Chapter 14

A Time for Tears

For the first time in months the Jews could move about without danger from marauding soldiers. Hezekiah dispatched scouts to observe the Assyrian retreat. They returned within hours reporting, "The enemy has crossed the border. They seem in haste to get somewhere. We asked some shepherds if they had heard anything,"

"What did they say?" the king asked eagerly,

"They say that Elam has attacked Assyria."

The chaos they saw everywhere saddened the refugees as they left Jerusalem for their homes. Every village lay in shambles. The enemy had either harvested or burned those fields ready for harvest. The invaders had taken everything of value to Assyria or destroyed it.

The most heartbreaking thing of all was the utter lack of human life. Most all of their friends and families outside the Jerusalem wall were gone. Nearly every living thing had been either killed or deported.

In every village travelers could see the few haggard survivors sifting through the ruins of their former homes. Others wandered aimlessly or sat on stones that had been door mantles or leaned in exhaustion against nearby rocks, staring into space. Occasionally an individual, a small family, or a child who had managed to escape by hiding in a cave, returned to the ruined village. The cruelty they had witnessed was unimaginable. From their caves they had watched their friends murdered or taken captive.

The worst part was burying all the bodies, The warring Assyrians had no scruples about the body. When someone died, he simply lay where he had fallen. They abandoned even their own soldiers to rot. Bodies had badly decomposed.

Hezekiah no longer feared for his kingdom, but now he agonized over his personal loss. Save for Hephzibah and Manasseh, he had sent all his family to Lachish. Now Lachish was no more, and his family had disappeared. "Where are my wives and children?" he asked everyone. But no one seemed to know.

A group of soldiers returned from Lachish with their report. Hezekiahs anxiety radiated from every fiber of his being. "Have you found any trace of my wives or children?" The men had witnessed scenes that no human could forget—a city in ruins, filled with corpses. When they hesitated too long in answering, he demanded irritably. "What did you find?"

"Your Majesty," the captain replied slowly, we searched through the ruins, as you asked. We found the remains of the royal retreat. There were bodies of Assyrian and Jewish soldiers everywhere."

"My family!" the king shouted. ''Did you find my family?"

"No." The soldier almost choked. "We found no trace that any of them died in or around the city. We must assume they were taken captive."

Exhausted, the king sank back. Filled with guilt and bitterness, he grieved his loss. Finally he managed to speak. "Thank you for your work. You may go."

Retiring to his chambers, he busied himself with matters of state, hoping to ease his mind. But it was impossible. Still he had been there only a few minutes when Shebna's secretary entered.

"Ah. Eliakim.." Hezekiah managed to smile. He had always felt warm toward this man. The king understood why people referred to him as their father—not because of his age, for the man was still relatively young. But Eliakim treated everyone graciously. "And what," asked the king. "can I do for you today?"

Eliakim bowed in respect. "To be in your presence is all that I could desire."

Hezekiah had heard the insincere phrase thousands of times, but Eliakim meant every word. The king liked him. "You may stay as long as you like, my friend." Hezekiah seldom used that word. "But you must have some reason for coming today." "Yes, Your Majesty." Eliakim paused. "I have heard that you desire to know the fate of your family."

"Do you know anything about them,?" Hezekiah tensed.

"Yes," the secretary hesitated, "but I thought you knew."

"Knew!" the king exploded. "I wish I knew! I've searched for someone to give me even a drop of information." Embarrassed at having lashed out at so close a friend, Hezekiah calmed down. "I just never thought of asking you. Tell me, Eliakim . . . what has happened to them?"

Eliakim's lip trembled, and he glanced away from his masters eyes. "They are in Nineveh," he whispered. "Sennacherib will put them into his harem."

The horror etched on the kings features frightened Eliakim.. The king buried his head in his hands. To him such captivity was worse than death. For nearly an hour he sobbed, with Eliakim's hand on the royal shoulder to comfort him.. Finally Hezekiah managed to ask, "Where did you learn this?"

"Sennacherib told us during our second visit."

"Your second visit? That was weeks ago. Why didn't you say something before this?"

"I thought Shebna briefed you on our conference with the Assyrian."

"He did." Hezekiahs face grew hard. "But he didn't say a word about my family!"

A tension-filled silence settled over the chamber. Hezekiah mentally reviewed his doubts about the steward: Shebna's preoccupation with his tomb; his chariot, designed to outrival the royal one; his shady dealings. And now his seemingly deliberate suppression of knowledge regarding the king's family. It was too much. "I'm afraid Shebna has robbed his own tomb," the king announced. "I shall ask him to resign. And you, Eliakim . . ." A smile broke over his face. "You shall be my new steward."

"Me? Why, I'm only a scribe! Joah would do far better than."

"No, Eliakim. I can think of no one who would do better." Instantly Hezekiah realized that he had embarrassed the gentle man. "Now say nothing about this. I'll see to it."

The scenes that followed were not pretty. Shebna—rebuked, angered, embarrassed, embittered—lashed out at the king, denying the facts. But he could not change Hezekiah's mind and departed the palace a lowly scribe assigned to work for his former secretary.

Sennacherib had been gone only a few weeks when envoys came to Hezekiah from Babylon. The men were ambassadors of Merodach-baladan, the king of Babylon. Greeting Hezekiah in his own language, they brought the best wishes of Merodach-baladan and congratulated the king on his recovery from the recent illness. Perhaps, they said, the king could explain to them, for the benefit of their leader, how the sun came to travel ten degrees backward through the sky?

"Rumors in Babylon say that Yahweh caused the sun to return as a sign that you would be healed." The ambassadors felt as though they were on the verge of a great discovery.

