“Yes, he has,” added Eli. “I’m sure of it.”
Pekah brushed a low-hanging branch away from his head. “I don’t mean any disrespect, Jonathan, but tell me more of this Promised One. Is He the same who should come and rule? How is it that you’re sure the king is with Him?”
Jonathan slowed his pace and raised an eyebrow at hearing Pekah call his father “king.” He didn’t expect such an admission from a Gideonite. He dismissed it, however, and answered the question sincerely.
“Yes, Pekah,” he replied. “The Promised One is the same as the One who will come and rule in righteousness. He is the True Great King. He is also The One Who Would Suffer. Do you know of Whom I speak?”
“Yes-my mother taught me of this Great King.”
“Did she teach you He would suffer and die?”
“I don’t recall hearing that, but she said that one day a Great King would come and He would heal the sick and unite the tribes into one people. There are many among the Gideonites who believe this, but I didn’t know He would die.”
“Pekah, we call the Great King ‘The One Who Would Suffer’ because He will suffer pains and sorrows, and will be put to death by cruel and wicked men. Before Father Noah died and entered into his eternal rest, he told Daniel that the Promised One will not be of this world, but one far away. There are many worlds under the Creator’s care, and our world is but one of an innumerable host of them. He also said there will be a sign given when the Great King has been born, and this sign will point our eyes and our hearts to His mortal home in the heavens. After He fulfills His mortal time, He will die, but will be raised up with new life, never to die again. Then He will come to rule and reign among us for a time, here on Gan. He will visit all of His kingdoms, because He cherishes them all.”
Jonathan glanced sideways at Pekah, whose expression was earnest.
“I had no idea, Jonathan. I have never considered that the Great King would not be a man born among us. You say He lives in the heavens, and yet will find His way to our world?”
“Yes.”
Pekah paused. “Why will He die?”
Jonathan gathered his thoughts. The three men stopped underneath an immense oak tree and felt the mid-morning breezes whisk around them, rustling the leaves above. Azure and Aqua were now fully eclipsing, burning brightly together in the sky, and the shade felt good to Jonathan. Hearing water, he noticed that the trail had brought them close to the bubbling stream of the night before, but here the stream ran much slower and larger, having been joined somewhere by other sources.
“The answer to that question could be a long one. Do you mind if we stop to get a cool drink?” Jonathan asked.
They left the trail and drank, then refilled their water skins before returning to the shade of the tree, feeling refreshed. Jonathan saw that Pekah patiently waited for the conversation to continue, and he cleared his throat and began again.
“He will die for us. We sacrifice to remind ourselves that He will one day provide a lasting sacrifice, that we might live again.”
“We will live again, like Him?”
“Yes. The Great King will take up His body again, and He promises the same for us. Our bodies will then be whole. They will be immortal.”
Pekah frowned. “I have heard Him called the Holy One before, but I don’t understand. If He is holy, why will He do this?”
“You mean, because we are not holy like Him?”
“Yes.”
“Let me try again. We die, and we sin. The Great King will not sin, and yet He will die in the flesh and then live again that we might have mercy. He does it because He is merciful. Does that make sense?”
Pekah nodded.
“Not only that, but He claims all justice by this act. Justice and mercy-He claims them both. This way, we can come to Him, fully justified by Him, and find our rest, if we are willing to ask for His mercy. We will live again to stand before Him, to be judged of our actions in this life.”
Pekah was thoughtful. “Tell me more. How does this mercy come?”
“Let’s walk.” Worried about the time, Jonathan motioned toward the trail and took the lead.
Eli broke in at that point. “We are obedient. When we do wrong, we make it right. But we must covenant with the Great King that we will follow Him. He expects us to do as He will do. But to truly make claim on this mercy, there must be water, and blood, and spirit.”
Pekah scratched his head, obviously very confused. “What do you mean by water, blood, and spirit? I have never heard such a thing before.”
“Eli, may I?” Jonathan inserted.
Eli nodded.
“Under priestly authority, water is where we make our covenant. We lay down our body in the water, and promise ourselves to the Holy One. He then raises us up, a new creature. Blood is where the price of mercy is paid. The sacrifice of clean, unblemished animals shows us the price He will pay. It is by His blood that we will find mercy. By our covenant and commitment to do His will, we are His forever. And then if we do these things, we will feel the Spirit of God purging all desire to sin from our hearts. We will know for ourselves the love He has for all His creations. This is why He will die.”
Pekah was silent.
“You seem perplexed,” Jonathan observed.
“I’ve felt some of these feelings before in my life. My mother taught me about the Great King. Somehow, I think I have always known she was right. I felt this way when you and I talked by the stream-I felt my burdens lifted as we made our oath of peace and buried the weapon of Sachar. Is that the mercy to which you refer?”
Jonathan felt warmth in his soul. “Yes. That is exactly what I am talking about.”
“I think I understand. But…”
Jonathan pressed him to finish.
Pekah’s gaze fell, and he stopped walking. “I’m embarrassed to ask.” He stared off into the trees.
How can I help him? Jonathan silently prayed. I must not have explained it very well. Father was so much better at this than I am. Then an idea came to him-Pekah wasn’t confused about the Great King or why He died. He moved next to Pekah so he could see his face.
“This covenant can be made by any man or woman… or a Gideonite soldier who wishes to repair wrongs,” Jonathan said.
Pekah’s eyes went wide. “How did you know what…?” he stammered. He could not even finish the question.
“Sometimes I get ideas, especially when I pray. The Great King teaches me what to say and do. He loves you, Pekah. I have no explanation other than that.”
Tears filled the Gideonite’s eyes. He turned away to wipe them.
Jonathan stepped back to stand by Eli, who seemed pleased. He waited for Pekah to compose himself.
“Thank you,” Pekah said as he faced them.
Jonathan wondered if he wanted to talk more, but Pekah began walking again. Jonathan patted Eli on the shoulder, and the two of them followed.
The morning passed with very little conversation, each man lost in his own thoughts as they went along. Jonathan tried not to dwell on memories of his family, but couldn’t help it. Even the simplest of things-the sound of a bee, a green sapling leaning next to a fallen log, a round rock displaced from the stream-reconnected him to nearly forgotten experiences of long ago. Some of the memories brought back the loneliness he had felt at the passing of his mother. Others, like the memory of felling trees with his father for their winter store, strengthened him.
When they finally left the trail for a rest, it was mid-day. Jonathan was starting to get hungry. He attempted to suggest that they eat, but stopped short when he noticed the strange look on Pekah’s face. Before Jonathan could ask him what he was thinking, he spoke.
“I feel as if my eyes have been shut all of my life, and have just opened… it’s as though I’m seeing the light of day for the very first time. I think my mother tried to explain all of this to me, but just didn’t know how.” He looked at Jonathan, then at Eli, and then back again, his grin widening. “What must I do?”