The Harbinger, page 3
“When?” I asked. “When did it start?”
“There’s no one simple answer. In America’s greatest moments there was always sin, and in its worst moments, greatness. But there are critical junctures. In the middle of the twentieth century America began officially removing God from its national life. It abolished prayer and Scripture in its public schools. As ancient Israel had removed the Ten Commandments from its national consciousness, so America did likewise, removing the Ten Commandments from public view, banning it from its public squares, and taking it down, by government decree, from its walls. As it was in ancient Israel, so too in America, God was progressively driven out of the nation’s public life. The very mention of the name God or Jesus in any relevant context became more and more taboo and unwelcome unless for the purpose of mockery and attack. That which had once been revered as sacred was now increasingly treated as profanity. And as God was driven out, idols were brought in to replace Him.”
“But Americans don’t worship idols.”
“No,” said the prophet, “they just don’t call them idols. As God was expunged from American life, idols came in to fill the void—idols of sensuality, idols of greed, of money, success, comfort, materialism, pleasure, sexual immorality, self-worship, self-obsession. The sacred increasingly disappeared, and the profane took its place. It was another kind of spiritual amnesia; the nation forgot its foundations, its purpose, and its calling. The standards and values it had long upheld were now abandoned. What it had once known as immoral, it now accepted. Its culture was increasingly corrupted by the corrosion of sexual immorality, growing continuously more crude and vulgar. A wave of pornography began penetrating its media. The same nation that had once been dedicated to spreading God’s light to the nations now filled the world with the pornographic and the obscene.”
“Some would call it tolerance,” I said.
“Yes,” he replied, “the same tolerance that overtook ancient Israel . . . a tolerance for everything opposed to God, a growing tolerance for immorality and a growing intolerance for the pure—a tolerance that mocked, marginalized, and condemned those who remained faithful to the values now being discarded. Innocence was ridiculed and virtue was vilified. Children were taught of sexual immorality in public schools while the Word of God was banned. It was a tolerance that put the profane on public display and removed nativity scenes from public sight . . . contraband, as if somehow they had become a threat—a strangely intolerant tolerance.”
“But still,” I countered, “how does all that compare to what happened in ancient Israel? America doesn’t offer its children on altars of sacrifice?”
“Does it not?” he said. “Ten years after removing prayer and Scripture from its public schools, the nation legalized the killing of its unborn. The blood of the innocent now stained its collective hands. Israel had sacrificed thousands on the altars of Baal and Molech. But by the dawn of the twenty-first century, America had sacrificed millions. For its thousands, judgment came upon Israel. What then of America?”
“So what are you saying?
He didn’t respond.
“Is America in danger of judgment?” I asked.
Again he was silent.
“Tell me . . . is America in danger of judgment?”
“Are you sure you want to know the answer?”
“I’m sure.”
“The answer to your question is yes . . . Yes. America is in danger of judgment.”
I didn’t respond immediately. I was trying to come up with a defense. Finally I said, “It can’t be as bad as it was in ancient Israel. They came against the prophets. But if God sent a message today to America, calling it back, people would listen.”
“Would they?”
“They wouldn’t?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because they’ve deafened their ears to those voices. So as with ancient Israel, the alarm would have to grow louder and the calling more severe.”
“Which means what?”
“Which means that America would enter a new stage.”
“Of what?”
“Of what happened to Israel,” he answered.
“The hedge?”
“The removal of the nation’s hedge of protection.”
“And what would it mean if something like that would happen?”
There was a long pause before he answered that. “It already has.”
“What do you mean?”
“America’s hedge has already been removed, and the Nine Harbingers have been manifested.”
“The Nine Harbingers?”
“The Nine Harbingers that manifested in ancient Israel in the nation’s last days. Each one was a sign. Each one was a warning of judgment . . . of their end . . . the Nine Harbingers of judgment.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s all happening again according to the same pattern, according to the judgment of ancient Israel. The Nine Harbingers that appeared in the last days of ancient Israel are now appearing in America.”
“Appearing in America?”
“Each one manifesting on American soil. Each one containing a prophetic message. And upon these, the future of the nation hangs.”
“I don’t understand . . . ”
“You don’t have to understand. It will all be revealed.”
• • •
He asked me if I had the seal. I did. I removed it from my pocket and handed it to him. He then opened up his other hand to reveal another seal, the same one he was holding the day we met. He placed it in my hand. “Nine seals, one for each Harbinger, one for each mystery.”
“And this one?” I asked.
“This is the seal of the First Harbinger.”
“And the one I gave you?”
“That was your seal. But as for the seals of the Harbingers, there are eight more. You’ll keep each seal until we meet again, at which time you’ll return it to me to receive the next seal and the next revelation. You’ll only have one seal at a time, the security deposit of a coming mystery.”
