”The Hope of Glory” is a realistic fiction short story inspired by the biblical account of Jesus Christ’s birth and subsequent ministry. The story is not intended to be viewed as scripture or an attempt to “fill in gaps.” Rather it is a fiction narrative prayerfully created to celebrate the real birth of Christ and God’s faithfulness to deliver His perfect promises. Namely, salvation for sinners through faith in Jesus Christ.
Broken up into 5 short “chapters,” each chapter begins with a verse that corresponds to the over arching theme of the story. I hope the story creates in you a desire to open the scriptures for yourself and behold the mystery of God revealed in Jesus Christ.
Merry Christmas!
Chapter 1: Colossians 1:25-26
Moonlight coated the back wall as the curtain danced in the wind. Chaff from the nearby wheat field blew in through the doorway. Keinan continued spinning the wheel with his right foot while gently pressing his index finger against the clay. He squinted examining every inch of the jar as it circulated on the upper disk. Just as he began to slowly lift his hands from the finished product, a second large gust threw open the curtain and toppled the jar onto the dusty floor below.
“All that for nothing,” Keinan muttered as he slammed his fist against the table sending tools flying. He stared at the deformed masterpiece. His tears were quickly dried by the crisp night air. Keinan stepped down from his stool, shuffled over to the basin, and scrubbed his hands clean as he stared out through the window across the dark valley.
Since his father passed, Keinan tried day after day to master the same craft and keep the family business going. But inexperience and the painful nostalgia that hit him every time he placed his sandal on the same wheel his father had hundreds of times before left him better suited to tread the clay, not fashion it. Failing to produce and sell pottery left him no choice but to forfeit portions of his inheritance to the Romans to keep up with tax obligations. He had lost almost everything and was still drowning in debt.
Keinan grabbed his torch from its holder on the wall and exited the pottery house, tossing the front curtain aside and slamming it back against the other side of the door as he stepped outside. The torch flame flickered as he made his way along the trail past the barren wheat fields. As his sandals pounded the earth below, Keinan clenched his free hand tighter and tighter considering what his life had become.
As a boy, Keinan excelled in his study of the Torah. Memorizing the scrolls came easily to young Keinan who was highly regarded by the rabbis for his mental depository of Pentateuchal instruction. He particularly enjoyed the account of Abraham’s improbable fatherhood at 100 years old with his barren wife Sarai. Such an event inspired Keinan to worship the God of his ancestors. The one for whom nothing was too hard.
Keinan smirked, shook his head, and let out a sarcastic chuckle. Accounts that once quickened the young boy’s faith in Jehovah were now no more than a series of tales good only for putting young children to sleep. The scrolls once so clear to Keinan now seemed like a mystery after years of loss, pain, and dashed hopes.
Ahead of Keinan was a trail junction leading him back to Emmaus or the main route heading towards Jerusalem. As he neared the junction, a faint noise broke the silence of the valley.
“pit-pat-pit-pat”
Keinan’s head spun and his pupils swelled. His nerves tingled as the glow of a torch rapidly approached.
Chapter 2: Jeremiah 33:3
The dark silhouette advanced towards him as Keinan’s mind raced. Who would be trailing him at such an hour? Surely it wasn’t a sojourner traveling into town. The city gate was shut hours ago. Perhaps it was a Roman Centurion tracking him down by order of Quaestor Drusus for his delinquent taxes. Or worse. It was that demon possessed child everyone in the Decapolis was talking about. The one who lived among the tombs in Gadara and spent his days cutting himself with stones and screaming out at all hours. Keinan shivered considering these possibilities.
Keinan puckered his lips and blew out his torch. Just as he was about to take off running, a raspy voice cried out, “Shalom!”
Keinan looked back. The orange torch glimmer revealed an elderly man in a tattered tunic. He lumbered along the dusty trail as his torch bobbed up and down with his arms.
“Shalom shalom!” the man exclaimed as he gasped for oxygen. “I’m not the athlete I used to be,” he laughed.
“Shalom,” Keinan responded. “Why were you running towards me?”
“Better question. Why did you blow out your torch?” the man piped back. “Bet you thought I was old Drusus ready to shake you down for those delinquent taxes!” He chuckled as Keinan looked on quizzically.
“…How did you kn-“
Cutting Keinan off the man asked, “What? Know about the taxes?” “Everyone owes Rome something!” Keinan smirked. His muscles loosened and his pupils shrunk.
“What is your name, son?” asked the man.
“I am Keinan, son of Shahar.”
