Unholy Empire: Chronicles of the Host, Vol 2: Chronicles of the Host, Book 2 (15 page)

But Noah and his family were fruitful, and did according to the word of the Lord, and the earth began to replenish itself. Thus did mankind start life anew on earth. We of the heavenly Host were hopeful that men would call upon the Lord once more, but it became apparent early on that our hopes were in vain. At Babel, human pride once more affronted the Lord by men’s building a great tower, and making boasts of the accomplishments of mere men in comparison with the Almighty. And so the Lord destroyed the tower and confounded the language of men, so that from that day on, a great many languages were spoken on the earth.

Our fallen brethren continued their efforts against humanity. Not content with seeking out the promised one, they sought to imprison all of mankind in every manner of idolatry. Nations of people began to emerge, dedicating their newly founded cities and their prosperity to demon gods—fallen angels who took names such as Azazel and Belial, Shahar and Belphegor, Baal and Asmodeus. Encouraged by Lucifer, these vile spirits and many others began to incite men to worship them in great temples, sacrificing to their names in bloody spectacles, drenching their altars with innocent blood and their unholy names in disgraceful behavior. They perverted the idea of worship, performing deceptive tricks that made men think the gods were responsive to their wicked conjuring, only to find themselves dragged to perdition upon their deaths.

The holy angels could only watch as the world once more disintegrated into the rebellion that brought its previous destruction. How could the Seed come from this sinful people, bent on rebellion? But with confidence in the Holy One, and despite the haranguing of our enemy, we continued our vigilant watch—for we did not know that the Lord had already chosen, out of the land of the Chaldees, a man who would begin the greatest journey for the hope of all men that was ever to be taken.

The Lord had said to Abram,
“Leave your country, your people
and your father’s household and
go to the land I will show you.
“I will make you into a great nation and I will bless you;
I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing.
I will bless those who bless you,
and whoever curses you I will curse;
and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you.”
(Genesis 12:1-3 NIV)

“Are you certain that we have not misunderstood the Lord’s intentions regarding Abram?” asked Serus.

Gabriel and Michael looked at Serus and each other. The question was a good one, although there was clearly no misunderstanding. Abram was the man whom God had designated that they should keep. But because of the nature of men, the angels were a bit confused by what they considered Abram’s often erratic behavior.

Here was a man—called by the Most High Himself into a wonderful relationship—who had panicked when a famine hit; lied about his wife to the ruler of Egypt, passing her off as his sister to protect his own life; and given his nephew Lot a portion of the land that God had given to him. This same nephew had caused quite an uproar when he had gotten himself caught up in a local war. Abram had rushed to his rescue, much to the dismay of his angel protectors, and was only now returning home.

Crispin remarked at the time on how foolish men were to always devise their own plans in light of God’s unending ability to deliver from any circumstance. Still, Abram was something of a mystery.

The angels watched Abram leading his rescued nephew and all his servants with their war spoils. Abram was a vibrant-looking man, in spite of his age. His salt-and-pepper hair blew carelessly across his brow as he looked back at the column of men following him. Lot was close behind, walking next to a camel that was laden with silver taken from the camp of one of the kings they had defeated.

Lot called to Abram, “Uncle, who are they?”

Abram turned to greet the strangers who had caught up with his party. One he recognized immediately, much to his disappointment. But the other…the other was new to him and commanded an immediate respect that Abram didn’t quite understand but knew was appropriate. Both these men were men of importance, and both had come to speak with Abram. But how different they were!

Bera, king of Sodom, was the first to greet Abram. Proud and petty, Bera all but drooled at the prospect of the spoils of conflict and of prisoners who would bring a good price at the market. Abram had never really trusted the king of Sodom, and the fact that a common enemy had thrust them together didn’t set well with him. It was an alliance of circumstance.

Bera approached Abram’s victorious returning party in the Valley of Shaveh. Stationing himself and some of his nobles at a point where he could see everybody pass, he scanned the faces of the captured, hoping to recognize important prisoners who would add to his prestige. Most of the people were familiar to him. Many of them were part of Lot’s house, or were allies of Abram, such as Mamre the Amorite and his two brothers. Then came Abram.

“Your God has smiled upon us this day,” said Bera as he surveyed several carts of plunder passing by. “When I return to Sodom I will make sacrifice to Him. You must be very great in His eyes.”

“The Lord has delivered my enemies into my hands because He has willed it, not because of my greatness,” replied Abram, “and because they were His enemies as well.”

“How gratifying it must be to know that your enemies are His enemies,” said Bera. “He has destroyed a great power in Kedorlaomer. The world will be grateful.”

Abram couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy in the presence of Sodom’s king. It was as if he had befriended a wild animal who might turn on him at any time. The sooner they concluded their dealings the better!

“Now as far as settling the accounts of war,” Bera continued, eyeing the spoils, “I have a proposition for you…”

Bera’s voice faded as Abram focused on the other figure approaching them in the valley. As the stranger came closer, Abram studied the man. His appearance was kingly, but without the haughty demeanor of kings of this land. The stranger stopped about 20 yards from where Abram and Bera were conversing. He gave a command and the camel kneeled down. The man dressed in royal garments dismounted and, reaching into his pack, brought out a small bundle. He approached Abram.

“The blessings of the Lord be upon you,” said the man, “for the marvelous victory He has wrought. You have defeated a scourge who has plagued this land for many years now. Please accept this humble offering of bread and wine for refreshment on your journey.”

“Thank you, friend. I will,” said Abram, taking the gift. “But whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?” Abram was still a little mystified by the stranger.

“I am Melchizedek, king of Salem and priest of the Most High God,” he said. “Take also this blessing upon you, for this too is why I have come.”

