To Be a King
By Hugh J. Cannon
Chapter 9
Synopsis: David, a descendant of John Hyrcanus, the founder of the Jewish monarchy, is a pretender to the throne now held by Herod Antipas. Just as David feels the throne is truly within his grasp, however, he encounters a Nazarene carpenter, whom he comes to believe is the promised Messiah. None of his associates, including his inamorata, Ruth, agree with him, but he will not and cannot deny the divinity of the Nazarene. David’s return to Jericho from Jerusalem is followed by an attempt on his life. With the aid of his stalwart servant, Hassan, David overwhelms the would-be assassins and discovers one of them to be Gideon, acting as Zebulon’s henchman. Gideon is penitent and promises to provide David information concerning plots against the Nazarene. Shortly thereafter, David and Ruth are reunited, and lay plans for their marriage. Since David fears for the Master’s safety, however, Elihu journeys to Jerusalem to learn of plots against him and to satisfy his own growing curiosity. After several days he returns, amazed at what he has seen.
Elihu smiled at Ruth’s eagerness to learn more of the Nazarene carpenter, then swiftly grew serious. “Yes, I think we are all eager to know more of this man.” Shaking his head, he muttered, “An amazing, mystifying man. . . .” Suddenly he looked at the others, the light glowing in his eyes:
“With the sick, the infirm, the aged, the poor, all those whom we are prone to look down upon, he is as tender as a mother with an ailing child. Indeed, while in no wise effeminate, his love more nearly resembles that of a devoted mother than anything else I have ever seen. But with the proud, he minces no words, and refutes their arguments or erroneous notions with astonishing ease. I feared he might consider me in that class and I did not care to invite his wrath.
“However, one of your former friends, David, addressed the Nazarene in a voice intended to attract the attention of all:
‘Do you know you are speaking to men whose business it is to guide this people?’ ” he said.
“The Master— you note that I call him the Master, for he is the most masterful man I have ever known, looked at his questioner stedfastly, and the proud fellow quailed under the penetrating gaze. Then the Nazarene thundered forth his rebuke as I imagine God himself would do.
‘Ye blind guides, which strain at a gnat and swallow a camel. Woe unto you scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are like whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men’s bones, and all uncleanness.’
“Your friend slunk away abashed and angry. To speak as the Master does, one should have an army to protect him.”
“And what do you think of him?”
“What do I think of him? I have put that question to myself over and over again, knowing it would be asked me. What do I think of him? I cannot answer fully, because I do not know. I call him Master. I might call him king, but majestic as he is, I am more inclined to call him my brother. Thus am I impressed. This Jesus is no common man. He can measure mental strength with the mightiest and emerge from the conflict unscathed and unruffled. His is the most sublimely impressive face I have ever beheld. It is godlike.”
“You believe he is the Messiah!” exclaimed David and Haran in unison.
“I cannot at this time say yes or no. I look into his face, quiet, serene as the stars of heaven, and yet every feature denoting omnipotent power. I behold his matchless bearing, more stately than Rome’s greatest emperor, and enhanced rather than diminished by his majestic humility.
“Then I see his poverty, his homelessness, his ragged followers and am convinced that, in spite of his power, his life is in danger; and in my variable mind the illusion, if I may call it that, is dispelled, and he becomes weak and human. These things seem entirely incompatible with a godly station, and I ask myself, Is this destitute wayfarer, whose life is in peril, the king whom scattered Israel has hoped and prayed for?’ I answer that he is no ordinary man, and further I cannot at present go.”
“But you know of his miracles. Are they not convincing?” Haran asked.
“I saw many mighty works. But the assurance I crave does not come from outward things. His spirit has borne witness of his divinity to your souls, but for some unknown reason has not done so to mine.
“There is something subtly and sweetly attractive in this Being. I longed, yet feared, to be in his presence and am ashamed of the reason for my fear.” The old man hesitated. “Perhaps I should confess to you, my dear ones, that there was within me an almost uncontrollable desire to follow David’s impulsive example and kneel at the feet of this young carpenter. Often I shunned close contact with him on that account, for usually he was surrounded by throngs of people, and among them always were many of my friends or their spies. But I did follow him from a distance more times than I should care to admit.”
The venerable old man then related eloquently, and at some length, his experiences in Jerusalem — how he had talked with Lazarus, who was raised from the dead, and how he had observed the Savior blessing children. But what had impressed Elihu most of all was the testimony he had received of the Nazarene’s divinity from a woman called Naomi. The woman, heavy with child, and afflicted with leprosy, had been driven into the desert by the heartless populace, be- labored with sticks and stones, with shouts of “Unclean! Unclean!” Behind in the city lay her dead husband, a victim of the same dread disease. It was while she wandered in the desert, like a creature possessed, alone and despised, that she chanced upon a stranger and staggered after him as he climbed a mountain slope. Then, she watched him kneel to pray, watched as his countenance began to emanate a heavenly light. Awestricken, she had drawn near to the figure, then fallen and kissed the hem of his garment. At that moment new life coursed through her veins. . . . She had been cured, had gazed into the face of the Master!
