely unaware. They were engaged in a spiritual war, it seemed, crying out to God for the gathered souls to find freedom and salvation. Some were pacing, others were kneeling, but all were praying. These prayer warriors might have been dressed in normal clothes outwardly, but spiritually, I could see that each one of them was fully dressed in battle armor. As their prayers ascended I could see the spiritual atmosphere around the meeting visibly clearing as the enemy was driven back. With some, tongues of fire were released as they prayed; for others their prayers in the form of incense traveled upward toward Heaven making intercession before God. These people
knew
they were at war.

Still, among all the elements at play here—the preacher’s words, the angelic intervention, the believers’ prayers and the conviction of God’s Holy Spirit—I could see that the pivotal factor remained the decision of the individual either to believe and receive the salvation that Yeshua offered or not. Nothing determined the outcome more than that decisive first step toward Yeshua, taken individually by those in the crowd.

This was all absolutely amazing. As I marveled at everything I had witnessed, at what I had been so privileged to see and hear and know, I felt something dark invade my space, and the next thing I knew, I was being ripped away from the arena of spiritual warfare.

Fear filled my consciousness; it was so tangible I could smell it as I spun out of control in utter darkness. I thought I was going to be sick. Then a cold shiver went up my spine as I recognized that I wasn’t alone. I was in the very presence of evil.

After several minutes, I found myself back in the classroom, but I was not prepared for what I witnessed there. Ariel was on the ground; a demonic being had his foot on his neck, keeping him from speaking. Other demonic creatures—the most hideous beings I had ever seen—filled the classroom. A horrible stench emanated from them.

One of them began to move in my direction. I was terrified, but had nowhere to run. I was paralyzed with fear. Then, as he approached me he slowly transformed into another being altogether—so beautiful! So attractive! The most appealing creature I had ever seen.

“David,” he said in a voice like velvet that brought with it all the comfort of a mother’s tender love, “we have come to rescue you. What happened to you today could have destroyed you, your family. Your father…”

Just then Ariel yelled out. I had almost forgotten him as the beautiful being was blocking him from my view, or at least was trying to. “David!” he yelled, “these demons will masquerade as angels of light, but they want to ki…” (see 2 Cor. 11:14). The demon’s foot pushed harder against Ariel’s throat, silencing him once again. The beautiful angelic creature momentarily reverted back to its former repulsive appearance as he turned in the direction of the demon guarding Ariel and communicated with a look that could have killed. “Keep him quiet you idiot! We don’t have much time!”

As he turned back to me, the transformation reoccurred, becoming more angelic with each degree of the turn. Until once again, I came under his hypnotic appeal—an empathetic love that made me want to just melt in his presence. His silken voice and tender tone mesmerized me, draining me of all resistance. I was no longer afraid of him, but drawn to him, as if enchanted by a spell.

“David,” his voice seemed to envelop me, “you are safe now. They cannot confuse you anymore. Can you imagine what this foolish decision—to become a
Christian
—would have done to your family? Your father? Embracing Jesus would kill him!”

I felt the worst guilt I had ever experienced—no,
shame
was a more accurate term. He was right. What was I thinking?

“Do you really want to lose your friends, your family, your standing in the community? Do you want to be labeled a fanatic? Do you want your children to be treated as pariahs by other children? Parents would have warned their children to stay away from yours—that is assuming Lisa hadn’t left you and taken the kids with her. Of course you wouldn’t want to put them through that.”

He was right. I didn’t.

“And David, let’s be honest. There is nothing wrong with you as you are. You’re a wonderful person. Sure, you’ve made some mistakes, but nobody’s perfect. God knows that. He made you from dust, after all. He doesn’t expect you to be flawless. And the things you’ve done wrong, you can make up for by simply doing good deeds. Eventually your good deeds will blot out your sins. You don’t need someone else to die for you. You can save yourself, David. That is the beauty of truth—it is all up to you. That is the purpose of religion, to give you a way to make up for your misdeeds.

“Your rabbi was right, David. You are a great writer, but you have never studied religion. How could it be that you, in such a short time, should have discovered a truth that your rabbi, who has devoted his entire life to the study of God, hasn’t seen? Thousands of years of sages and rabbinical scholars making it clear that Jesus could not have been the Messiah, and you, a novice, figure it out overnight? It’s crazy, David. That is
why
you have a rabbi—to lead you and guide you so you will not be deceived.