Melchizedek closed his eyes, stretched forth his hand toward Abram, and declared:

“Blessed be Abram by God Most High,
Creator of Heaven and earth.
And blessed be God Most High,
Who has delivered your enemies
into your hand.”

Abram fell to his knees, as did Lot and the rest of his people who were standing with him. Even Bera acknowledged the God of Abram and Melchizedek, albeit with a halfhearted bow of his head. Melchizedek took Abram by the hand and bade him stand. As Abram rose, he gestured to indicate all of the goods he had captured from Kedorlaomer.

“Please, take these things as my offering to the Lord for his continued deliverance of myself and my family,” said Abram. Bera’s eyes grew cold but he said nothing. “Truly all things belong to the Lord. Take them.”

“The Lord of Heaven and earth does not require it of you. He has blessed you with these and many other things. He has preserved you and made you wealthy many times over,” said Melchizedek. “But because your desire is to please the Lord and not to keep these things unto yourself, and because this expression is one of thanksgiving to God who has been with you, I will receive an offering up to the tenth.”

Abram thanked Melchizedek and immediately gave the order to his servants for the transfer of one-tenth of all his goods to Melchizedek. He even provided the burden animals and servants to carry the goods back to Salem. While the spoils were being loaded on the animals, Bera’s countenance was grim. He could not understand why Abram would so willingly give away so much to a stranger.
At least he didn’t give away everything
, he thought to himself.

“The Lord bless you forever, Melchizedek, priest of the living God,” said Abram. Melchizedek, heavily laden with Abram’s offering, mounted his camel. He bowed a graceful nod of the head and departed. Abram and Bera watched him disappear on the horizon toward Salem. How humble was this king. Abram could not help but make a comparison between Melchizedek, alone on the desert, and Sodom’s king with his retinue of servants.

Bera felt that it was now
his
turn to talk to Abram. He approached him, cleared his throat and began talking.

“As I was saying, in order to settle the accounts of war in an equitable manner, I propose the following division of the spoils. Let me have the prisoners, but you keep all the goods to yourself. After all, you were the one who defeated our enemies.” Bera figured that he could make more of a profit selling live property at the slave market than by peddling merchandise. “I will take the people with me, but you keep all of the rest.”

Abram turned to Bera and said, “I have raised my hand to the Lord, God Most High, Creator of Heaven and earth, and have taken an oath that I will accept nothing belonging to you, not even a thread or the thong of a sandal, so that you may never be able to say ‘I made Abram rich.’”

“My friend, I intended no insult to you or your God,” replied Bera. “I am merely proposing that I take the prisoners and you keep the goods. A very fair exchange, I feel.”

“Fair indeed, Bera, considering that by right of conquest all of this is mine anyway—prisoners as well as goods. But I am interested in nothing except the rightful share that will go to the men who fought alongside me—Aner, Eshcol, and Mamre. They will each get a share. The rest you may keep. I will take with me only what I have eaten.”

“Who am I to come between your conscience and your God? The bargain is made!” said Bera with a smug feeling of satisfaction that he had made a fool of Abram. Bera turned to some of his men. “You…and you there! Get these things back to Sodom. And be careful with the prisoners. They’re very valuable to me.”

With the goods divided between Bera and Abram’s three allies, the two companies parted. How glad Abram was to be rid of Bera. He didn’t particularly relish giving so much to him, but the thought of taking anything from Bera repulsed Abram completely. Abram looked down at the offerings of bread and wine that Melchizedek had presented to him. He pondered his dealings with the two kings as they set out for home.

Several evenings later, as Abram prepared for sleep, he began reflecting upon the recent events of his life. Who would ever have thought that Abram, an immigrant from Ur of the Chaldees, would consort with kings? Or become embroiled in local war? Or become so fabulously wealthy in such a relatively short time? If only his family in Ur could see what had become of him!

Many times he had discussed these things with his wife, Sarai. How fortunate they were to serve a living God, one who was concerned with them—not like the gods of his ancestors, who were deaf to the affairs of men and women. How blessed they were with cattle and goats, and silver and servants. There were very few estates comparable to his in all of Canaan, and Sarai was the envy of many ladies.

And yet, despite all the success and blessing, a larger question loomed in the back of his mind and seemed to make the significance of their prosperity pale in comparison: What did the Lord really intend? Why had God called Abram out of his homeland and away from his family? Surely He could have prospered him in Ur, if His intention were merely to prosper him. But there was more to it all: there was the promise.

Abram recalled the remarkable chain of events that led him from Ur to Canaan.

There was in those days an upheaval in the population of Mesopotamia: it seemed that everyone was moving somewhere! Abram’s father, Terah, became caught up in this emigration fever and decided to move the family to Canaan. Despite the promises of opportunity that the new land might afford, Abram was hard-pressed to convince Sarai to leave her friends and family for this “land of purple”—as Canaan was called because of its purple dyes.

Ur was a magnificent city. The arts flourished; the culture was enviable; the library was magnificent; the palaces were beautiful; the commerce was tremendous. Ur represented a golden age of Sumerian culture. It seemed to Sarai that there was plenty of opportunity right there! But behind the facade of prosperity and perfection was a looming catastrophe. Ur was rotting from within. Idolatry, political corruption, moral degeneration, and finally war would take their tolls; the city of Ur was destined to become a casualty of time, a historical footnote. Terah’s timing, it seemed, was impeccable.

Upon arriving in Haran, a stopping point on the trip to Canaan, Terah began to lose the urgency for travel and the family settled there. Abram recalled how his father decided that Haran, a sister-city of Ur with tremendous cultural and commercial ties, had “tremendous potential.” In truth, he was simply ready to settle down again—and this they did for the next 20 years until Terah’s death.