Chapter 18



















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The Christ
Clone Trilogy 03 - Acts Of God
By
James Beau Seigneur

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

If Thy Right Hand Offend Thee

12:05 p.m., Thursday, August 27,4 N.A. Petra

For three days Chaim Levin, the High Priest of Israel, had not eaten or drunk
anything. Nor had he spoken. That in itself was not unusual for a rabbi seeking
to know God's will, and so he was left alone to meditate and pray. Even his
wife, Rose, did not disturb him.

No one wondered what he prayed about. They were as aware as he was of what was
happening in the world outside Petra; no one with a radio or television could
have missed it. The signs promised by Christopher were coming to pass, and very
soon the armies of the world would assemble to march on this place of God's
provision. Levin's followers in Petra wanted God's answer as much as the High
Priest did.

On the third day at about noon Chaim Levin rose to his feet, broke his fast, and
bathed. He then called for Samuel Newberg, his assistant and confidant. Newberg
was already waiting, having been notified by one of the common priests that
Levin had ended his fast.

"Sam, I want to speak to the leader of the KDT," he said straight away.

Newberg looked confused. "Rabbi, I... uh ... I don't think. . ."

Chaim Levin nodded reassuringly; he knew his request might be a bit surprising.
"It's all right, Sam, just bring him to me . . ." Noticing the expression on
Newberg's face, Levin paused as a thought occurred to him, ". . . unless you
don't think he'll come."

"No, it's not that. It's just that, well... I don't think they have a leader."

This was a possibility that Levin had not considered. He frowned as he was
struck by how little he really did know about the other residents of Petra.
Still, he wanted to talk with someone who could speak for the KDT and in their
behalf. "Is there no one who is pre-eminent among them?" he asked.

"Not since the deaths of John and Saul Cohen," Newberg answered. The High Priest
looked perplexed, and Newberg blurted out the only suggestion he could think of.
"I have heard that Cohen had a son," he said, immediately regretting the
suggestion as he realized he had no idea how to contact Cohen's son.

The High Priest stroked his beard as he quickly pondered the option. The idea
had merit. "I would like to speak with him," he said.

1:27 p.m. Jerusalem

The Resistance in Jerusalem existed for one purpose only: to assist those who
wanted to flee to Petra. As such their usefulness was nearly spent. It had been
a month since anyone from outside the country had come through Israel on their
way to Petra. Only a few in Israel did not bear Christopher's mark, and most of
them were part of the Resistance. With their work completed, the leaders of the
Resistance gathered at an abandoned kibbutz outside Jerusalem to plan their own
escape to Petra. There to meet with them was Benjamin Cohen, son of Saul Cohen,
and a member of the KDT. When the meeting concluded, Cohen's long-time friend,
Jim Carp, asked Cohen to wait. When everyone else had gone, Carp said he had
someone he wanted Cohen to meet.

"Who is it?" Cohen asked.

"My brother, Asaph," Carp answered.

"As long as I've known you, I didn't even know you had a brother. Has he just
arrived in Israel?"

"No," Carp answered. His voice revealed discomfort. "He's been in Jerusalem for
several years."

"Why have I never met him?"

"Well, it's possible you have. Actually, he changed his last name when he first
came to Israel."

"Really?" Cohen began, but before he could finish, Carp's guest came in.

Cohen was stunned. He looked back and forth between Carp and the other man. It
seemed beyond belief but before him stood Asaph ben Judah, Mayor of Jerusalem, a
man who had served for the last three and a half years as a puppet of the U.N.
occupation government, a man who on every occasion had served as Christopher's
pawn in the region. "You have betrayed us," Cohen told Carp.

"No," Carp insisted.

"Your brother is Asaph ben Judah!?" Cohen said incredulously. The resemblance
was less than obvious.

"He's changed his mind!" Carp said. "He realizes he's been wrong." Somehow
talking about ben Judah in the third person, as though he were not there with
them, made the conversation at least a little more endurable.

"He's changed his mind!" Cohen repeated, spitting out Carp's words as if they
were some vile poison. "He's changed his mind!" The idea was preposterous.

"Yes, Mr. Cohen," ben Judah said, finally joining the conversation, "I have. I
realize that I've been wrong, as do many of the people of Jerusalem."

