A Story of God and All of Us

PART FIVE

SURVIVAL

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Jerusalem, 587 BC. Since the death of King Solomon more than three centuries ago, the superpower nations surrounding the Promised Land have been squeezing the life from Israel. Assyria has already conquered the northern portion. Zedekiah sits on the throne in Jerusalem as the king of Israel, but he is a mere vassal to the Babylonian empire, which has conquered another great chunk of the Promised Land. In exchange for the privilege of ruling his own people, Zedekiah pays an annual fee to the Babylonian king, Nebuchadnezzar.

Or at least he's supposed to. King Zedekiah has come to believe that the Babylonians are no longer a threat. It's been years since he's paid tribute, and he's even been convinced to conspire with the Egyptians, who promise to come to his defense should the Babylonians ever attack.

Many people of Israel are equally negligent in their respect for the God of Abraham. They ignore God in their search for divine guidance. Pagan gods and idol worship have taken the place of prayer. The act of sacrifice as a means to atone for sins or to seek God's blessing has also changed: instead of merely offering up a sheep or cow, the Israelites now offer up their own children on pagan altars outside the city of Jerusalem. A people that have been saved time and again by great men like Abraham, Moses, and Samson are as lost and arrogant as when God sent the great flood to wipe them all from the earth. Fifteen hundred years after God's covenant with Abraham, a thousand years since Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt, and four hundred years since the reign of David, they remain unfaithful to God.

But God is not absent, or silent. Through a small army of prophets God speaks and reassures the Israelites that He has plans for them--plans to 166

give them a hope and a future. The prophets tell the people of the day when God will send another great king to earth.

The Israelites ignore this good news, and they often treat the prophets as madmen or malcontents, because they are more concerned with the

immensely troubling here and now than with the future. King Zedekiah is hard-hearted and weak; his reign is one of fear and oppression. The religious leaders of Jerusalem have perverted the people, turning worship into an act of commerce and enriching themselves at the expense of the faithful. But time has passed, and Jerusalem is now under attack. Armies from the east have come and lain siege to the City of David, just as he once took it from the Jebusites.

Baruch Ben Neriah, a record keeper in the royal court--a scribe--bears witness to this descent into chaos. Baruch works for King Zedekiah, but he is also a man of God. He is one of the few in Jerusalem who have not turned their backs on the God of Abraham. He alone among the royal court admires Jeremiah, a dour, brutally honest man whom no one else cares for. Jeremiah has preached the same message from God to successive kings for forty years. Yet few have had the heart to hear.

Jeremiah is a prophet--one of the greatest of all time.

There is no money in being a prophet. Little chance for a family. Often abuse, scorn, ridicule. Perhaps even death. But then it is incumbent on a prophet to then share with others what God has spoken. That is tortuous, for most in Israel have absolutely no desire to hear what's on God's mind.

Baruch's admiration for Jeremiah is a secret, as is his faith in God. The scribe would lose his job if the king knew that he believed Jeremiah to be speaking the truth. So he keeps it to himself, finding solace and inspiration in the prophet's words, which serve as a regular reminder for Baruch to keep his focus on God and His covenant with Abraham to bless his descendants.

Baruch often prays for the strength to reveal his faith.

But God doesn't seem to hear him. So the scribe keeps his secret, even as Jeremiah risks his life for God.

And then one night, God answers Baruch's prayer. Baruch tries to

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concentrate on his work. Scrolls of parchment rest on the table before him, awaiting the words he will soon write upon them. Baruch is distracted, and with good reason. Just outside the walls of the city in which his cramped office sits, he hears the sounds of a religious sacrifice taking place. The sounds are all too familiar by now: a distraught mother, the cry of an infant about to be put to death, the chanting of the priests, the drums beating a dull and hollow rhythm, the chanting of the crowd so eager to see blood.

Baruch smells the incense and the wood smoke from the sacrificial fires. He stands to stretch his legs. Long hours of writing make his shoulders tight and make him feel a little dull in the head. A few minutes of walking around gets the blood flowing again, and helps him gather his thoughts. As Baruch stands to ease his mind, he finds himself pacing anxiously. He presses his eyes closed and lapses into a frustrated prayer. Sometimes he understands God, or at least he thinks he does. But at times like this, God's absence makes no sense. Where is His power? Where is His enduring love? "God,"

Baruch whispers, "I know You see all. Not just our actions, but also our hearts. I know that we defile Your name and Your love and Your laws. We do. And for that, there is no excuse. But I beg You, please... help us. Help those who are still true."

Baruch opens his eyes and peers out his window at the sacrifice. He's stunned to see that King Zedekiah has noticed him, and is glaring curiously in his direction. Baruch hastily sits down and unrolls a fresh scroll. Baruch is a timid man, terrified of the world beyond scrolls and scribes.

Suddenly, Jeremiah's loud and annoyed voice pierces the tumult.

"Sacrilege!" yells the man. "Faithless people! Have you forgotten the Lord your God?"

Baruch is back on his feet to see, as are all the court officials, the old man Jeremiah fearlessly wading through the crowd to stop the killing of the newborn whose body is laid across the altar on the hil side. Baruch wishes he had Jeremiah's courage, his fearlessness. Jeremiah seems almost eager to risk his life in the name of God. "You feed human life to a lifeless idol,"

rails Jeremiah. The elderly prophet is bearded, dressed in

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shabby clothes, and wears a perpetual scowl. For all his faith in the glories of God, Baruch can't remember a single time that he's seen Jeremiah smile.

"You turn your backs on the one who gives you life," continues Jeremiah.

"Repent. Return to God."

The palace guards hurl him to the ground and pummel him with fists and clubs as the crowd cheers them on. Despite all his passion and

righteousness, Jeremiah is a man without power. Most people of Jerusalem fear King Zedekiah far more than they fear God. Good men and women--like Baruch the scribe--do nothing. So evil triumphs. The battle for the soul of Israel is being lost. The chance for the Israelites to avoid God's judgment is slipping away. They have forgotten about Noah and the flood. They have forgotten what became of Sodom. They have certainly forgotten the many years their people were enslaved.

