Greetje: New page: {{info}} ==== Introduction to the Nebuchadnezzar Cycle ==== For 25 years one of my joys has been to write and read an advent poem each Sunday of Advent for the people of Bethlehem. The p...

Greetje — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 13:48:12 GMT

New page: {{info}} ==== Introduction to the Nebuchadnezzar Cycle ==== For 25 years one of my joys has been to write and read an advent poem each Sunday of Advent for the people of Bethlehem. The p...

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==== Introduction to the Nebuchadnezzar Cycle ====

For 25 years one of my joys has been to write and read an advent poem each Sunday of Advent for the people of Bethlehem. The poems aim to speak truth about God and his ways with man, but they are imaginative reconstructions behind figures of the Bible of what may have been, but probably was not. Historically, my aim is not to create anything that could not have been or that in any way contradicts what the Bible says. 

I write them because the effort to say things differently helps me see things more deeply and love God more deeply. And I hope they help you in that same way.

This year my plan is to read a four part cycle on Nebuchadnezzar. We know him mainly from the books of 2 Kings, Jeremiah, and Daniel. He was the king of Babylon who came and destroyed Jerusalem in 587 BC and carried the exiles away to Babylon. At one level his behavior seems inexplicable and it is an open question in the Bible whether he really was a true convert to the worship of Yahweh. My own imagination is that he was entangled in a secret cult of moon worship. But what becomes of him, I will save for the last poem.

==== Nebuchadnezzar, Part 1 ====

Nebuchadnezzar hated night But loved the dark. It is the plight Of every king and every soul Who cannot sleep but plays a role That he is not, and must conceal The truth with artificial zeal For what he does not love, and hide His secret passion—like a bride Adorned in white, who does not prize The happy man before her eyes.

Before his rise to power on The throne of Babylon, the dawn, In spite of light, had been for years A sweet relief. And with the tears Of weariness, but not remorse, He welcomed day, and blessed the course Of heaven’s blazing sun for slight Relief; and then began the bright And hollow masquerade of fear And holy rev’rence, to appear As if his gods were treasured or Esteemed—as if this cult was more Than Babylon’s devout charade, And Bel could speak, or Nebo made A sound.

This would-be king had found The secret of the ancient mound From when Sumerians first walked The sands of Babylon and stalked Their prey at night four thousand years Before, so when the moon appears, They might with blood appease Raku, The moon god, long forgotten through The centuries—except by some, Who wake in fear at night, and come To secret shrines and offer beasts, Or men, and long for bogus priests And silent gods—and day. This was The darkness where he lived, because He bound himself for life with both A sacrifice and solemn oath: “I live by blood and by the moon, And vow by these not to impugn The name, Raku, nor be released Till I myself become a beast.”

And when with guile he took the throne, Nebuchadnezzar brought (unknown To all his court, his nobles, and His wife) the secret of the band Of midnight worshipers, who met At full moon ev’ry month to wet Their trembling knives with blood and chant Their spells and beg Raku to grant Them dreams of what their fate would be.

This was the source of all his rage Against Jerusalem. The stage For siege and plundering was set With bloody sacrifice. The debt Was paid this night with human life, And Jewish blood dripped from the knife. At full moon, when the worshipers Believed that Raku never errs, A voice was heard: “The temple for The Most High God, whom I abhor, Stands unassaulted on a hill Called Zion in the west. Who will This night heed my command and go Destroy that happy place, and throw Those people in my net, and bring Them bound to me? If they can sing Beside the Chebar, let them make Their melodies of death and slake Their thirst for home and land upon The bitter streams of Babylon.”

A bloodstained silence followed these Dark words, and all agreed, the keys To Zion had been given to The king of Babylon. They drew The manifest conclusion: So! The moon god was at war, and though Jerusalem should boast the Most High God, this cult knew well the host Of Babylon, led by the king, With venom from the moon, would sting Jerusalem and paralyze Her armies with the painful cries Of poison from the lunar pot— Or so they thought—of Raku. Not Until two decades had gone by Would all of Babylon espy The truth—that, in the plundering Of Zion’s wealth, another King, Unseen, would triumph in the loss Of his own holy place, and toss His rebel governors away Like chaff before the wind, and pay Their sin its portion by the hand Of enemies, just as he planned.

