Josiah, The Boy King Chapter 8 Part 1

Josiah, The Boy King  Chapter 8  Part 1

            “Don’t let him get away.  Stop that man.  I’ll have the life of the man who lets him escape.”

            The commanding voice of King Josiah echoed from off the top of the wall surrounding the city of Hazor.  Below him twenty soldiers chased a solitary figure in a long robe who had been hiding in the back of a cart until the guards at the gate had discovered him.

            “That’s Zepho, the priest of Baal,” Josiah roared to his men. “Don’t let him get away.”

            As the first and fastest soldier caught up with the fleeing priest, the robed figure stopped and turned back toward the city.  Grabbing his robe with both hands he ripped it in two from the top to the bottom and shouted in defiance at the king on the wall.

            “May you rot forever in an unmarked grave.  May the vultures eat your flesh upon the battlefield.  May your son be like Absalom, son of David.  Death to Josiah.  Long life Baal.  Long live…”

            In the middle of his hateful cries the soldier slipped his sword in between the false priest’s ribs and the hateful venom ceased forever.

            Zepho was the last active priest of Baal in all the land of the Jews as far as King Josiah knew.  For four long years, ever since Bar-Abel had died in the hidden chambers under the temple, the king and his soldiers had been riding through the land breaking down altars, burning groves, beating idols into powder and whenever necessary destroying false priests.  All of the priests of Baal hated Josiah almost as much as they hated Jehovah-God.  The king knew that if he let them live they would teach the people to hate him too.  And even worse, they would teach the people to hate God and to worship the idol of Baal.

            Since the northern kingdom of Judah had gone into captivity many years before, and there was no king in the north over the people who remained, Josiah took his campaign to rid the land of idols all the way up to the area north of the sea of Galilee.  That’s where the city of  Hazor was located, many miles away from Jerusalem.  But now Zepho was dead, the idols had been destroyed in Hazor and they could go back to their homes.

            When Josiah arrived back in Jerusalem he immediately sent for Benjamin and Shaphan.

            “Fellows, to the best of my knowledge we have destroyed Baal worship in the land of Israel. But there is still much to be done.  Unless we have something to take the place of the people’s false religion they will soon go back to it.  We need to fix up the temple so that it is once again the most beautiful place in the world, a place where people will want to come and worship Jehovah.”

            “Great idea,” agreed Shaphan.  ‘I know it will please Hilkiah the high priest very much.”

            “I also believe it to be a wonderful idea,” added Benjamin. “But I see one major problem.”

            “Problem?  What is that?  The king had been commanding loyal soldiers for four years and wasn’t used to having his ideas questioned.  “Can’t I do anything I want to do?”

            “Of course you can issue a decree that the temple should be repaired,” said Benjamin.  “But rebuilding a temple takes money.  You have to buy gold and silver to replace all the inlaid pieces that have been carried off during various wars.  And the silken tapestries that need to be replaced are very expensive.  Even the bricks and mortar and boards don’t come cheaply.”

            “You’re right, of course.  But don’t the people bring money as offerings when they come to worship?”

            Shaphan rose to his feet and walked over to look out the palace window, as if hesitant to reply.  “That’s the way God intended for His work to be supported, Josiah.  But while the people were worshipping Baal there was barely enough money given to feed the priests, much less take care of the buildings.”

            “All right.  Here’s what we will do.  Tell the Levites to build a big box with a small hole in the top.  Set it at the front door of the temple where everyone who goes in will see it.  Then we will tell the people that when thy come with their sacrifices to the temple they should bring something extra and put it in the box.  Everything in the box will be used for rebuilding the temple.”

            Benjamin and Shaphan smiled and nodded their agreement, but neither one of them thought the idea would work.  Baal worship had been destroyed, yes, but the people still were not excited about worshipping Jehovah.  Very few of them came to the temple and many who did were very, very poor.  Shaphan knew that often Hilkiah would give those people food and clothes because they were too poor to buy them.  How could people like that ever give enough money to buy gold and silver to rebuild a beautiful temple?