But the words of Jeremiah threaten the men who hold power, who fear that the people of Jerusalem might actually start listening to Jeremiah. So later that night, long after the sacrificial fires have burned to coals, and as Jeremiah struggles to sleep standing up in the palace stocks, Jerusalem's high priests and court officials order that his writings be seized. They read the scrolls by torchlight in the palace. King Zedekiah sits on a nearby throne.

This is not the first time that Jeremiah has riled the king.

"Return, faithless Israel," reads one priest in a voice that mocks Jeremiah's writings. "I will not look on you in anger. Admit your guilt--"

"What guilt?" screeches Zedekiah, reaching for his wine. "Angry about what?"

"That you rebelled against the Lord your God and that you have not obeyed His voice," explains the priest. "He's saying that God will let us live in peace if we change our ways."

"Change what ways?"

"By not shedding innocent blood or worshipping other gods."

It never occurs to Zedekiah to heed Jeremiah's words. As king, he believes



that his power is supreme. The notion that following Jeremiah's instruction will save the Israelites from a cruel fate has never crossed his mind.

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"I don't want to hear from this lunatic again," Zedekiah says. With a wave of his hand, he dismisses the issue forever. The priests know what to do next, and immediately set fire to Jeremiah's writings.

Smoke drifts across the palace courtyard. This was once the home to great kings like Solomon and David, so it is appropriate that a true man of God stands here. But his is not a position of power. Jeremiah is hunched, his head and wrists locked in the wooden stocks. Though he is an old man, deserving of respect, a pulsating wave of people walk past as the sun rises over Jerusalem. They could ignore him as they make their way to the well to fetch the morning water. Or they could easily find an alternate route on their way to the market for their daily bread. Instead, the abuse of Jeremiah has become a game. He is defenseless against the shouts of abuse. His beard is thick with spittle and vomit. Jeremiah accepts it. This is his lot in life.

Jeremiah knows he was marked out by God as a prophet before he was even born. "Why does the way of the wicked prosper?" Jeremiah asks God, hoping the conversation will help him endure this humiliation. "Why do all the faithless live at ease when the faithful are hunted down like dogs?"

Jeremiah's will has finally been broken. He no longer has the strength to speak God's message. His body aches each and every day from his many injuries. His head has been shoved to the ground and kicked more times than he can remember. He is a one-man army, fighting a weak king and a wayward people. He is alone. Always alone. Not a friend in the world. But this habit of talking to God has been with him a lifetime. When Jeremiah tires of the fight, God is his refuge and his solace. His comforter. God's words are a lamp unto his feet in times of darkness, showing him the way to go.

Jeremiah talks to God, if only out of that lifetime habit. "They will never hear,"

Jeremiah mumbles. "If I cannot open their hearts with truth, and help them remember the Lord's compassion, what else is left?"

God hears all prayers. He answers them in many ways. Jeremiah is at 170

his lowest ebb, and his prayers to God are answered by his one friend on earth: Baruch. The scribe hurries to the stocks, where he bribes the soldier standing guard to unlock the chains. The soldier is shocked to see a member of the royal court standing before him, wearing the brightly colored robes of his position. He takes the money and looks the other way.

"Why are you doing this?" Jeremiah asks, as Baruch drags him away. "If they find out, you'll lose everything."

Baruch would not ordinarily put himself at such great risk, but God has moved him to act, putting it upon Baruch's heart to help Jeremiah. So as he comes to Jeremiah's aid, he says the words God placed so carefully on Baruch: "I can no longer remain silent. I've seen you before. I've heard you speak. And I've always known that God is with you."

Baruch pulls Jeremiah into a small room in the temple. Finding a cloth and bucket of water, he cleans the scum off Jeremiah's face. But Baruch recoils as he begins to sponge the blood from the prophet's back, laid bare so many times by whips and beatings that thick, ropelike scars crisscross the flesh.

Jeremiah pulls away from Baruch. The scribe is about to apologize, thinking that the scars were Jeremiah's secret, and that he has somehow

embarrassed his new friend. But the prophet is clutching his head and struggling to his feet. Baruch instinctively reaches out to help, but Jeremiah waves him away and steadies himself on a nearby pillar. His whole body is convulsed, and his thoughts no longer reside in the present.

Baruch steps back, unsure of what he is seeing. Then Jeremiah begins chanting like a seer, channeling the words of God. "They have set up their detestable idols... defiled my house..."

The scribe is aghast as he realizes that it is not Jeremiah who is speaking.

Baruch is listening to the words of God, as God speaks them. He frantically hunts for a scroll to write it all down.

"Prepare yourself. I am bringing disaster from the North," Jeremiah continues. "I am bringing terrible destruction."

Baruch scribbles furiously.

"I will give their children over to the famine, hand them over to the 171

power of the sword," Jeremiah continues. "I will hand all your country over to



my servant... the king of Babylon. I will make even the wild animals subject to him."

Neither Baruch nor Jeremiah knows it, but this prophecy of God's wrath is all too real. King Zedekiah's betrayal of King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon is about to be punished.

"I will lay to waste the towns of Judah so that no man can live there,"

Jeremiah channels. "I will make Jerusalem a heap of ruins, a haunt of jackals. I will make the people eat the flesh of their sons and daughters."

Hand shaking, heart pounding, Baruch writes down every word. Baruch later tries to help Zedekiah understand the warnings and change his ways by surreptitiously making sure that the handwritten scrolls make their way to the king and his priests, but those words go unread.

Jeremiah's prophecy comes true. The enormous and terrifying Babylonian army is camped outside the walls of Jerusalem. It is too late to repent, and far too late to heed God's warnings. The Babylonians and King

Nebuchadnezzar have surrounded them, and the people of Jerusalem hear their battle horns, the bawled orders of field commanders, and the screams of captured spies being tortured. They smell the foreign foods on their cooking fires.

In a last great act of desperation, Zedekiah falls back on the God of his forefathers. He pleads with God to remember him and keep him safe.

Zedekiah promises with all his heart that he will never again worship false idols, and that Jerusalem will once again be a city that worships the one true God.

