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Chapter 6 Plans for Rebellion
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Hezekiah struggled to build his country's power. No one knew when Sargon would arrive to punish the Jews for their religious revival. Life in Judah drifted into the ancient pattern of the centuries, except for the daily my maneuvers. The countryside turned various shades of green as farms and vineyards returned to full production. The city hummed with activity as each of its thousands of inhabitants conducted his personal business. Few people thought of the Assyrian overlords many days' journey north. A visitor in Jerusalem would scarcely have suspected that the city had prepared for a siege. The bazaar crawled with people, and the streets overflowed with produce that spilled into the walkways. Loaded pack animals trudged through the throngs, coming or going from one shop to another, beginning or ending a tedious journey—taking goods to sell in some distant city or bringing rare items for sale in Jerusalem. Farmers haggled over the prices of their produce. Competition was always keen, but a tolerant spirit dominated the marketplace. The Phoenician merchants, however, were somewhat less friendly. They had traveled long distances to peddle their wares for a profit. Some lived in the city and had servants to operate their caravans. But many smaller merchants traveled the routes themselves—over the mountains to the seaports like Tyre, Sidon, and Joppa. Specializing in imports, they sold costly gems, exquisite cloth, gold and silver jewelry, rare spices, fine-grained woods and exotic animals. As a group they bargained hard and less pleasantly than the native traders. Jerusalem's industrial sections vibrated with activity. Smiths hammered their anvils and stoked their hearths, fashioning sickles, plowshares, and kitchen utensils. Potters spun on their wheels water pots, cooking pots, large and small dishes, and even an occasional water clock for a wealthy noble. The weavers manufactured fine yard goods for garments, coarse material for sacks and tents, and beautifully decorated rugs and tapestries for the wealthy. The gold and silver artists tapped with there small mallets and carved with their precision tools, producing jewelry of fine craftsmanship for the rich. They also made ornately decorated vessels for the palace or the temple and various articles of usefulness and beauty for both home and foreign markets. Jerusalem's carpenters crafted furniture, plows, chairs, looms for the weavers, doors, gates for animal folds and city walls, bows and arrows, ornate staffs, and yokes for work animals. One could find anything made of wood in different stages of construction in one of the city's small carpenter shops. Women busied themselves with tending the children and the home. They baked the bread and fetched the water in large gallon-sized clay pots carried on their heads (sometimes they had to walk a mile to reach the water, and the return trip was all uphill). Also the women cared for the animals with the help of older children. The animals were kept in pens attached to the house. In the city, though, they more often stayed in stalls on the first floor of the house, while the family lived on the second floor. Elderly men often gathered at the main city gate or at the temple gate to act as judges. People brought their problems for the elders to settle. Disagreeing neighbors would bring witnesses so the judges could make reliable decisions. But mostly the men chatted about local news or questioned travelers about foreign events. Children filled much of their time playing games in the streets or courtyards. They enjoyed wrestling, boxing, and dancing to the beat of tambourines. In quieter moments they played games that resembled chess and cribbage.
The king led a busy life. Foreign ambassadors frequently sought his advice, for he had gained a reputation as a wise and understanding ruler. Occasionally another country asked for an alliance against Assyria, but this he refused to do. He had promised that while Ahaz lived he would send the annual tribute to Assyria and refrain from rebelling against her. The king daily held court to settle disagreements between his countrymen, referred to him by the city elders. Such matters were usually the most difficult cases beyond their ability to decide. Now in his early twenties, Hezekiah was tall and with quick eyes and a ready mind. Little escaped his attention. His servants and advisers believed he had almost superhuman understanding. He always seemed to know what was happening in his kingdom. His decisions usually pleased the people. They were not always popular, but most realized that his solutions were right. The Jews could have confidence in a man who trusted God and accepted the counsel of Isaiah. "We can never survive financially, "Hezekiah asserted to his treasurer," as long as we continue paying heavy tribute to Assyria. We've got to stop it somewhere. We must have our freedom!" "But you know what that means," the other man replied. "That means those murderous Assyrians will attack Judah." "I know." Hezekiah felt his hands were tied. "I promised my father to pay as long as he lives." And Hezekiah had kept his bargain. But he also prepared for the time when his father would no longer be around. "When that day comes, " he explained, "I can stop the payments." "If you plan to do that," the treasurer warned, "you'd better build stronger defenses. " "Yes, you're right." The king studied the pattern of the wall designs for a minute. "We must be prepared to withstand the most devastating army ever to assemble. And we can." Secretly Hezekiah conferred with his advisers to plan for Jerusalem's safety. "How can we guarantee the lives of our people during a siege by Assyria? "one of his generals asked. "How can Jerusalem survive the long months of an attack with no water source within the city walls? " "The general