Pekah
Jonathan enjoyed their early-morning breakfast, which went on for the better part of an hour. Their conversation was full of reminiscing, much of it centered on the mischievous exploits of Eli and Jonathan as they grew up together in Hasor. The occasional laughter helped to ease some of the heavy emotional burden Jonathan had been carrying. He was glad for the diversion.
At one point, Pekah took the opportunity to thank Eli for telling him the story of the raven. “I’ve never been told why the raven is a symbol to my people. I had always assumed it was chosen because there are so many of the birds in the mountainous areas around our cities. Jonathan, what is the history behind the Serpent of Daniel? Now that I think of it, I don’t know the story of the Ox of Uzzah, either.”
Jonathan scratched his beard thoughtfully. “There isn’t really a story to go along with the serpent… it’s rather just a symbol of qualities my people feel are important. The creature is wise because it is always careful of the path it takes, lest it be trodden. It always knows the way back home to its hole in the ground, and it will not harm another unless harmed itself. Our symbol includes a white circle to remind us that a serpent can also be deadly, and unless wisdom and knowledge are kept within the bounds of truth, we can be led into deadly paths. A serpent should always be treated with respect.
“As for the ox,” Jonathan continued, “it’s a symbol of work and strength. It can bear many burdens, and does not tire easily. Uzzah is blessed with the strength of God as he serves all of Noah’s children in God’s temples. What do you know of temples, Pekah?”
Pekah’s brow lifted with interest, but quickly furrowed. “I know only of the sacrifices.”
Jonathan paused, his forming thoughts interrupted by the sound of the bubbling stream nearby. He felt a strong desire to teach Pekah more about the purpose of temples, but the chatter-like sputters of the water reminded him of their current location in the woods. He thought it might be best to discuss a plan for the day while they were still at leisure to do so.
“Pekah, do you mind if we talk of temples later?” Jonathan asked. “Right now, I would like opinions about our travel plans. For one thing, I have never been this far down the trail toward Ain. Father and I always traveled through Saron. I don’t know exactly how long it will take us to reach Ain, and I’m reconsidering my desire to stay here for the day, even if it is the Sabbath.” He smiled and watched both Pekah and Eli, waiting for their response.
Eli took a deep breath and let it out loudly. He kicked a twig toward the fire. “For some reason, while we have been talking, I too have been getting the itch to move on. I realize it is the Sabbath, however…”
Jonathan shook his head, and prodded him to finish with a drawn out “ Yes…?”
“Well,” Eli stammered, “I just get the feeling we’re supposed to leave. It’s almost as if we’ll be late for something important if we don’t leave soon.”
Jonathan stood up slowly, as if rising from a relaxing afternoon nap. A slight breeze picked up, and he turned toward it and smelled the air. Earlier, he had been quite content to stay where they were, but now that Eli pointed it out, he too felt as if something had changed.
“You know, Eli, I think you are right. Pekah?”
Pekah shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose that would be fine.”
All in agreement, they packed their belongings. Jonathan used a chunk of wood to push dirt over the cooled ashes of their night fire. It let off very little smoke, as most of the coals had gone gray and cold already. Eli toppled the logs previously used for seats into the surrounding undergrowth, and Pekah used a cut branch to mask whatever footprints he could find.
One last inspection proved their work to be satisfactory, so Jonathan waved them on. The three men left the hidden alcove of tangled brush behind them to follow the worn forest path which meandered under the more open parts of the canopy. Littering the trail were the occasional broken remnants of wind-stripped branches and fallen leaves, peppered by acorns from stately oak trees and cones from the pines scattered among them. Now much drier than the previous evening, the path showed little evidence of their footsteps as they hiked together westward. Although the light through the trees had not entirely burned off every patch of ground fog-remnants of moisture from the rains two days before-it was still a beautiful morning.
They traveled in silence for several minutes until the trees began to thin somewhat and the path became wide enough for them to walk abreast. At that point, conversations continued. Eli shared general things with Pekah about his duties at the temple in Ramathaim. He told Pekah about the temple site, the altar of sacrifice, and the throngs of people who would bring their offerings on celebrated holy days. With much expression, he described the smells and the sounds, and even the distinct feelings he felt while serving the people.
“I have never felt such a sacred connection to the divine or a deep reverence in my heart as I have there,” Eli said solemnly. “It’s as if heaven itself is touching the ground, and I am surrounded by it.”
Pekah smiled politely, but did not comment.