God doesn't answer Zedekiah's prayers. When the king climbs to the highest room in his palace and looks out into the distance, he sees the Babylonian army preparing to lay siege to Jerusalem. Every day their numbers grow larger, and every day their force grows closer and closer to launching the great attack that will doom Zedekiah's kingdom.

One of Zedekiah's priests comes to the king. The priest has noticed 172

that the handwriting on Jeremiah's scrolls matches that of Baruch. The scribe is immediately brought before the anxious, yet still haughty, king.

Baruch is neither arrested nor threatened with the loss of his job. Instead, his freedom is guaranteed on the condition that he find Jeremiah and bring him to Zedekiah.

The king terrifies Baruch. But he knows God's power, and he fears for the life of Jeremiah. In his most humble and contrite voice, he tells Zedekiah that he will not betray Jeremiah's location.

"I don't mean to harm him," Zedekiah promises, oozing sincerity. "I simply wish to ask him to speak to God on behalf of me and my kingdom."

A wary Baruch promises to return with Jeremiah.

He finds his new friend unshakable, as always. Jeremiah is determined to deliver a harsh new message to Zedekiah--and in a way that the king will never forget. Jeremiah finds a wooden yoke, the type that is used to tether cattle. With Baruch's help, he hoists it onto his narrow shoulders and staggers into the palace. A stunned silence greets Jeremiah as he enters.

The prophet looks preposterous, as if he will crumble under the weight of the yoke. But there is an undeniable fire in his eyes; no trace of fear or weakness is evident in Jeremiah's demeanor when he stands before the king.

"What is this?" snarls Zedekiah, weary that Jeremiah refuses to grovel before his king.

"This is you, as you will be under the yoke of Babylon."

"I will never succumb to Babylon," Zedekiah replies. "I called you here to speak to God on behalf of me and my kingdom."

Jeremiah continues on as if he hasn't heard the king. "If you're wise, you will listen to what I have to tell you."

"And what is that?"

"Bow your neck and serve. Submit to Babylon and you will live."

One of Zedekiah's courtiers springs upon Jeremiah, throwing the yoke to the ground. "Wretch," says the courtier with utter disdain. "How dare you tell your king to bow his neck?"



Jeremiah doesn't flinch. His face flushes in anger as he squares off 173

before his attacker. "No," answers Jeremiah. "How dare you question the words of your Lord God."

One of the chief priests says, "You wrote that we should repent and all will be well. That God will be with us," thinking he will make points with Zedekiah.

Jeremiah fixes the priests with a look of pity. He alone knows that Zedekiah's pride has already guaranteed Israel's fall. The Promised Land will now be Nebuchadnezzar's. Her people will be scattered and enslaved.

Her temple will be destroyed. This is God's prophecy--this is as God allows.

All the protestations of courtiers and high priests cannot stop this from happening.

"Look outside the walls. You're too late," says Jeremiah.

"Take him to the palace dungeon!" hisses Zedekiah.

Many months pass. Babylonian soldiers have been camped outside

Jerusalem since the day of Jeremiah's last appearance before the king. The walls are twenty-two feet thick and almost impenetrable. Inside the city, the people of Jerusalem are trapped and starving, deprived of food and much of their water supply by the Babylonian presence. Time has come for

Nebuchadnezzar to capture the city. Cooking fires are doused as the men of Babylon strap on their armor and sharpen their knives. Siege engines--those great towers on wheels that will allow soldiers to rain arrows down on the city--soon roll forth. At the city gate, the first wave of soldiers now runs a battering ram into the thick wooden entrance.

Zedekiah's army tries to hold the gate, but they are disorganized and weak from hunger, and they cannot withstand the Babylonians. It has been years since the Israelite army has taken the field. Their battle lines are chaotic and undignified. The Babylonians have drilled and battled without ceasing. Their lines are crisp and their discipline precise.

Zedekiah's pitiful resistance barely registers with the Babylonians. His army is swatted aside and his men gutted where they fall. The only question



remaining now is the degree of suffering that King Nebuchadnezzar 174

will inflict upon Jerusalem, and who among the Israelites will find a way to escape it. In the city streets, panic is everywhere. The flames of burning rooftops climb high into the nighttime sky. People desperately run through the streets, having no place to go.

Inside the palace, chaos reigns. Zedekiah has fled, sneaking out through the gate between the two walls near his garden. His wife and children, ministers, high priests, and entire army follow behind. They are bound for the Jordan valley called Arabah.

The palace dungeon has been emptied of all but one prisoner: Jeremiah.

Baruch makes his way through the empty palace. Its walls are lit by the burning city. The footsteps of his sandal-clad feet echo on the stone floor.

Baruch frees Jeremiah and ushers the prophet out of the palace. They race to the temple designed so long ago by David, cavernous, and usually a refuge of calm and tranquility. It is the spiritual home to God's covenant with the Israelites, where the Ark of the Covenant resides. It is about to burn to the ground. The few remaining faithful within the city are inside, working feverishly to save precious scrolls and religious artifacts. The Israelites hide the Ark of the Covenant in order to prevent it from being taken to Babylon. To this day, it has never been found.

Baruch and Jeremiah run from the temple, hoping to find a way to escape the city. They turn and take one last look back at the great building, its rooftop now licked by flames. Smoke billows into the sky. Screaming people fill the streets. Arrows launched by distant Babylonian archers plummet to the ground, killing people at random. The bodies will lie unburied, and vultures will come in the morning to pick the bones clean.

This is what the end of the Promised Land looks like.

Just as Jeremiah prophesied.

King Zedekiah's escape from the city has not gone at all well. The Babylonians pursued him and his army on their way to Arabah. The

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two sides met on the plains outside Jericho, where the Israelites once famously marched until the walls fell. Now the Babylonians have won the day, scattering Zedekiah's army and capturing him and his entire family.

They now stand on a roadside outside Reblah at dawn, in chains,

surrounded on all sides by Babylonian soldiers. King Nebuchadnezzar steps before them, a scowling man cloaked in battle armor. There is little that needs to be said: Zedekiah has not only been a disobedient subject, but he has made his punishment worse by forcing the Babylonians to lay siege to Jerusalem for so long. If only Zedekiah had done as Jeremiah warned.