The man tilted his head and stared deeply into Keinan’s sunken eyes asking, “And Keinan, son of Shahar, what has you trouncing your way around the countryside in the middle of the night?”
Keinan looked down and pushed some dirt around with the top edge of his sandal. “Just trying to figure some things out,” Keinan said.
The man smiled and looked down. “Well, the answer isn’t going to be in that dirt, son.”
Keinan gave a half grin. “Yeah, I guess not. I’m not really sure there is an answer.”
The man looked at Keinan and smiled. After a long pause, he began to speak. “Do you remember in the days before the exile when Nebuchadnezzar had battering rams surrounding Jerusalem and God told Jeremiah to buy his cousin’s land? Ah, what was his name…”
“Hanamel,” Keinan spoke as he lifted his head.
“Yes! Very good son, Hanamel. It made little sense for Jeremiah to follow the law and be Hanamel’s kinsman-redeemer since the land he purchased was inevitably going to be in Babylon’s possession.”
The man’s pitch climbed. “Or do you remember when Habakkuk cried out to the Lord only to find out that Adonai was raising up the Chaldeans against Judah?”
Keinan released a long sigh and looked off into the distance. “I don’t mean to be rude bu-“
The man could hardly contain his excitement. “Or the time when God told Abram that he would be the father of many nations and changed his name to Abraham even though he was an old man, like me, with a wife who couldn’t give birth?”
Keinan locked eyes with the man.
“Sure, I remember. I remember my abba reading these stories to me as a child and believing them. I remember thinking these scrolls all made sense. I remember trying to love the Lord with all my heart, all my soul, and all my might. But it’s become increasingly clear to me that the feeling isn’t mutual. Since you bring up the prophet Jeremiah, explain to me why God says, ‘I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David, and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land.’ Do you see justice here? Do you see righteousness here? Do you see a king from David ruling over the land? All I see is Herod and the continued oppression of our people – excuse me, God’s chosen people. All I see is God not keeping his promises. So, excuse me old man, but the last thing I need is a Torah lesson in the middle of the night from a total stranger.”
Keinan took off into the darkness before the man could fit in another word. Sunrise was mere hours away. He had to get home before the Romans arrived.
Chapter 3: Luke 19:10
“Do you remember?”
The man’s voice echoed in the corridors of Keinan’s mind. His words seemed so random, so purposeless. Yet, Keinan couldn’t help but wonder if they were profound.
“Why was he out there?” Keinan thought. “What did he mean?”
As he conversed with himself, Keinan’s trembling shook the leather haversack in his left hand as he threw various items in it with his right. He knew the Praetor would make an example out of him to the rest of the province if caught. He had to flee. Jerusalem and the surrounding towns, like Emmaus, were crawling with centurions.
Keenan placed his hands on the door and paused. He looked back one last time as tears filled his eyes. He spotted the clay water basin the family had used for feet washing. His tears of sorrow turned to joy as he remembered the time his father helped him make it as a gift for Keinan’s mother a year before she got sick. He missed his parents deeply. They would not be happy with what he was about to do, but Keinan felt he had no other choice.
After a deep breath, Keinan once again faced the door. He pushed gently, peering out the small opening to see if any of Drusus’ men were in the marketplace. Scanning the crowd, he smirked when he didn’t notice the glistening metal of a Roman galea. Keinan tip-toed out and then, finding a gap in the flow of traffic, swiftly joined the crowd.
Keeping a low profile, Keinan’s eyes darted around looking for centurions as he walked. If spotted, his intentions would be no mystery.
As Keinan approached the countryside, the herd of people on the path dwindled. He stared down at his sandals, pressing on towards the southern gate of Emmaus. He silently rejoiced as the prospect of escaping town seemed closer to reality with each step. Suddenly, his jubilation turned to horror. Five fingers dug into Keinan’s right shoulder and before he could blink, Keinan’s back clapped against the parched soil.
Chapter 4: Romans 6:23
“Drusus’ quarters are north, not south Jew,” the centurion barked out.
A crowd gathered at the sound of shouting as the soldier bloodied his fist on Keinan’s face.
“You really thought you could skip town on us?” asked a second centurion as he delivered blow after blow to Keinan’s side.
“Your miserable life isn’t even worth enough to cover your debt, but it will have to suffice.”
Keinan’s tears raced droplets of his blood to the ground as he cried out in agony. “Please – just a little more time! I will get it to you!”
“You’re out of time,” shouted the first centurion as he picked Keinan up by the tunic. “You’re Rome’s now.”
