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      • 5. Finding Life in the Face of Death
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      • Prologue
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      • Prologue
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Category Archives: Temptations of the Cross

The Temptation of Gabriel

06 Wednesday Nov 2013

Posted by Bert Amsing in Temptations of the Cross

≈ 2 Comments

“It is time.  I will wait no longer.”

He circled around slowly like a wolf stalking his prey.  Power emanated from his eyes, reaching out like a dark mist to choke and destroy.  His eyes were locked in sync with the eyes of Gabriel.  Their swords were drawn, neither giving quarter, but the truth lurked in the corners of Gabriel’s mind.  He could not win.  Lucifer was too strong.

The last days had been a whirlwind of treachery and battle.  Already a third of the angels had gone over.  Now Lucifer had chosen Gabriel as his next victim.  To convert him or destroy him. 

And Heaven was silent. 

That was the greatest mystery of all.  As if the Almighty had something more important to do, something impossible to create, a new beginning to introduce into existence. Gabriel had heard the rumors.  There was to be a new creation.  Sun, moon and stars.  But the greatest whispering among the heavenly hosts had to do with the Children of Dust.  What wondrous news was this?  But here, now, this felt like an ending not a beginning.  He didn’t know what to do.

A low, guttural wheeze came from Lucifer as he regained his breath.  “I gave you a choice.  I did not give you an eternity to make it,” he said.  “But then again, you always were weak.”  His taunts bothered Gabriel not at all.  He only needed an opening.

Gabriel lowered his sword just a bit and let Lucifer circle more to his side, drawing the attack.  But even then, he barely avoided the edge of Lucifer’s sword as he attacked from his blind side.  Gabriel parried, jumping out of reach and then back in close with an attack of his own.  The ringing of steel as their swords met echoed throughout the heavens but they were alone, no crowds to cheer them on, a desperate and lonely battle that Gabriel was now sure he would lose.

But not before he drew blood. 

His sword flashed in low to cut Lucifer’s feet out from under him, but his brother was already in the air and slashing down at Gabriel’s exposed neck.  Gabriel fell forward rolling and flipping his feet over his head to land, crouched and ready for the next attack.

Lucifer was more powerful than any other, for his position in the heavenly realms was second only to the Almighty himself.  He was the Keeper of the Glory of the Throne of God and in that was his downfall.  He wanted the glory for himself.  That seed of desire had grown into the treachery of rebellion and heaven found itself at war. 

Gabriel could not win and Lucifer knew it.  The swordplay itself was part of the deeper battle within.  Gabriel had a decision to make, a side to take.  The battle provided the pressure to decide without thinking, to act based on doubt and fear, or just self-preservation.  The silence of heaven did not help matters.  There was nowhere to turn for help.  It was his decision to make, and his alone. 

But even in the sweat of battle, Gabriel knew that there was no decision to make.  There was no choice.  That, too, was part of Lucifer’s deception.  He promised freedom.  He promised power.  Neither was of any interest to Gabriel. 

He gritted his teeth and charged back into danger.  He wanted to get in close and do some damage before he met his end.  His sword flashed and with lightning speed he thrust and parried with such energy and power that Lucifer was taken by surprise and gave way.  Gabriel would not let up and was after him in a moment. 

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, anger and impatience flashing from under dark brows. He seemed to grow even more menacing, as if he had been holding back, and bore down on Gabriel without mercy.  With a sudden thrust and slash of his dark sword, Lucifer cut Gabriel to the quick and his sword arm was useless.  Gabriel backed up quickly, one hand over his wound, his sword dragging.  Lucifer smiled and began to circle once again, still wary of some last attempt by Gabriel. 

Gabriel was ready.  There was nothing left to do.  His soul cried out into the void of heaven, seeking his Father but there was nothing.  For a moment, the black darkness of despair swept over him.  It engulfed him and left him cold and unfeeling.  There was no point.  Why was he fighting so hard?  Nobody cared.  He was alone.  Heaven was silent.  There was nothing left for him to fight for.  There was no point in being destroyed because of his loyalty.  Why should he suffer because heaven would not fight?  He was utterly and entirely alone. 