“And you trust me to give it back to you?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“But how do you know you’ll ever see me again?”
“You’re the one seeking, and you won’t stop until you find. In any case, I have my own security deposit, don’t I?”
He paused and then slightly nodding his head said, “Until then, Nouriel.” And he began to walk away.
“And my seal?” I shouted after him.
“You’ll get it back when we’re finished,” he replied without stopping or turning his head”
“And when will we meet again?” I asked.
“When it’s time to speak of the First Harbinger.”
“Here?”
“At the appointed place,” he replied.
“How will I know?”
“How did you know to come here in the first place?” he asked
“I didn’t.”
“So you won’t know again, and yet you’ll be there.”
And then he was gone.
Chapter 4 The First Harbinger: The Breach
But you did see the prophet after that?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t have any contact with him before you saw him again?”
“That’s right.”
“I don’t understand,” she said. “How did you know where to meet him or when . . . if he never told you?
“I didn’t know where or when,” he replied. “We just met.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“It would just happen. Sometimes I’d be led by the clues, and sometimes I’d be led in spite of them. Even when I got them wrong I’d still end up in the right place, eventually. And sometimes, even with no clues, when I wasn’t even searching . . . it would still happen. We just ended up in the same place. Call it predestination. I don’t know. It just happened.”
“Why do you think the prophet gave you clues to put together instead of just telling you from the start?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because it was the process of trying to put it all together that led to the next encounter. I think it was also so that each Harbinger would be burned into my consciousness.”
“So you met him again. And what happened? No, wait a minute.” She got up from the table, walked over to her desk, and pressed one of the buttons on her phone set. “Hold off any incoming calls,” she said. “Don’t allow any interruptions.”
“Even the calls that are scheduled?” replied a woman’s voice on the speaker phone.
“Yes. Tell them something came up and that I’ll get back as soon as possible. Apologize for me . . . warmly.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know,” she said, “for the rest of the day.” She returned to the table and refocused her attention. “OK, so you met him again,” she said. “When and where?”
“It was weeks after our last encounter. During that time I studied the seal looking for clues to the mystery of the First Harbinger.” “And what was on it?”
“Markings and shapes, but one that was clearly the central image and the largest. It was . . . how can I describe it? There was a horizontal line as if it was the top border of some object or structure. The line dipped down in the middle of the seal, then back up again, then continued as a horizontal line to the other side. So it formed something like a V in the middle. I couldn’t make anything out of it.”
“So?”
“So I went back to the bench by the water. But he wasn’t there. I went back several more times after that, but nothing. More weeks went by, and then months. I wondered if I’d ever see him again. And the whole thing still didn’t seem real. I would have almost doubted my memory if it wasn’t for the seal. One day . . . it was a Tuesday morning, I was in Lower Manhattan, the very bottom of the island, in Battery Park, pondering the words of the prophet, and looking across the waters at the Statue of Liberty in the distance.
• • •
At first I didn’t notice it, a dark figure standing about fifty feet in front of me and to the right. It was him. He was also facing the water, so I could only see his back. Whether he was looking at the statue or at some other object or just at the water, I don’t know. He turned to the side, just for a moment. That’s when I recognized him. I made my way over to him as fast as I could, not wanting to risk missing the moment. While I was still in back of him, he spoke . . . again, without breaking his gaze, at least at first.
“Nouriel,” he said.
“Present,” I replied.
“And just on time.”
“Did you arrange that too?” I asked.
“No. Have you studied the seal?”
“I have.”
“And what did you find?”
“Nothing.”
“Did you bring your recorder?”
“It’s always with me.”
“Then let’s begin,” he said, turning to gaze toward me for the first time in the exchange. A warm breeze ruffled his hair as he spoke above the sound of seagulls in the background. “Take out the seal,” he said. “What do you see?”
“Inscriptions, symbols, and one main symbol.”
“What do you make of it?”
“I don’t know. It’s something like a V.”
“It’s an image, Nouriel.”
“Of what?”
“The top of a wall,” he said. “It’s a wall of protection.”
“And what’s the V in the middle?”
“Not a V,” he replied, “a breach.”
“A breach?”
“A gap—a break, an opening in the wall. The wall is broken, the sign that an enemy has entered in.”
“It’s the removing of the hedge of protection. It’s what happened to ancient Israel?”
“Yes. With no other way of getting through to them, the hedge of protection is removed. The year is 732 B.C. Israel’s enemies invade the land and wreak havoc. The calamity traumatizes the nation. But it takes place on a limited scale. The enemy strikes and then withdraws. It’s a foreshadowing of something much greater and much more severe—a warning . . . a harbinger of a future judgment so great that if it ever came to pass, the nation would never recover.”
“So the warning is the removal of the hedge.”