The silence of the crowd was suddenly shattered. A voice piped up, “Aren’t we all already? Let the boy go.”
The two centurions surveyed the group of onlookers. As their eyes turned, the heads of those in the crowd dropped. Nobody would have dared speak to a group of centurions in such a way. Yet one man kept his gaze on the soldiers as he made his way to the front of the group.
“Are you out of your mind old man?’ the centurion asked. “One swing from Rufus here would send you to the tomb.” The two soldiers chuckled.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” the old man laughed. “Will I have to pay Rome property taxes for my grave site?” The crowd snickered as the centurion released his grip and Keinan collapsed on the ground.
Rufus shoved the old man from the back as his fellow officer grabbed him by the neck, raising him into the air. “Your wish is my command you dog,” muttered the centurion as he reached for his dagger.
“It would cause quite an uprising, Emilian…” mumbled Rufus.
Emilian looked over at Rufus, then glared back at the old man. He tossed the man to the ground and turned around once again facing Keinan.
A rough twine pulled tight against his wrists as he moaned. Just as Keinan was about to let out his final plea for mercy, the old man coughed up some dust and asked, “How much?”
Emilian stood back up and slowly raised his head to the sky. Turning aside to Rufus, he murmured, “you sure an uprising wouldn’t be worth it?” Then the two centurions pivoted and stared at the old man still laying on the ground.
“How much does the boy owe?” said the old man as he continued to clear his throat.
The centurions looked at one another and then back at the man. “What’s it matter to you?” Emilian responded.
“I would like to pay his debt.”
Keinan’s vision came back into focus as he stared across the dirt at the onlooker’s sandals.
“You what?” asked Emilian.
“I will pay this man’s debt.”
Rufus scoffed. “I don’t think you can afford it, Jew. He owes Drusus 10,000 denarii.”
The crowd turned their focus to the man with mouths agape.
He smiled. “That’s it?”
Rufus’ head swiveled back to Emilian who continued to stare at the man.
Emilian opened his mouth to speak but before he could utter a word the old man said, “the house right there,” as he pointed. “There’s a large cedar chest right when you walk in. Take it.”
The crowd gasped. Keinan propped himself up off the ground and turned towards them.
Emilian looked at Rufus who tilted his head and rose his eyebrows.
“If it’s not all there, you both will be food for the birds,” said Emilian. As the two soldiers walked over to the house, Keinan’s line of sight was no longer blocked. His eyes met the old man’s. Keinan’s jaw dropped. The old man smiled.
“You didn’t let me finish what I had to say last night. Maybe now you will.”
Keinan was speechless. His battered face gazed in shock as the crowd murmured.
Everyone’s faces turned as the soldiers reapproached. Emilian looked first at the old man then at Keinan. His Adam’s apple bounced as he swallowed before speaking. “Get out of here, Jew. Guess it’s your lucky day.”
The crowd cheered and jeered at the centurions as they walked past. Keinan slowly propelled himself up with his arms as his knees shook.
His swollen face quivered as he continued to stare at the man who still sat on the ground.
“Who are you?”
Chapter 5: Colossians 1:27
The crowd began to dissipate as Keinan reached out his shaky hand to the old man. The old man squeezed Keinan’s hand and rose to his feet quickly brushing off his tunic with his calloused hands.
“Walk with me.” Keinan nodded as the unlikely pair set out on the northern trail.
“Who are you?” Keinan asked again.
“It doesn’t matter who I am,” said the old man bluntly. “You will understand why soon.”
Keinan wagged his head. “Wh-what do you mean?”
“Do you remember what I said last night?” the man asked.
“When you rattled off those Torah stories?” Keinan replied.
The man laughed. “Yes, exactly!”
Keinan spilled his thoughts. “I used to feel so clear about what the Torah was about, but as I’ve gotten older, it all just seems like a bunch of stories somebody made up to describe our history. God makes all these promises but never seems to keep them. I apologize that I ran off, but if you’ve been through what I have, you’d know where I’m coming from.”
“So, you don’t believe them?” the man asked.
“Well, no.” Keinan responded. “It all seems like a big mystery with no real answers. It can teach good lessons to kids and is well-crafted literature, but it’s nothing to base one’s life on as so many of our people do. Look at all the empty promises!”
“Hmm, I see,” the man responded. “What is it that you base your life on?”
Keinan looked down. “I – uh,” Keinan paused. “I don’t know, just trying to stay alive, I guess.”
The man patted Keinan on the back. “God’s word was once a mystery to me.”
