Copyright © 2017 by Alison M. Tomlinson
[About 701 BC. The Assyrians lay siege to Jerusalem.]
“If you’re wrong, everybody in Jerusalem is about to die.”
“I’m not wrong.”
“OK. You’re not wrong.”
“Come on, Harun, you can do better than that. I told you. Play devil’s advocate. Spar with me. Force me to argue my position one more time.”
“You’re doubting?”
There was a moment’s hesitation before King Hezekiah answered. “No. I just want to keep the situation clear in my mind.”
“Then talk to your statesmen, your advisors.”
“I’ve talked to them until I’m blue in the face. I want to talk friend to friend, not king to sycophant. I’m standing here in sackcloth, not the royal robes. I’m waiting to hear the fate of the hundreds of thousands who look to me to rule them. Sleep is impossible, and I want to talk. Humour me.” Hezekiah looked out of the palace window into the near darkness. Besieged Jerusalem lay sprawled before him, a palpable mist of fear hovering over the streets and houses. “Imagine you’re my greatest enemy. What would you say to me? Let me argue my case.”
“You know what your enemy says. Sennacherib made his message very clear. You’re a fool to trust the LORD. The Assyrians are the most brutal army on the face of the earth. They have already destroyed Hamath, Arpad, Sepharvaim, Hena, Ivah. No other god has withstood them and neither will ours.”
Hezekiah jumped to his feet, fierce anger distorting his face. He began storming around the room. “There are no other gods, only lumps of stone and wood. How dare those heathen vipers defy the living God?”
“Hey! You’re asking me to play devil’s advocate so you can shout and rant and rave at me?”
Hezekiah stopped, sighed, and ran his hands over his hair and beard, breathing deeply. “You’re right. I’m being unreasonable.” He returned to his seat. “Very well. Let’s talk as two rational beings. When Sennacherib talks of gods, he talks of idols. He knows nothing of the one true God.”
“His is a majority opinion. There are plenty among your own people who think you’ve gone too far. For hundreds of years, since the reign of your father David, the people of Judah were happy burning incense to the LORD in the high places. They didn’t think the Passover was important. Why have you changed everything?”
Hezekiah sighed once more.
Harun continued, “I know you’ve answered that a million times, but you asked me to force you to argue your case, and how we worship the LORD is at the very centre of the issue here.”
“Indeed it is. The LORD gave us commandments through Moses. Thou shalt have no other gods before me.”
“Moses also gave us the brazen serpent, but you destroyed it.”
Once more Hezekiah stood and began to pace, but this time he did so thoughtfully. “God gave the brazen serpent to save the Israelites. It was an act of mercy. The Israelites were deservedly dying from the bites of the fiery serpents. Those who looked on the brazen serpent were saved.”
“We all know the story.”
“The brazen serpent was a gift from God, but it was never intended to be worshipped. The Israelites turned it into a forbidden graven image and burned incense to it. It became an idol. It had to be destroyed.”
“You’re the first king in nearly a thousand years to see it that way. What makes you think you’re right and everybody else is wrong?”
Hezekiah’s chest swelled as he assumed the stance of a warrior. He raised his voice. “While I am king, I will tolerate no idolatry regardless of where it comes from. We should look to the LORD as our healer, not a snake on a pole. And as Isaiah has prophesied, the one whom God will send will bring true healing. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.”
“You trust Isaiah’s words implicitly.”
“Yes, and he says not to be afraid of the king of Assyria. The scoundrel will turn tail and flee.”
“How is that possible? Why would he flee? He has us surrounded. We are bedraggled rats in a cage, at his mercy.”
“It isn’t possible. Neither was turning back the sun dial by ten degrees, but the LORD did it as Isaiah prophesied.”
“So God used a lump of figs to snatch you from the jaws of death, and now he’s left you facing impossible odds.”
“No, you’re wrong.” Hezekiah sat down, leaned forward in his seat, and held his friend’s gaze. “Let me explain something to you. There is nothing more precious to a man than his own flesh and blood, his strength and power. When it fails, he comes to appreciate that every breath he takes is granted by God. And when he is allotted fifteen more years, he grasps life as he has never done before . . .,” (he raised a clenched fist) “. . . living every moment with purpose. And there is only one purpose on earth—to love, serve and trust the living God.”
