The Fall of the Messiah Son of Joseph and the King Who Slays Armillus

The roof of the rebuilt Temple was still warm with new mortar when the king climbed onto it and turned toward the exiles. He had come up out of the line of Ephraim, son of Joseph, and he had fought to stand where he stood. Stones had been raised. Walls had risen. Now he lifted his voice over the gathered poor and cried out, "Humble ones, the time of your redemption has arrived."

A light fell across them as he spoke. He pointed to it. "Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has shone upon you." The nations saw the brightness and walked toward it. Kings came stumbling, dropping to the dust at his feet. Ten men of every tongue seized the hem of a single Jew and would not let go, saying, "Let us go with you, for we have heard that God is with you."

The Anointed of Ephraim Falls in the Street

But this Messiah was not the end of the story, and he knew it. The line of Joseph has always been the line that suffers first. He had been laughed at and mocked by the nations for Israel's sake. The triumph on the roof did not erase the war still waiting below, and the war took him. The anointed son of Ephraim fell, and the rebuilt walls stood over a leaderless people.

Out of that vacuum rose the thing that had been waiting. Armillus the wicked spread his rule across the earth, the tyrant the world produces whenever heaven goes quiet, the king who grinds the widow and the orphan and calls it order. No one stood against him. The roads belonged to him. The blood of the slain belonged to him.

The Patriarchs Stand in Nisan and Bless the Sufferer

While Armillus reigned, something no army could see was happening. In the month of Nisan, the month of the broken bread and the first redemption, the fathers of the world rose to their feet. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob came and stood before the spirit of Ephraim, who had sat so long in darkness and gloom.

His skin had shriveled. His body was dry as a dead tree. His eyes had gone dim from fasting. And the patriarchs, who had buried sons and wrestled angels and bound their own children on altars, bowed their heads to him. "Even though we are your fathers, you are better than us," they said, "because you suffered the sins of our children. You were laughed at and mocked by the nations for Israel's sake." Then they comforted him. "Rest your mind, for you have rested the mind of your Maker, and our minds with it."

God Lifts the Sufferer and Names His Reward

Then God raised the anointed one of Ephraim into the highest heavens and clothed him in glory. He set before him the judgment of the wicked nations, acknowledging that only this one's compassion had kept them from destruction. "Is Ephraim a son who is dear to me," God said, "that I should surely have compassion on him?"

One hundred and forty kingdoms had massed against him. He was afraid. "Do not fear them," God told him, "for all of these will die at the breath of your lips." Then God built seven canopies of precious stones, and rivers ran beneath them, wine and milk and honey and pure persimmon. God embraced him before all the righteous and swore that he had not yet received half of his reward, a reward no eye had ever seen. The north and south winds carried perfumes out of the Garden of Eden, so the air around him smelled of paradise.

The King from Judah Descends Girded for War

Now the other Messiah came, the one the tyrant had been waiting for without knowing it. He arose from the house of Judah, from the sons of Jesse. How beautiful was the king, the Meshiha of Judah. He girded his loins and descended and arrayed the battle against his adversaries.

Upon him rested the spirit of prophecy from before the Lord, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, of counsel and might, of knowledge and the fear of the Lord. He did not judge by what his eyes saw or reprove by what his ears heard. With righteousness he judged the poor and defended the needy of the earth. And he did not destroy Armillus with sword or spear. He smote the sinners of the earth with the word of his mouth. With the breath of his lips he slew Armillus the wicked, the way a man blows out a lamp.

His garments came back soaked red, as if he had been treading a winepress, dipped in the blood of kings who had thought no one could stand before them. The mountains turned red beneath them. And when the last tyrant was gone, the earlier troubles were forgotten, the way a traveler who escapes a wolf and then a lion forgets both when the snake is finally dead.

Peace Multiplies on the Holy Mountain

Then the righteous gathered around the king, the workers of faith drew near, and peace began to multiply across the earth. The wolf lay down with the lamb. The leopard stretched out beside the kid. The calf and the lion and the fatling fed together, and a small child walked among them, leading them by the hand. The cow and the bear grazed side by side, and the lion ate straw like an ox.

A nursing infant played over the hole of the asp. A weaned child reached his bare hand toward the den of the cockatrice and was not bitten. Nothing hurt and nothing destroyed on all the holy mountain, because the earth had filled with the knowledge of the fear of the Lord, as deep as the waters that cover the sea. Two anointed kings, one who died and one who conquered, and only the second keeps the peace the first one paid for.