The Harbinger, page 6
“But the World Trade Center wasn’t made out of clay bricks,” I countered.
“The effect, though, was the same. The ancient prophecy opens up with the image of collapse—the ruins of fallen buildings. It was the same image of collapse and of the ruins of fallen buildings that confronted America in those first dark days following September 11. The American towers fell with the same suddenness as did the clay bricks and buildings of ancient Israel. In a matter of moments, they had become a heap of ruins. And yet the connection was still more literal.”
“What do you mean?”
“The ruin heap of Ground Zero was filled with steel, concrete, and glass, but not only that.”
“With what?”
“Bricks.”
“As in ‘The bricks have fallen.’”
“The fallen bricks of ancient Israel comprised a warning concerning the nation’s future. So too the fallen bricks of Ground Zero. The World Trade Center was a symbol of America’s economic power—proud, majestic, towering. But in a matter of moments it had come crashing down to dust . . . a warning to even the most proud, majestic, and towering of nations that no nation is invulnerable or exempt from the day that its power comes crashing down to earth, even in a moment’s time.”
“‘The bricks have fallen’; it’s not just about destruction. It’s about a nation’s response to destruction, its vow of defiance. So how did America’s reaction to 9/11 compare to that of ancient Israel?
“Do you remember the days that followed 9/11?” he asked.
“Of course,” I answered.
“No one had to say it. It was as if almost everyone had some sort of sense about it, even if they couldn’t put it into words. It was as if the nation had unconsciously heard a silent voice calling it to be still and to return to the foundation.”
“The voice of God?”
“Yes, and for a moment, America appeared to be responding. The rush and clamor of its culture were stilled. Wall Street came to a standstill. Hollywood grew silent. Throughout the nation there was a noticeable and massive turning away from the superficial and to the spiritual. Even the name of God was taken out of the closet and publicly proclaimed from Capitol Hill to New York City. Multitudes sang “God Bless America” and gathered for prayer. America’s houses of worship overflowed with throngs of people seeking to find solace. In those first few days and weeks after 9/11, it seemed as if there might be a true national turning, a changing of course, an awakening—even a spiritual revival.”
“But then America was turning back to God?”
“No. America was not turning back to God. It was a spiritual revival that never came. And even the appearance of turning back was short-lived. It had no real root. There was no real change of heart or course, no searching of ways, no questioning if something could be wrong, no repentance. So it couldn’t last. And it wasn’t long before the moment was lost and things began to return to a form of normalcy. The calls for prayer would fade away, the rush and clamor of daily life would resume, the spiritual searching would be abandoned, and the superficial again embraced. The name of God would again be withdrawn from the public square, and most of those who had suddenly flocked to houses of worship would cease their flocking. The nation would resume its departure from God and its rejection of His ways, only now with increased speed.”
“So how did America’s response to 9/11 compare with Israel’s response in Isaiah 9:10?”
“It was the same. From one commentary . . . ”
“Commentary?”
“The commentaries are writings on the Bible explaining the meaning, verse by verse.”
“But not the Bible.”
“Not the Word of God, but commentary on the Word of God.”
“So you study the commentaries?” I asked, surprised at the idea of it.
“I have.”
“I just didn’t picture a prophet studying the . . . ”
“And why not?” he replied. “Is God not able to speak through such things?”
“I guess He is . . . ”
“One commentary on Isaiah 9:10 describes how the people of ancient Israel viewed their national calamity:
“There is no way for the people to ignore the obvious disaster. Yet they choose not to recognize its deeper meaning . . . they do not respond to God. They only respond (inadequately) to the threatening situation.1
“Take those same words and bring them into the twenty-first century, and you have a description of post-9/11 America.”
“So then it would mean that in the wake of 9/11, America only responded to the immediate and obvious situation, to the destruction caused by the calamity and to the danger it threatened . . . but never considered that there could be anything deeper . . . no significance behind the obvious.”
“‘The bricks have fallen . . . but . . . ’ That was the point. Another commentary on the ancient vow puts it this way:
“The people, declared the prophet, did not take this calamity as a judgment from God but hardened their hearts and declared: ‘The bricks are fallen, but we will build with hewn stone; the sycamores are cut down, but we will put cedars in their place.’”2
“Then America was shutting off the alarm . . . ”
“Yes . . . silencing the alarm meant to awaken it.”
“Did anyone realize it?”
“Some . . . while others sensed something more . . . something deeper . . . but couldn’t put their finger on exactly what it was. But the alarm had sounded. The nation was in danger. Its bricks had fallen. Its stones were loosening. And it was only the beginning. ‘The bricks have fallen’ is only the opening of the ancient vow. There was more of the mystery to unfold. It’s what happened after 9/11 that would prove even more ominous.”