            But they didn’t tell all that to Josiah because they could see he was upset with them.  Instead they did as he commanded and had the Levites build a big box and set it right by the front doors of the temple.

            To their amazement the box started filling up.  Boys who were coming to the temple for their birthday parties would take all of the money they had been given as presents and put it in the box for the Lord.  Farmers would stop in after selling their harvest crops and give generously from that which they had earned.  Widows would come by with a single silver coin tied up in the corner of a handkerchief and spend five minutes unknotting the cloth so they could get their one little coin out and present it to God.

            Not everyone gave because they loved the Lord, of course.  One day as Shaphan was watching people go into the temple, who should come along but Jekameamshobab.  Even though all of his images of Baal had been confiscated and destroyed he still had all of his other merchandise in his shop on the Tyropean Way.  There he regularly cheated people out of their money, so naturally he was very rich.  Now that the worship of Baal was no longer allowed and people were worshipping Jehovah he had apparently decided it would be good for business if he gave something to the temple.

            But Jekameamshobab wanted everyone to know he was giving.  So he hired a band.  As Shaphan watched in amazement, twelve trumpet players appeared at the foot of the steps that led up to the great front gates of the temple.  Following them were six drummers and then twelve more trumpeters behind them.  As they beat their drums and the horns blared, Jekameamshobab got out of his chariot, slowly walked up the steps followed by two servants carrying money bags.  At first Shaphan thought he was going to have them empty the money bags into the box—there must have been at least a hundred gold coins in each of them.  But instead, Jekameamshobab opened each bag slowly, took one coin from off the stop of each pile, held them up for everyone to see and then slowly dropped them into the box.  Then the servants closed the bags, the merchant walked slowly back down the stairs, climbed into his chariot and with the band still playing, drove away.

            It almost made Shaphan sick.  In fact, he was so mad he went straight to Hilkiah the high priest.

            “I think we ought to just take his money and give it back to him.  I don’t see how we can use it for the temple. He probably got it by cheating someone anyway.”

            Hilkiah smiled.  “I understand what you are saying, my son.  It grieves my heart when people are hypocrites.  Many people serve God only because they think it will make other people think highly of them.  But the Scriptures tell us that God looks on the hearts of men instead of on the outside.  He is not impressed by trumpets and drums, or even by gold coins.  He is concerned about the things which are in our hearts.  Someday our Messiah will come and he will know exactly what is in the heart of every man.”

            “Will he be a king, like Josiah?”

            “Yes, a king.  But greater than Josiah.  You know how much I love our king and how wonderful it is that he has destroyed Baal worship and plans to rebuild the temple.  But Josiah’s heart is still not perfect before God like the Messiah’s will be.  He will be holy and righteous in every way.  He will be the perfect man.”

            “Then one of Josiah’s sons, perhaps?”

            “Perhaps.  But I doubt it.  Have we not heard that Hamutal and her son still worship Baal back in her hometown of Libnah and the king refuses to stop her?  No, my son, I do not think Messiah will come yet.  But come He will.  When God’s time is right, nothing will keep Him from coming.  And then we will have a kingdom which no enemy can destroy.  A kingdom of goodness and righteousness and truth.”

            “How do you know these things, Hilkiah?  Who told you about the Messiah?”

            “As a small boy I can remember my father quoting long passages from what he called the holy books.  He had seen them himself as a small lad and had heard the priests read from them.”

            “Holy books?”

            “Scrolls, written by Moses it is said.  And some by David and Solomon.  But alas, they are no more.  All of the scrolls were destroyed in one of the wars or were perhaps carried off to some far away land never to be returned to their rightful owners.  All that I know of the holy books are those words taught to me by my father.  It is those words I have shared with you and Benjamin and King Josiah.  Never forget them, my son.  They are all we have of the Word of God.”