is right," Court Recorder Joah broke in. "The minute Assyrians appear over the nearest mountain, our people will have to depend on the cisterns. From that moment, our days will be numbered by the amount of water in those cisterns, and the Assyrians know it. Look what happened to Samaria." "'That's all true." Hezekiah stood, leaning on the table before him and supporting his weight with both fists. "But I have an idea. It may seem farfetched at first, but I think it may be within our reach." A smile crossed his face as the counselors leaned forward in suspense. "Why not tunnel water from Gihon to some point within the w—?" "Impossible!" Shebna, the steward, said. "Why . . . Gihon is in the valley. Everyone knows that water can't run uphill!" "That's true," Hezekiah persisted. "But the southern edge of Jerusalem near the king's gardens is lower than Gihon." His eyes narrowed in thought, and he stared out the window. "Why not tunnel the water to that spot? " Mouths dropped open around the dimly lit room. "That's on the other side of the mountain," Joah objected, "almost a thousand cubits away! And everyone knows that Jerusalem stands on solid limestone." Hezekiah unrolled a scroll. "I have presumed to draft some plans. It's not as impossible as it seems." To the counselors' amazement, the drawings showed every detail clearly. "Well, I'll be," Shebna conceded. "It really looks feasible." "It will be expensive and time-consuming," Joah put in, "but its advantages will outweigh the effort." The council agreed that working drawings should be made. The king commissioned the royal architects to begin the final plans at once. "Another matter needs to be settled," Hezekiah continued. "We must protect the roads that lead to Jerusalem against invaders. I think the highway most likely to be used by an advancing enemy is the one approaching from the southwest, by way of Lachish." On a map of Judah he stabbed his finger at the city of the royal retreat. "This little city commands a mountain pass, and I believe it is the key to Jerusalem's defense." "The royal retreat is there," one of the generals observed. "The city already has strong walls and towers." "That's right," Hezekiah agreed. "And they can be strengthened and made impregnable to attack." Just then a royal courier entered the room with an urgent dispatch for the king. Hezekiah listened to the whispered message and paled. "What is it, Your Majesty? " Joah asked. The servant left, and Hezekiah sat motionless. His eyes focused into space, a look of surprise on his face. Finally he found his voice. "My father . . . Ahaz . . . died last night in Lachish." He wet his dry lips; his color began to return. Drops of sweat beaded on his forehead. Without further word he hastened from the room. The counselors were too stunned for words. Long after the king had departed, they stared at each other, fearful of expressing their thoughts. Perhaps but days would pass before they broke the bands of Assyria. The plans they had drafted today would soon be done. And perhaps quicker than any of them wished, the Assyrian armies would test their defenses.
Hezekiah hurried to his mother's quarters, questions plaguing his mind. "Has she heard?" he wondered. "Will she mourn? She was my father's main wife, yet she chose to stay with me in Jerusalem rather than be with him. Perhaps she simply couldn't bear to see his continual degeneration." Abijah had already learned the news, but instead of weeping, she simply sat gazing out the window. Quietly the two reviewed the older man's last years. "Ahaz grew weaker after he left Jerusalem," she said. "He was in his early forties when be died, and yet be looked much older." She paused for a time. "He continued his idolatry in spite of your decree outlawing pagan worship in Judah." "I thought the people destroyed every pagan altar!" Hezekiah replied in surprise. "They did," his mother answered. "But Ahaz built a secret altar near Lachish. Idolatry and intemperance weakened his body and mind. He died of a disease common to old age." Few attended the royal funeral. Hezekiah and his mother were there, as well as Ahaz's other wives and concubines. A few of Ahaz's trusted servants also came, plus some children and old men who watched out of curiosity. But few Jews wanted to remember the man who had again led the nation into apostasy. To the average man, Ahaz passed unmourned. Later in the day, as Hezekiah and Abijah sat alone in her house, she wept. "I don't miss him at all," she sobbed. "But I remember how strong and good he was when I married him, and how much I loved him then." She wiped the tears from her reddened eyes. "I remember how he drifted away from the Lord, from his people . . . and from me. He died yesterday," she said, "but we lost him years ago when he rebelled against Yahweh." Neither mother nor son mentioned the terrifying scene in the Kidron Valley years before. But neither could prevent the memory from drawing a sword afresh through the heart. Finally Abijah broke the silence. "The thing that haunts me is his wasted life. He could have been such a strong and good king if only he had been faithful." She gazed at her handsome son for a moment, her eyes still moist from weeping. A smile caressed the corners of her lips. Hezekiah studied his mother. She was nearly forty, and still she was beautiful. Life had been terrible for her. He loved her far more than he realized. Again her voice ended the stillness of the evening calm. "My life has been hard because of my husband's sins. But how glad I am that my son has not followed in his father's steps!" Tears flowed again—not now those of sorrow but of joy. "I will forget that I was ever the wife of Ahaz. Now I shall consider myself the mother of good king Hezekiah." The king took his mother into his arms. Tears ran into his beard, and his voice cracked as he spoke. "By the grace of Yahweh, I will never disappoint you." "By His grace, you won't, . . . my son." |