Jonathan observed and listened. The temple in Hasor, a place of teaching and worship, did not have a sacrificial altar. His thoughts drifted back to the days when he had traveled with his father and mother to make sacrifices at the temple in Ramathaim. At least twice a year, they would make the long day’s journey to the Uzzahite city for that purpose. The trip was easy, usually uneventful, and the family always enjoyed spending the time together. After the accident when his mother had passed away unexpectedly, Jonathan and his father still made the trip together, even though it saddened them to go without her.
Now that Father is gone…
Jonathan was almost unaware of his audible sigh. Both Eli and Pekah regarded him with concern. He noticed their gaze, and realized they’d heard him. Putting the memories out of his mind, he kicked a small rock with the side of his boot, sending it skipping through a bush. It startled a bird in the trees above.
Now stopped, Eli stepped closer, threw his arm around Jonathan’s shoulder, and gave him a slight squeeze. “I’m so sorry.”
Pekah offered a thin smile.
“Thank you both for understanding. I’m saddened by the thought of traveling alone the next time I go to offer sacrifice. No offense intended, Eli, but I’m not looking forward to it.”
Eli turned to Pekah to explain. “Jonathan and Samuel would always come to stay with my family for a few days so they could spend time at the temple.”
“Yes, our trips were always a family occasion. It won’t be the same with my father gone,” Jonathan said as they resumed their journey. “But I know he has found peace in the arms of the Promised One.”
“Yes, he has,” added Eli. “I’m sure of it.”
Pekah brushed a low-hanging branch away from his head. “I don’t mean any disrespect, Jonathan, but tell me more of this Promised One. Is He the same who should come and rule? How is it that you’re sure the king is with Him?”
Jonathan slowed his pace and raised an eyebrow at hearing Pekah call his father “king.” He didn’t expect such an admission from a Gideonite. He dismissed it, however, and answered the question sincerely.
“Yes, Pekah,” he replied. “The Promised One is the same as the One who will come and rule in righteousness. He is the True Great King. He is also The One Who Would Suffer. Do you know of Whom I speak?”
“Yes-my mother taught me of this Great King.”
“Did she teach you He would suffer and die?”
“I don’t recall hearing that, but she said that one day a Great King would come and He would heal the sick and unite the tribes into one people. There are many among the Gideonites who believe this, but I didn’t know He would die.”
“Pekah, we call the Great King ‘The One Who Would Suffer’ because He will suffer pains and sorrows, and will be put to death by cruel and wicked men. Before Father Noah died and entered into his eternal rest, he told Daniel that the Promised One will not be of this world, but one far away. There are many worlds under the Creator’s care, and our world is but one of an innumerable host of them. He also said there will be a sign given when the Great King has been born, and this sign will point our eyes and our hearts to His mortal home in the heavens. After He fulfills His mortal time, He will die, but will be raised up with new life, never to die again. Then He will come to rule and reign among us for a time, here on Gan. He will visit all of His kingdoms, because He cherishes them all.”
Jonathan glanced sideways at Pekah, whose expression was earnest.
“I had no idea, Jonathan. I have never considered that the Great King would not be a man born among us. You say He lives in the heavens, and yet will find His way to our world?”
“Yes.”
Pekah paused. “Why will He die?”
Jonathan gathered his thoughts. The three men stopped underneath an immense oak tree and felt the mid-morning breezes whisk around them, rustling the leaves above. Azure and Aqua were now fully eclipsing, burning brightly together in the sky, and the shade felt good to Jonathan. Hearing water, he noticed that the trail had brought them close to the bubbling stream of the night before, but here the stream ran much slower and larger, having been joined somewhere by other sources.
“The answer to that question could be a long one. Do you mind if we stop to get a cool drink?” Jonathan asked.
They left the trail and drank, then refilled their water skins before returning to the shade of the tree, feeling refreshed. Jonathan saw that Pekah patiently waited for the conversation to continue, and he cleared his throat and began again.
“He will die for us. We sacrifice to remind ourselves that He will one day provide a lasting sacrifice, that we might live again.”
“We will live again, like Him?”
“Yes. The Great King will take up His body again, and He promises the same for us. Our bodies will then be whole. They will be immortal.”
Pekah frowned. “I have heard Him called the Holy One before, but I don’t understand. If He is holy, why will He do this?”
“You mean, because we are not holy like Him?”
“Yes.”
“Let me try again. We die, and we sin. The Great King will not sin, and yet He will die in the flesh and then live again that we might have mercy. He does it because He is merciful. Does that make sense?”