And so without a clue what he Would now achieve—the fatal key To Zion in his hand—the king Of Babylon sealed with his ring The solemn declaration that Nebuchadnezzar would combat The Most High God of Israel, Break him, and bring him bound to dwell, A trophy and phenomenon, Beneath his foot in Babylon.

For reasons he could see, and some That he could not, he put his thumb On Israel more gently than At first he planned. He made the man, Jehoiachim, his servant, just A puppet king, until the dust He licked could no more be endured. So he rebelled, and thus ensured His own demise in chains, and saw Nebuchadnezzar put his claw Through Temple rings and carry home To Babylon, beneath the dome Of Bel and Nebo, holy things Not meant for use by any kings But one. And then his son, in three Months after he was dead, showed he, Just like his father, was a fool: A king, eighteen years old, with cruel And final chains carried away For thirty-seven years to stay Behind the bars of Babylon. And then his kinsman had to don The puppet robes eleven years And dance to foreign tunes and fears Until the day that he could bear No more, and cut his strings to dare The king of Babylon to try And take Jerusalem, the high And Holy City of the Most High God.

Now, finally, the boast Of Babylon felt no restraint From any source, and ev’ry taint Of insolence he recompensed With brutal siege until he sensed The saints were eating afterbirth. And then he lashed the mighty girth Of this great city’s walls, and brought Them to the ground. And then he thought, “I will teach this High God, and all His starving worshipers to fall Before the gods of Babylon.” And so he put his torch upon The altar in the Holy Place And burned, without a single trace, The House of Israel’s God, and took The sacred vessels home to cook The sacrificial meat he ate In honor of the moon. The great And small of all the Jews were sent In bonds to Babylon and went, As if a monster swallowed them Alive, and wept, “Jerusalem! Jerusalem! Where is the Lord, Our mighty God, before this horde Of blind idolaters?” The king Could hear their cries and felt the sting. “Bring me their puppet king, and all His sons,” the king declared, “and call These weeping exiles now to see Just who is blind and who is free To worship as he please, and smite His foe to live in endless night. With memories so dark and clear He daily cries, ‘O death, come near!’” He turned to Nebuzaradan The captain of the guard, “I can,” He said, “create the darkness and The light.” And at his nod, the hand Of Nebuzaradan slew all The sons of Zedekiah, small And great. And as the monarch wailed, They stabbed him in the eyes, and jailed Him till the day he died. And then The mighty throng of exiles, men And women, old and young, went east To Babylon.

And at the feast Of victory year after year The king would try to hide his fear, Because the moon was full and he Could not control what soon would be. Would his dominion be increased, Or would he be a mindless beast? What had he done? A mighty blow At God? How little did he know!

O kings of earth, and presidents, Do you have any notion whence There blows the wind that moves your mind? Or whither any bill you’ve signed Will lead? Or what ten billion waves And ripples are unleashed in caves And mountains, slums and palace halls, When you make your decrees? What walls Are built or fall? What bridges stand Or, full of men, collapse? What lands Live happily and well, or cling To pleasant scorpions and sing Of death unwittingly? Do you, The kings and presidents, see through Ten thousand days, and know the end Of your intent, or comprehend The outcome of your peace, or wars Or even if your plan is yours?

This is the light of candle one: God governs everything you’ve done. You never take him by surprise, The dark is bright before his eyes. All kingly ways are in his hands, And all your deeds fulfill his plans. And if you make a war on God, You find that you are but his rod.

Nebuchadnezzar, Part 1 - Revision history

Greetje: New page: {{info}} ==== Introduction to the Nebuchadnezzar Cycle ==== For 25 years one of my joys has been to write and read an advent poem each Sunday of Advent for the people of Bethlehem. The p...