“My son, if you come to serve ADONAI, prepare your soul for temptation. Set your heart upright, constantly endure, and do not rush in times of calamity. Cling to Him, and do not depart so that you may be honored in the end.”
—Chapter II, The Book of Ben Sira
In the village beyond the wood, a small community of settlers prepare for the last days of summer, gathering the remaining harvest. Each garden yields summer crops of assorted vegetables, some vining legumes, and always Moluccan and Hongfeng Cai spinach. This small community, nestled at the base of Mount Moriya at the edge of the dense woodland in Shinano Province, dates back to when families bearing strange customs and seasonal celebrations fled persecutions. Their tight community sustains one another throughout the winter months, and this is how it has been.
There is much to be done. Z’man Simchateinu, the Season of Our Rejoicing, is upon them. They gather and dry local grasses for the building materials of their temporary ceremonial booths, recalling ancestral wanderings and God’s provision. They are still wandering, cast from inhospitable lands or peoples. Yet, eager to retain their ways, they cling to their ancient teachings and strange customs.
At present, they are preparing for their season of rejoicing. They will sleep, eat, and celebrate God’s abundant harvest for eight days. Though each family builds a booth, a communal effort is made to construct a central booth for all to gather on the first and last days of the festival. At their house of worship, they will offer praises, minchah grain, and burnt offerings to God—thanksgiving for His faithfulness in every season.
Preparations for a similar celebration occur in the nearby town of Kamisha at the shrine, Honmiya. Here, too, the festival of Misayama honors the bountiful harvest and good health for the children. Since the priests live in straw huts during the festival, some call Misayama the “Straw Hut Festival.”
Other similarities between these neighboring communities, the Yehudim and the Shinto, raise questions about shared relations. Both communities wear fringes on the corners of their garments. Their men place small black boxes on their foreheads while worshipping. Both carry their words of faith in scrolls and construct two-room houses of worship. Yes, there are similarities, yet much divides them as well. Sometimes, they collide.
For the Yehudim, the only and true God, HaShem, gives celestial signs. These signs are harolds of divine judgment, significant events, or an approaching storm—both spiritual and natural. So when a rare cosmic alignment of the autumnal equinox and the celebration of Booths coincides, their hearts give way to speculations and fear. The moon is uncharacteristically full and bright for this year’s harvest festival. Skeletal tree limbs wave their bony fingers and belie the lingering autumn warmth. Tensions rise over this otherwise joyous occasion, for these are signs of portents to come.
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After long minutes, Zakah opens a glimpse out into the garden. Seeing nothing except the swaying trees from an ascendant breeze, she steps out from behind the door. An inspection of the tangled Moluccan spinach reveals partially eaten and trampled vegetation. “So I didn’t imagine it,” she whispers to the breeze.
A visit to family and friends in the village will be soothing, so she gathers a sachel and collects gifts from her bountiful gardens, including sprigs of medicinal bidens alba and moringa.
Returning to her cottage in the wood, Zakah breathes deeply the scent of the forest, a calming breath as she draws water from her well. She fills her jar, washing each hand three times while reciting the brachah, lingering over the part about the ruach ra’ah or impure spirit. Powdered moringa, curry, and katuk provide an earthy accent to her rushed breakfast. She is quickly out the door and on her way, meandering the narrow path that winds down the wooded slope to her nearby village.
“I will show wonders in the heavens and on the earth— blood, fire, and pillars of smoke. The sun will be turned into darkness and the moon into blood, before the great and awesome day of Adonai comes” (Joel 3:3-4, TLV).
Zakah’s unraveling journey (see Part 1) and others who join will take her into a darkness that would shake their world. A tsunami of God’s outpouring Ruach must sweep the region and bring messianic revelations, forbidden by Shogun Ieyasu. Rival gods challenge their newfound faith, which must replace fear of encroaching darkness when deep connections to heritage and love for one another open the door to the Light.
This tale is fictional, of course, but evil never sleeps. Neither does HaShem. And so the battle continues in each generation. What can we learn from the past, and how can the next generations prepare?
Yeshua warned his disciples of a coming spiritual warfare, reminding them to be ever-vigilant and stalwart in their faith and love for each other. They believed His return was imminent. When He did not return in their lifetime, setting up His earthly reign, they wrote to one another letters of encouragement that His coming was not slow but merciful and that many more would believe.
Yeshua has not yet returned, but signs of His coming are increasingly apparent. The most obvious was the creation of the State of Israel on May 14, 1948. The prophet Isaiah asks, “Before she was in labor, she gave birth. Before her pain came, she delivered a male child. Who has heard such a thing? Who has seen such things? Can a land be born in one day? Can a nation be brought forth at once? For as soon as Zion was in labor, she gave birth to her children” (Isa. 66:7-8, TLV).
The Holocaust was a demonic tactic to rid the earth of the Jews; no Jews, no Jewish return. The enemy knew the significance of the rebirth of Israel and fought to bring her down in her infancy. But really, are these tactics any different than the centuries upon centuries of pogroms against the Jews? Perhaps the killing machine has become more efficient, but an ancient and evil hatred powers it.
Yeshua talks about worldwide deceptions and ever-more-turbulent climatic events (Matt. 24). Are we creating weather in an attempt to prevent the weather that some say humanity is creating?
He tells us that corruption and immorality will be as they were in Noah’s day. Daniel reveals that knowledge will abound and that a system of government will be universal. John picks up Daniel’s warning in Revelation 12-13. The Dead Sea Scrolls include similar warnings in 1 Enoch and the War Scroll. The Book of Ben Sira, a rabbinic text, reads like the Proverbs, granting wisdom, especially in times of strife. History is replete with attempts to conquer the world and eliminate the divine moral codes and their stewards—the Jews. These are the lessons of the past.
To this, encourage followers, as our apostolic fathers did for one another. Stand firm on God’s moral codes and support their stewards—the Jews. We will face scoffers, so study. Uphold the weak and give as God puts in our hands to do for others. Discern truth through His teachings. Above all, love God and love others. To God be the glory.
Blessings—