“No-o-o.”  The cry exploded from his throat with the force of his anguish.  “No.  I will not turn.”  He stood up straighter and looked Lucifer in the eye.  Alone or not, abandoned or not, his heart belonged to his Father.  He would be destroyed before he would turn.

Lucifer’s gaze was intent, penetrating, curious. 

Why didn’t Lucifer attack?  A glimmer of hope began to crowd out the despair.  Something else was going on.  Gabriel was sure of it.  Again his heart cried out, but again, there was nothing.  Nothing……except a still, small voice in the depths of his soul.  He stilled his breathing so as to hear better, but the voice made no sense. 

“Your trumpet plays best without a sword in your hand,” the voice whispered.

Gabriel did not understand but he knew that voice.  He dropped his sword and reached over his shoulder to take his trumpet.  He winced as the wound in his arm reminded him of his peril.

Lucifer looked at him bemused.  “There is no one to call.  Your trumpet will do you no good.  You are alone, no one will come.”

“Then you won’t mind if I play one last song, will you?”  Gabriel said quietly.  The idea had come to him that instant.  He didn’t know what he would play, but the desire to play his trumpet and sing for his Father, the Majesty upon the Throne, was strong within him. 

“Close your eyes.” The voice came to him clearer now.  “Pay him no mind.”

 Gabriel obeyed, closed his eyes and waited for Lucifer to attack.  After a moment he slowed his breathing, took a deep breath, and straightened his back.

“Play what is in your heart,” the voice said.  “Find the song you were created to sing.”

Gabriel raised the trumpet but hesitated, and then stopped.  The pain in his arm seemed to intensify, his strength failing him.  He could hardly lift the trumpet to his lips.  His breathing became shallow; his eyes were still closed, his heart squeezing with dread as he felt a presence close behind him.  Then he shivered as the icy breath of Lucifer came upon his neck and he heard him whispering softly, with unholy insistence in his ear.

He tore his mind away; keeping his eyes tightly closed and put the trumpet to his lips once again.   He could not think, he could hardly catch his breath much less come up with a song, but he could obey.

“Breath deeply and relax,” the voice said.  “We will begin together.”  The sound of heavenly music filled the air around them and Lucifer’s whispers receded and his cold presence no longer dominated the back of Gabriel’s neck and mind. 

Gabriel took his trumpet and breathed out a sound, a beginning, a seeking out of the deepest desires of his heart.  His trumpet rose stronger with yearning and then dropped to a whisper of longing.  And he began his song.

 

Lord, I worship you.

I glorify your holy name

The sun and moon and stars

Your wonders, I proclaim.

 

This was the desire of his heart.  To worship the Majesty.  That was enough.  It was more than enough.

 

Lord, I worship you.

You alone are worthy, Lord.

King of all the earth.

Lord I worship you.

 

His heart filled with a wondrous joy.  It was so natural, so much a part of him that his song took flight by itself.

 

To your Majesty, I will ever lift my voice

And in you I will rejoice for all you’ve done for me.

To your Majesty, I’ll lift up holy hands.

In your presence I will stand through all eternity.

 

And in that moment, he was in the presence of his Father, in the throne room of the Almighty, filled with the light of his Glory.  Gabriel’s eyes were open now and his trumpet took on a life of its own and filled the throne room with its beautiful sound. 

Then he sang again, his heart swelling with a strange emotion.  And the seraphim sang softly with him.

 

To your Majesty, I will ever lift my voice

And in you I will rejoice for all you’ve done for me.

To your Majesty, I’ll lift up holy hands.

In your presence I will stand through all eternity.

 

And again, his trumpet filled the halls of heaven with sound, quieter now, as the seraphim sang the heart of his song one last time. 

