The idea that history could have taken a different turn, ushering in an era of peace and divine presence. Well, according to some fascinating legends, we might have been closer than we think.
One such story revolves around Hezekiah, the righteous king of Judah. Picture this: God had a plan. A grand plan! The intention was to make Hezekiah the Messiah. Yes, that Messiah. And Sennacherib, the Assyrian king who threatened Jerusalem, was to play the role of Gog and Magog, the forces of chaos that are defeated before the messianic age.
But… there was a problem.
Justice itself, personified as a divine voice, raised an objection. As Ginzberg retells in Legends of the Jews, Justice questioned God: "O Lord of the world! David, king of Israel, who sang so many songs and hymns of praise to Thee, him Thou didst not make the Messiah, and now Thou wouldst confer the distinction upon Hezekiah, who has no word of praise for Thee in spite of the manifold wonders Thou hast wrought for him?" In other words, where was Hezekiah's gratitude? Had he truly recognized the miracles he had been given?
It's a powerful point. Think about it. We often ask for blessings, but do we truly acknowledge them when they arrive?
Interestingly, even the Earth seemed to want to help Hezekiah. According to the legend, the Earth itself offered to sing a song of praise in Hezekiah's place, begging God to make him the Messiah. Even the Prince of the World, a celestial being, pleaded on Hezekiah's behalf. That's some serious support!
But… a voice from heaven thundered, "This is my secret, this is my secret." A divine decree, shrouded in mystery. Why the secrecy? What was so crucial that it couldn't be revealed? Was it a test? A lesson?
The prophet's sorrow is palpable. "Woe is me! How long, O Lord, how long!" he cries. When will the suffering end? When will the Messiah finally come? The answer, cryptic and laden with meaning, echoes back: "The time of the Messiah will arrive when the 'treacherous dealers and the treacherous dealers' shall have come." (This phrase, "the treacherous dealers," appears in Isaiah 21:2, a passage often associated with the coming of judgment and redemption.)
So, what does it all mean? Perhaps it's a reminder that gratitude is not just a nice sentiment, but a vital component of our relationship with the Divine. Perhaps it's a lesson about the hidden nature of divine plans, the parts of the process that are beyond our understanding. Or maybe, just maybe, it's a whisper of hope, a promise that even in times of treachery and darkness, the possibility of redemption remains.