Bowing down to Nebuchadnezzar would not have been pleasant, but it would have been much preferable to the sentence that the Babylonian king is about to pass down.

Zedekiah hears the sentence and howls in pain. Then, on a signal from the Babylonian king, the sentence is carried out.

First, Zedekiah's sons are brought before him. Zedekiah is only thirty-two years old, having ascended to the throne at a very young age. His sons are still children. He cherishes them--the sound of their laughter, their handsome looks, their athleticism and intellect. Zedekiah loves when they wrap their arms around him, and that special way they gaze with pride at their father.

On Nebuchadnezzar's command, soldiers step forth and slit their throats, one by one. When Zedekiah tries to look away, Babylonian soldiers grab his head and he is forced to watch.

The deaths of his sons are the last sight King Zedekiah will ever see, for after the murders are complete, King Nebuchadnezzar personally grabs a hold of Zedekiah's head and pushes his thumbs hard into his skul , blinding him. Zedekiah is then placed in special bronze chains and marched on the long and painful road to Babylon, where he will be a slave for the rest of his life.

Accompanying Zedekiah on that long march into captivity are the elite of Jerusalem. They too are now slaves of the Babylonians. Nebuchadnezzar doesn't take everyone to Babylon. It's the cream of Jewish society that he wants; the professional and educated are led off. Among

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them is a group of young friends named Daniel, Hananiah, Mischael, and



Azariah. On them rests the hope that the people of Jerusalem can one day find God and return.

But first they must find each other. For almost as soon as the deportation begins, they are separated in the great throng of refugees, pack animals, pushcarts, and soldiers, destined to make the long walk without the camaraderie of friends.

"Give me strength, oh God," prays Daniel. "Protect me and guide me, and one day, no matter how many years it takes, please forgive us our sins and allow our people to return to the Promised Land."

Just in case they had any idea about turning around and fleeing back toward Jerusalem, a watching soldier draws his sword, itching for the chance to run them through. From this day forward, their every movement will be scrutinized in this manner. Punishment will be swift and sure. Death will always be an option.

Welcome back to slavery, O Israel.

Fourteen generations of Israelites pass from Abraham to his descendant David. Another fourteen generations from David to the great deportation to Babylon. There will be fourteen more generations until the birth of Jesus, a direct descendant of David and of Abraham, with whom God made His covenant. Jesus will be sent to renew that covenant with God's people. The covenant is in desperate need of renewal. But that is fourteen generations in the future. Now, as a long line of bedraggled, weeping Israelites gaze upon the waters of Babylon for the first time, the covenant seems a thing of the ancient past. After a march of five hundred miles, they have finally landed in exile. The vast shining waters of the Euphrates River shine like steel in the sun. No one knows if they will ever see their beloved Jerusalem again.

But even as soldiers prod them to cross the water at a low ford, many of the Israelites fail to grasp why they are here. These people see their exile from the Promised Land in purely political terms, as if it were the

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natural order of things for one great army to conquer another, and the people of the vanquished land to suffer accordingly.

The faithful, however, know why they're here. When the others gnash their teeth and wail about their plight, the faithful remind them that the Israelites had forsaken God and served pagan gods in the Promised Land. But even the faithful wonder if God has turned His back on them forever.

Daniel, a cheerful, bright young man of twenty who is a distant relative of King Zedekiah, wades into the cool waters of the Euphrates and prays.

"God," he asks, "how will we ever find our way back home?" Daniel has always worshipped the God of Abraham, despite Zedekiah's wanderings.

He wades in deeper. The water soothes his aching feet and washes away the dust that coats his bare legs. "God," he pleads, "please come back to us."

Suddenly, Daniel loses his footing. The current sucks him under and sweeps him away. His body flails and tumbles in the current, and he swallows a stomach full of water. Daniel is not a swimmer--there was no need to learn to swim back in the dry environs of the Promised Land. So even though he battles to find footing, or at least to push his head above the surface, nothing works. He's been underwater only a few seconds, but it seems like forever. As low and near death as he's felt on the entire journey from home to captivity, those feelings are nothing compared with the terror of this instant.

Then Daniel feels the loving arms of Hananiah, Mischael, and Azariah grabbing him from the water, pulling his body from the current. They help him stand. Then the four of them--coughing, choking, and shivering--embrace.

In the midst of their worry and fear, the four of them find a way to laugh. The relief that laughter brings reminds them that God is there with them, watching over them, keeping them safe, protecting their hearts and minds and bodies from the hard realities of their new life in a pagan land.

They make a pact in the waters of the Euphrates as a hapless Daniel 178

gasps for air: they will stick together. If Daniel, Hananiah, Mischael, and Azariah are to remain alive, their friendship and compassion will be more important than ever. They don't have Jerusalem, but they have each other.

And they have God's promise for His faithful, which must sustain them through tests they cannot imagine. Daniel and his friends hug for a moment.

Then, cold and wet, but happy to have found each other, they move on again through the flow of the river.





Meanwhile, King Nebuchadnezzar is in no hurry to ford the Euphrates, to sleep in his own bed, or to revel in the delights of his harem, for the comforts of home no longer call to him. The king of Babylon has been two long years in the battle waiting for Jerusalem to fall, and the simple act of leveling Jerusalem and burning the entire city to the ground has whetted his appetite for more.

Nebuchadnezzar is not marching his army back to Babylon. He's guiding his army west into Egypt, that unconquerable desert land that the Pharaohs have ruled for more than two thousand years. But conquer it he does. And still Nebuchadnezzar wants more. With a thunderous sweep he lays waste to the land of the Pharaohs, then doubles back and sweeps through the civilized world. Every nation falls before him. His power is penultimate.

Thousands upon thousands of people who don't even speak his language cal Nebuchadnezzar "Lord" and "Majesty." His new subjects are not only Jews, but every tribe and nation from the River Tigris to the River Nile; from the sands of the great Arabian Desert to the great mountains that mark the gateway to what will one day become known as Europe. Nations that do not submit are put to the sword. Their women are raped. Their children are enslaved or simply left to starve.