           

Josiah, The Boy King  Chapter 8  Part 1

            “Don’t let him get away.  Stop that man.  I’ll have the life of the man who lets him escape.”

            The commanding voice of King Josiah echoed from off the top of the wall surrounding the city of Hazor.  Below him twenty soldiers chased a solitary figure in a long robe who had been hiding in the back of a cart until the guards at the gate had discovered him.

            “That’s Zepho, the priest of Baal,” Josiah roared to his men. “Don’t let him get away.”

            As the first and fastest soldier caught up with the fleeing priest, the robed figure stopped and turned back toward the city.  Grabbing his robe with both hands he ripped it in two from the top to the bottom and shouted in defiance at the king on the wall.

            “May you rot forever in an unmarked grave.  May the vultures eat your flesh upon the battlefield.  May your son be like Absalom, son of David.  Death to Josiah.  Long life Baal.  Long live…”

            In the middle of his hateful cries the soldier slipped his sword in between the false priest’s ribs and the hateful venom ceased forever.

            Zepho was the last active priest of Baal in all the land of the Jews as far as King Josiah knew.  For four long years, ever since Bar-Abel had died in the hidden chambers under the temple, the king and his soldiers had been riding through the land breaking down altars, burning groves, beating idols into powder and whenever necessary destroying false priests.  All of the priests of Baal hated Josiah almost as much as they hated Jehovah-God.  The king knew that if he let them live they would teach the people to hate him too.  And even worse, they would teach the people to hate God and to worship the idol of Baal.

            Since the northern kingdom of Judah had gone into captivity many years before, and there was no king in the north over the people who remained, Josiah took his campaign to rid the land of idols all the way up to the area north of the sea of Galilee.  That’s where the city of  Hazor was located, many miles away from Jerusalem.  But now Zepho was dead, the idols had been destroyed in Hazor and they could go back to their homes.

            When Josiah arrived back in Jerusalem he immediately sent for Benjamin and Shaphan.

            “Fellows, to the best of my knowledge we have destroyed Baal worship in the land of Israel. But there is still much to be done.  Unless we have something to take the place of the people’s false religion they will soon go back to it.  We need to fix up the temple so that it is once again the most beautiful place in the world, a place where people will want to come and worship Jehovah.”

            “Great idea,” agreed Shaphan.  ‘I know it will please Hilkiah the high priest very much.”

            “I also believe it to be a wonderful idea,” added Benjamin. “But I see one major problem.”

            “Problem?  What is that?  The king had been commanding loyal soldiers for four years and wasn’t used to having his ideas questioned.  “Can’t I do anything I want to do?”

            “Of course you can issue a decree that the temple should be repaired,” said Benjamin.  “But rebuilding a temple takes money.  You have to buy gold and silver to replace all the inlaid pieces that have been carried off during various wars.  And the silken tapestries that need to be replaced are very expensive.  Even the bricks and mortar and boards don’t come cheaply.”

            “You’re right, of course.  But don’t the people bring money as offerings when they come to worship?”

            Shaphan rose to his feet and walked over to look out the palace window, as if hesitant to reply.  “That’s the way God intended for His work to be supported, Josiah.  But while the people were worshipping Baal there was barely enough money given to feed the priests, much less take care of the buildings.”

            “All right.  Here’s what we will do.  Tell the Levites to build a big box with a small hole in the top.  Set it at the front door of the temple where everyone who goes in will see it.  Then we will tell the people that when thy come with their sacrifices to the temple they should bring something extra and put it in the box.  Everything in the box will be used for rebuilding the temple.”

            Benjamin and Shaphan smiled and nodded their agreement, but neither one of them thought the idea would work.  Baal worship had been destroyed, yes, but the people still were not excited about worshipping Jehovah.  Very few of them came to the temple and many who did were very, very poor.  Shaphan knew that often Hilkiah would give those people food and clothes because they were too poor to buy them.  How could people like that ever give enough money to buy gold and silver to rebuild a beautiful temple?