"Well, that's all very nice," Cohen said contemptuously. "But I'm afraid you're
a little too late." Cohen cast his eyes toward ben Judah's right hand and
Christopher's number which marked it. "You made your choice! You could have
resisted. You could have left with those who went to Petra. You could have gone
into hiding like your brother." Cohen looked back at Jim Carp, still in
disbelief that the two men were related. "But you chose to go along with
Christopher Goodman. Even after he defiled the Temple and destroyed the tablets
of the law; even when he set up his image on the wall of the Temple, which was
clearly the abomination that the prophet Daniel warned about; still you went
along. You even turned against your own people, betraying them to United Nations
executioners. How many have died because of you?"

Asaph ben Judah sighed and clenched his teeth. He did not answer the question.
It did not need an answer. Even one death was too many, and in truth he did not
know the number. "All that you have said is true. I have done all these things,
and I realize it is probably too late for me. But the others . . ."

"You heard the angel's warning. They all heard it: anyone who receives the mark
will drink of the wine of God's fury, and will be tormented with burning sulfur
forever. There will be no rest for those who worship the beast and his image, or
for anyone who receives the mark of his name," he said, paraphrasing the angel's
words.

"But there must be something that can be done. Most of these people never really
rebelled against God. They took the mark only because if they had not, they
would have lost everything."

"And so they have," Cohen retorted. "They traded away their birthright as God's
chosen people for the sake of their possessions, just as Esau traded his
birthright to Jacob for a little food."

Cohen's response was not unexpected, but that made it no less difficult for ben
Judah to bear. "Please, there must be something."

"Even if I wanted to help you, there is nothing I can do. You have taken the
mark and as the angel said, you will drink of the wine of God's fury. There is
nothing in what the angel said, or anywhere in the Bible to suggest that you can
now change your mind. Just as Esau could not regain his birthright, neither can
you or the others that you represent."

"But will you not at least pray for us?" pleaded ben Judah.

"I cannot pray for the enemies of God," Cohen shot back.

"But we do not wish to be his enemies."

There was sincerity in ben Judah's voice and in his eyes. For a long moment
Cohen silently studied his face. "No," he said finally.

"I beg you to at least pray and ask God if there is anything that can be done."

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice now showing at least a hint of regret mingled
with his loathing.

"But there must be something."

"There isn't." His words had been final, but then something occurred to him. It
startled him and it was obvious to the others in the room.

"What?" asked Jim Carp.

Benjamin Cohen shook his head, dumbfounded. It was absurd, he thought. But then
perhaps it was not.

"Please, what is it?" ben Judah urged.

Cohen was not ready to answer, but he made an attempt to explain. "I do not know
if this is from God or if it is only a random thought that has passed through my
mind."

"Please, tell us."

"No," Cohen answered. "But I -will pray about it."

"May I wait while you pray?" ben Judah asked.

"If you wish. But I do not know how long it will be."

"I will wait."

Jim Carp showed Benjamin Cohen to a room where he would not be interrupted, and
then returned to wait with his brother.

Two hours passed before Cohen returned. His expression gave no hint that God had
provided him an answer. Ben Judah did not ask; he was afraid of what Cohen's
response might be. Nevertheless, the question was obvious on his face.

Cohen shook his head. "God has not chosen to answer me," he said finally. "I
still do not know if this is from God or from my own imagination, and he has not
seen fit to reveal it to me."

"Please tell me," ben Judah pleaded.

"I do not think you will like the answer."

Ben Judah waited silently.

"You must understand, what I say is not by God's command, but by his permission.
It may not be from God at all; it may be just my own wishful thinking."

"I understand."

"And you must also understand, if you choose to accept what I am about to tell
you, it is not your action that will save you. God's forgiveness cannot be
earned or bought, lest anyone should be able to boast. God's forgiveness has
been purchased at the price of his son's own life. If you do what I am about to
suggest, it is not your deed that will save you, rather it is because he has
already saved you that you will do this. Still, I do not know how it is possible
that you, bearing the mark, could be saved."

"God showed his love for us in this," ben Judah said, quoting from the fifth
chapter of the book of Romans, "that while we were yet sinners, Messiah died for
us."

Cohen stared at ben Judah, amazed that he could quote the Bible at all, much
less find an appropriate verse from the New Testament. "Perhaps then you also
know the verse in Matthew," Cohen said, '"If thy right hand offend thee, cut it
off.'"












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