2840 AM (920 BCE) – MEANWHILE IN JUDAH, ADONAI IS NOT HAPPY
Adonai sent Shamaia, the prophet who prevented Rehoboam from attacking Jeroboam, north to Israel, to address the foreign gods and the foreign fire being profaned on the foreign altars in Bethel.
“Shamaia,” Adonai warned, “they have already become very perverse in the North. Do not succumb to their treachery, or you will forfeit your own life! Take a different way back than the way you came; say what you are going to say, and then return. Do not even eat or drink anything from that land, as it has already become an abomination to me, an unclean nation.”
“As you wish,” Shamaia proclaimed.
He immediately saddled his donkey and made north toward Bethel. As he arrived, he saw Jeroboam lighting his favorite foreign incense. Jeroboam was at his false altar in Shechem, as Adonai said he would be.
Adonai spoke to Jeroboam through Shamaia, “You foreign altar of stone built for a foreign god of stone, know this: that a son will be born to the house of David, and his name will be Josiah. He will sacrifice your pretend priests who burn pretend incense to your pretend god. They will perish by fire on this very altar. Let the false god save you, if it can. But can it?”
Shamaia pointed at the golden calf, “Your gods are of wood and stone and metal, with eyes that cannot see or ears that cannot hear or hands that cannot save anyone from the fierce wrath of Adonai, the Creator of everything. Even the bones of your priests will be burnt up in the wrath and fury of Adonai. You scoff? You mock? How dare you not believe me? You laugh in the face of your Creator? Adonai will give you a sign. This altar will split in two and the ashes on it will be scattered about.”
Jeroboam was incensed. He thought to himself, “Who is this Shamaia claiming to speak on behalf of Adonai? What happened to Ahijah, whom he loved? He certainly spoke truth from Adonai, since he said that Jeroboam would be king, and Jeroboam was made king. But who is this fellow?”
Then the anger of Jeroboam flared, and he stretched out his hand and pointed at Shamaia, and shouted to his guards, “Seize him!” But immediately, Jeroboam’s hand shriveled and his arm froze in place. He shrieked in pain and horror.
Then suddenly, the offending altar split into pieces, and a great wind blew the ashes into a giant cloud filling the air. Jeroboam coughed and could only use his good hand to remove the ashes from his eyes and try to cover his mouth.
Then the ash cloud dissipated. Jeroboam just stood there looking at Shamaia, his hand stretched out and shriveled. He slowly fell to one knee and then the other, “Please, Shamaia, pray to Adonai for his favor. Pray to Adonai that he will restore my hand. Please, Shamaia!”
Shamaia prayed, and Jeroboam’s hand was restored. The king was in tears, “Please, Shamaia, let me thank you. Come to the palace for a meal! And let me reward your service to Adonai with gold and silver.”
Shamaia shook his head slightly, “Adonai forbids me from accepting anything from this land, not food or drink, not even water for my animal. I am not to linger in this defiled land, not even to go back the same way I came. I have already been here much too long.”
Then without another word, Shamaia walked away.
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Some of the sons of a prophet who lived near Bethel witnessed this whole interaction, and they ran to their father to tell him what had happened. The father asked his sons which way the man went, saddled his donkey, and went up after the man. He saw a man resting under a pistachio tree, and he asked him, “Are you the man from Judah who just had words with the king?”
Shamaia turned to the man and looked him over, but then said, “Yes, I am.”
“You look weak and exhausted. Why not come to my house and tell me about what Adonai has been doing? I have not heard from Adonai in years, not since Jeroboam took over.”
“I cannot. Adonai has forbidden me. He said I am not to accept any hospitality, food, drink, etc., for the land and everything in it is defiled,” Shamaia responded.
“I see,” said the older prophet, “that is quite strange. You see, Adonai sent me to flag you down and make sure you were taken care of. Perhaps he is worried about your health?”
“I… don’t know,” Shamaia said. The heat was certainly getting to him. He had not had food or water in almost twenty-four hours. Shamaia looked up, “Why would he do that? He doesn’t change his mind, does he?”
