JOSIAH, THE BOY KING
CHAPTER 1, PART 2
As the eight horses and the man on
foot came to the front of the palace they stopped. One of the soldiers leapt off his horse,
walked slowly to the old man standing in the middle of the street, took a large
key from inside his tunic, unlocked the chains that bound him and let them drop
with a clatter to the cobblestones.
“By order
of Esarhaddon, ruler of the universe, king of the Persians, Lord of the 120
provinces. I hereby proclaim freedom and
restoration for Manasseh, servant of King Esarhaddon, to the satrapy of the
province of Judea.”
With bowed
head Manasseh acknowledged the announcement by kneeling before the soldier,
then slowly rose to his feet and walked up the steps into the front gate of his
own palace. Only then did the street
again echo with the shouts, “Long live King Manasseh.”
For the
rest of the day Josiah was dropped off in the royal nursery under the care of
his nursemaid Zephorah, an Ethiopian slave girl. He didn’t get a chance to ask any more
questions until Zedidah came in to kiss him goodnight. As soon as she came into the room he threw
back the covers and climbed onto her lap.
“Please,
Mommy. Why was Grandpa Manasseh in
chains?”
Jedidah
smiled sadly. “I suppose it is time I
told you the whole story, even though you are so young. Very well, let’s begin. Your grandfather has been king of Judah for
almost fifty years. He became king upon
the death of his father, Hezekiah, when he was only twelve years of age.”
“Twelve
years old, Mommy?”
“Yes, just
twelve. That’s when his father died, and
he was the oldest son, just as you are the oldest son of your father Amon. I hope you understand and remember this
Josiah. Manasseh was so young that he
had to listen to older men and have their help in running the kingdom. There were two groups of men who wanted to
help him. One group was led by King
Hezekiah’s friend the prophet Isaiah.
But Isaiah was getting old and all the men in his group were quite old
as well. Manasseh was young and didn’t
want to spend all his time with a bunch of old guys. The other group of advisors were much
younger, some of them only a few years older than Manasseh himself. Their leader was a man named Bar-Abel. At first Manasseh would call in both Isaiah
and Bar-Abel when he had to make a decision.
But pretty soon he quit listening to Isaiah and took all his advice from
Bar-Abel and his friends.
“But wasn’t
he the king, Mommy? Can’t kings do
anything they want to do?”
“Not
really, son. There is One who is greater
even than a king. That one is Jehovah,
the God of Judah. Isaiah was a prophet
of God and his advice came from God Himself.
Manasseh should have listened to him and he knows that now.”
“He does?”
Jedidah
pulled him closer and rocked gently.
“Yes, he knows. But he was king
for a long time before he learned that lesson.
I want you to know about God when you are very young, my son. It will be much better than way.”
“What did
Bar-Abel tell grandpa to do, Mommy?”
Jedidah
hugged him tight and a tear fell from her eye.
“Your father Amon had an older brother,” she said.
“But I
thought father was the oldest. I thought
he was going to be the next king.”
“He is,
now. But he had a brother whose name was
Azariah. He was named after another one
of your great ancestors. When Azariah
was a very small boy, smaller than you…” Jedidah stopped again as the tears
flowed faster and she had to tell the story while wiping them from her face.
“Bar-Abel came to your
grandfather.”
“King
Manasseh, the god Baal is upset with us.”
“But
Bar-Abel. We worship Jehovah, the God of
Judah.”
“Your
father Hezekiah did, you mean. But not
his father, Ahaz. And there are many of
us who have long ago given up the old ways.
This is a new age, Manasseh. The
worship of Jehovah was good enough for Moses and Abraham and David, but they’ve
been dead for years. We need a new god
for today.”
“But how do
you know Baal is angry?”
“He came to
me in a vision.”
“A
vision? You have really seen a god in a
vision?”
“Oh, it was
a wonderful sight. I had just eaten my
fill of roast pig…”
“Roast
pig? But we aren’t allowed to eat roast
pig. Jehovah forbad it in the law of
Moses.”
“See,
that’s exactly what I’m talking about.
I’ve eaten roast pig for years and it never hurt me. In fact, it’s much tastier than beef or
lamb. I think Moses was an old
stick-in-the-mud who just didn’t want us to enjoy all the good things of
life. He probably just wanted to keep
all the pork for himself.”