            But they didn’t tell all that to Josiah because they could see he was upset with them.  Instead they did as he commanded and had the Levites build a big box and set it right by the front doors of the temple.

            To their amazement the box started filling up.  Boys who were coming to the temple for their birthday parties would take all of the money they had been given as presents and put it in the box for the Lord.  Farmers would stop in after selling their harvest crops and give generously from that which they had earned.  Widows would come by with a single silver coin tied up in the corner of a handkerchief and spend five minutes unknotting the cloth so they could get their one little coin out and present it to God.

            Not everyone gave because they loved the Lord, of course.  One day as Shaphan was watching people go into the temple, who should come along but Jekameamshobab.  Even though all of his images of Baal had been confiscated and destroyed he still had all of his other merchandise in his shop on the Tyropean Way.  There he regularly cheated people out of their money, so naturally he was very rich.  Now that the worship of Baal was no longer allowed and people were worshipping Jehovah he had apparently decided it would be good for business if he gave something to the temple.

            But Jekameamshobab wanted everyone to know he was giving.  So he hired a band.  As Shaphan watched in amazement, twelve trumpet players appeared at the foot of the steps that led up to the great front gates of the temple.  Following them were six drummers and then twelve more trumpeters behind them.  As they beat their drums and the horns blared, Jekameamshobab got out of his chariot, slowly walked up the steps followed by two servants carrying money bags.  At first Shaphan thought he was going to have them empty the money bags into the box—there must have been at least a hundred gold coins in each of them.  But instead, Jekameamshobab opened each bag slowly, took one coin from off the stop of each pile, held them up for everyone to see and then slowly dropped them into the box.  Then the servants closed the bags, the merchant walked slowly back down the stairs, climbed into his chariot and with the band still playing, drove away.

            It almost made Shaphan sick.  In fact, he was so mad he went straight to Hilkiah the high priest.

            “I think we ought to just take his money and give it back to him.  I don’t see how we can use it for the temple. He probably got it by cheating someone anyway.”

            Hilkiah smiled.  “I understand what you are saying, my son.  It grieves my heart when people are hypocrites.  Many people serve God only because they think it will make other people think highly of them.  But the Scriptures tell us that God looks on the hearts of men instead of on the outside.  He is not impressed by trumpets and drums, or even by gold coins.  He is concerned about the things which are in our hearts.  Someday our Messiah will come and he will know exactly what is in the heart of every man.”

            “Will he be a king, like Josiah?”

            “Yes, a king.  But greater than Josiah.  You know how much I love our king and how wonderful it is that he has destroyed Baal worship and plans to rebuild the temple.  But Josiah’s heart is still not perfect before God like the Messiah’s will be.  He will be holy and righteous in every way.  He will be the perfect man.”

            “Then one of Josiah’s sons, perhaps?”

            “Perhaps.  But I doubt it.  Have we not heard that Hamutal and her son still worship Baal back in her hometown of Libnah and the king refuses to stop her?  No, my son, I do not think Messiah will come yet.  But come He will.  When God’s time is right, nothing will keep Him from coming.  And then we will have a kingdom which no enemy can destroy.  A kingdom of goodness and righteousness and truth.”

            “How do you know these things, Hilkiah?  Who told you about the Messiah?”

            “As a small boy I can remember my father quoting long passages from what he called the holy books.  He had seen them himself as a small lad and had heard the priests read from them.”

            “Holy books?”

            “Scrolls, written by Moses it is said.  And some by David and Solomon.  But alas, they are no more.  All of the scrolls were destroyed in one of the wars or were perhaps carried off to some far away land never to be returned to their rightful owners.  All that I know of the holy books are those words taught to me by my father.  It is those words I have shared with you and Benjamin and King Josiah.  Never forget them, my son.  They are all we have of the Word of God.”