 

Lord, I worship you.

 

Gabriel took a deep breath, content and aglow with a strange feeling.  The voice within came and filled his mind with wonder, describing what he was feeling, this new sensation, this new glory.  Love.  He looked toward the throne, a question in his eyes, and the Majesty smiled and said, “It is so.”  But the name of it in the heavenly tongue can not be described other than to say that the seraphim began to weep whenever they heard it spoken. 

After a long pause, Gabriel spoke.

“And what of Lucifer?”  He looked around for the dark shadow that had hounded him for so long.

“He has been cast down,” said the Majesty. 

“Is it over, then?”

“No.” The Majesty spoke again.  “It has only just begun.”

“How will it all end?”

There was no answer, only silence.  Gabriel had the distinct impression that the Majesty had put certain plans in motion but it was not the time to speak of them.  Gabriel was at peace.  All was as it should be.  He glanced down at his wound which had been completely healed.  He picked up his sword which was still lying at his feet, sheathed it and stood up. 

The Majesty motioned for him to stand on the right side of the throne.  He saw Michael, his younger brother, on the left side, his wings spread out.  Gabriel took his place and spread out his wings as well, almost touching the wings of Michael, creating a canopy behind the Majestic King of Heaven, and now of Earth as well.

It will end as it has begun, Gabriel decided, with the Majesty upon the throne and the power of Lucifer broken.  How, and when, and at what cost was another matter altogether.

 

*****

The Temptations of the Cross by Bert A. Amsing
Copyright © 2012 by vanKregten Publishers.  All rights reserved.
http://www.desertwarrior.net    info@desertwarrior.net
Footnotes and references included in original manuscript.

To Your Majesty by Phil Driscoll.  All rights reserved by the author/songwriter.

 

Memories from the Past 8

30 Friday Nov 2012

Posted by Bert Amsing in Memories from the Past, Temptations of the Cross

≈ 1 Comment

Jubal slipped out of the crowd.  This was the proof they needed.  This would be the end of the Rabbi Gamaliel and of Benjamin.  He grit his teeth.

I am not the betrayer.  They have betrayed us.  They have shamed us.

He made his way to the palace of the High Priest where he was to meet with Akbar again.  Benjamin had not seen him.  He had made sure of that.  Benjamin had been a friend but no longer.  They had talked of the war just that morning and Benjamin had seemed normal.  But Akbar was right, he had changed and for the worse.

They needed to be dealt with immediately before they spread their poison even more.  How could the Almighty God bless their battle against Rome if there was sin in the camp?  It must be removed.

There is no forgiveness without the shedding of blood.  Another ancient truth about to be fulfilled.

*****

Click here to read more……..

The Temptations of the Cross by Bert A. Amsing
Copyright ©2012 by vanKregten Publishers. All rights reserved.
http://www.desertwarrior.net    info@desertwarrior.net

Footnotes and references included in original manuscript.

Memories from the Past 7

29 Thursday Nov 2012

Posted by Bert Amsing in Memories from the Past, Temptations of the Cross

≈ Leave a comment

The old sleep lightly, as Benjamin obviously had forgotten, and for the last few minutes Gamaliel had been awake, though with his eyes closed and his breathing deep, listening to the teaching of his grandson.

He began to stir as if he had just awakened and all the eyes of the people turned to him, even Benjamin who had stopped in mid-sentence.

“Carry on, my son,” Gamaliel said, “I am fascinated with your story about Peter the fisherman and his teaching in the Temple.”

The look on Benjamin’s face was worth it.  So few real pleasures are left in life but that was one to treasure.

But he saw alarm on many faces in the crowd.  They didn’t know if he was angry or not.  Benjamin had used his presence as a cover for his own teaching, authenticating it by having him near, even if he was asleep.  As Benjamin stumbled to give a mixture of apology and explanation, Gamaliel waved him to silence.