Pekah nodded.
“Not only that, but He claims all justice by this act. Justice and mercy-He claims them both. This way, we can come to Him, fully justified by Him, and find our rest, if we are willing to ask for His mercy. We will live again to stand before Him, to be judged of our actions in this life.”
Pekah was thoughtful. “Tell me more. How does this mercy come?”
“Let’s walk.” Worried about the time, Jonathan motioned toward the trail and took the lead.
Eli broke in at that point. “We are obedient. When we do wrong, we make it right. But we must covenant with the Great King that we will follow Him. He expects us to do as He will do. But to truly make claim on this mercy, there must be water, and blood, and spirit.”
Pekah scratched his head, obviously very confused. “What do you mean by water, blood, and spirit? I have never heard such a thing before.”
“Eli, may I?” Jonathan inserted.
Eli nodded.
“Under priestly authority, water is where we make our covenant. We lay down our body in the water, and promise ourselves to the Holy One. He then raises us up, a new creature. Blood is where the price of mercy is paid. The sacrifice of clean, unblemished animals shows us the price He will pay. It is by His blood that we will find mercy. By our covenant and commitment to do His will, we are His forever. And then if we do these things, we will feel the Spirit of God purging all desire to sin from our hearts. We will know for ourselves the love He has for all His creations. This is why He will die.”
Pekah was silent.
“You seem perplexed,” Jonathan observed.
“I’ve felt some of these feelings before in my life. My mother taught me about the Great King. Somehow, I think I have always known she was right. I felt this way when you and I talked by the stream-I felt my burdens lifted as we made our oath of peace and buried the weapon of Sachar. Is that the mercy to which you refer?”
Jonathan felt warmth in his soul. “Yes. That is exactly what I am talking about.”
“I think I understand. But…”
Jonathan pressed him to finish.
Pekah’s gaze fell, and he stopped walking. “I’m embarrassed to ask.” He stared off into the trees.
How can I help him? Jonathan silently prayed. I must not have explained it very well. Father was so much better at this than I am. Then an idea came to him-Pekah wasn’t confused about the Great King or why He died. He moved next to Pekah so he could see his face.
“This covenant can be made by any man or woman… or a Gideonite soldier who wishes to repair wrongs,” Jonathan said.
Pekah’s eyes went wide. “How did you know what…?” he stammered. He could not even finish the question.
“Sometimes I get ideas, especially when I pray. The Great King teaches me what to say and do. He loves you, Pekah. I have no explanation other than that.”
Tears filled the Gideonite’s eyes. He turned away to wipe them.
Jonathan stepped back to stand by Eli, who seemed pleased. He waited for Pekah to compose himself.
“Thank you,” Pekah said as he faced them.
Jonathan wondered if he wanted to talk more, but Pekah began walking again. Jonathan patted Eli on the shoulder, and the two of them followed.
The morning passed with very little conversation, each man lost in his own thoughts as they went along. Jonathan tried not to dwell on memories of his family, but couldn’t help it. Even the simplest of things-the sound of a bee, a green sapling leaning next to a fallen log, a round rock displaced from the stream-reconnected him to nearly forgotten experiences of long ago. Some of the memories brought back the loneliness he had felt at the passing of his mother. Others, like the memory of felling trees with his father for their winter store, strengthened him.
When they finally left the trail for a rest, it was mid-day. Jonathan was starting to get hungry. He attempted to suggest that they eat, but stopped short when he noticed the strange look on Pekah’s face. Before Jonathan could ask him what he was thinking, he spoke.
“I feel as if my eyes have been shut all of my life, and have just opened… it’s as though I’m seeing the light of day for the very first time. I think my mother tried to explain all of this to me, but just didn’t know how.” He looked at Jonathan, then at Eli, and then back again, his grin widening. “What must I do?”
“I believe you have been well taught by your mother. She sounds like a very special woman. Have you thought about what we discussed?”
Pekah nodded. “I have. When I remember the things I learned as a child, everything you have told me makes perfect sense. I want to make things right. But I need help. I need His mercy.”
Jonathan searched Pekah and found his expression earnest, sincere. “You may make this covenant. It’s your choice.”
Eli leaned to peer around Pekah, his red beard stretched into a grin. “There’s some water!”
Pekah acknowledged the unspoken suggestion with an eager nod. “May I?” he said.
“If you desire,” Jonathan confirmed.
“I do. Can Eli do this for me, as a priest of the temple? I assume these things must be done properly.”