Elihu recited the woman’s entire account, in intimate detail, with awed tones and a countenance full of reverence. And when he had finished, the four of them sat silent. At last Ruth spoke: “And you actually heard this story from the woman’s own lips?”
“Yes,” replied the white-haired Elihu, “and I doubt not a word of it.”
“It was a remarkable experience,” said Martha. “I can see the Master as he smiled on the woman. I wish you had spoken to him on the mount. It is the sweetness of his voice in answer to a simple question, the divine look in his eyes, or a smile such as he gave Naomi that brings conviction.”
“I agree with you that his voice is the sweetest I have ever heard— like heavenly music,” said Father Elihu. Often since leaving Jerusalem I have regretted not speaking to him personally. Once I approached him with the intention of doing so, but seeing Zebulon in the distance and urgently desiring a word with him, I abandoned the sinless for the corrupt man.
“You saw Zebulon in Jerusalem? It was reported here that he had gone to Rome with the intention of remaining there.”
“Nevertheless he is in Jerusalem, and conspiring as usual, this time against the Master. However, he has taken a strange fancy to our friend Abner, who is with him constantly, and Zebulon can do nothing without word of it coming to
“Are they still plotting to rob David of his property?” Haran asked.
“Assuredly they are. To rob a believer in the Nazarene is considered a worthy act. His enemies thought their plot to take his property was complete in every detail; but my influence is still felt, and the days spent in Jerusalem were not wasted. Your enemies will meet some unexpected difficulties, David.”
The conversation turned to Haran’s complete conversion.
“I knew the conflict must soon end,” the old man said. “Mental contests, like physical ones, cannot continue indefinitely. One power or the other must succumb.”
“Father Elihu, tell me frankly how you would have had it end in Haran’s case,” said Ruth; “should he have renounced his friends or this strange man?”
“Had I Haran’s conviction,” he answered, “no power under heaven could restrain me from following the Master.”
David rose and walked uneasily up and down the room. “How recreant I have been. Although convinced of the Master’s divinity, I have not followed him. But the thing he asked me to do remains undone, which means that I have done nothing.”
“You judge yourself too harshly, though I have expected such an outburst,” rejoined Elihu.
“I consented to the marriage,” Ruth added, “knowing well that David could not long be restrained. But is the Nazarene not likely to come this way soon? Let us invite him to make our home his. I am eager to meet him and judge for myself.”
The idea seemed a good one, and Elihu prepared to take his departure. “It is time for old men to be in bed and for young ones, too. I shall wait for you lovers outside, and please do not entirely forget my existence.”
An upper room in Ruth’s home had been prepared for the wedding, and as the evening shades were stealing over the beautiful city, David arrived. The treatment accorded him by most of his young wealthy friends had been so offensive that he would not ask them to participate openly in the festivities, as was customary, and therefore he came unattended. He was joined at the door by Haran, who likewise had come alone.
Ruth was surrounded by a number of young girls— friends who weeks before had been invited to wait upon her at the wedding. The long veil which covered her from head to foot did not entirely conceal the beautiful face which to David was so dear. He was touched by the expression on her countenance, a mingling of trust and fear.
They stood side by side under a canopy with the usual crowns upon their heads. The ceremony was performed.
Following the marriage of David and Ruth, Haran and Martha were made one. Then the company departed for David’s home to partake of the prepared feast.
When the guests had all departed, David slipped into the garden. A moment later Ruth came down the moonlit path lined with pomegranate trees.
“Do you prefer solitude, David?”
“Oh, my beloved, I was just thanking heaven that my days of solitude are past. Distance may separate us, but I shall never be alone again.”
Together they walked up and down and about the grounds. The cool night air was laden with the perfume of roses and other flowers.
The following days were full of joy for David and Ruth— but still David longed for another opportunity of meeting the Master to strengthen his faith lest it waver. Reports had reached the newlyweds from time to time of the Teacher’s doings.
One morning as David was strolling in the garden a servant handed him a letter from Father Elihu informing him that the Nazarene was in great peril and that Elihu had left immediately for Jerusalem, hoping to afford the Savior what protection he could.