“David, it is time to go home now. Don’t go and throw away all you have on something that’s a lie. You have a great life. You are well respected; you have a beautiful family, a good job, and lots of friends. What more do you need? Moreover, your future is bright. You will write books, successful books. Other authors will quote you. I see a Pulitzer Prize coming your way. I can give you all this. You just need to stop pursuing this nonsense that something is wrong with you.”

He made so much sense. What had I been thinking? I almost threw my life, career, and family away. I didn’t want to lose it all—to be mocked behind my back as some religious fanatic. How horrible it would be to not be welcomed at our synagogue or the Jewish Community Center, where I not only exercise, but lecture every year. We would have had to move. I couldn’t imagine raising Hope and Ellie in an environment where they would surely suffer and be rejected—and not for anything they did—but for what I did. What kind of a father was I? How selfish I had been.

I was drifting now—into semi-consciousness, the feeling one gets in the final moments before anesthesia takes effect. Only I wasn’t falling asleep—I was enjoying this barely-awake, dreamlike state. It was wonderful. I didn’t even need to think, as thoughts were unconsciously being fed to me.

This beautiful creature had saved me. Embracing Yeshua—I mean, Jesus—would have ruined my life. I continued to drift in and out of consciousness, feeling released from all I had been through. My life was fine. I should be happy, not searching for hidden meaning for my existence.

And just like that a wave of guilt came over me as I had a vision of my father. He was weeping and asking, “David, how could you do this to us? How could you humiliate your mother and me like this?” The shame over what I had almost done was overwhelming. “Thank God your grandparents are not alive to see this! They lost everything in the Holocaust and you want to become a Christian?”

Next I saw my wife—she was hurt and angry. “I am not going to be married to a Jesus freak. Just leave!” she yelled as she pointed to the main door of our house where two packed suitcases had already been placed.

In the scene that followed, my rabbi and I were planning a funeral. “David, I told you this Jesus nonsense would kill your father!” Fear gripped my soul. I was coming out of this perfect sleep into a horrible panic.
My father is dead? I killed him?
My heart was racing.

I felt myself, once more, spinning into space.

I abruptly woke up. I was back in Starbucks and I was in a panic. Was that a dream? Had it all been a dream? My heart was racing, like coming out of a nightmare.
My father!
I thought,
Oh, thank God, he’s not dead. It was all a dream.
I quickly surveyed the coffee shop to see if anyone noticed me. What a strange morning this had been. I just came in to get some work done and somehow I must’ve dozed off—right in the middle of the café. But what a dream! It was so real, but here I was safe and sound back in the Starbu—
whoa!

Apparently it wasn’t a dream or I hadn’t yet woken up yet,
I thought, as I was sucked out of my body, like a vacuum was angrily pulling me back into the heavenlies. Once again I was back at the classroom, but the scene had changed dramatically. Ariel was no longer Ariel, the
professor
, but Ariel, the
warrior
. His muscles were bulging through his battle gear. He was massive and he was determined, and the situation was completely reversed. Ariel now had that same demon, who’d earlier had his foot on Ariel’s throat, on the floor and was returning the favor. Gasping in his mighty grip was my once-beautiful “angel,” only now exposed for who he really was, a revolting, hideous creature—a demon.

Other equally huge angels filled the room, each in possession of a cowering demon. Apparently reinforcements had arrived after I left.

Ariel looked directly at me. I felt so guilty for ever having doubted him. “David,” he said. His voice was the same and yet completely different. The teacher was gone—the general had arrived. “Did you not understand the meaning of the vision? These creatures are deceitful beyond anything you can imagine. They will disguise themselves as truth, but they remain what they are—hideous, conscienceless, fallen angels.” The demon attempted to break Ariel’s vice-like grip, but was only squeezed tighter for his trouble.

“In the vision, you saw the battle being waged over the souls of men. A man proclaimed the truth while others prayed, but it was only as each one made a decision to trust in Yeshua that freedom came. But make no mistake, David. There is a battle waging over
your
soul, too. The evil powers of darkness will lie and manipulate with guilt and fear to steer you away from eternal life. They are bent on evil and devoid of conscience. They want to take you with them to their final abode—the lake of fire (see Rev. 20:15). They will play on your emotions, pander to your ego, promise you whatever you want, and then reel you in. They are not unlike me in their desire to shape your mind—except I’m offering you life, while they seek your death.”

I spoke but no words came out. I cleared my throat and tried again. “But they said my wife would leave me, and Ariel, I saw my father’s funeral. The rabbi said that I killed him! I was told I would lose the respect of my colleagues and my friends would all turn on me.”