CHAPTER 8

Almost Persuaded

"Swear in Yahweh's name," demanded Nebuchadnezzar. "Then I know you'll be loyal to me."

Before returning home the Jewish king bowed before Babylon's golden throne to assure the great king of his abiding loyalty. Nebuchadnezzar knew of Daniel's fidelity to the God of heaven, and he reasoned that Zedekiah would also respect an oath in the holy name.

But religion meant nothing to Judah's monarch, for to him it merely provided him a means by which to advance his political position. So he saw no conflict between an oath in Yahweh's name and his obeisance to a golden image.

In fact, he had chafed, when three Jewish exiles refused to bow before the huge idol, for such an act caused him public embarrassment. Their un-reasoning dedication to Yahweh made no sense to him, and he had been as surprised as anyone by their miraculous escape.

He had become even more galled over Nebuchadnezzar's insistence that he add a new member to his cabinet. "This new advisor," ordered Nebuchadnezzar, "shall be the prophet—Jeremiah. Listen to that man, Zedekiah. He can save you a lot of trouble."

Many Jewish captives settled in a small town on the Chebar River, southwest of Babylon. This river—an irrigation canal—ran more than a hundred miles between Babylon and Erech. At first the Jews had been slaves, working the land around the small farming community. But Babylonian policy allowed slaves to earn their freedom, and in time most became free.

They worked hard and often went without things others considered necessities in order to improve their lot. In time they built houses, bought small plots for gardens, or set up their own private businesses. Before many years had passed, most reached an economic level equal to—and some-times exceeding—their Babylonian neighbors.

In spite of prosperity they became discouraged. Feeling that God had forsaken them, some broke with traditional ways, mingled with the Babylonians, and intermarried. Many abandoned their Jewish heritage altogether.

Ezekiel and other leaders sought to prevent this and to preserve their identity. They taught faithful Sabbath observance, circumcised their male infants, and encouraged people to practice the traditions of the fathers.

In spite of this, problems developed. Many grew tired of the drab flatness of Mesopotamia, and became homesick for the hills of Judah. Rumors of an early return plagued the settlement, and frustrated young people sometimes clashed with the Babylonian home guard police force.

News of Hananiah's predictions in Jerusalem stirred up old hatreds and nursed discontent. Two local leaders named Ahab and Zedekiah promoted these false prophecies, zealous to lead the Jews back home. They became involved in numerous adulterous affairs, but their talk of immanent return to Judah made them popular, and many overlooked their behavior while accepting their heartening message.

While King Zedekiah stayed in Babylon his scribe Seraiah visited the Jewish settlement on the Chebar. He gathered the rabbinical leaders on the riverbank, together with a small crowd, and read Jeremiah's scroll—against the vigorous objections of the false prophets.

"To the Jews in Babylon:" he read. "Build homes, raise families, establish businesses, plant vineyards, because most of you will spend the rest of your lives there. Don't listen to those who say the captivity will end soon, for such lies will only bring you trouble."

Seraiah tied the scroll to a large rock and threw it into the river, as Jeremiah had instructed. Then he kissed Ezekiel and other friendly leaders good-bye, and rejoined King Zedekiah in Babylon.

"Daniel!" cried Mishael as he burst into the room. "Those two false prophets of Chebar—Ahab and Zedekiah—have been executed— Roasted over a fire!"

"Oh, no!" Daniel had returned from his special mission, and had been rejoicing with Hananiah and Azariah over their deliverance from the fiery furnace. Tears welled up in his eyes. "They could have been such a blessing to our people."

"Their poor families," sighed Hananiah. He remembered that Babylonians often executed entire families for the father's crimes.

"They didn't kill the families this time," answered Mishael. "Only the false prophets."

"If they had only listened to Jeremiah's letter," groaned Azariah. "He told them that the captivity would last for 70 years. And yet they insisted that the Jews would go home in two years."

"They were no doubt led astray by that false prophet Hananiah," said Mishael. "Even though he died—just like Jeremiah predicted—yet many people believed him. I guess it's because he preached what they wanted to hear."

"And it created havoc among our people here," added Daniel. "I received several reports of how they refused to work or cooperate with the authorities. In some places people were killed—and many injured."

"All because of the false testimony of two self-appointed prophets," sighed Azariah.

"Too bad," said Hananiah. "But things should become quieter now that they've been punished."

Daniel put a hand on his friend's arm. "Let's hope and pray that you're right."

When King Zedekiah and his escort returned to Jerusalem they found at the palace a gathering of ambassadors from several Palestinian nations.

"We despise the oppression of Babylon," announced an envoy from Edom, bowing to show his respect for the Jewish king. "We far prefer that Egypt coordinate our affairs."

"Yes," joined in the Ammonite ambassador. "Pharaoh taxes us, but he doesn't drag our people to Egypt."

"He does if we refuse to pay our taxes." chided the Moabite, spoiling for an argument with his traditional enemy.

"True," grunted the Ammonite, side-stepping the bate. "But not from general policy—like Nebuchadnezzar. If we would all unite with Egypt, I believe Babylon would leave us alone."