• • •
It was then that he opened his right hand, exposing the next seal. “The seal of the Fourth Harbinger,” he said as he handed it to me. “This one, Nouriel, is different.”
“The seal?”
“No,” he answered, “the Harbinger. Unlike the first three, the Fourth Harbinger was conceived on American soil, and it wasn’t set in motion by the nation’s enemies.”
“Then who set it in motion?”
“American leaders.”
“American leaders?”
“Yes.”
“And how will I know it?”
“It’s hard to miss. It’s the largest one.”
Chapter 8 The Fourth Harbinger: The Tower
Can I get you something else?” she asked. “Something other than water?”
“No, I’m fine,” he replied.
“I apologize. I should have asked you when you first came.”
“The water’s fine,” he replied.
“So,” she said, changing her pace and tone, “he gave you the seal of the Fourth Harbinger. And what was on it?”
“Images and markings, just like the others. But its central image looked something like the Tower of Babel.”
“And how would you know what the Tower of Babel looked like?” she asked with a trace of friendly skepticism in her voice.
“I don’t,” he replied, “but I’ve seen pictures of it. The image looked like a ziggurat . . . a terraced tower with each terrace or story getting smaller and smaller as it rises.”
“And what did you make of it?”
“I didn’t know what to make of it. I looked up everything I could on the Tower of Babel. But there was nothing I could find to connect to the seal. So I went back to the vow in Isaiah 9:10. But there was no mention of a tower. I was going nowhere.”
“As you were before.”
“As I was before except then I didn’t realize I was going nowhere. This time I was going nowhere and knowing I was going nowhere. I guess it was some sort of improvement, but it’s easier to go nowhere when you don’t realize that’s where you’re going.”
“So what did you do?”
“I put the two clues together—the image on the seal with what he told me.”
“What he told you . . . was what?”
“When I asked him how I would know the Fourth Harbinger, he told me it would be hard to miss—it was the largest one. So there’s the image of a tower and the clue that the Fourth Harbinger is the largest one, the largest tower. So I went to the largest standing tower in New York City.”
“The Empire State Building?”
“Yes. To the eighty-sixth floor and outside to the observation deck. It was early evening . . . a windy day . . . just around sunset . . . with thousands of lights just beginning to appear throughout the cityscape. I walked around the deck gazing at the skyscrapers in every direction, but there was nothing that struck me as being especially significant with regard to the clues. I was standing on the south side looking out to the city’s lower end. To my left was a man viewing the same scene through one of the metal telescopes they have there, the ones you have to pay to look through, the ones with timers on them.”
• • •
“Impressive,” the man said. “It’s an impressive view.”
“Yes it is,” I answered.”
“So many towers.”
• • •
“When I heard the word towers, I turned around. It was him.”
“The prophet, looking through a telescope on the observation deck of the Empire State Building?”
“The same.”
“And you didn’t notice him before that?”
“I was looking at the view, not the people. And his face was hidden behind the telescope.”
“But his voice.”
“Yes, but out of context, I wasn’t expecting to hear it.”
• • •
The prophet continued. “It has a beauty to it,” he said, still gazing at the scenery, “a strange beauty.”
“Don’t tell me you just came up here to take in the view,” I said.
“Actually, I had an appointment,” he replied.
“There’s no point in me asking you how you do all this, is there?” I asked. “My guess is that it involves satellites.” I was being facetious of course.
“You’re right,” he said.
“That it involves satellites?”
“No,” he replied, “that there’s no point in asking.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Long enough,” he answered. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”
“The clue on the seal, it’s a tower, right?”
“It is a tower.”
“Then I have it right this time. It’s the Empire State Building.”
“No,” he replied. “You’ve gotten it wrong again.”
“What do you mean? It’s a tower . . . the largest tower . . . and you’re here.”
“The image on the seal is a tower. But the Empire State Building is just the place of our meeting.”
“But you said it was the largest one.”
“The largest of the Harbingers.”
“Then the Fourth Harbinger isn’t a tower?”
“I didn’t say that. But it isn’t this tower. How many towers do you see out there?”
“I have no idea.”
“Many. And to which one do you think the seal points?” Just then he looked up from the telescope. His time was up. He turned to me.
“Do you need some change?” I asked, half-facetiously.
“I’m OK,” he answered. He began walking along the deck. I walked alongside him. He turned again to take in the view. I did likewise. So we both stood there in the wind, looking out at the vast expanse of skyscrapers, more and more of them now dotted with yellow lights and set against the deep red and blue background of the sunset sky.
• • •
“And where were you now on the deck?” she asked.
“Still on the south side, facing lower Manhattan.”
• • •
“Nouriel,” he asked, “where are we in the prophecy, in Isaiah 9:10?”
“‘The bricks have fallen,’” I replied.