“Did you know,” he said, “that Peter spoke right over there on those steps with the Temple full of people from all parts of the world?  The colors and pageantry of so many cultures and languages were especially high that year.  It seemed that the whole world had come to Yerushalayim.  It has never been quite the same since.  I was there.  That was more than thirty years ago.  A lifetime.”

Benjamin was wise enough to let his grandfather carry on with the story.   The crowd shifted and murmured for a while but settled down as Gamaliel began to speak.

Gamaliel was not a total fool and he spoke about that day without teaching, without commentary.  He merely told the story.  What harm could come of that?  No one would be able to accuse him of heresy.  He was too old to change his ways, anyway.

It was a weak argument.  There was danger even to be associated with a follower of the Christ, especially a teacher of the heresy, as Benjamin so clearly was.  This would be no exception.

Perhaps it was his old age that made him heedless of the danger, or perhaps it was this new hunger for some truth he could cling to while his world fell apart around him.  Gamaliel didn’t know.  His heart was sick and that was all.  And yes, there were the people, he couldn’t forget them.  They, too, needed answers.

“And now,” Gamaliel said, as he ended his story, “it is time to rest.  You must all go now and leave this old man to make his way back home.  I may arrive just in time to come back for the evening sacrifice.”

The people smiled at his humor for he would shuffle very slowly with many stops before he would reach his home.  This daily routine in the Temple was a true pilgrimage for the old man and the people loved him for it.

*****

Click here to read more…….

The Temptations of the Cross by Bert A. Amsing
Copyright © 2012 by vanKregten Publishers. All rights reserved.
http://www.desertwarrior.net    info@desertwarrior.net

Footnotes and references included in original manuscript.

Memories from the Past 6

28 Wednesday Nov 2012

Posted by Bert Amsing in Memories from the Past, Temptations of the Cross

≈ Leave a comment

Shalamar watched as Benjamin sat quietly beside his grandfather, Gamaliel, smiling and nodding to the other Rabbis who hurried about their business in the Temple.

He watched the people start to gather with a rustling of robes and murmured greetings as they sat at the feet of the great Rabbi.

These were the common people, men and women alike, even children.  They sat in subdued silence, huddled together and leaning forward as Benjamin began to speak in whispers of the Rabbi Yeshua and the miracles he had performed and the salvation that he brought to all people.

For weeks already, Benjamin had been teaching the people every morning while Gamaliel slept.  When the Rabbi began to stir and open his eyes, he would see the people around him with eyes full of love and understanding for his old age, waiting for him to speak.  Gamaliel would compose himself, clearing his throat and shifting his robe into a more comfortable position and then begin to teach them until it was time for noon prayers.

The people loved his simple and heartfelt teachings, although not all ears were friendly.

Benjamin would have a simple meal ready for them of flat loaves of unleavened bread and cheese and a small flask of wine to quench their thirst and later they would pray once again and then return to their home.  It was a routine that they were both comfortable with.

Until today.

*****

Click here to read more……

The Temptations of the Cross by Bert A. Amsing
Copyright © 2012 by vanKregten Publishers. All rights reserved.
http://www.desertwarrior.net    info@desertwarrior.net

Footnotes and references included in original manuscript.

Memories from the Past 5

27 Tuesday Nov 2012

Posted by Bert Amsing in Memories from the Past, Temptations of the Cross

≈ Leave a comment

“They’re using your name.”

“Are you sure?”

“Saul is claiming that he has your permission.  They have already arrested him.  He will be put to death if you do not return immediately.  You could be there by nightfall.”

Gamaliel paused to think.  Beth-lehem was only a few hours away from Yerushalayim if he could get a ride in one of the carts that were constantly going to the market in the city.  But could he do anything now?  He doubted it.  It was too late.  The damage was done.

“Why did you come to tell me this?”

Onkelos just looked at him.  He was a Greek, a proselyte who wanted to study the Law.  He was a gentle and good man.