"That's right," agreed the delegate from Tyre, pointing his finger at the former speaker. "And if you'll remember, Egypt mauled Babylon several times. If we had only supported her then, she might have destroyed the Mesopotamian lion altogether."

"You embarrass me." Zedekiah held up his hands, trying to stop them. "I've just returned from Babylon. I took an oath to remain loyal to Nebuchadnezzar."

"So what!" laughed the Sidonian ambassador. "You needn't fear to break your word. We'll all protect each other."

"I wish I could believe that," Zedekiah scowled, "but it does sound good." The Jewish king often wavered between opposite opinions, never able to make up his mind for himself. In fact, he had at times allowed one group of advisors to draft official policies, while permitting another clique to revise them. Friends and enemies alike pushed him this way and that, despising him, using him—and yet fearing to trust his word.

"Our alliance will work," smiled the Edomite, seeking to bury old hatreds. "Pharaoh has promised to protect us—with his full army, if need be. We have nothing to fear."

At that precise moment Jeremiah entered the room, and began giving hand-made wooden objects to the ambassadors. At first the men thought they were gifts from Zedekiah, but one look at his furious face banished that idea.

"These are yokes, gentlemen." Jeremiah smiled as he adjusted one worn around his own neck so it rode at the proper angle. "Wear them like I'm wearing mine. Please accept these as gifts from Yahweh to your kings." He laid one in Zedekiah's lap. "Yahweh says: 'I made the earth, the sea, the heavens and every beast in them. I have the power to do whatever I wish with all these things, and to give them to whomever I choose.

"'I have given the earth and everyone on it to Nebuchadnezzar and his successors. All nations will serve him. Someday I will destroy Babylon, but until then, every nation who refuses to submit to her yoke will die by sword, famine, and pestilence. Yet those who wear Babylon's yoke will remain in their own lands.

"'Do not listen to anyone who tells you to resist, for I have spoken,' says Yahweh, 'and I will cause it to happen.'"

"These will make interesting souvenirs," said the Ammonite after Jeremiah left the room. "But I have no intention of serving Babylon."

"Nor do I," agreed Zedekiah as he tossed his yoke into a corner.

"Gentlemen," announced the Moabite as he broke the yoke over his knee. "Let us form an alliance against Babylon."

When news of Zedekiah's rebellion reached Nebuchadnezzar he flew into a rage. "That Jewish swine," he shouted as his servants backed away. "Less than a year since he promised me— In the name of Yahweh, his God— He vowed he would serve me all the days of his life. Doesn't his word—or his God—mean anything to him?"

The king strutted in the outer courtyard for more than an hour. He stopped at times as if to allow thoughts to unravel themselves, but then resumed his orbit, as though he considered the idea of no merit.

"I don't understand those Jews," moaned Nebuchadnezzar to his chamberlain who had retired to a corner. "Belteshazzar and his friends— Above reproach. What men! Would that I had the heart-peace they have— The surety that I pleased my god."

The king scratched the side of his face. Streaks of gray highlighted his curly black beard, and worry-lines creased his forehead. He had ruled the world's greatest kingdom for fifteen years, built scores of beautiful and costly buildings, and enlarged the city until it spread over 12-square-miles. His palace out-sized any on earth, his hanging gardens had become a "wonder of the world".

And yet Judah had become a recurring nightmare. He had exerted every effort to maintain peace—within the embrace of Babylon. He needed them, their strategic location, their craftsmen, their taxes.

"Ezekiel and Jeremiah, the prophets— One here and one in Jerusalem?— What preachers! What courage to stand up against their own people— I've heard reports of their sermons— Sound much like our Belteshazzar."

He ran his fingers through his hair, considering great Jews he'd known. "At times I've been impressed by Belteshazzar and his friends—Wanted to worship their God. What I wouldn't give to have peace and courage like they have! What a powerful God— Saved them from fire!

"But—" The king examined the patterns on the opposite wall, awe melted into anger. "But Jehoiakim and Zedekiah— Those scoundrels worshiped the same God— Did nothing for them. They refused to honor their oaths— Made in their God's name!"

"And those so-called prophets— What's their names?"

The Chamberlain had come out of his corner. "I believe you speak of Hananiah of Jerusalem, and Ahab and Zedekiah of the Chebar colony, my lord."

"Yes, yes. Prophets! Do they also speak for the Jewish God? They've only caused us trouble."

Nebuchadnezzar shook his head. "What kind of God produces opposite personalities— Among those who serve Him?"

The chamberlain, accustomed to the king's lectures, smiled and nodded his head as the king continued.

"Now our gods— Good points and bad points. We expect our people will have good points and bad points too. But this Jewish God— Only a good side— Belteshazzar and Jeremiah— Only good too— But the others?"

The king sat down on his throne and put his head in his hands. "I'm not sure I like that kind of god. I prefer ours— Always seem angry— Demand impossible things— But at least we know where we stand."

He stroked his beard. "They say 'you know a god by the people who serve him.' If all Jews were like Belteshazzar and Jeremiah, I'd gladly serve their God. But— Oh, I don't know."

CHAPTER 9