Authors: D. Brian Shafer
“The Lord’s Presence left that hollow sanctuary years ago,” said Lucifer. “We are merely expediting the symbol. Once the temple is gone the faith will follow. All former covenant with the Lord shall be obliterated. The exiles will either become alien residents and disappear into the history of other nations, or they shall be pressed into service by the king, and thus lose their position of authority. Either way, the nation will cease and the threat to us will be gone.”
“And then?” asked Tinius.
“And then we will negotiate this war to an agreeable close,” said Lucifer.
Nebuchadnezzar took the golden censer and placed it before the image of Marduk. With him was the high priest of the temple, who chanted the necessary oblations that would conjure the god. Bending down on his knees and touching the floor with his head, Nebuchadnezzar began to cry out to the god who had thus far guided him into so many great victories.
“Great Marduk,” he began, “dread god of Sumer and Babylon, chief ruler and exalted deity from on high, I beg you to come into my unworthy presence and give me the wisdom I need to deal with your enemies…”
Pellecus had remained upon the image. Near him stood Lucifer and Tinius, watching the episode in amusement.
“Well, he’s waiting,” said Lucifer. “Lead this fool.”
“Nebuchadnezzar.”
The king looked at the high priest, wondering if he had spoken, and if not, whether he had heard the voice. The high priest was lost in his low chanting and didn’t even realize the king was looking at him.
“Nebuchadnezzar, hear me…”
“Yes my lord,” said the king, barely able to get the words out of his mouth.
“You seek from me direction and I have spoken to you clearly…”
“The eagle, my lord?” he asked.
“The rebellion,”
came the answer.
“You have allowed your enemies to become an offense to me. They have insulted the gods of Babylon. They have trusted their god to deliver them in their temple. They are an offense and therefore you must deal with them harshly lest your kingdom be taken from you…”
“Yes, lord,” said Nebuchadnezzar. “I will see to it at once.”
“You must see to it that not one stone is left of the temple in Jerusalem,” Pellecus said, glancing at Lucifer’s nodding approval. “You must tear down the walls so that it shall never again be an offense to Chaldea. And you must humble yourself for allowing such offense to happen by declaring a fast to my name.”
“That’s a bit much, isn’t it?” said Lucifer, smiling.
Pellecus looked back. “I was going to have him build another temple but I thought it might distract his work in Jerusalem!” He looked at Lucifer and Tinius. “And now the finish…”
Pellecus touched the censer and made it flare up into a smoky greenish light that filled the shrine. The high priest opened his eyes, and together the king and the priest saw in the strange fog the figure of a man-beast—who looked like the image of Marduk.
“
Go now!
” the figure ordered. “
And leave nothing undone!
”
“As you command, O lord,” said Nebuchadnezzar, who hurriedly left the room. The high priest was still peering into the smoky haze, wondering why the god had never appeared to him so dramatically.
“My prince, I give you Solomon’s temple,” said Pellecus proudly.
“You mean what is left of it,” said Lucifer.
Chronicles of the Host
Jerusalem, Jerusalem
The unthinkable did in fact happen—Nebuchadnezzar came into Jerusalem for the third time. The Host watched in horror and shame as piece by piece, stone by stone, the temple of Solomon was dismantled, its holy emblems taken to Babylon, and its altars profaned by lovers of Marduk.
How could this be, we asked? Howling numbers of the enemy gloated in the city’s despair, feeling closer to winning the war than they ever had. The king and the remaining nobles and priests were put in chains and led off into ignominious exile. We could only hope that somewhere in the midst of the people who were led off in darkness was the Seed who would one day bring them back into the light….
Babylon, 585 B.C.
The assignment given to Ashpenaz was one that he neither relished nor approved of. He thought it a mistake to try to train up aliens in the ways of Chaldea—especially these hardheaded Jews! But he figured that in time the king would see the error of his ways and dispose of them in more practical, if not brutal, ways.
He entered the large receiving room that was covered in deep azure tiles with the famous Babylonian lion in relief everywhere. Hundreds of young men of the best families of Judah awaited him. They were fine looking young men, dressed in simple Babylonian tunics and standing at attention as if this were a military inspection. He looked them over, then stood upon a platform to address them.
“I am Ashpenaz,” he began, “the king’s chief administrator. You have been selected by our great king as the best of your nation. You shall be schooled in the wisdom of Babylon, taught its language and history, schooled in its culture, taught our literature. In time, some of you shall enter into the king’s service. You will serve him.”