Years pass. King Nebuchadnezzar returns home to enjoy the wealth and spoils of his vast kingdom. His subjects slowly and reluctantly adapt to their ruler and his ways. Generations of children are brought into the

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world and grow to adulthood never knowing any difference between

Nebuchadnezzar's customs and those of their forefathers. The Israelites unwittingly join in the worship of their king's pagan idols, having long lost even the memory of the God of Abraham. Those who do remember feel God has forsaken them. Most don't know who God is at all.

However, one Israelite--Daniel--has been blessed in a strange and powerful way during this time in exile. Now a man, he has adapted and risen to become Nebuchadnezzar's chief advisor. He has a God-given gift to interpret dreams and see visions, and he has chosen to honor that blessing by not defiling his body with the food and drink served at the royal court. His three good friends from home have enhanced their bond in the years since they left Jerusalem, and each of them also follows this diet.

But this gift comes with a certain peril. For once Nebuchadnezzar learned of Daniel's special ability to listen and hear God in all circumstances, the king inquires about the meaning of his own dreams.

On a spectacular morning, long before the desert heat can despoil the setting, Daniel stands at Nebuchadnezzar's side, next to the seated king's throne, in the shade of the palace's outdoor pavilion. Thousands upon thousands of Babylonians and Jews are being herded out of the city and onto a broad desert plain. Daniel watches with regret as the chief priests and soldiers of Babylon assemble on the plain. Drummers and musicians prepare to perform. Trumpeters raise their horns to their lips and await the signal to blow a loud triumphal note.

The subject of all this exuberant commotion is a giant golden statue. It is ninety feet tall and nine feet wide. The idea for the statue had come to the king in a dream, and he chose to test the soothsaying powers of his chief astrologers and magicians by having them describe the dream and what it meant.

The punishment for failure to relate the king's dream was death. None of them had the slightest idea what Nebuchadnezzar's dream meant. Daniel, however, was blessed by God with the ability to interpret the dream. He explained to Nebuchadnezzar that the dream was of a giant

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statue, which had a head of gold, the chest and arms silver, the belly and hips bronze, the legs iron, and the feet a mixture of ceramic and iron. The different parts of the statue signified the various kingdoms that would come to replace Babylon. Daniel also described a great stone that would fall upon and destroy the great statue, signifying that the Kingdom of God would be the last remaining empire. It showed the fragility of a king's power and the omnipotence of the one true God. To build such a statue would invite God's wrath.

Nebuchadnezzar was intrigued by this God of Daniel's, but he built the statue anyway. He chose to interpret the message as a signal to act more boldly. So he didn't just order that the statue be built, but that it also be made entirely of gold.

Now Nebuchadnezzar raises his royal arm. This is the signal the trumpeters have been waiting for. A single mellifluous note floats above the assembled thousands. Instantly, they all grow silent and drop to their knees in worship.

They are paying homage to the statue and, by proxy, Nebuchadnezzar.

Everyone bows: chief priests, soldiers, Jews, Babylonians. Everyone.

Daniel's worst fears are made manifest as his friends Hananiah, Mischael, and Azariah refuse to bow. They alone remain standing, refusing to honor any God but their own. "With all our heart, we follow You," Azariah prays aloud to the God of Abraham.

The trumpeters lower their horns. The desert plain is silent save for the screaming of the chief priests, who are demanding that the three faithful Jews fall to their knees.

"We fear and seek Your presence," the prayer continues. This time the words come from the mouth of Mischael.

Now guards are wading into the crowd, eager to beat on the insolent foreign slaves. But the three of them remain standing. Daniel looks on from the distance, his face grim as he knows the fate awaiting his friends. Yet he is proud that they refuse to worship false idols. "Oh, my dear friends. Your faith will be tested now," he marvels to himself.

Nebuchadnezzar is apoplectic with rage. This man who once blinded 181

King Zedekiah screams at Daniel, "Who's that? What's wrong with them?"

"My Lord," Daniel tells him. "They are only moved by God. They will not bow to any but Him."

Even as Daniel speaks, the guards seize his friends. Daniel follows close behind as Nebuchadnezzar bolts from his throne and makes his way out from his shaded awning. The crowd parts instantly as the king strides toward the miscreants. Daniel hurries alongside. Ahead of him, he sees his friends'

hands being bound.

"They will serve you faithfully all their lives, as I will," Daniel reassures Nebuchadnezzar, searching for the soothing words that will calm the king.

"But--"

"But what?" Nebuchadnezzar replies.

So Daniel continues. "Please understand, Majesty, that only God can be worshipped."

A chief priest has joined them. He knows that Daniel gained prestige by interpreting the king's dream, and is eager to reassert his own authority. "Is that some nonsense you foreigners believe? That your God has more power than our glorious king?"

Daniel says nothing. This is not the time to argue with a priest.

It's Nebuchadnezzar who breaks the silence. "Your friends will bow--or I will make them bow."

But even when the guards try to force the three Israelites to their knees, they do not utter a word of worship to King Nebuchadnezzar. They seem fearless, which unleashes the king's legendary temper. "King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter," they tell him. "If we are thrown into a blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and He will deliver us from Your Majesty's hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up."

"What do we do with something that won't bend?" Nebuchadnezzar screams, whirling around in anger. "We throw it into a fire."

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The words are like a dagger into Daniel's heart. Nebuchadnezzar stares straight at him as he addresses his guards: "Burn them."

A soldier immediately douses them with oil. A second soldier runs toward the prisoners, carrying a torch. Nebuchadnezzar grabs his arm, taking ahold of the torch himself. In one swift moment, he throws the torch at the three Israelites.

Whoosh.

A fireball erupts as each man is set aflame.

Nebuchadnezzar smiles in satisfaction and turns to his priests so that they may share in his joy. All the while, Daniel is praying as hard and fervently as



he possibly can: "The Lord hears my weeping. The Lord hears my cries for mercy. The Lord accepts my prayers."

As Daniel prays, his voice grows more steady and sure. He does not fear for his friends any longer, for he knows that God is near. In the midst of the flames and billowing smoke he sees the silhouette of a fourth figure standing guard over Hananiah, Mischael, and Azariah. The fiery silhouette offers a blessing to the three men.