“I am sorry.  Thank you, my friend.  Rest tonight and we will go in the morning to see what can be done.”

Onkelos looked at him a moment longer, unwilling to say what both of them were thinking.  Tomorrow may be too late.

*****

Click here to read more…….

The Temptations of the Cross by Bert A. Amsing
Copyright © 2012 by vanKregten Publishers. All rights reserved.
http://www.desertwarrior.net    info@desertwarrior.net

Footnotes and references included in original manuscript.

The Old Man in the Temple 8

27 Tuesday Nov 2012

Posted by Bert Amsing in Temptations of the Cross, The Old Man in the Temple

≈ 1 Comment

Benjamin loved Yerushalayim.

He truly did.

It wasn’t just the beauty of her walls as they reflected the light of the morning sun or the quiet tranquility of the Temple mount – a place of holiness and peace for him still.  It was something deeper.

The ancient poetry of his people said it best:

 

 

Yahweh is great and supremely to be praised

in the city of our God,

the holy mountain, beautiful where it rises,

joy of the whole world;

Go through Zion, walk around her,

counting her towers, admiring her walls,

reviewing her palaces;

Then tell the next generation

that God is here,

our God and leader, forever and ever.

Benjamin had been aware of a yearning in his heart ever since he began to study the Torah at the feet of his grandfather, Gamaliel.  He thought of the moisture in his grandfather’s eyes whenever he spoke about the holy city.

One day he began to read some of the forbidden manuscripts circulating among the followers of Yeshua of Nazaret.  He tried asking subtle questions of his grandfather in order to confirm the stories but received only vague answers in return.

It was dangerous to even speak about these heretics so he had to be careful and indirect in his discussions with his grandfather.  But, even so, it was not enough.  Benjamin decided to seek the followers of Yeshua out.

It took a few days.  He was the grandson of the Rabbi Gamaliel, after all.  But Natan´el, one of the original disciples of Yeshua, firmly convinced the fellowship to allow this young man full of holy curiosity to be a part of them, an observer if that’s all he wanted.  Even though it was dangerous.

There was something about Natan´el.  He had been with the Rabbi Yeshua and Benjamin had a difficult time leaving his side.  He wandered through the streets with him, feeding the poor, encouraging the faint hearted, discussing and arguing gently over the stories about Yeshua.  Always itseemed to be about Yeshua.

Although these people were simple and had no great book learning, they had something that Benjamin wanted with all his heart.  But what it was exactly, he couldn’t put his finger on.

One night, Natan´el finally told him the story of those last days, that final Passover, the shame and horror of the cross.  It was all true.  He wept.  Yerushalayim had been visited by her God and had rejected Him.

Natan´el paused in the telling of his story, but finally he raised his head.  “Benjamin, the story is not yet at an end.  The best is yet to come, and your life will never be the same.”

“What -?”

“You will complete your mission in Yerushalayim and then you will be sent to another place to speak of the things you have heard this night.”  Natan´el’s eyes looked off into a far distance as he spoke into existence Benjamin’s future.

“You must follow the Yerushalayim oracle through the dark and dangerous days ahead for that is your path –”

“The Yerushalayim oracle. . .?”

“– and at a time and in a moment not expected, you will enter the gates of the new Yerushalayim and all your yearning and sadness will be turned to joy.”

Benjamin sat upon the hard dirt floor.  What is he talking about?  What is this all about?  Then he heard the rest of the story, of what happened after the cross and, before the night was through, Benjamin was a new creature, reborn and alive like he had never been before.

Shalamar and his brothers celebrated with great, but quiet, joy in the holy city, as Benjamin gladly entered the spiritual battle for the soul of his grandfather, Gamaliel.

He began to pray and cry out to God earnestly and he was heard in the throne room of the Almighty.