“I can, Pekah.” Eli answered. “But so can Jonathan. He too is a priest, and on the day he is made king, he will become the High Priest of Daniel.”
Pekah did not hesitate to voice his wish.
At first uncomfortable with the request because of his lingering grief, Jonathan inwardly acknowledged that he was beginning to feel a bond with the Gideonite. “I would be honored,” he said.
The three of them again left the trail and went to the river in search of a suitable pool of water. Finding no part of the river to be deep enough, they decided to follow it downstream, in the direction of their journey toward Ain. They hiked along the riverbank for a while, and it became apparent that unless they could find a large boulder in the current, or another joining stream, there would just not be enough water. They continued. The river followed the general course of the trail, and although their progress slowed somewhat on account of brush, rocks, and the occasional fallen tree, they still enjoyed the journey and felt no reason to rush.
Their patience soon paid off, and they found another stream joining the river, coming from the north hills and dumping into the river at a ninety-degree angle. Here, the water deepened considerably, and as luck would have it, there were also some sizable boulders to be found near the juncture. Near one particular rock, the water swirled, creating a pool which appeared at least mid-thigh deep. They decided to give it a try. They removed their weapons, sacks, and other items they did not wish to get wet, then gingerly stepped into the cold water, shivering as they did. The water soon became bearable as they adjusted, and just as suspected, the pool was a perfect depth.
As they stood in the rolling river, Jonathan asked if he could pray. He then implored the Great Creator to accept the covenant Pekah was about to make, and asked that the Holy Spirit would be present.
He finished the prayer, took a deep breath, and placed his left arm on his new friend’s shoulder.
“Pekah,” Jonathan said with authority, after raising his right arm. “Do you covenant to serve the Great King of Heaven the remainder of your days upon Gan, and to keep His commandments, that He might bless you with the Holy Spirit?”
“Yes, I will, and I do,” Pekah answered.
“Then, having authority from the Almighty God of all the Heavens, and in accordance with the covenant which you have made, I baptize you by water so that your sins may be forgiven, and so you may eventually be granted eternal life, through the redemptive power of the Great Sacrifice of the Great King who will come, who was prepared for that purpose before the foundation of this world.”
Jonathan took Pekah by the hand, then lowered him into the clear, cold pool of the river, bringing him up again, wet from head to toe. Pekah sputtered from the shock of the water, but glowed with joy. Tears joined the water streaming from the black hair on his forehead. Eli grabbed him up, squeezing him nearly to death and causing him to gasp. They laughed together.
The three of them stumbled back to the bank of the river amid the rocks and currents, Eli providing much of the strength to keep the others from slipping. Pekah shivered almost uncontrollably, yet grinned all the time with excitement. “You have made me very happy,” he said. “I cannot recall the last time I felt this wonderful!” His teeth chattered as he spoke.
All three men removed their wet shirts and pants and wrung out as much excess water as they could. Using large rocks found along the bank, they laid the clothing out to dry in the suns-light. Rays from Aqua and Azure chased away the cold prickles on their skin and helped to dry their undergarments while they took time to eat their mid-day meal.
“I hope we’ll arrive in Ain before our food supply runs out,” Jonathan mentioned as they ate. “It would be best to be there by tomorrow evening.”
“I don’t mind walking a little faster,” Eli said.
“And we have to find Rachel,” Jonathan said. “Perhaps along the way we’ll find some game to replenish our provisions. There are also farms all around the city. Surely we’ll find someone who can share a meal.”
Pekah’s blank expression made Jonathan realize they had never mentioned Rachel in his presence. Choosing now to share their true purpose for going to Ain, Jonathan explained that Rachel was his betrothed wife and Eli’s sister, and that they intended to find her.
“How do you think we can locate her, without being captured?” Pekah asked, concerned.
“We have to try,” Jonathan replied. He glanced over to see Eli looking off into the sky. Eli’s gaze lowered when he noticed Jonathan staring.
“Just thinking about Uzzah,” he replied to Jonathan’s questioning look. “Father and Mother will both be crushed if anything happens to Rachel.”
Jonathan nodded sympathetically. Pekah appeared to be confused once again, and asked who Uzzah was. Eli cleared his throat, his eyes moist.
“Uzzah is my little brother. When I was thirteen, he was almost twelve. We were in the Hara Mountains with my father looking for some sheep that had strayed from the flock. We split up. I never saw my brother again.” Eli could say no more.
