The Prisoner in the Third Cell

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  The Prisoner in the Third Cell

  Copyright © 1991 by Gene Edwards. All rights reserved.

  Cover photograph © by Elianadulins/iStockphoto. All rights reserved.

  This book was formerly published by The SeedSowers (Christian Books Publishing House), Auburn, Maine 04210.

  Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2007 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

  ISBN 978-0-8423-5023-5

  To My Youngest

  And Much Loved Daughter,

  Cindy

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Book Discussion Guide

  About the Author

  * * *

  It has been said that it is impossible to forgive a man who deliberately hurts you for the sole purpose of destroying you or lowering you. If this be true, you have but one hope: to see this unfair hurt as coming by permission from God for the purpose of lifting your stature above that place where formerly you stood.

  * * *

  Prologue

  “The new prisoner has arrived, Captain.”

  “Is the rumor true?” the captain responded.

  Without answering, the guard held up a piece of papyrus for Protheus to see.

  “Herod has lost his mind. He will yet be found as mad as his father.

  “Making this man a prisoner,” he continued, “may very well set off a revolution. The common people are enraged.”

  “Sir, forgive me, but I must speak. I do not like this,” said one of the guards in a voice shaking with emotion. “I do not want him here. I do not want his blood on my hands. I fear that man. I listened to him once, in the desert. I fear what God might do to us for imprisoning such a man.”

  “Do your duty, soldier. Prepare a cell.”

  “Only one is empty, sir.”

  “Prepare it then.”

  “There is nothing to prepare, sir. It is the third cell.”

  “The pit? We shall see a holy man of God vanquished to that?”

  “Sir, there is something about all this I dislike more than anything else.”

  “What is that, soldier?”

  “I dread what we are going to have to listen to from the other two prisoners when they find out who is in cell three.”

  “I cannot say I disagree with you,” sighed Protheus.

  At that moment the door at the head of the stairs swung open. In the doorway could be seen the silhouette of two soldiers and a prisoner.

  “I wonder how long Herod will let him live,” thought the captain to himself.

  * * *

  He who takes up the sword perishes by the sword. He who refuses to take up the sword perishes on the cross.

  * * *

  Chapter 1

  Elizabeth opened the door to her home, there to be greeted by a young kinsman from Bethlehem.

  “I have an urgent message for you from Joseph and Mary.”

  “Come in,” responded Elizabeth. At that moment Zachariah entered the room carrying a young three-year-old boy in his arms.

  “I have a message and a small package, both from Joseph and Mary.”

  “Please,” said Elizabeth. “My eyes have long since lost their ability to read such small letters.”

  The young man broke the wax seal of the small scroll, cleared his throat, and began.

  “Strange things have taken place in our lives of late, events as unusual as those that brought forth the birth of your son and ours. We had a visit from three Babylonian astrologers just yesterday. Then, last night, Joseph had a dream, a very disturbing dream. In it, our son was seen in grave danger from the wrath of that monster, Herod the Great. We are departing Bethlehem at this very hour. Joseph and I are going to Egypt, there to remain until this dreadful danger, whatever it is, passes.

  “But our son is not the only one in danger. We fear that John is, also. Perhaps all the young firstborn children in Judea are in danger. Elizabeth, we urge you and Zachariah to leave Judea immediately. Go where you wish, but your nearest, safest hiding place is the desert. With this letter we are sending a small package. If I do not explain, you will wonder forever what a poor carpenter and his wife are doing owning gold. The Babylonian astrologers gave several gifts to us. One of them was a casket of gold coins. We are sharing them with the three of you. Please, in the name of our God, flee Judea today. Tomorrow may be too late. We will try to find you on some better day when, hopefully, we return from Egypt.”

  The letter was signed by Joseph and Mary.

  With that, the young man handed a small leather pouch to Zachariah, which he quickly opened. Inside the pouch were several gold coins. For a moment no one spoke.

  Elizabeth, ignoring the gift, broke the silence. “I am not surprised about Herod. The enemy of God would do just such a thing. We must leave immediately.”

  Zachariah now addressed the young courier.

  “Go. And tell no one of this.” With those simple words, the youth bowed his head in respect and departed.

  “You are right, Elizabeth. We must leave for the desert immediately.”

  “How can we survive out there? In order to be completely safe, we must go far into the desert. Can anyone survive out there?”

  “Elizabeth, it will be a difficult thing for all of us, to say the least. But the Essenes survive out there. They have families; they have children; they have homes out there. Our son will survive.” Zachariah then chuckled, “Perhaps you and I may even survive there, at least for a little while.”

  Chapter 2

  The winds were deadly. The heat was more than Zachariah or Elizabeth ever imagined. Canyon walls were like a furnace. Even the blowing sand scalded the face, trying, it seemed, to destroy anything that dared walk into that living furnace. Water was scarce, food nonexistent. In the midst of murderous heat, Zachariah had fainted on several occasions.

