The Eternal Jew’s Tale, #208, Messiahs, 3

In this episode Eliezer prays and Rome retreats in dismay.
{Note: for the reader’s convenience, I have labeled the speaker/thinkers for the first part of this story. I leave off with those labels when they become largely superfluous.}

The Eternal Jew’s Tale
Messiah Tractates, a Montage
Bar Koseva Fragments, 2

Skirmish and ambush. Charge and retreat. Bar Koseva’s name on every lip:

Soldier:
‘Our savior prince, our King David.’

Armory raids and fired blockades. Assassinations. No safe place.

Soldier:
The Anointed One. King of the Jews. Akiva declares it. It must be true.

Rome staggers like a wounded bear. The Roman gladiators on their knees.

Soldier:
Bar Kokhba he is, son of the star. He will soon be crowned in Jerusalem.

Eliezer’s thoughts:
… we are chosen, a nation of priests…
… I am chosen; my purity allows my Voice to be heard, my prayers to call down the Lor’s will…
… I’m so weary, Lor… how long can I continue to straighten this bent world?…
… Lor, You are like a wild horse that I must saddle, that I must ride at full gallop to trample Rome…
… I the anointed High Priest…
… I the embodiment of Elijah’s soul…
… I the messianic power of God…
… I, Eliezer, a clod of clay…

A year later.
Bar Koseva has rallied legions to his camp, and re-impressed Roman coins with an Ark of God and a seven-branched palm. Rome cowers behind walls…

Eliezer’s thoughts:
… the true messiah now reigns and he grips the scepter of God…
… go forth and conquer in My name…

And then from Britain, Severus, and titan Rome, the god of war lumbers in; the earth quakes.

… now the final battle looms…
… chthonic Zeus dares defy
the dread whirlpool of Adonai…
… like Babylon, whose victory brought on the backwash of God’s revenge, so now will Rome be brought to ruin and the pendulum of God’s Law will reverse, bringing justice down…

“Go Koseva, ride the stroke of God’s impelling pendulum! *Nora t’hilot oseh felleh.* {*-* awesome in praises, working wonders}
“Soon, soon I’ll surely hear the shofar shriek in victory…”

… what are these, these stragglers?…
… who are these, dumbfounded men?…
… why the horror in their eyes?…
… tell me, where is Bar Koseva?…

And now Bar Koseva approaches, bloodied, bewildered, infuriated.

“Soldiers, are you lapdogs of Rome? Where is your strength? Where your will that you turned your backs and ran away? And you, High Priest, anointed one, you whose prayers enlarged our spirits with God’s might, with God’s right, has God’s lightnings burned you out? Or has our adulation and pomp replaced the grueling yoke of prayer with feather beds and sweet curds? Israel, you wrestlers with God and man, renew yourselves!”

Up rises a shout as if the earth were rent in two with molten wrath, and all of Rome in terror quakes.

‘Such our will and such our strength, divine rebirth, divine breath, and many skirmishes flicker and flair, and many Romans stagger and fall. And tho we chase a hundred with one, Rome persists and we despair. Our prince flames out, tirade and storm, and I repair to penance and prayer, fasting by day and afflictions by night, begging alms and sleeping in the street, that the Lor may hear and restore Hem strength.’

… Lor, unleash Your wrath on me if that will salve Your wrath on us…… or turn your lash on lupus Rome whose insults befoul Your holy Name…
… *for the sins that we have sinned against You*… {*-* first words of the confessional prayer}
… I have sinned in arrogance; I have sinned in faithlessness; I have sinned in careless prayer; I have sinned in rebellious thoughts…

… curse You Lor for failing me…
… Lor, Lor, don’t hear, don’t see…
… and yet, of course, You always see…
… see my failure, punish me and save me from my evil side…

… turn your lash on lupus Rome…
… break their will and break their sword…
… break their hearts like Babylon…
… erase their land, erase their name…
… Lor, rebuke Your enemies…
… Lor, restore Your earthly throne…
… Lor, reward Your High Priest…
… on Koseva instill Your crown…
… Lor, anoint messiah now…
… surely God can hear my prayer…
… surely now our will shall prevail…
… or do I come with empty hands, empty hopes, empty soul…
… *hineni, hosheya na* {*-* Here I am; save, please}

And yet, the crown of Israel has its pearls plucked, one by one, out of its gilded circumference. Behold, our presence chokes and contracts til our tropes only protect Betar.

And Eliezer, like a leper at the gate, weak with hunger and many sores that won’t heal in the icy rain, like a dried-out mandrake, gnarled and gray.

… release Your wrath on me, Lor but turn Your face to Your holy land, Your right hand, Bar Koseva…
… heal our broken spirit, Lor…
… our broken shield, our broken Rock…

Yet wave after wave of Roman storm crashes against Betar’s walls; backwash, spray, and wretched roar, and still Betar repels the brunt.

… is my penance, is my prayer the barrier that will not break?…
… am I the true one that stands anointed?…

~~~~~~~~~~

In the next episode Hadrian sends a spy…