"The Lord hears my weeping. The Lord hears my cries for mercy. The Lord accepts my prayers," Daniel says softly.

This is not an apparition that only Daniel can see. Nebuchadnezzar's face has grown white as he sees this mysterious presence. His chief priests are mumbling incantations, summoning their own gods to protect them. These men have claimed to be spiritual their whole lives, and yet this is the first time they've actually seen and felt the presence of God.

"The Lord hears my weeping. The Lord hears my cries for mercy. The Lord accepts my prayers," Daniel continues praying.

The flames go out. The three kneeling figures of Hananiah, Mischael, and Azariah are wreathed in smoke. As the smoke billows away, the three men rise. They are completely unharmed and do not even smell of smoke. Tears in his eyes, Daniel gives a humble thanks to God.

As his chief priests turn and leave, desperate to escape any wrath that this God of Daniel's might want to inflict, Nebuchadnezzar sinks to his 183

knees. He grasps Daniel's leg in an act of supplication and something else.

Something that Daniel has prayed for for many, many years.

That something is faith. Nebuchadnezzar is deeply impressed by the power of God.

In the grandstand of Nebuchadnezzar's folly, God showed up. His power is there for the entire world to see. Guided by Daniel, Nebuchadnezzar soon allows the captive Jews to worship their God in peace.

Time passes. The great king of Babylon is going insane; he is guarded around the clock. His subjects are not allowed to view him in this state, for Nebuchadnezzar behaves like a wild dog. Rational discussion about setting the Israelites free is out of the question. Yet even as he crawls about on hands and knees, his hair matted, and his movement restricted by the size of his royal kennel, he is still very much the king.

Over the more than twenty years that Daniel has been in slavery to Nebuchadnezzar, their relationship has deepened. Daniel is no longer just a servant, nor merely a respected member of the court. He is indispensable to the king, performing a vast number of bureaucratic and ceremonial duties that ensure the Babylonian empire runs smoothly on a day-to-day basis.

Even in the depths of his madness, Nebuchadnezzar still feels a deep admiration for this foreigner's faith and efficiency.

So if anyone can persuade Nebuchadnezzar to set the Israelites free, it's Daniel. But Daniel, of course, is now irreplaceable.

It's the middle of the afternoon as a bolt is pulled back on Nebuchadnezzar's royal dungeon. A heavy door opens. Daniel, now in his early forties, enters.

As two Babylonian priests watch from outside, he fearlessly delivers a golden chalice of water to the king's cage in the darkened center of the room.

Suddenly, a head lunges into a narrow beam of sunlight. The king bites at a plate of food on the floor, and then he disappears back into the shadows. All that Daniel can see of Nebuchadnezzar is that tangle of

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unwashed hair and beard, and the pair of dark, malevolent eyes staring hard at him.

"Behold the greatest king and lowliest man on God's earth," Daniel whispers. "See where your pride has brought you. And my people are just as trapped in Babylon as you are in that cage."

Daniel says this last sentence as a heavy lament. This is out of character, for Daniel is known for his cheerful heart. He hears himself speak, and he asks God's forgiveness for not being thankful. Daniel looks down upon his earthly lord and master. Then he carefully places the golden cup onto the floor. The priests still look on, not sure what Daniel has in mind.

"Shh," Daniel says soothingly. "Come here. It's all right"



Nebuchadnezzar slides forward on all fours and laps at the water like a dog.

Softly, Daniel informs the king about the new prophecies about the fate of the Israelites--and the Babylonians. "I'm sorry to inform you of this, sire,"

Daniel says, making sure the chief priests cannot hear. "He will take pity on the Israelites. He says Jerusalem must be rebuilt, and that the temple's great foundations must once again be laid."

The words mean nothing to Nebuchadnezzar. He is too far gone.

The prophecy comes true, but not immediately. Twenty-three years after Nebuchadnezzar's death, during which four weak corrupt kings rule, a new king gallops toward Babylon. He rides a splendid white horse and leads an army tens of thousands strong. This man is from the east, and he wears a heavy gold crown, lest anyone not know that he is king. For three years, this king of all Persia has swept across the land. He has conquered everything in his path, and now he rides forth to take control of Babylon. This is his greatest prize of all: his gateway to the west and the south, possessor of the plundered riches of Egypt and Israel.

High on a tower in a center of the city, Daniel stands among a group of royal ministers, watching the coming army. Among the group are his lifelong friends, Hananiah, Mischael, and Azariah. They are all in their sixties now, and they have spent the vast majority of their lives in this foreign land. But they do not call it home. They never will. They don't fear

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the new king--they welcome him. To them, he is a liberator. Daniel has studied the new king, and knows that the people in every territory that the Persian conquers have been left free to live and worship in their own traditions. Daniel smiles and says, "He will set us exiles free."

The chief priests have been wreaking havoc on the city. They have banned prayer. They have even murdered Babylon's latest king as a symbol of their loyalty to the Persian king. As Daniel and his friends descend from the tower and walk into the city's main square, they see precisely what the chief priests have done: the king of Babylon swings from a gallows, his neck broken. His legs are bound at the ankles and his arms behind his back. There is no cloak covering his face, he stares at his former subjects with lifeless eyes.

The chief priests smirk, refusing to let the soldiers of Babylon cut him down until this new king can see what they've done. The priests hope to curry favor by allowing the new king to enter Babylon without a fight. As Daniel and his friends look on, the chief priests order the Babylonian guards to pull back the giant wooden bars that secure the massive, impregnable doors to the city, and the guards follow their orders without hesitating. With heavy hearts the soldiers of Babylon watch the Persian army gallop in, their swords sheathed, knowing the new king's men will surely cut them down and feed their bodies to the vultures.

The Persian king rides into the city square and gazes upon his latest conquest. No ruler greets him; no one formally hands over control of the city.

The chief priests, for all their cunning, are afraid to confront him. The Babylonian soldiers lie prostrate on the ground, hoping this act of subservience will save them.

Daniel, Hananiah, Mischael, and Azariah walk to the center of the courtyard, striding past the assembled Persian soldiers, courtiers, and mounted lords.