“Yes,” said the prophet, “a late-stage warning, allowed to take place only when nothing else would wake them up . . . limited . . . restrained . . . the sound of an alarm for the purpose of averting a much greater calamity. It never could have happened had Israel remained inside the will of God. No enemy could have ever breached its walls. But outside the will of God, any notion of national security or invincibility was an illusion. The breach exposed it. The nation was in danger. It would be shaken to its foundation . . . and apart from returning to God, there was no wall strong enough to protect them. It was their wake-up call.”
“So they never woke up?”
“No,” he replied. “Most would see the tragedy as a matter of defense, national security, or foreign policy. They committed themselves to making sure it would never happen again. They fortified their defenses, strengthened their walls, and formed strategic alliances. Few of them pondered the possibility that there could be any deeper significance behind it. And yet the voices of their prophets, the words of their Scriptures, and an uneasy stirring in their hearts were all warning them that something was wrong. The nation had departed from God. But apart from the prophets, few realized the critical line they had crossed and the new and dangerous era they had entered. No political or military power would be strong enough to ensure their safety; only a return to God. The attack was a warning and a harbinger of judgment.”
“So what happened after they missed their wake-up call?”
“As time passed, it appeared as if life was gradually returning to normal. There was a respite, peace. With every passing year, it seemed as if the danger was farther behind them. But it was an illusion. The problem and the danger only increased. It was a period of grace, given to them in mercy, that they might change their course and avert the judgment. But if not, then a greater judgment would come, and that first breaching of their walls would be remembered as the harbinger that was the beginning of their fall. These were their most critical of days.” He paused. “The seal, Nouriel . . . hand it to me.”
So I gave it to him. He lifted it up in his right hand.
“The First Harbinger,” he said, holding the seal level with my eyes. “The Breach. The nation that had long known blessing and security witnesses the failure of its defenses. Its walls of protection are broken through, its national security is breached, and its illusion of invincibility shattered. The days of the Harbingers begin.”
“And this has something to do with America?” I asked.
“America was the most blessed nation on earth, its blessings shielded by a powerful hedge of national protection. As its founders had foretold, if the nation followed the ways of God, it would be blessed not only with prosperity and power but also with peace and security.”
“But if America turned away from God, its protection would be removed?”
“Yes, and so it did. And so it was. Its hedge of protection was removed, and its walls were breached.”
“Its walls were breached? When?” I asked.
The prophet was silent, as if waiting for me to say it, or waiting for it to hit me. And then it did . . . all at once.
“September 11!”
“Yes,” said the prophet. “The First Harbinger, the Breach. The nation that had so long known the blessings of peace and security witnesses its walls of protection broken through as its defenses fail. On September 11, 2001, the walls of America’s national security were breached. It happened right there,” he said, pointing to the sky above the waters. “The second attack. That’s how it came. The most powerful nation on earth and the most sophisticated defense system ever built by man . . . ”
“Its wall of defense . . . breached.”
“And then came the mistake,” he said. “Then came the repeating of the ancient mistake. America responded to the calamity as if it were only a matter of security and defense . . . and nothing more. It would strengthen its national defenses and fortify its walls of protection. There was no pausing to ponder whether there could be anything of deeper significance behind it, no asking if something could be wrong, no searching of its ways.”
“Was God behind it?” I asked.
“Man was behind it,” he answered. “Evil men were behind it. Up to that point they had been restrained. But that restraint would have its limits. As with the attack on ancient Israel, an attack would now be allowed on American soil.”
“But it was planned by evil men,” I countered. “It was evil.”
“Yes,” he replied, “but God can cause that which is evil to work for good.”
“But what good?”
“The sounding of an alarm to wake up a sleeping nation, to change its course, to save it from judgment.”
“But then was God with America’s enemies?”
“No. No more than He was with those who attacked ancient Israel. Those who do such things are His enemies as well. God was against those who attacked America and would deal with them just as He dealt with the enemies of ancient Israel.”
“And what about those who perished?” I asked.
“When calamity came to ancient Israel, both the righteous and the unrighteous were touched by it. Both perished alike. The judgment was upon the nation. But that the innocent and righteous also perished in those calamities was not a matter of judgment but of sorrow. But for the nation, the fact that such calamities could have happened in the first place was a matter of both warning and judgment. Each took place in its own realm. So it was with 9/11; the calamity took place in two different realms—the private realm of individuals and the public realm of the nation. In the first realm is only sorrow, and the magnitude of the calamity is secondary. And for those touched by it, the loss of one life is the loss of an entire world. The charge here is to bind up the broken, to comfort, to support, and to never forget the wounded and the bereaved. But the second realm is distinct and separate, centering not on the individual but on the nation as a whole. It’s in this second realm that the matter of judgment remains.”