  Finally, after a week’s journey into that boiling hell, the three wayfarers arrived at one of the Essene villages. After several days of rest, they penetrated even deeper into this oven of sand and rock. At last they came to the largest of the Essene settlements.

  The three were received with gracious reserve by the sober-faced Essenes. Within a few weeks the elderly couple and their young son had become a part of this strange community of religious stoics.

  Zachariah became ill almost immediately. Nowhere in this inferno could he find a hiding place from the all-pervasive temperatures. The old man knew his death was but a matter of days. His last hours were spent being cared for by women of the village who mercifully wrapped his body in wet rags. Finally, late into the night when heat was at its lowest, Zachariah gave his life up to God, leaving a widow and a small child.

  During the ensuing years, young John took his place among the Essenes, eventually becoming one of them. From the beginning, the lad seemed to have a natural disposition for the communal life of this desert hermita
ge.

  The wilderness heat eventually took its toll on Elizabeth, for the elderly did not live long in this scorched world. Even as Elizabeth’s strength was waning and her steps grew fewer, word came that Herod was dead. Immediately she made plans to return to her home in the cool hills of Judea. With her last good strength, and the aid of several Essenes, she and her son returned safely to her Judean home. But not long after John’s twelfth birthday, Elizabeth joined Zachariah in death. John was now an orphan. Elizabeth’s closet kinsmen buried her not far from that very place where an angel once visited her and told her that she would bear one of the most incredible children ever to make entrance into this world.

  Where would John live now that his parents were both dead? Who would raise this boy to manhood? These were the questions that filled everyone’s mind as John and his kinsmen returned to his house.

  Chapter 3

  “John, we grieve for the passing of your mother.” The voice was that of Hannel, one of Israel’s most devout laymen. “Nonetheless, a decision is in order. Tomorrow each of us must return to our separate homes. It is for you to decide which one of us you will live with. Though I am not one of your close kin, I have come here because I know of your devotion to the Hebrew religion, and I have spoken often with your mother about adopting you if the providence of God ever brought forth such a need.

  “John, I am very aware of how you feel about your future, that you must one day serve God. In my judgment, the best possible course for you is to come live with me. God has been very good to me, John. Ours is a very devout home. There is prayer; there is fasting. My entire family is devoted to God. I even own several scrolls of holy writ. Few homes are so honored.

  “I pledge to you now, in the sight of your relatives, that you will be trained by the best of the rabbis. I commit to you the promise of the best religious education possible. We have a large home. It is quite comfortable. You may spend as much time in prayer as you wish. You may come and go in pursuit of your religious training as you please. When you reach the age of twenty-one, if you desire, you may go to the temple in Jerusalem and study under the Pharisees or be trained to become a temple priest. Though you are of the tribe of Judah and not a Levi, you would be allowed into any of the religious orders, including the Levitical priesthood, because you have taken the vow of the Nazarite.”

  Hannel paused. John said nothing, nor did he betray any of his feelings.

  It was Parnach, a cousin of Zachariah and a man of influence, power, and wealth, who spoke next.

  “John, it is true that you may wish to continue to pursue your Nazarite vow. On the other hand, the day may come when you might decide to take some other direction in your life. If you would come to live with me, I will promise you the best education in Israel. I need not tell you of my place in government. I am in the highest echelon of power. You will grow up among the most influential men in our country, for my friends include even its greatest rulers. I have position, prestige, and access to power. Whatever your goal in life, as a member of my house you will be friends of those men who have the greatest influence to help you bring about your goals. I would strongly urge you to come and be part of my household.”

  Once more John said nothing.

  Now it was Joseph and Mary’s turn. Mary spoke.

  “John, we have very little to offer you. Mostly, the companionship of your cousins. We have a large family. You and my oldest son have always enjoyed one another’s company. But if you would come with us, you would work in a carpenter’s shop. I suppose in the light of what these men have offered you, it would be wise for you to go with one of them. I am almost embarrassed to invite you to our home. As I said, we are poor, but you will be loved.”

  “I know,” responded John finally. “If I must choose between Hannel, Parnach, and your family, then I would choose the latter.”

  “Then you will come and live with us?”

  “No,” replied John, looking calmly into the face of Mary.

  Mary inadvertently slipped her hand to her mouth. “It’s the Essenes, is it not?” Mary paused, and her face signaled that she desired a clear response.

  “Yes, it is. I belong there.”

  A moment of silence ensued.

  “John,” continued Mary, “perhaps you do not know this, but several Essene families have moved to Nazareth. Do you remember the two little boys you used to play with there . . . and oh, yes . . . and that little green-eyed . . .”