“Oh, you know how it is. If Adonai cares about anything, it’s for your welfare, your comfort, and your physical well-being. After all, you are no good to him dead, am I right? I am sure he knows that.”
Shamaia’s mind was swimming. It made sense, kind of. And he was parched. He felt as if he could not take another step.
“Why don’t you just come to my house and cool down? You do not need to eat or drink anything, even though, you know, like I said, Adonai said it was okay. But just cool off and return home this evening when it cools off.”
Reluctantly, Shamaia agreed.
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They traveled the short distance back to the old prophet’s house. It wasn’t far. They sat in the dining area, and it was, indeed, cool. The old prophet had his sons bring drinks and food and fill the table. The old prophet said, “I hope you don’t mind, I am a bit peckish at the moment. You are welcome to it as well, of course.”
The old prophet began speaking about the many adventures he had with Adonai as he filled his plate. His sons joined them, and they were all eating and talking. Shamaia’s stomach growled. Now that he had cooled off, he was drowsy. It was so hard to focus on what the old prophet was saying. He was thirsty. His salty tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and he could not even lick his blistered lips.
In almost a haze, Shamaia slowly, reluctantly, reached to take some water. The old prophet did not miss a beat as he spoke, but he carefully watched Shamaia as he was speaking. The water flooded Shamaia with a sense of well-being. He felt better—much better, in fact. Without thinking, he plucked a grape from a nearby cluster, and he had an instant boost in energy.
“You should try the bread. My wife makes it. She uses so many eggs! Here,” the old prophet said, as he broke a chunk off and all but hurled it in a friendly manner to Shamaia. The bread was indeed soft and rich and moist.
Shamaia smiled at the old prophet with sincere gratitude that he had convinced him to come. But then, suddenly, the disposition of the old prophet changed. He stopped speaking and looked like he was struggling in terror.
Shamaia wondered if he was choking, but suddenly the old prophet blurted painfully, “Hear the words of Adonai, Shamaia. You have rebelled against the words of Adonai and did not obey the most basic of commandments I asked of you. You will die today, and you will not be buried in the tombs of your fathers in Judah, but here in Israel.”
Shamaia looked up at the old prophet in horror, “What? You lied to me? What kind of person are you? Why would you do that? What have you done? Why did I listen to you? This was all so very unnecessary. I must leave now.”
The old prophet’s sons helped get Shamaia’s donkey ready, and Shamaia left. Shamaia continued toward Judah. He made it back to that pistachio tree, passing it with anger and wishing he had never stopped to rest.
The donkey abruptly halted, which brought Shamaia’s thoughts back to the present as he tried to steady himself and not fall from his mount. Then the rustling of leaves also begged for his attention. He barely had time to turn his head as a lioness jumped from the thicket, knocking Shamaia hard off the donkey. He fell swiftly from his mount and landed hard on the ground, dying before the lioness even landed on top of him.
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As word eventually got back to the old prophet that a foreigner was dead on the side of the road, he knew. He had his sons begin to dig a grave in the family lot. Then the old prophet once again saddled his donkey and set off after the prophet from Judah. As he approached the pistachio tree, his pace slowed. There was the prophet from Judah, there was his donkey, and… there was the lioness.
He stopped and carefully evaluated the situation.
The lioness was just sitting there watching. She did not harm the donkey, nor did she mutilate the body of Shamaia. So, with a long, deep breath, the old prophet loaded the prophet from Judah back onto his donkey. Tying the reins onto the saddle of his own donkey, he rode back home, where they buried Shamaia.
During the ceremony, the old prophet spoke to his sons, “I have sinned. I have lied. I was selfish. And it cost Shamaia his life. My brother in Adonai! Oh, my brother in Adonai! How could I have done that to you?”
The sons of the old prophet started burying the remains of Shamaia when their father added, “When I die, put me in this same grave.”
Used with permission by the author. Find the author’s complete works online: Complete Works of Mack Samuels
