The Redeemer (10 page)
I don’t dare chance it. Jesus might not see me do it, but Satan would, and then he’ d probably throw me off.
At last I took a chance and looked down and wished I had grabbed hold of Jesus. I was bedazzled; a panorama of the whole earth in all of its richness and beauty spread out below.
“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Satan asked. “It’s all mine, You know.”
Jesus said nothing.
Satan put his hands on his hips and drew a circle on the ground with his hoof.
“Let’s not play games. What do You say? I know You can beat me in a fight. I’m willing to cut my losses and make a deal.”
Satan waved his arm across the vista, and thousands and thousands of human faces were superimposed over the riches of the kingdoms behind them.
“This is what you came for, isn’t it? The whole creation: kingdoms, cities, riches, and pathetic mankind, am I right?”
Jesus didn’t answer.
“I thought so. I’m the only one on the planet who knows what it’s going to cost You to get it. So, here’s what I’m offering You: it’s Yours, all of it. I’ll hand it all over to You without a fight. All You have to do is kneel down and acknowledge me as Your lord.” Satan’s eyes narrowed and flashed as his nostrils flared. “Who’s going to know? You don’t know how the thought of it excites me.”
Satan took a step closer. Jesus never flinched, but I did. I stepped back and almost fell over the edge.
“Just once,” Satan continued, “and it’s all Yours; no one ever has to find out, and best of all—no cross. You don’t have to die a brutal death to get everything You came for. Everybody wins.”
Cross? Death? Does Jesus know what you’re talking about? I don’t.
Jesus turned from looking at the world laid out before Him and locked eyes with Satan.
“Get away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve Him only.’”
A sudden burst of blinding light, and by the time I could see again, it was as if Satan had evaporated. There was no sign of him anywhere. I flexed my wings and wiggled my tail to be sure I was still in one piece. I was just about to go over and congratulate Jesus when I heard the sound of thousands of flapping wings and saw the host of heaven settling down around Him. I crawled away as quickly as I could, and when I was out of sight, I took off for the second heaven. I had to find out what happened to Satan.
S
TRANGE AS IT
may sound, I found myself worrying about Satan as I made my way back to the second heaven.
What if Jesus destroyed him? Who would be in charge? The demon gods would fight for control. The only thing worse than the second heaven with Satan would be the second heaven without him. A war among the demons would be catastrophic. No one would survive. Satan was horrible, but at least there was order.
That’s why I was relieved to learn from the guard that Satan had returned to his lair in one piece.
“He’s here but doesn’t want to meet with anyone—”
“Not a problem. I just thought I’d drop by to check in.”
“—except for you.”
“Me? I really don’t have anything important. No need to disturb him.”
“He said to send you in, so go. He’s in his parlor.”
Further protesting would have been futile, so I made my way down the corridor to the room where the guards held the door open for me to enter. I stepped in quietly to find him lying down on his sofa with an ice pack on his head.
“Your Honor? You wanted to see me?”
“I want to see your notes,” he said as he sat up and dropped the ice pack on the floor.
“Notes?”
“The notes you took of my confrontation with Adonai—Jesus. Hand them over.”
“Well, to be honest, sir, I don’t have any.”
He should have been yelling by now but wasn’t.
“You see, my prince, things happened so fast, and then you were suddenly gone, and the league of angels came down, and I got scared, and there was no time for me to write anything down.” I slumped and dropped my head in contrition. “I’m sorry. I know I let you down.”
“I’m going to let it pass this time.”
Uh oh. Satan never lets the slightest infraction pass. He’s up to something.
“Thank you, sir, and it won’t happen again.” As I turned to leave, he stepped on my tail.
“I recall the events in detail, so I will dictate what happened, and you write it down.”
He motioned me toward a chair at a table where a pen and parchment were waiting for me. I sat down and nodded that I was ready.
“This is an exact account of the meeting between Jesus and lord Satan, prince of the air, in the year
A.D.
30 in the desert outside of Jerusalem.”
He paused to see if I was keeping up. I was.
“Jesus begged Satan to allow Him to defect to his mighty army.”
“What?” The words escaped my mouth before I could stop them. Satan glared at me, and I looked down and continued to write.
“Realizing He couldn’t pay the pre-agreed-upon price for the redemption of the earth and humanity, Jesus tried to bribe Satan by offering to worship him in exchange for access to the kingdoms of the world.”
“But, you know, nothing like that happened.” I tried to stop the words, but they kept pouring out.
Satan glared at me. My claw hands were trembling so hard I could barely hold the pen. I did the best I could to keep writing.
“Refusing the bribe, Satan insisted the original contract be honored and sent Jesus, afraid and confused, back to the city to live out the insane plans of His Father.”
When I finished writing, Satan took the parchment from me and rolled it up. I laid my forehead on the conference table and wished I was dead.
“You can go now,” he dismissed me.
“But sir…” I knew it was dangerous to protest, but I had to try. “What do you plan to do with that scroll?”
“It will be part of the official record.”
“Are we keeping an official record?”
“Don’t be droll, pretending you don’t know what I mean.” He smirked. “Do you think I’m unaware of the secret diary you’ve been writing all this time?”
If I had any color in my face, I’m sure it drained right out on the floor.
How could he know? I’ve always been so careful to be sure no one ever saw me writing. I’ve hidden the completed scrolls on the earth where they’ll never be found.
“What are you planning to do with your little journal anyway?” he asked.