Keinan looked at the man and then back at the trail. “And it is no longer?”
The man lifted his twinkling eyes to the sunset sky. “No.”
Keinan stayed quite for a moment. “Well, what happened?” he finally asked.
“The stories I told you about last night, from Jeremiah, Habakkuk, and of course Abraham. Have you ever thought that God’s word may have been a mystery to them?” The old man’s words were as gentle as they were stern.
Keinan looked at the man and then back at the path in front of him.
“They were a mystery to them,” the old man softly asserted.
“Because what God promised hadn’t happened yet.” Keinan’s eyes opened wide as he reasoned this to himself.
The man rapidly nodded his head. “And what ultimately ended up happening – even if they didn’t happen to see it in their lifetime?”
Keinan stopped walking and turned towards the man. “Exactly what Jehovah said.”
The man raised his feeble arms into the air and smiled ear to ear. “We are Abraham’s descendants, aren’t we? We are walking through Judah without any Babylonian control, right? God delivered on those promises and those mysteries have been revealed!”
Keinan smiled as he nodded.
The man laughed and posed another question. “And if that’s all made up, then why would the author make us constantly look so bad? After all, don’t most fiction works showcase the character’s strength and minimize their weaknesses? The Torah certainly doesn’t do that for us!” The two bellowed in laughter together.
Regaining his composure, the man asked, “As you spoke last night, you brought up a bigger mystery than you realize, son.” Keinan’s cheek muscles rested.
“You brought up the Branch of David. The King who will rule with justice and righteousness.”
Keinan’s face fell serious as he bobbed his head up and down.
“You were right about Herod. He certainly isn’t from David and he most definitely doesn’t reign executing justice and righteousness. We all know that.”
Keinan dropped his head and wagged it back and forth.
“Our people cry to be free from the Romans, but do we ever cry to be free from our sins?”
Keinan looked at the man and questioned him, “free from our sins?”
“Yes, son. Remember Jeremiah’s words regarding the new covenant the Messiah will bring? Jehovah said, ‘For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more.’”
Keinan’s eyes shifted back to the trail in front of him as a soft wind blew against his confused face.
“Your debt. The one I paid the Romans. The same is true of our sin’s before Yahweh. A debt so large, none of us, not even King David could pay. Nobody keeps the law perfectly! And as the law says, the payment for its violation is death – right? Yahweh graciously provides us the death of lambs, bulls, and goats so we can still live. But blood must be shed, just like that first Passover in Egypt.”
Keinan turned back to the old man. “Well, if I can’t pay it, then who does?”
The old man let out a joyous shout, “Hallelujah!” “My son, you ask the best question of all – the most majestic mystery in all of Torah.” The old man looked up and said softly, “He does.”
“Who does?” Keinan questioned.
“Isaiah’s words, son! The suffering servant. He who was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him. Yahweh’s ultimate promise, the one the Lord laid on the iniquities of us all, even gentiles!”
“Even gentiles??” Keinan retorted. “Who is he?”
“The hope of glory, my boy! The Son of God!” exclaimed the man as he gazed back into the dusk sky.
Keinan looked at the man and followed his eyes into the sky. “I don’t understand.”
“Keinan, son of Shahar,” the man replied. “I have waited all my life for the consolation of Israel. Yesterday, before we chatted on the trail, I held Him in my hands. They were in Jerusalem, at the temple. I held the Savior, the delivered promise, in my hands. God’s offer of salvation, the suffering servant. The grand mystery of our Torah has been revealed. He is here, Immanuel!”
Keinan’s head spun. “What does this mean?”
“Remember the exodus of our people from Egypt and the first Passover? Those families that applied the blood of the sacrificial lamb to their doorposts were spared the death of their first born. This baby will be the sacrificial lamb for all who receive Him by faith! We will be made right with God, as it was in the beginning. The wrath for our iniquities will be dealt with once and for all. No longer will we need to constantly offer lambs, bulls, and goats.”
So many years of pain and sorrow seemed to not matter in this moment to Keinan. Something was taking place in him that he had never experienced. He didn’t understand all that was being said but he had the sense that it carried far more significance than he could ever realize. He knew true joy as he considered the words of the man and the faithfulness of God despite his personal faithlessness. God had kept His promises all along and this baby was the ultimate delivery.
The man smiled. “Soon, you will meet Him too.” He placed his hand on Keinan’s shoulder as the two walked past another trail junction, making their way in the direction of the signpost labeled “NAZARETH.”
“Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.”
– Luke 2:29-32
Word Loose 