Some of the men began to relax, looking about at each other. One gave a scornful look to his friend who had predicted that they all were about to be executed.
“You will eat the same food as the king eats and have the benefit of living in and around the royal palace. You shall receive special treatment and will be trained for three years. After that you will be assigned permanently. Follow the stewards, receive your new names, and begin your training.
“New names?” a few people muttered.
“And,” Ashpenaz added with a hint of menace, “serve the king well.”
“I was sure we were to be executed,” said a young man, as they left the hall. “Instead, we are to serve in the greatest empire in the world!”
“And eat at the king’s table,” said another.
“Think of it, Daniel,” said a young man named Joseph. “Our families will be well taken care of!”
“Will they?” asked Daniel, a young man who as a child had been carried to Babylon a few years before the most recent destruction. “Are they taking care of us—or are they buying us?”
“What difference?” asked Joseph, also relieved that they were to be spared. “This is Babylon. The greatest city in the world. Lead city in the arts and sciences. It’s massive. Why, you can even ride a four-horse chariot on top of the city walls, they are so thick!”
“Jerusalem had walls,” said Daniel in an almost melancholy tone. “Once.”
“Leave Daniel alone, Joseph,” said Anath. “He will never become a servant of the king of Babylon. His kind can only cause us more grief. Best stay away from him.”
The young men pulled away from Daniel lest they be associated with him by some of Ashpenaz’s agents. Daniel watched as his friends, many of whom he had grown up with in Judah, turned away from him and regrouped on the other side of the room.
“Don’t mind them, Daniel,” came a voice. It was Hananiah. With him were Mishael and Azariah. The three were inseparable friends and had lately befriended Daniel, sharing his special love for the Lord God of Judah.
“I don’t care about them, Hananiah,” said Daniel, as they were ordered to disrobe and put on the new uniforms that designated them as wards of the king. “It is Jerusalem that I am thinking about. Do you suppose it is true? The temple, I mean?”
“That is what the new arrivals are saying, Daniel,” said Azariah. “They were taking it down stone by stone. The walls too are being broken in places.”
“Daniel!”
“Yes, sir,” Daniel responded.
The steward, an older man who didn’t enjoy being saddled with these young Jews, handed Daniel his new clothing. He looked at the writing on the ledger.
“Your new name is Belteshazzar,” he said gruffly.
“Belteshazzar? What does it mean?” asked Daniel.
“Belteshazzar! It means ‘may the god Bel protect you,’ ” said the man.
The boys laughed at Daniel’s new name. They stopped laughing when they all received their names: Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah became Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Each name evoked the name of a Babylonian god, imploring his protection.
“We are in a profane land,” said Daniel, after the man showed them to their rooms in the palace. “We have been given profane names. We are in the land of our enemies, not our benefactors. And now we must trust the Lord God of our fathers to help us through this difficult time.” He placed his hand in the middle of the group and added, “We must pledge that we shall never compromise and bow our knee to this devil god they worship—this Marduk!”
The three men looked at Daniel and at each other. Ashpenaz seemed quite definite that they were expected to serve the king with utmost loyalty. Some of the Jews seemed ready to give in completely. Others were troubled by the thought of serving a foreign god in a foreign land. And yet all they knew was now destroyed. And had not their father Abraham begun his journey from Ur in this very land? Perhaps they were only returning to the true land of their fathers….
“Agreed,” said Hanaiah, who was now called Shadrach. They all took hold of Daniel’s hand in pledge. “We will never compromise, though it cost us everything.”
“Except our names,” said Abednego resignedly.
Ashpenaz had been thinking about his mission to subvert the Jews by lulling them into the king’s guardianship. How often in his own political career had he seen men coerced into compromise by offers of something better, something brighter, something safer. And now he was in charge of seeing these youths from a conquered land brought into service of the greatest empire in the world.
Such irony,
he thought.
Yet among these men who seemed overly eager to cater to their conquerors, there were a few exceptions who still held on to their faith. Even though the house of their God had been destroyed; even though their city had been ravaged; even though they had been taken captive to a strange land they remained true, preferring their own faith to the king’s luxurious fare! Of all those who withstood the king’s offer of food, drink, and accommodation, the most headstrong of the lot was Belteshazzar, formerly known as Daniel.