“Why, uh, nothing. It was just so I could, uh, remember.” I cleared my throat and tried to think of something to say. “So I could remember your great feats and victories. You know, they should be written down in case there’s ever any doubt about your role in history.”
“Be sure you write about how God was jealous of me and threw me out of heaven.”
“Got it.”
“And don’t forget to include how successful I’ve been in stealing the affection of His puny human race.”
“For sure.”
He tapped the scroll I’d just written on the table.
“And at the right time, this one will be inserted with the others.”
“Shall I take it for safekeeping, my prince?” I was hoping he would give it to me so I could be sure it was destroyed.
“No, you shall not. I’ll keep it. In the meantime, you go ahead and keep up your journaling. When I tell you to hand your little diary over to me, I’m sure you will.”
“Why, of course I will.” I tried to sound sincere.
I will eat it first.
I bowed and hoped to exit, but he still had a hoof on my tail.
“You are not dismissed. I have a new assignment for you.”
“Always at your service, master.”
“From now on I want you focused on one thing.”
“The simpler, the better. You know me, sir.” I saluted for effect.
“Do not allow Jesus to die on a cross.”
“Your Evilness, I don’t know why Adonai is on the earth, but I’m sure He has no plans to do anything like that. Who would dare try to crucify the Son of God?”
“You are so naïve. Fool, He will orchestrate it Himself.”
“Get Himself killed? But why would He do it, master? What could He hope to gain by dying? It would defeat His purpose.”
“It is His purpose,” Satan shouted as he picked the ice pack up and laid it back on his head. “Never mind. You don’t need to know. Just make sure I know His whereabouts and what He’s doing all the time.”
Satan hates Jesus. Why would he try to help Jesus avoid death? Could it be he’s trying to patch up their relationship?
“I’m anxious to help any way I can, sir, but if Jesus is planning to die on a cross, what could you do to stop Him?”
“Kill Him before He gets there.”
I
SUPPOSE
I
WASN’T
surprised Satan would have the nerve to try to kill Jesus. But his fear that Jesus planned to get Himself killed by crucifixion was impossible to believe. Why? If He was killed, what difference would it make how it happened? Was it even possible? I wasn’t sure. I needed to make a new chart to put the pieces together. I set up an easel by my perch and took out a colored pen.
Piece number one: what is Satan afraid of?
“Only one thing I know of, and it has to do with blood. Whose blood? I’ve tried to talk to him about it over the centuries when the topic of God redeeming the Jews came up, but he refuses to discuss it.”
I drew a drop of blood with a question mark by it.
Piece number two: Adonai has come to the earth in Jesus. True or false?
“I believe it because I see it, but I don’t understand it. Is He still the Son of God, or is He a human being? Can He be both? I don’t see how; although come to think of it, Nephilim are both human and supernatural.”
Piece number three: the Nephilim can be killed, at least their human body; no one knows what happens to the supernatural part.
“Maybe Jesus’ body can be killed. But what purpose would it serve? Why does Satan care how Jesus dies, as long as He does? Is it the blood of Jesus Satan fears?”
The chart was not helping. I’d always been so good at figuring out human beings. Part of my argument to convince God of how much help I could be to Him was always going to be how no one understood humans better than me. I could anticipate what they were likely to do in any given circumstance. I could help God think ahead, and He could intervene before they careened into the next disaster. But Jesus? I couldn’t solve the enigma that He was. There was only one thing to do.
“I have to go to the earth and follow Him around. That’s what Satan told me to do, although I would never help him kill Jesus. If anything, I have to warn Him.”
I left for the earth that very moment.
I went straight to the temple, thinking, where else would one expect to find the Son of God so quickly after His inaugural baptism? But He wasn’t there. Instead I found Him with a few of His friends on their way to Cana. I caught up with them and soon figured out they were going to a wedding.
I don’t know, Jesus. Do You think this is such a good idea? These Hebrew weddings can go on for days. I can think of a hundred other things more important for You to do, especially since Satan intends to have You killed. We need to make the most of every day.
When we got to the home of the bride’s parents, I was relieved to find out it was an open house format where people could come and go at will, and it wouldn’t be considered rude if someone left early. We arrived at about day three. Everybody seemed happy to see Jesus, and He was quick to make the rounds and say hello to everyone. As it turned out, Mary, His mother, had been the wedding planner, so she had been particularly anxious for Jesus to stop by. Once I realized it was probably a courtesy call to please His mom and not something Jesus would likely have done on His own, I was more at ease with how much time He was wasting greeting everyone.
I was more relieved when it seemed He didn’t plan to stay all day. After a few hours He thanked the hosts and started for the door with His friends in tow. Then suddenly His mother called for Him, and He turned back.
“Jesus,” Mary said, “there’s a problem. The bride’s family has run out of wine. You must do something.”
Mary, what are you thinking? Jesus can’t run out to the wine shop. He’s God, for heaven’s sake. How would it look?
“I’m sorry,” Jesus said, “but there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“We both know You can.”
“Sorry, Mom. It’s not My time yet. I can’t get ahead of My Father.”
“Of course. You run right along.”
Jesus resumed His exit.
“I’ll get over it. It’s just that I’m not getting any younger, and I don’t know how many of these large celebrations I have left in me.” Mary sighed deeply.
“It’s not that I wouldn’t help you if I could,” Jesus said as He turned back and gave her a quick hug.
“I know, I know. Hurry on now, save the world.”
Jesus headed toward the door.
“It’s just that I ask so very little.” Mary coughed, and Jesus looked back to see her pouting.