“Hundreds from the city helped the family search for him,” Jonathan added. “They never found his body. To this day, the family doesn’t know what happened to him. They assume he fell into a ravine, or was taken by wolves.”
“I am very sorry to hear it,” Pekah said.
Eli wiped his eyes, but offered no further comment. With nothing more to say, Jonathan broke off another chunk of bread. They ate in silence.
After they had eaten, they found their clothing to be mostly dry. They each dressed, and then retrieved supplies and weapons. The only one with armor, Pekah also strapped on his leather breastplate. Before they left, Jonathan walked toward a dead oak tree where he had spied a sturdy branch sagging within easy reach, just thick enough for him to get his large hands comfortably around it. He pushed with all his weight. The trunk shivered as the branch split away, making a deep, booming crack that echoed through the trees. Although Eli was skilled enough with a bow, a thick walking staff would suit him better if they were to get into a fight. Jonathan handed the broken limb to Eli, who accepted it eagerly.
“Thank you!”
“My pleasure. It ought to keep you busy.”
Eli winked at Jonathan. He took the dagger from his belt and used it to lop off the remaining twigs, producing a rough, but usable “stick,” as he called it. “I can finish it as we walk,” he said.
The men then left the river and returned to the trail winding through the trees. They marched at a good pace for several hours and talked about various things, none of which were very important, but it helped to pass the time. While they traveled, Jonathan watched with interest as Eli used a smaller boot knife to whittle down the sharp ends of his stick. Eli also removed the bark and rough knots on the limb, making it smooth. By the time Jonathan noticed the long shadows of late afternoon around them, Eli’s walking staff was a work of art. Although the rounded surface had a slight natural curve to it, the now-carved branch proved to be very strong and sturdy.
Eli claimed he could not have found a better specimen if he had tried. As they traveled, he occasionally tested its strength by hitting dead branches upon the trees lining the trail, easily shattering them. After a few finishing touches to the surface of the staff, Eli sheathed his knife.
The heat of mid-afternoon was now well upon them, causing their pace to slow considerably as the trees thinned along the trail. The sound of the river, all but lost to them now, made Jonathan suspect it had taken a turn to the north. They discussed theories as to where the waterway had gone, but were not overly concerned, knowing the river would eventually meet up with them again.
About half an hour later, as they had predicted, the river came close enough to smell and hear, and just ahead of them, the simple forest trail drastically changed. They could see the path widen, being joined by a cart-road from the south which rose over a hill covered in wild flowers and grasses.
Pekah stopped walking. “Not far from here is a pass to the city of Gilad. Being this close to Gideon makes me a little nervous. I didn’t know we would find this particular road-I thought we were farther north than this.”
Jonathan pointed to the road in the distance. “This road goes to Ain?”
“Yes. I have traveled it before, although not all the way into the city.”
Jonathan’s brow furrowed, and he sighed with some frustration. “I’m not sure how to proceed, Pekah. If we take this road, there are sure to be Gideonite soldiers on it, and we’ll be found.”
Eli cleared his throat and motioned in the direction of the river. “What if we cross the water and continue west from there?”
The three of them debated their ability to re-cross later if the river deepened, but in the end, they all agreed it was a prudent thing to do. They left the trail before the road joined it and waded into the river at the shallowest part they could see. It took them some time to cross because of the current, but they did so safely.
Once on the other side, they found the area north of the river to be a bit more forested, yet still passable, even though there were no trails. Progress was slow at first, but their pace improved as they got used to navigating the thick timber. After many hours of strenuous hiking, they were rewarded with a good camping site for the night, just as the suns fell below the eastern horizon. The grassy glade before them proved to be even more secluded than the site they had used the night before, and far enough from the road on the other side of the river that they were certain any travelers from Gilad to Ain would neither hear them nor see them.
They made their camp as comfortable as possible with cut pine boughs for bedding, and then took time to eat a peaceful end-of-Sabbath meal, after a prayer together. Dusk turned into night while they ate. Before retiring, they stoked the fire high to keep any animals in the area from disturbing them.
Pekah was the last one still awake. He reflected on the day, immensely grateful for the peace he now felt. Staring into the night sky, he enjoyed seeing the three sister moons rise and begin to cross the sky in typical grandeur. The beauty of the procession and the face which they made went unnoticed by the sleepers. The sight of the moons made him smile.
In contrast to the previous night, and with his soul no longer aching, Pekah drifted off. During the early morning hours when the fire had dwindled to nothing more than low embers, he began to dream.