Josiah, The Boy King Chapter 7 Part 1

Josiah, The Boy King  Chapter 7  Part 1

            The news that Bar-Abel was the uncle of his new queen almost ruined Josiah’s wedding day for him.  He had been so carried away with Hamutal’s beauty that he had refused to listen even to his mother and Hilkiah as they tried to warn him that she might not be a follower of Jehovah-God.

            Because he was now king and because he worshipped Jehovah, Josiah believed that everyone else in the kingdom was doing the same thing.  But such was not the case.  In the days after the wedding reports began to filter in from cities all over the land that many people were still worshipping Baal in spite of the fact that the law of the land said they were to worship God in the temple.  And every report he received said the same thing—Bar-Abel was behind it all.

“I just can’t believe it’s really as bad as the people are saying,” Josiah told Benjamin and Shaphan one afternoon while they were out hunting with their bows.  “But every day another visitor comes to me with a story about how people are worshipping Baal openly in the areas of Manasseh and Ephraim.”

“You have to expect that,” Benjamin said.  “The northern tribes have worshipped Baal for years.  That’s why most of them were carried away into captivity.  The few people who are left are just like the ones who were taken captive.”

“But didn’t they learn their lesson when they saw what God did to their nation?  And haven’t our people, the people of Judah learned the same lesson?  It’s not just up in the cities of Israel.  I’ve had reports of Baal worship in Judah, even right here in Jerusalem.”

“That’s terrible,” said Shaphan.  “Why, if our people insist on worshipping Baal, God will have to punish us just like He did Israel.  He won’t spare us just because we have the temple.”

“I’ve got to find out,” said Josiah.  “I’ve got to know what is going on in my kingdom.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Listen, here’s my plan.  You fellows keep your ears open in the market-place the next couple of days.  If this false worship is as open as people tell me it is, sooner or later you’ll hear something about a meeting-place or a place of worship.  As soon as you hear something, let me know and we’ll go from there.”

For the next several days Benjamin and Shaphan spent a lot of time in the markets which lined the street running the length of the Tyropean Valley through the center of Jerusalem.  They sat in the sheep market at the Sheep Gate on the northern edge of the city.  They wandered through the encampments of the camel merchants who stopped on the outside of the wall to sell the carpets and knives and silk, the gold and silver bowls and beautiful scarves they had purchased on their travels from India to Ethiopia and back.

Josiah had indeed been right.  Small images of Baal were being sold openly in the marketplace.  The sheep merchants complained that even though the temple was open and sacrifices were again being offered to Jehovah, few of the people of the city came to buy sheep for sacrifice.  The camel merchants, who were worshippers of false gods themselves, told the boys that they couldn’t see any difference between the way things were now and the way they had been under Amon and Manasseh.

“Look at it this way,” one grizzled old camel driver told them.  “Last time I was through this way Amon was king.  The people I sold my goods to didn’t care if I worshipped Molech or Baal or Ashtaroth or no gods at all.  Now Josiah is the king and he worships Jehovah. But the people?  Why they still don’t care.  The way I see it, none of the gods have done anything for them anyway so why should they do anything for the gods?”

What the boys listened for most of all was some indication of where the Baal worshippers were meeting.  The fires of Molech where they used to offer children had long since ceased to burn.  But they had to be meeting somewhere to encourage each other to disobey the orders of the king.

By the end of the week they had decided that one of the merchants in the marketplace, a sly-looking gold merchant by the name of Jekameamshobab, was selling more images of Baal than anyone else in the city.  They decided that if anyone knew where the Baal worshippers were meeting, it had to be Jekameamshobab.

Early Friday afternoon they arrived at Jekameamshobab’s booth on the busy Tyropean Way and sat down next to the merchant with a pot of tea between them.  They were hoping he was in a talkative mood, and they weren’t disappointed.

            “What can I interest you young fellows in this afternoon?  A golden mug from Egypt?  Or perhaps a silver looking glass for that new bride you will be taking soon.  The way you fellows have been hanging around all week I figure you must be looking for a gift for some young lady.”

Benjamin and Shaphan grinned at each other.  They had been looking at a lot of things they would never think of buying for themselves.

“Well,” said Shaphan.  “We are interested in something made of gold, but not for our brides.  Our fathers have not yet made arrangements for that blessed event.”

“Then it is a gift for a mother you are seeking?  Let me show you these fine silks from Araby and this string of Babylonian lapis lazuli which they mined on the slopes of the far-off Afgan steppes.”

“No, not for our mothers either,” said Benjamin.  “This is something for ourselves.  If we seem hesitant it is not because we desire it any less, but because we have heard of the commands of our king concerning its purchase.”

A quick glance of recognition passed over the merchant’s face and to cover it up he took along drink of the strong tea which had been brewing all day over his little coal fire.

“Ah,” he sighed.  “You are seeking historical artifacts, perhaps.  You have developed a great interest in the history of our nation, could it be?”

The two boys nodded eagerly, sensing he was on the verge of telling them about the very items they were seeking.