*****

Click here to read more……

The Temptations of the Cross by Bert A. Amsing
Copyright © 2012 by vanKregten Publishers. All rights reserved.
http://www.desertwarrior.net     info@desertwarrior.net

Footnotes and references included in original manuscript.

Memories from the Past 4

26 Monday Nov 2012

Posted by Bert Amsing in Memories from the Past, Temptations of the Cross

≈ Leave a comment

Every morning Gamaliel and Benjamin went to the Temple to pray for the peace of Yerushalayim as the morning sun scattered the last vestiges of night to the far corners of the earth.

The celebration of the Passover had come upon them again and the bustle and noise of the preparations filled the city streets and the Temple courtyards.

But with the familiar sounds came the eerie sensation that this Passover would be his last.

It came upon him while he prayed, the prayer shawl over his head and his strong baritone voice lifted in the singsong sounds of early morning prayers.  It would be his last.  He would not see another.  He groped for the solid reality of the Temple wall to steady himself.

He looked upon his beloved city with tear-filled eyes that blurred the harsh corners of reality.  His heart seemed to encompass the entire city of brick and stone, cattle and people and all that it represented down through the ages.  Yerushalayim, with her great walls of stone tarnished and rubbed smooth with the brush of passing civilizations;  her towers and ramparts ablaze with the purple hues of the morning sun;  her streets and Temple courtyards busy with the sacred work of her people and priests.  Yerushalayim, the beloved city.  The city of God.

Oh God, where are you now when we need you most?  Why have you abandoned your people?

Gamaliel felt a kinship here upon the TempleMount with David and Solomon and the prophets of old.  He felt the glory and the failure of his people, the blessing and the curse of being the chosen of God and not able to bear it.

Armies would come to lay siege to her walls once again.  It had happened many times before.  The land of Isra´el was a crossroads for the great civilizations and they came to conquer and be conquered, for what they took from his land also changed them.  The Jewish people were found throughout the Roman Empire, faithful to their God and their ways – a beacon of light in a dark world, the chosen people, guardians of the Torah and the Temple worship.  But not for long.

A soft groan escaped from deep within him, the sound of it echoing faintly from the rock around him.  Onkelos had told him what the Romans planned.  It was madness, madness, but no one could stop it now but God himself.  Gamaliel no longer believed that he would.

Yerushalayim would be destroyed.

He faced it finally.  He formed the words with his lips but still he could not say them aloud.  He tried to believe that it would not happen, that Adonai Elohim would not allow it, that the Temple would be safe, the city would be spared.  But his body did not believe him and his knees threatened to give way.  He began to slump backwards, no longer caring, but Benjamin was there immediately with an arm around his skeletal shoulders, holding him erect until he finished his prayers.

“Oh, Yerushalayim,” Gamaliel cried out, “most holy of cities, would that peace be your inheritance and hope your message to the nations.  Oh, Daughters of Yerushalayim weep and cry out in sorrow for your destiny is come upon you.”

His words became prophecy as a strange conviction took hold of him.

“Yes, your destiny is come upon you.  You will survive, O Isra´el, but you will be changed, never to be the same again.”   Benjamin eased him into a sitting position on a nearby stone bench.

We seem to know a great deal about pain and suffering.  From slavery in Egypt to oppression in their own land, Isra´el played the role of victim to perfection.   But this was more.  Now, on the eve of the destruction of Isra´el, he wanted nothing more than the simplicity of clear answers and a straight path.

Gamaliel shook his head slowly from side to side as if to shake off a heavy burden.  He would celebrate this Passover like he had all the others – in his home surrounded by his family and telling the ancient story.  Someone else would have to take the burden for the beloved city upon their shoulders.  His pilgrimage was almost done.  There was little more he could do for his people.

Gamaliel sat exhausted and pensive on the hard stone bench with his back to the wall of the Temple, thinking and brooding over his beloved city until, finally, he drifted off to sleep in the warm sunshine like men of great age do the world over.

*****

Click here to read more…….