The chief priests instantly find their courage, not wanting Daniel to speak with the new king before they have their say. Daniel might insist that this bold Persian ruler put them to death. The panicked

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priests race forward to greet their new king, singing great hymns in his honor, until the new king is swallowed up by his welcoming committee.

As royal advisor, only Daniel has the sovereign right to negotiate with a king.

As he makes his way forward, he has every intention of asking that the Israelites be set free from bondage, in fulfillment of the Persians' very specific role in God's prophecy.

But before Daniel can draw near to him, a pair of powerfully built priests take hold of his arms and steer the aging Daniel off to the side. "I must speak with the king," Daniel protests. "He wil be expecting me."

"Of course," oozes one of the priests, "but as you can see, the king is busy.

We have made special arrangement for a private audience. Please come this way."

Daniel watches helplessly as the new king is escorted away. Then he is ushered into the palace and left there to wonder what the priests are planning.

Twelve long hours later, just as night falls, Daniel finds out. He stands inside the Persian king's new throne room, surrounded by a circle of priests. They point, jeer, shout, and hurl accusations and insults at him.

Daniel turns from one accuser to another, saying nothing but processing every charge directed his way. The new king, who has become wise in many years of conquest, knows better than to interfere with religious proceedings. He listens quietly, studying Daniel and the priests.

One of the priests steps close to Daniel. He looks him up and down, as if examining an exhibit at the zoo. The priests sniffs, and rears his head in disgust. "Sorcerer," he accuses Daniel. "You call on demons. Don't deny it."

This piques the Persian's interest. "How so?" he demands from his throne.

"He infected the mind of his previous lord, the great King

Nebudchadnezzar," hisses the priest. "He turned him into a raving animal!"

Daniel's face is impassive. His faith demands that he fear no man. He looks almost bored. These charges are nothing new. "And he's not alone," cries another priest. "Why, his three friends once defied death with the help of a fire demon."

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"And he prophesied the ruin brought on by Babylon's rulers. He even told the last king, 'You have been weighed and found wanting. Your kingdom wil be divided--' "

Daniel seizes the opening. " '--and given to Persia." He turns toward the king. "I prophesied that Babylon would be given to you, King. It was God's will."

The priests won't be denied. "But who's to say you won't call on this demon god to do the same again?"

"God is just." Daniel's eyes are like ice as he cuts the man off. "The righteous have nothing to fear."

The priest seethes. He is a man of many gods. "We don't know this god," the priest fires back, ignoring Daniel to address the Persian king directly.

Daniel's great mistake is battling with the priests instead of appealing to the rational wisdom of a wise ruler.

The priest continues: "Who's to say having another new king, and then another, and then another, will be his god's will, too? Surely I say to you that this man is a sorcerer and not to be trusted. That is why we have banned prayer, an edict we believe you will find wise to let stand."

The king stares at Daniel. This is his chance to convince him of the need to let the Israelites leave. "May I offer one more of God's prophecies?" Daniel asks humbly.

A priest interjects. "No, you demon. No more of your weasel words."

But the Persian king now holds up a hand for silence. He nods his assent.

Daniel approaches the throne. "This is it, sire: there is a king of whose right hand I take hold of, to subdue nations before him and to strip kings of their arms, to open doors before him so that gates will not be shut." He bows.

"Well, he would say that, wouldn't he?" cries a priest.

The new king watches Daniel's eyes carefully, searching for signs of misdirection or embellishment. Daniel's gaze never wavers, and even as the Persian responds to the priest's accusation, the king finds himself 188

intrigued by this Israelite and his ability to remain calm and cool in the face of such rage.

"Yes," the king responds. "Any normal man might--whether it was true or not."

The new king is torn: he has inherited a powerful priesthood, whose cooperation will be crucial to a smooth government. But on the other hand, the priests clearly fear Daniel's God. He must be wise in choosing sides.

Should I fear Daniel's God, too? the king wonders to himself. Or are these Jews and their God more trouble than they're worth? His policy of appeasement, which has worked so well throughout his many conquests, suddenly feels precarious.

Then al the action comes to a screeching halt as Daniel begins behaving in an odd manner. He is still, but his eyes are closed. The king sees him mouthing words, but he is not sure whether Daniel is praying to his God or summoning a demon. One thing is for certain: Daniel is offering absolutely



no respect to his new ruler.

The Persian suddenly rouses himself, like a lion waking from his slumber to go on the attack. He rises to his feet and roars his response, shaking up everyone in the room and bringing an abrupt end to Daniel's mumblings. "I am king of the world. Great king. Mighty king. King of Babylon. King of all the Jews in my land. And my judgment is this: from this day forth, the Jews will desist from their practices and rituals." He strides out of the chamber, leaving behind a stunned Daniel and a band of smirking and self-satisfied priests.

They gaze with smug happiness at Daniel, who is left feeling crushed and betrayed.

The prophecies of Isaiah have been proven false. Daniel's long-cherished dreams are in ruins--and not just his dreams but those of the entire Jewish population. For more than forty years God's chosen people in exile have clung to this thin strand of hope. Daniel's shoulders slump as he walks from the throne room, a broken man. He finds a spot in the corridor and presses his forehead against the cool stone walls, desperately trying to make sense of what has just happened. He

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responds to the setback the only way he knows how: "Oh, dear God. I've failed Israel. I've failed you. We're further from freedom now than ever before.

How could I not have seen this coming? Why didn't I say more?"

But prayer has been banned in the Persian ruler's kingdom. As Daniel prays in the corridor, the high priests walk past and eagerly take note. Breaking the king's command means an automatic sentence of death, and Daniel is clearly doing just that. The king will hear about this act of disobedience.

Daniel is arrested and thrown in the dungeon. The guards, who normally strut about completely fearlessly, seem skittish and to suffer from a lack of nerve as they quickly open the gate, push him inside, and quickly slam it shut. Their bravado returns only when Daniel is safely locked away. Unlike the chief priests, they do not gloat and instead turn away from Daniel with a look of sadness. They know him well, having observed him in the royal court for years and years. Daniel has never been known to speak angrily, talk down to those beneath him, or gossip. His poise under pressure is legendary. Daniel is humble and upbeat at all times. The guards never see such behavior from other members of the royal court, whose haughty manners and slippery words often make them feel like a lower form of life.