“As you have already stated, our king, bless his good and holy name, has decreed that for the good of our people there should be no more worship of the false gods our people served in days gone by.  I’m certain that everyone sees the value of such a law.”  Jekameamshobab stared out at them from eyes that were closed to a narrow slit.

“Yes, yes.”  The boys agreed with him, feeling that was probably what he wanted to hear.

“But---,” the merchant took a long sip of tea.  “There are those in our nation who realize that worship of other gods was a part of our history.  That fact cannot be changed.  These individuals who value history would not want us to lose contact with our heritage.  And so they are trying to preserve some of the old ways—simply for the purpose of historical accuracy, mind you.”

Again the boys nodded in agreement.  They could see how the whole thing was a lie made up to justify his selling of the statues, but they had to find out the information which Josiah wanted.

“It is to help these people in their historical studies that I have laid in store a small stock of the artifacts you fellows are seeking.  But, tell me?  Am I right that your interest is in these religious artifacts of historical value?”

“Oh, yes,” agreed Shaphan.  “Please allow us to see what you have available.”

Glancing up and down the street several times, Jekomeamshobab looked as if he had forgotten about them.  But then he saw who he was seeking and called loudly.

“Tobiah, over here, quickly.”

A little fellow about eight years old appeared from somewhere in the crowd and crouched down on his haunches to watch the booth.  Jekomeamshobab lifted a curtain over a door in the wall behind him and gestured to the fellows to follow him.

It took a short time for Benjamin and Shaphan to adjust their eyes to the semi-darkness on the other side of the door.  But soon they were able to see that the room in which they were standing was literally crowded with idols.  Most of them were quite small, the kind that people hung in the doorway  or set up in a corner of the room when the whole land had worshipped Baal.  But not all were small and not all were of Baal.  There were statues of Nimrod, the hunter and large flat disks which were painted with the image of the sun-god Ra.  There were statues of Ashtaroth and Molech and Tammuz.  Some of them were of clay and stone, but many were made of gold and silver.

Benjamin picked out one of the largest gold images of Baal and asked the price.  He had no intention of buying it, but he had to convince the merchant that they were really serious about Baal worship.

“That one I will make you a bargain,” Jekameamshobab rubbed his hands together greedily.  “you may be the proud possessor of that genuine gold artifact for the measly sum of 50 gold shekels.  It breaks my heart to part with it for such an insignificant amount of money, but for you, I will do that.”

The boys knew that 50 shekels of gold was more gold than was in the entire statue and that it was in no way a bargain.  But they never hesitated.  “A fair price for such a precious item, but tell us, do you have more of this quality artifact?”

Jekameamshobab nodded his head so fast they thought he was going to lose his last tooth.  “I can get more, surely I can.  Just tell me how many you want.  Two?  Three?”

The boys glanced at each other before Benjamin answered.  They could sense that the information they were seeking was near at hand.

“No, more like fifteen or twenty.  Let’s see, that would be one thousand gold shekels, would it not?”

At the mention of one thousand gold shekels the merchant’s eyes glazed over with a look of absolute rapture.   That was the largest sale he had ever hoped to make, more than he had made all of the last year.

“Do you think you can have them for us on the third day of next week?  It would please us greatly if that could be arranged.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.  What a pleasure it will be to provide these items for you.  I am your most humble and obedient servant.”

Quickly the boys pursued their advantage while the time was right.  Jekameamshobab was so struck by the thought of so many gold shekels that he didn’t even realize what he was telling them.

“Is there a society for the preservation of history in our nation, Jekameamshobab?”

“Oh yes.  A large society.  Many are interested in my statues, but few are able to afford these beautiful gold images the two of you are seeking.”

“And where does this society meet?”  Shaphan dropped the question casually, as if they were still discussing the price of the twenty statues.

The merchant ran his hand over the smooth surface of the gold image he was holding, visualizing in his mind the fifty shekels of gold it would soon bring to him.

“Why under the temple of course.  Right underneath the holy place.  How that stupid Priest Hilkiah would be upset if he knew.”

“You mean there are rooms underneath the temple?”
            “Oh, yes.  Ancient rooms, dug when Solomon was constructing the temple and then lost for many years.  There is a hole in the Western Wall just beyond the house of the son of Aasrah, keeper of the wardrobe.”

“And when does the society meet?”  Benjamin tried hard to hide his excitement, but Jekameamshobab wasn’t even listening.

“Friday night.  When all the worshippers of Jehovah are in their homes preparing for the Sabbath. It is the perfect time because none of them are out to spy on our activities.  But I can expect you on the third day of the week to come?”

“If you have the twenty statues we will be here,” replied Shaphan.  “But don’t fail us or we will take our business elsewhere.”

“Oh, no.  Jekameamshobab will not fail.  Nothing will keep me from delivering those artifacts on time.”

The boys blinked as they reappeared in the sunshine.  Tobiah was still squatting in the same place where they had left him.  With many farewells and salutations they took their last sips of tea and disappeared into the marketplace crowds.