The Temptations of the Cross by Bert A. Amsing
Copyright © 2012 by vanKregten Publishers. All rights reserved.
http://www.desertwarrior.net    info@desertwarrior.net

Footnotes and references included in original manuscript.

The Old Man in the Temple 7

26 Monday Nov 2012

Posted by Bert Amsing in Temptations of the Cross, The Old Man in the Temple

≈ Leave a comment

“Was it bad, bubba?”

“They did not believe me,” Gamaliel said.  “I have failed.”

They were silent as Gamaliel shook his mind loose from the short, painful meeting.   He had not expected it to go well, but he hadn’t expected it to be such a disaster, either.

He turned his attention to Benjamin, his despair making him reckless, and he asked Benjamin a direct question.

“What is this secret you are hiding from me, my son?”

Benjamin trembled visibly, his face turning pale as he looked at his grandfather and then quickly away.

Gamaliel raised his eyebrows.  Was it so important?

Benjamin was quiet for a long time as they threaded their way slowly through the streets and Gamaliel respected his silence.

“Bubba,” Benjamin finally said, his voice tight, “I am a follower of Yeshua of Nazaret, the Maschiach.”

He went on rapidly. “The Maschiach has come and his name is Yeshua bar Joseph, descendent from David.  He was a marvelous Rabbi, but more than a Rabbi, although he was no Rabbi at all.”

Gamaliel could not help himself.  He turned away, unable to look Benjamin in the eye.  Benjamin grabbed his arm, trying to turn him around but Gamaliel freed himself and made his way to a stone bench where he could sit for a moment.

“Bubba, you have to understand. . .”

But Gamaliel sat with his hands in his lap, his head bowed, his shoulders slumped forward and he would not look at his grandson.  This was the end.  He could take no more.

Benjamin took a deep breath.

“Grandfather, Yeshua of Nazaret is the Maschiach and he died for the sins of the world.”  It sounded like a creed he was reciting.  No doubt it was.

With his eyes tightly closed, Gamaliel sat in utter darkness as he heard his beloved grandson tell his story.  And his heart died a little more at every word.

*****

Click here to read more…..

The Temptations of the Cross by Bert A. Amsing
Copyright © 2012 by vanKregten Publishers. All rights reserved.
http://www.desertwarrior.net    info@desertwarrior.net

Footnotes and references included in original manuscript.

Memories from the Past 3

25 Sunday Nov 2012

Posted by Bert Amsing in Memories from the Past, Temptations of the Cross

≈ 1 Comment

“You are not enough a sinner to find righteousness in the Maschiach.”

“Not enough a sinner?  What nonsense is that?  I have followed the Law my whole life.”   Gamaliel looked at the young man before him.  He was deadly serious.  He decided to press ahead.

“For us right living will mean this,” he said, quoting from the Torah, “to keep and observe all these commandments before Yahweh our God as he has directed us.”

The crowd nodded in agreement at the way that Gamaliel was handling this young man.   But the crowds, fickle as they were, also leaned forward to see how Stephen would respond.

Rumors followed him everywhere.  Miracles and healing and great signs seemed to cling to Stephen tenaciously, though he denied that the power was his.  Gamaliel had friends in the Synagogue of Freedmen in Alexandria and they swore that he was nothing but a troublemaker.  He had come from Cyrene for the festivities but had stirred up so much trouble that Gamaliel was asked to investigate.  So far, he wasn’t sure who had the upper hand in this discussion.

The people crowded around to hear every word.  Gamaliel could have wished for a quieter place away from the crowds to question this young man.  He wasn’t sure how much was being said for their benefit and how much he truly believed.  He was certainly a follower of Yeshua, the carpenter from Galilee, but he had such an aura of certainty and power about him that Gamaliel felt the student rather than the teacher.

Still, this last bit was going too far.  What nonsense to say that he was not enough a sinner.