Locking Daniel in the dungeon is one of the hardest orders they've ever had to carry out.

Daniel is puzzled. It's just the dungeon. He can endure the solitude of prison.

Perhaps the king will change his mind about the death sentence. All things are possible with God. He turns from the door to examine his new home. The only light comes in through the slatted bars of the door. Daniel squints into the darkness. The cell is enormous. At the far end he can make out the sleeping figures of other prisoners. The men seem to be abnormally large, and as Daniel takes a step toward them, he notices that they have an unusual odor. The men are almost feral.

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Daniel steps cautiously closer, careful not to startle them. But he suddenly realizes these are not men. This is not a prison cell. A shot of adrenaline courses through his veins and his heart seizes in fear as the shapes make themselves known. A horrified Daniel realizes that he has been hurled into the lion's den. The new Persian king has not just condemned him to death; he is putting an end to all talk of the God of Abraham by having Daniel's body torn to shreds.

Daniel is about to become the example of what happens in the new ruler's kingdom when a man prays. He will be eaten alive. His flesh will be ripped from his bones, even as his screams for help echo through the corridors.

Children will be told of this day as a reminder that the Persian is the only king.

Daniel stands completely still as one of the lions stirs. It is a male, his face wreathed in a mane of unruly fur. The animal's body stretches at least eight feet long, and his massive paws are as big as Daniel's head. The lion sniffs the air. He rises and walks slowly toward Daniel, the thick pads of those magnificent paws not making a single sound on the stone floor. Then it roars. The sound is like death itself. Primal wiring in Daniel's brain urges him to turn and run. But he doesn't; that would be madness. A tear forms in the corner of Daniel's eye as the lion saunters toward him. Daniel falls to the ground and curls his body into a very small ball. The smallest he can possibly make. The damp floor of the cell feels calming against his cheek as he awaits the death that is soon to come. The other lions are awake now.

Daniel doesn't know how many. Could be three. Could be six, for all he knows. They roar and grunt as they assemble. Daniel squeezes his eyes closed, knowing that there is absolutely no way to fight these beasts.



But then he remembers a way. "Lord, hear me. We do not make requests of You because we are righteous, but because of Your great mercy," he prays to God. A sense of calm fills Daniel as he awaits death. He realizes God is providing this peace. So he continues: "Thank You, Lord. Thank You for my life and its many joys. Thank You for Your love. And thank You, even now, for what is about to happen. For I

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know that it is Your will, and that some greater good will come from my death."

He pulls himself into an even tighter ball. The lions now stand over him.

Daniel knows how prey on the great desert plains must feel as a pride looks down upon it, preparing to enjoy a feast. He feels utterly defenseless. The tears flow now, pooling on the floor. Daniel thinks of the people he loves and whom he will never see again. He thinks of the majesty of a sunrise, and the magnificence of the stars shining in the nighttime sky. All these wonders of life are about to be taken away in a burst of pain and terror.

"Your words are heard," says a voice.

Slowly, cautiously, Daniel raises his head. A tear slides from his cheek.

An angel stands before him. "You are innocent in the eyes of the Lord," the angel says.

That instant, all Daniel's fear vanishes. His tears dry. His optimism returns.

He uncurls himself from his tiny ball and rises to his feet. Daniel stands before the lions, completely unafraid. Whatever will happen, will happen.

The lions are God's creations, no different from man. And God has dominion over all of His creations.

Daniel is ready for anything.

Daniel and his God are haunting the Persian king's dreams. He wakes in a panic, seeing the truth for the first time, and he quickly gets out of bed.

Throwing on a robe, he races through the palace toward the dungeon. He is desperate to save Daniel, knowing that failure to do so will result in God's wrath being brought down on his kingdom.

The king is new to the palace. He runs past walls lit by torches, making



wrong turn after wrong turn in his search to find the dungeon. "Your God is real," he chants as he runs, "your God will save you. Your God is real, your God will save you." A long hallway finally leads to the stairwell down into the dungeon. "Open it!" the new king screams into the night. "Open it!"

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The baffled guards aren't sure what terrifies them more: the thought of reopening the dungeon, or the spectacle of this all-powerful Persian king running through the night, strangely bent on saving Daniel's life.

"Please," he pleads, praying openly to Daniel's God, "let it be so, Lord."

The thick wooden door is flung open. The king steps inside. His guards draw swords and move to go with him, but he waves them away. One of them hands him a torch, which he accepts. The flames reveal a sleeping lion.

They also reveal a sleeping Daniel, his head resting quite comfortably on the lion's chest.

The Persian gazes upon the sight in utter disbelief. Daniel is completely unharmed. The king swings his torch from lion to lion to lion--all are asleep.

A dumbfounded king remembers the words Daniel once spoke to him,

quoting the prophet Isaiah, "whose right hand I take hold of to subdue the nations before him, and to open doors before him, so that gates will not be shut."

Daniel stands. The king drops his torch and embraces him. Then the two men fall to their knees in prayer.

The years of exile are now at an end. The Persian decrees that the Jews may return to Jerusalem, taking the treasures looted from their temple so that it might be rebuilt.

Forty thousand Israelites soon march westward, back to their Promised Land. As the line of exiles marches into the late afternoon sun, Daniel will not be joining them. This is his life and his home now. He and Azariah watch the Jewish people leaving with the temple treasures. As Azariah sighs with pleasure, Daniel tenses. Sensing his friend's anxiety, Azariah turns to him.

"What's wrong?" he asks. Daniel explains and feels a bold new prophecy being revealed to him: There will be enormous tests for the Israelites. They will turn away from God again, and other nations will conquer and enslave



them.

Daniel has seen a vision of a great beast, dreadful and terrible and incredibly strong, with iron teeth, that will devour the entire world. But 193

Daniel has also had another vision, of the son of man, come to save the world, who will be given glory, authority, and sovereign power. Peoples, nations, and every language group will worship him. He will be called Prince of Peace, Holy of Holies, Lord God Almighty. Descended from the lineage of David, this man, like his forefather, will be called King of the Jews. Though he will rule over a very different kingdom.

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