  “Mary,” interrupted John, speaking strongly, almost sternly, and very much out of character for a Hebrew lad. “I know what I am to do. The Lord has made this very clear to me. I am to return to the desert, and I am to live there.” John now turned toward Hannel and Parnach.

  “I wish to thank both of you for your kind offers. You have all been gracious and caring. Thank you for your concern for my future. Nonetheless, I know where I belong. I am returning to the desert.”

  Once more John turned to face Mary.

  “You are my mother’s closest friend. She loved you dearly. She spoke often of you. Nonetheless, I must leave here immediately, alone. The Lord has taken my father and my mother. I have absolutely no obligations. I have no brothers or sisters, no grandparents.” John paused. “You must not worry about me; and though it may seem to all of you that I have simply disappeared, I will be well. God will take care of me.

  “I am not sure of much, except that I must live in the wilderness until God tells me otherwise. This I also know: Out among the Essenes I will discover what it is that my God wishes me to do. The desert will provide me with the answers. My preparation for His will is not in a city nor a village, but a desert.”

  The next morning a boy not yet thirteen bade good-bye to Parnach and Hannel, to Joseph and Mary, and to his second cousin who was a year younger than he, who bore the name Jesus.

  Chapter 4

  John took his place once again among the Essenes, but allowed no one to adopt him. He lived alone. To provide his meager needs for food, water, and clothing, he worked with his hands.

  Never once in the coming years did John touch wine. His hair grew, uncut, from the day of his birth. But because it was the one possible source of pride in his life, he gave even his long raven hair the minimum of attention, obscuring its length and beauty.

  Much of this time John spent in prayer and fasting—so often so that his fingers sometimes turned purple, and he was sometimes so weak that his legs could no longer support his frame. Frequently he spent whole days and nights in unbroken prayer, doing little to protect his body from the harsh elements of the wilderness. Austere was the way he lived; stern became his demeanor.

  As the years passed on, John began spending his time wandering the desert. There the fierce sun leathered his face and turned it to craggy wrinkles. By the time he reached manhood, the son of Zachariah and Elizabeth looked far, far older than his age. To John, such things were a small price to pay, for his long treks into the desert were his most coveted times. There he could spend uninterrupted hours alone with God. The howling wind, the furnace heat, the baking sun, and the cutting sand became his closest companions.

  As he approached the age of thirty, when, by tradition, holy men might end their training and enter the ministry, John was one who could hear the voice of God within the desert wind, see His face within the sun, and feel His presence in the blowing sand. He was by now both a mystery and a legend among the Essenes. Few men, the Essenes were certain, had ever lived their lives so completely before God. Few men had abandoned every human comfort to be so utterly unhindered in their pursuit of knowing the Lord. In the minds of the Essenes, and even among some of the nomadic tribes, there was no doubt that a prophet was being raised up in their midst. The desert was giving birth to a man of God.

  Such a man as John the world had rarely seen. His devotion to God was absolute; his life was void of all except his call to speak for God. He knew no family life, lived without entertainment, without friends, without companionship. The thought of a wife
, a home, or children never crossed his mind. Everything within John was for God. The devotion of an Abraham, of a Moses, of an Elijah, of an Elisha, of an Amos, paled in the presence of this single-minded celibate whose only friend and companion was his Lord.

  Never before had the world seen anything like John, nor was it likely to see such a man ever again.

  One evening, while standing upon the sandstone cliffs that overlooked the Dead Sea and watching a blazing red sun set behind jagged hills, a voice from heaven spoke to him.

  “John, the fullness of time has come. What you have lived your entire life for is at hand. Go. Proclaim the Day of the Lord. Pull down the mountains; fill in the valleys; prepare a highway for the Messiah. Go, John, now. Look neither to the right nor to the left. Let there be nothing else in your life. No one has ever carried so great a responsibility as do you at this hour.

  “Proclaim the coming of the Lord!”

  Chapter 5

  The nomadic caravans were the first to come face-to-face with the desert prophet. Their eyes registered unbelief as they gazed upon the sight of such an emaciated creature. Their first thought was simple enough. “He is some madman who wandered into the desert.” Or, more charitably, “The heat has driven one of the Essenes quite mad.”

  Obviously this nameless man was a Jew; but he wore the garment of an unclean animal, the loathsome camel. And it was soon rumored that for food he ate locusts—a food used by only the poorest, most impoverished people.

  His outward appearance declared him a lunatic; his words declared him a prophet. His hair, unkempt, reached almost to his knees. His face was that of an old man, but his voice thundered with the vigor of youth. His eyes flashed the burning fire of the desert.

  Despite themselves, men could not but stop and stare . . . and listen. The voice rang clear. The words were majestic and bold, almost poetic. There was power in every word. The man himself projected a dignity and integrity almost beyond the grasp of human understanding.