“When you discover your sin, you will discover your salvation,” Stephen said, looking directly into Gamaliel’s eyes.

“Now you dare to call me a sinner?  First I am not sinner enough and now I am a sinner after all.  Which shall it be?”  Gamaliel managed to keep his tone light.

“Are we not all sinners?”

His words were smooth, gentle but they could not cover over his meaning.  This was intolerable.

“Name my sin,” Gamaliel said. “Name it here and now.”

“All sin is one and its name is not unknown.  Search your heart and you will find the name written there.”

Gamaliel leaned forward and soundly slapped Stephen’s face.  Then he took off his sandal and shook the dust from it in front of the people and rose without a word and walked away.

Saul was at his side, almost running to keep up, imprecations exploding from him every few steps.  Gamaliel strode through the crowds, his mind aflame, his pace a pounding step.  He raced down the steps and out of the porticos of the Temple.

“Isra´el would be better off without him and his kind.”

“What did you say?”  Saul touched his shoulder and Gamaliel stopped abruptly in the street, half-turning toward him.

“I said that Isra´el would be better off without him and his kind.”  His words were clipped and hard.  This was another Gamaliel, a hidden side come to light, buried beneath the exterior of righteousness.

Saul just looked at him with those piercing eyes and Gamaliel hesitated for a moment and then turned to go.  He would talk to no one about this.  He would leave the city for a few days.  He needed to think.  He would go to his family home in Beth-lehem and sort it all out there.

As he walked away, Saul stayed rooted in his place.  He stood there a moment longer and then strode away, back into the Temple to put his plans into action.

*****

Click here to read more……

The Temptations of the Cross by Bert A. Amsing
Copyright © 2012 by vanKregten Publishers. All rights reserved.
http://www.desertwarrior.net    info@desertwarrior.net

Footnotes and references included in original manuscript.

The Old Man in the Temple 6

25 Sunday Nov 2012

Posted by Bert Amsing in Temptations of the Cross, The Old Man in the Temple

≈ Leave a comment

“I believe him.  His report is true,” Gamaliel said, not for the first time.

“But that is not the issue at stake,” came the conciliatory reply.

Then what is at stake, if not the very existence of Isra´el as a nation?  No matter how many times he explained it to them, they refused to listen.  The Sanhedrin had other matters to discuss and wanted to get on with it.

“Can you not see that our whole way of life is at risk?”  Gamaliel said, his voice rising.  “The city will be destroyed; not one stone left upon another.  Our temple will be desecrated, the sacrifices will end – “

The shouts and questions that erupted in the small chamber startled Gamaliel half out of his chair.

“We have thrown the Romans out –”

“God has vindicated –”

“– does he think he is to doubt Adonai Elohim now?”

Ya´acov, the High Priest, raised a gnarled hand to command silence and then looked directly at Gamaliel.  “Do you mean to tell me, my old friend, that you believe Adonai Elohim will allow His Temple to be destroyed and His Holy City to be overrun by these pagans?”

Gamaliel’s silence was answer enough.

How could he say that Adonai Elohim had allowed it more than once before?  How could he doubt the protection of his God upon which the whole fabric of their lives depended?  But he did.  They could see it in his eyes.  The great Rabbi Gamaliel had lost his faith.

Gamaliel slumped in his seat as the talk turned to other matters.  He sat in a stupor, lost in the reflections and memories of a lifetime of walking with God that tumbled through his mind.

He didn’t even hear the discussions that condemned followers of Yeshua of Nazaret to imprisonment and severe beatings if they were caught teaching that heresy during the Passover a few days away.

*****

Click here to read more…….

The Temptations of the Cross by Bert A. Amsing
Copyright © 2012 by vanKregten Publishers. All rights reserved.
http://www.desertwarrior.net    info@desertwarrior.net

Footnotes and references included in original manuscript.

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Copyright © 2012 by vanKregten Publishers. All rights reserved. Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION ®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.

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