"Can Yahweh be greater than the gods of Babylon?" Their interest was unmistakable, though they feared to blaspheme their own deities.

"Nebo—the sun—has never been known to retreat," they continued. "He always advances from east to west. But now he has retreated." A dramatic pause electrified the throne room. "Did Yahweh cause our god to retreat? Tell us. We must report to Merodach-baladan."

The Jewish king marveled that Babylon would send ambassadors to Judah. Sennacherib had all but destroyed his country after Hezekiah's supposed Palestinian friends abandoned him. But Babylon asked him about his God! The thought flattered Hezekiah, but he could think of nothing to say to them..

Then something snapped within Hezekiah's mind. Perhaps he desired an alliance with Babylon to frustrate any future attack from Assyria. For, instead of explaining Yahweh's greatness in order to win converts to the true God, he gave them a tour of Jerusalem.

The taxes to Sennacherib had drained the silver and gold from the palace and temple treasuries, but it had not touched the private fortunes of the wealthy merchants or the crown jewels and artworks of the palace. Hezekiah's recent taxes had already brought revenues into his treasury for sending on to Assyria. Jerusalem's ornate buildings surpassed those of many other cities. Babylon was proverbial for its splendor, but the beauty and wealth they saw impressed the ambassadors.

"It's a marvel that these riches still exist," one of them remarked as they entered their guest suite. "Sennacherib spent twelve months in Palestine removing every valuable object."

"That's true," another returned. "But did you notice the artistic talents the Jews have?" He looked in memory at one of the many objects he had seen that day. "We have little in Babylon, or in Elam, to compare with it."

"You're right. If we could only have these Jewish artists in our country . . ." He stopped, but his implications were obvious to his friends.

Hezekiah had hoped to impress the ambassadors with the strength and riches of Jerusalem.. Maybe, he reasoned, Merodach-baladan would ally with him. The Babylonian ruler would not be like those cowards in Palestine. The king's eyes narrowed as he worked through his plan. If he had support like that in the east, he could also accomplish what Yahweh had done. He smiled to himself. Then he could rebel against Assyria and . . . and when Sennacherib came he could call on Babylon for help. Merodach-baladan would then march on Nineveh, and Sennacherib would leave Judah alone.

Hezekiah paced in his private chambers. Perhaps it might even be possible to work from both sides to destroy Assyria. The king grinned at his plan.

As a result, he showed his guests more wealth and ornaments until they had seen all. They reviewed his armies and toured his food and weapons storehouses, his defense systems, and his water tunnel. He treated them to the best food and wine and entertained them with Jerusalem's finest dancers and musicians. When he had done his best, he sent them off with gracious greetings for their king.

When the Babylonian envoys had arrived in Jerusalem, they had asked about the miracle of Hezekiah's healing and the phenomenon of the retreating sun. They had longed to know of Yahweh. But they learned nothing of Him. Instead, they left with the dazzle of riches in their eyes. They carried no answer at all to the riddle of the healing or of the sundial. Their only message for Merodach-baladan was, "If we could only have Judah's wealth, our country would far surpass any nation in the world."

Hezekiah still congratulated himself on the way he treated his guests when Isaiah entered his chambers without introduction. Isaiah had often done that, and the king thought nothing of it. With an air of indifference, the prophet asked, "Who were those men, and what did they say?"

"They were ambassadors from Babylon. Didn't you know that?"

"What did they see in your house, Hezekiah?" The old man's voice had an ominous ring.

Suddenly Hezekiah felt somewhat uneasy. "Why . . . everything," he answered. "I showed them all my riches my armies, my defenses. There is nothing among my treasures I didn't reveal."

The king's face paled as he realized what he had done. He had never thought that their king would covet such things for himself. With horror written on his face, he dropped into a chair.

Isaiah dreaded the message he must give, knowing it would hurt, but he did not refrain. Stepping to the side of the king, he placed his hand on the royal shoulder. "Hear the word of Yahweh," he began and then hesitated. Hezekiah motioned for him to continue. "The days will come when everything in your house will be carried to Babylon. Nothing shall be left, says Yahweh."

Although Isaiah paused, the king knew that he hadn't finished. "What else has God said?" he whispered.

"They shall take away your descendants to be slaves in the palace of the king of Babylon."

Terror seized Hezekiah. He had spent his life leading his people back to Yahweh so they could have freedom from their enemies. But now he had betrayed them. "I have sinned!" he cried, sweat beading on his brow. His head sank into his hands, and he sobbed, a heartbroken man. "How can Yahweh forgive me for betraying Him and His people?"

Isaiah remained while Hezekiah mourned his sin, begging Yahweh for forgiveness and mercy. At last he regained his composure and realized that his friend still waited by his side. The king pleaded for his friend to intercede in his behalf.

Gazing out the window as though lost in thought, Isaiah remained silent. Then, under the inspiration of God's Holy Spirit, he said, "You have repented with tears, Hezekiah. The judgment will not come during your life. Jerusalem and all of Judah will be taken by the king of Babylon. But you will not see it happen."

The king quietly thanked him for his comfort. He longed to recall his mindless acts, but sadly, that could not be. He was thankful that he would not see the outcome of his deed, but his heart grieved that he had cursed future generations.

"Sin is always like that," he mused aloud. "Every sin brings trouble—not only upon ourselves but upon innocent people who have had nothing to do with it."

"That's true," Isaiah commented.

"Thanks be to Yahweh." The king's eyes still melted into pools of tears. "'The Lord is merciful and gracious.'"

The prophet recognized the words of the psalm and joined in unison with his royal friend. "'He will not . . . keep his anger for ever.'"

Chapter 15