David’s naturally active spirit prompted him instantly to follow to Jerusalem. He departed with all haste. The rough mountainous road leading to Jerusalem was traversed with dangerous speed. The tortuous road had brought him through Bethany and almost to the Garden of Gethsemane, when a small party approached which included Father Elihu. The old man’s dejected attitude aroused serious forebodings in David’s heart. Father Elihu’s eyes were upon the ground. Dismounting wearily, he took his young friend in his arms. He spoke brokenly and with deep emotion.
“David, I am not surprised to meet you, but you come too late even to see him whom you loved.”
“What has happened?”
“The Master is dead.”
The young man was too much stunned by the message to comprehend its full import. Only his livid face gave evidence of how deeply he was affected.
“Dead! You say the Master is dead?” he asked at last. “But he could not die! He was the promised Messiah who was to redeem his people and be their king. He was Master of death. Why, only a moment ago I passed the tomb from which he called Lazarus forth. Man could not kill him. You assured me of that yourself.”
“I know that was my belief. But I was in error; men have killed him and in a most frightful manner. David, he was crucified; think of it, crucified! And between two thieves as if he had been a dangerous malefactor instead of the holiest man that ever trod the earth. Nothing that could humiliate or degrade him was left undone.”
“I cannot believe it. Why should the Messiah suffer such degradation when he has done nothing except for the betterment of mankind?”
“I can give no satisfactory answer. Until the last moment, I expected his supernatural power, many evidences of which I had seen, to triumph over his enemies. In that I was disappointed; but this much can truly be said, he lived and died like a God in everything except worldly glory.”
“And all your efforts to save him failed!”
Bleakly the two of them stared at the ground.
“David, I cannot explain it any more than you could make clear to others your belief in this man, but I am somewhat reconciled.”
“Reconciled to his death when he should have been your king?” David exclaimed.
“In one sense, no! Right gladly would I punish those who participated in his death, but an old man’s view of life differs greatly from that of a young one. Existence does not end with death, and while the thought is by no means clear to me, we must remember that the Nazarene was never bound by the narrow limitations which confine us, and, though it is inexplicable, at this moment it seems possible that he may even yet be our king.”
“You comfort me greatly,” David answered. “Rut now … it is I who doubt you. Why should he have died? Why? The Messiah nailed between two thieves!” Contritely he murmured, “Well, perhaps I may be able to do something for his afflicted followers in Jerusalem.”
“Then I, too, shall retrace my steps. My influence may be of service to you.”
But the younger demurred, “I fear another visit to the dreadful place will overtax your strength.”
“No fear of that. My strength is sufficient, and alone in Jerusalem you would become involved in endless difficulties.”
In silence the two friends turned their faces toward the city where the crucified King lay. Not until the following day did they find any of the disciples. That morning the two had separated to search, and shortly thereafter David encountered a wealthy friend who had espoused the Master’s cause. From this man he learned that the body had been given a decent burial— and more important, that the crucified one had said that he would rise again!
Rise again! Filled with hope, David hastened to communicate this intelligence to Father Elihu. He saw the old man near the Tower of David in the midst of a number of acquaintances, among whom, as he drew nearer, he saw Zebulon.
He had so much reason to abhor this adversary that he would have withdrawn had Zebulon not seen him and called him into the group saying:
“What say you now about your Messiah? Truly you selected a marvelous king to worship!”
David was too depressed to answer such taunts and made an effort to leave, but the other seized his arm and detained him.
“It is not surprising that this company displeases you,” continued Zebulon triumphantly, “for there are a number here, and I rejoice at being one of them, who assisted in the downfall of that impostor whom you insanely delighted to revere. I had the satisfaction of spitting on him, and now I am going to keep a promise made long ago that I would do the same to you,” and he spat in David’s face.
“You scoundrel, Zebulon,” Elihu thundered, “to boast of such dastardly deeds! David believes in the Nazarene who taught the doctrine of submitting to insult, but I can avenge his wrongs,” and the old man brought his staff down upon the offender’s head with such vigor that Zebulon was felled to the ground.
A great commotion ensued, but the older man calmly awaited a chance to speak,
“I am fighting my boy’s battles today. If any of you desire to fight this murderer’s, or if he is anxious to continue it himself, there are still a few good strokes left in this old arm and staff. Gideon, you have usually struck his blows for him. What have you to say? Will you stand forth in his stead?”
Gideon was vastly amused and delighted. He laughed uproariously. “No,” he said when his mirth had somewhat subsided. “I am no match for you. In this instance, this murderer, as you truly call him, may fight his own battles and take some of the blows he so richly deserves.”
Casting a look of scorn at the prostrate Zebulon, Father Elihu took David’s arm and the two departed. Both of them had decided to remain in Jerusalem long enough to behold the Risen Lord or to convince themselves that the promise in that regard was not to be taken too literally.
(To be continued)