“That revealed the First Harbinger. But where are we now? What comes next?”
“’The bricks have fallen,’ but . . . ”
“‘But we will rebuild,’” he said, completing the sentence. “That’s the key to the Fourth Harbinger.”
“It doesn’t sound very revealing.”
“Remember, it’s not just the words but the context surrounding them and the spirit behind them. The problem wasn’t the rebuilding. The problem was the spirit and the motive behind the rebuilding. They had just been given a critical warning. But they respond with defiance: ‘But we will rebuild’ is the first declaration of that defiance, from which will come their judgment.”
“It doesn’t only say, ‘We will rebuild,’ I added. “It says, ‘We will rebuild with hewn stone.’ Hewn stone . . . what’s that about? What’s the significance?”
“The fallen bricks were made of clay and straw. They were brittle and flimsy. They would be replaced, but not with more clay bricks, but with something much stronger—hewn stone.”
“So a building made of stone would be much more resistant to any future attack.”
“Exactly, and it could rise to greater heights.”
“So the hewn stone signifies their intent to come out of the attack stronger than they were before it.”
“Yes . . . again . . . all about defiance. Instead of being humbled by the calamity, they become emboldened by it. They vow to build bigger, better, stronger, and higher than before. Not only will they continue on their course of apostasy—now they’ll do it with a vengeance, with defiance. So instead of bowing their heads before heaven, they raise their fists against it.”
“So what happened?” I asked
“They clear away the heaps of fallen brick and rubble and begin the reconstruction on the ground of their devastation. The project is filled with symbolic meaning. It represents the nation’s rebuilding of itself and its rise from the ashes. The vow would become reality. New buildings, stronger, taller, bigger, and better, would rise up in place of those destroyed in the attack. So the new construction would become a concrete manifestation and witness of the nation’s defiance of God’s call.”
Taking the seal in his right hand and lifting it up, he began to explain. “The Fourth Harbinger: In the wake of the calamity, the nation responds without repentance, humility, or reflection, but with pride and defiance. Their leaders vow, ‘We will rebuild.’ They pledge to rebuild bigger, better, taller, and stronger than before. The rebuilding takes place on the ground of destruction. The construction is intended to be a symbol of national resurgence. It is set to rise up from the ruins of that which had fallen and to surpass it in height. It will be their towering testament of defiance—the rebuilding of the fallen, and of the nation itself, the Fourth Harbinger . . . the Tower.”
“So if the ancient mystery is joined to America, then somehow 9/11 has to be linked to the words ‘We will rebuild.’”
“Correct. In the wake of their calamity, the leaders of ancient Israel proclaimed, ‘We will rebuild’—the first sign of defiance. If the mystery holds and has now applied to America, we would expect to hear the same vow, the same three words, in the wake of 9/11, now proclaimed by American leaders.”
“And did it happen? Did they say it?”
“Yes. They said it. Not that it wouldn’t have been natural to speak of rebuilding, but the way these three words continuously came forth from the mouths of American leaders, spoken, over and over again, as public proclamations, was striking.
“From the mayor of New York City in the wake of the attack: ‘We will rebuild . . . ’1
“From the state’s senior senator: ‘We will rebuild . . . ’2
“From the state’s governor: ‘We will rebuild. And we will move forward.’3
“From the state’s junior senator: ‘We will rebuild . . . ’4
“From the city’s mayor at the time of the rebuilding: ‘We will rebuild, renew, and remain the capital of the free world.’5
“From the president of the United States: ‘We will rebuild New York City.’6
“One way or another, each leader would end up proclaiming the same words of defiance proclaimed thousands of years before by the leaders of ancient Israel.”
“And as with ancient Israel, it wasn’t just the speaking of words.”
“That’s correct, Nouriel. The words were followed by action.”
“So what happened after the words were spoken by the American leaders?”
“The words were likewise followed by action. The ruins of 9/11 were cleared away. Then a sign appeared at Ground Zero with these words: ‘A new icon will soon rise above the Lower Manhattan skyline . . . the Freedom Tower.’”7
“The Tower!”
“Exactly. It would become the center point of the rebuilding.”
“And the sign called it an icon. It was meant to be a symbol of the rebuilding, of Ground Zero and the nation.”
“It was to be an icon of defiance. Defiance—the word comes up again and again in the commentaries. Listen:
“It is the defiance of a people who, far from being repentant, glory in their iniquity.8
“To be heedless when God is speaking, by whatever voice He may address us, is surely iniquitous enough, but to act in deliberate defiance of the Almighty is, by many degrees, worse.9
“Proud defiance of God always brings disaster.10
“Long before the rebuilding began, while the dust of the attack still hovered above the ground of devastation, an American senator would foretell the meaning of the future campaign:
