Enoch’s Warning and a Child Named Methuselah

0686 AM (3074 BCE) – ENOCH

Daniella heard footsteps approach their tent and the flap opened. She looked up. It was Enoch. He definitely appeared to be in one of his moods. She smiled in relief that he had finally returned. He did not return the favor.

“Ok,” Daniella started, “Spill it. What’s going on? Where have you been?”

Enoch’s face was weathered with worry as he answered, “Well, I just got back from the garden and—”

“The garden?” Daniella interjected in disbelief, “you went all the way to the garden? What, were you alone? Tell me you did not go alone? How could you! You promised! It’s not safe.”

“I had to,” Enoch replied, “El had requested it.”

Daniella’s gaze froze on Enoch, boring a hole into him, as she contemplated. Suddenly, she stood and ran to Enoch, holding him tightly. Silently, they just stood there as she held him for a long time. She could feel his heart bursting with compassion, as was hers.

Finally, she relented, let go, and looked up, “It’s just gotten so bad. So many have died. They … they don’t even bother to bury them anymore. They just leave them. Exposed. Decaying. The land is scattered with the dead. And they laugh. It’s frightening. You know, I think the laughing gets to me the most. I hear it most at night—last night, in fact, when you were away. I was truly scared. I think they try to mock us with their laughter. And for you to just go to the garden by yourself. I mean, with the little one…”

She looked down at her abdomen. It was swollen with their first child. She caressed her belly, looking back at Enoch expectantly.

“The violence,” Enoch began, “It just seems that everyone—well, many people—they just think about violence continuously. I took my concerns to El. He said that he was already aware. He said that time was short, and we must keep teaching. We have to be zealous. He said that nearly four out of every ten people still listen and obey and teach their children to listen and obey.”

Enoch sighed, “But there is a judgment coming. A horrible, terrible judgment. He called it the judgment for the millennium. I am not quite sure what that means. But he said that it would be something never before seen, and that it would be something that would never be seen again. Even the garden will be destroyed … swept into the sea or something like that. El was very upset.”

“Millennial judgment?” Daniella repeated softly.

“Yeah, millennial judgment. I think it means that when creation is a thousand years old, the judgment will come and kill all those who are rebellious and violent, those who do not follow in obedience to El. It makes me sad, because I think it means Methuselah will be the first person to die from natural causes.”

Daniella winced. It was an awful thought. Since Adam, and the promise that he would surely die, he surely hadn’t. Neither had Seth, nor their wives. Certainly not by natural means. Many of their family were killed by the hand of man, but none by natural causes.

Enoch continued, “El said that he would protect us all until the judgment, to protect the seed. We should be bold and tell everyone, teach everyone. Some will listen, many will not. But he will allow none to harm us. So, that means, if the judgment comes at the millennium, then Methuselah might be, what, just a little over 300 years old when he dies.”

“Methuselah?” Daniella said, looking up in utter astonishment—maybe even a little levity, “Methuselah? Enoch, that’s a terrible name. ‘His death shall bring?’ What will his death bring? That’s why you think judgment will be the death of Methuselah? Really?”

Subconsciously, Daniella rubbed her belly as she thought out loud, “And so young! Only the murdered would have lived less time.” Looking up at Enoch, she wondered, “Do we have to name him Methuselah?”

“Yeah, I know, but we do. It was the name El gave me. I don’t know what to tell you. El would not explain any further. All we know for sure is that time is short. You know that. Time is always short.”

“It does feel that way,” she whispered.

He went on, “Even if we lived a thousand years, it would feel like a moment, like the grass sprouting or a flower blooming. The problem is that the others, the murderers, they just don’t value life. They take it, waste it, destroy it, hate it. And I think it is because the very nature of El is abhorrent to them somehow. It makes a little sense. After all, kindness? Gentleness? Self-control? They are not ready for such radical ideas as these. For the love of El, they still follow Cain’s practice of killing their firstborn!”

Daniella exhaled sharply, tears moistening the dry dust, so commonly blown about, now caking around her eyelashes. She thought of how this was to be a joyous moment. They were going to have their first child. Yet the joy was somehow poisoned by the insecurity of the times.

So much rebellion against El, so much hate. Instead of taking joy in life, they took joy in the ever more creative desecration of life and the defilement of the image they were made in. They were abhorrent, Daniella decided. She was not like them. She would be different. They would be different. They had to be.

“So,” she said, turning back to Enoch, trying hard for even the slightest of smiles, “It’s a boy, then, is it?”

Used with permission by the author. Find the author’s complete works online: Complete Works of Mack Samuels