When
Manasseh heard that he threw his hands up over his head and fell to the
ground. “Don’t talk like that. God will send down fire and brimstone like He
did on Sodom and Gomorrah.”
“I don’t
believe that story either. I think it’s
time you got your eyes opened Manasseh.
Baal is a lot greater than your father’s God Jehovah.”
Again
Manasseh covered his head with his hands, but when nothing happened, he began
to calm down.
“Tell me
about your vision.”
“Well, I
had just settled down on my couch for an afternoon nap, after my meal of roast
pig.”
Again,
Manasseh’s hands started up, and then dropped back to his side.
“I was just
about asleep when a strange light began to fill the room. It was bright and smoky like sunlight burning
through a fog. In my dream I sat
straight up in bed, but when I looked down I was sitting instead on a throne,
with winged camels for arms and gold covered foxes for legs. The room around me had no windows and yet
this brilliant light came from everywhere.
Below me the smoke covered the floor.
I couldn’t tell if the throne was actually sitting on anything or if it
was high and lifted up in mid-air.”
“Awesome,”
Manasseh muttered.
“Then the
mist began moving, and swirling and gathering into a twisting wind in the
middle of the room. As it swirled I grew
dizzy and would have fallen off my throne, but what felt like a great hand
grabbed me by my hair and held me up.
Then I saw faces swirling around in the twisting mist. Faces without bodies, eyes without faces and
mouths without eyes.”
“Weren’t
you afraid?”
“The hand
that held me up by my hair seemed to fill me with peace. I had no fear. Instead I felt like I was almost a god
myself. I felt such freedom, such power. Soon the mouths and eyes came together in one
large face which continued to turn with the whirlwind. And then the lips began to move and words
came from below and high above, from right there in the room and from somewhere
far, far away.”
“All at the
same time?”
“All at the
same time. The voice said—
Bar-Abel—whom
shall I send to Manasseh—who will go for me to the new king?
And then I
felt the hand on my hair reach right through my head and move my lips. Without even trying I was giving an answer to
the voice. “I will go, oh whirlwind. I will carry your message to King Manasseh.”
“A message
for me from the gods? They chose you to
give a message to me? Isaiah never comes
with any message just for me. He talks
to the people instead, and just treats me like one of them. Quickly, what did the whirlwind say? Tell me quickly. I must know.”
Bar-abel
didn’t even seem to hear him, but instead assumed a trance-like state. To Manasseh, who couldn’t see his lips move
at all, it was as if the voice from somewhere else had taken over and was
simply using Bar-abel as a way to speak directly to the king.
--Manasseh. See with your heart and hear with your
ears. Open your eyes and understand with
your liver. There is no god but Baal and
Bar-abel is his prophet. He is my son,
my beloved. Hear him and obey—
Suddenly
Bar-abel snapped back out of his trance and looked around the room as if he had
just arrived.
“What
happened?” he said.
“The king
bowed low in front of his friend. He was
ready to do anything Bar-abel told him to do.
And that’s when the most terrible thing of all took place.”
Once again
Jedidah broke into tears. Josiah didn’t
understand why, he could never remember his mother crying like that
before. She had always been so happy. Finally she was able to continue the story.
“One day
Bar-abel came into the palace where Manasseh was playing with his little boy
Azariah. Bar-abel didn’t like Azariah
because he knew that Azariah was being taught to love Jehovah by the priests
from the temple. He didn’t want him to
be the next king after Manasseh. So he
told the king he had received another vision from Baal. Baal was angry and the only way to appease
him was the take little Azariah to the valley of Molech
and sacrifice him to Baal. Manasseh was
very sad, but the voice had told him to obey everything Bar-abel told him to
do. The next day he took Azariah out to
the valley where the big statue of Molech stands. Bar-abel built a huge fire in the belly of
the statue so that the entire idol, including its hands, became red-hot. And then your grandfather placed Azariah on
those red-hot hands, offering his life to the god Baal.”
Josiah was
crying now and clinging to his mother’s neck as tightly as he could possibly
cling.
“Mommy, is
that why you are so sad? Is that what’s
going to happen to me? I’m the first
born son. Now that Grandpa Manasseh has
returned, are they going to burn me alive in the valley of Molech?”