There was a pause.
Harun smiled weakly. “What can I say? How can I argue with that?”
* * * * * * * *
Darkness fell. The city slept fitfully. Harun dozed in his chair, but Hezekiah stood by the window, watching and waiting. Surely, news would come soon. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like days. Finally, as the first glimmers of light appeared on the horizon, running footsteps approached the door.
Harun jerked awake as Hezekiah turned towards the door. His chief advisor entered the room, bowed, and said, “My Lord—“
“What is it? Just tell me.”
“A runner is approaching the gate. He looks near exhaustion. We assume he’s come a long way and he’s bringing news of the Assyrians.”
“Have water ready for him as soon as he enters the gate then bring him directly to me.”
“Yes, my Lord.” The advisor bowed out of the room.
Harun stood and paced the room to wake himself up. “The moment of truth. We will soon know. If, of course, the poor man can speak by the time he gets here.”
“The water will revive him.”
“I must confess, that now seems a stroke of genius on your part though it looked like insanity at the time.”
Hezekiah permitted himself the trace of a smile. “Why should the Assyrians benefit from the healing water God gave to his people? It is ours, from the Gihon River in the Garden of Eden to the Gihon Spring.”
“But to have the builders start the tunnel at both ends, hoping they would meet in the middle!”
“I trusted our engineers—and our God. Now the water comes right through to the Pool or Siloam. The health of generations to come will benefit from my insanity.” Hezekiah raised his eyebrows at Harun, who laughed nervously.
The smile left his face as the door opened and two guards walked in. They were supporting a third dirty, dishevelled man who could barely stand unaided.
“Do you have news?” asked Hezekiah. He was suddenly breathing hard, almost as hard as the runner.
“Yes, my Lord.” The man tried to stand without help to bow before the king, but he staggered to his right, and a guard caught him. “They’re dead.”
“Who is dead?”
“The Assyrians.”
“How many?”
The runner tried to answer, spitting out the words between gasps for breath. “One—“
“One?”
“—hundred—“
“One hundred?”
“—and—eighty-five—“
“One hundred and eighty-five?”
“—thousand—“
“What? One hundred and eighty-five in one place. A thousand in another?”
“No.”
Hezekiah was torn between compassion for this exhausted man and desperation to hear news of their fate.
“Maybe he means one hundred and eighty-five thousand,” said Harun.
The runner nodded frantically as he grabbed a guard’s arm to prevent himself from slipping to the ground.
“How?” asked Hezekiah.
“An angel of the LORD.”
A flash of triumph crossed Hezekiah’s face. “And Sennacherib?”
“Gone.”
“Gone where.”
“Home.”
“He has fled?”
The runner nodded as half a grin lit up his weary face.
Hezekiah raised his arms in triumph. “And now that heathen rascal will be in no doubt. There is one true God. And the only way to live is with complete faith in him. Praise be to his name.”
DISCLAIMER
This story is based on the accounts of Hezekiah in 2 Kings, Isaiah, and 2 Chronicles. However, the chronology in the story may be inaccurate, and Harun is a figment of my imagination.
OTHER FICTION BY ALISON M. TOMLINSON
I’m Sorry, Oliver (a novel)
Hezekiah was granted a reprieve from serious illness by the power of God expressed through natural medicine. So was I. In 2012, I was bent over to the left, barely able to walk and in pain 24/7. I’m now standing straight, walking 95% better, and I’m pain-free. I tell my story in I’m Sorry, Oliver.
An Untimely Birth (a novel)
Hezekiah destroyed Moses’ brazen serpent because it had become an object of worship. In the 21st century, we still look to a snake on a stick (in the form of the WHO logo) for our health. An Untimely Birth examines how that symbol came to be used.
He Who Made Me Whole (a short story)
A new take on the healing at the pool of Bethesda in John chapter 5.
www.smashwords.com/profile/view/AlisonMT
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