The Egyptians, scream the citizens in dismay, you must have been younger and stronger then. Younger, shouts Haj Harun, but I'm still strong.
A queasy lot, the citizens of Jerusalem, then as now. So many prophets are always passing through here saying this or that is the absolute truth of the matter, and always contradicting each other, that the citizens naturally tend to be suspicious.
Is the money belt big enough? they scream. Is the shepherd's sack? And are you going to sign receipts?
Well Haj Harun shouts he is and all is well and in another minute they're bringing their sacred objects from every corner of the city, jewels and gold in all shapes and sizes and even some wood, and Haj Harun stuffs it all away in his money belt and his shepherd's sack and signs the receipts they wanted.
Then he tries to get to his feet.
Groans from the crowd, groans all around.
Can't you even stand up? they scream. If you have to sit there for the next century or two you're certainly not much of a hiding place.
Well it's hard, God knows. It's the hardest thing your man's ever done but he does it, he manages, he gets to his feet. After all he has to, the future of the eternal city depends on it. So he lets fall his cloak and takes one staggering step and then another, looking fat and terribly deformed, not unlike a Jerusalem merchant trying to waddle away from the marketplace under the weight of his profits.
And just in time, because up there on the ramparts the ram's horns are beginning to sound announcing the imminent arrival of the advance Assyrian assault force, which is to say their ferocious and justly a-feared cavalry.
The mob scatters for cover. The marketplace is empty. Only Haj Harun is left behind because he can't move fast enough. Stumbling crookedly with his burden of public safety, he slips into a side alley. Do you see it, Munk?
Yes.
Good. Well the gates bang open and the dreaded Assyrian cavalry comes thundering down the street shaking the cobblestones, and now your man knows why their accursed cavalry is so justly a-feared. I mean, my God, can you believe it? The Assyrians don't ride horses, that's why. They ride winged lions just like you've seen in the pictures. Great roaring bounding lions with manes a-flowing and wings a-spreading. So it's here come the bloody Assyrians all right. Are you still there, Munk?
Yes.
I thought so. Now here's the difficulty. Your man only thought he was slipping into that side alley.
Actually he wasn't. Actually that side alley was far too narrow to accommodate both him and the gigantic stuffed money belt and the huge stuffed shepherd's sack. Actually he's still out there in the open, Jerusalem's portable altar bearing all the goods, right there in the middle of the street with the cavalry bounding toward him, those wicked winged lions breathing fire and looking for a fresh piece of meat to guzzle. Guzzle meat? Of course they could with that fiery breath of theirs, easily and more. What next, you say?
What happened next, Joe?
A miracle of faith, that's what. He wasn't about to drop the goods and run the way you or I would. No, he stayed right there in the open and thought fast. Listen, he said, reassuring himself, if Belteshazzar could do it so can I. He had faith and so do I. I've always served the Holy City and I'm not stopping now, winged lions or no. Jerusalem forever, that's the job. His very words. Are you still with me, Munk?
I am, but who's this new character on the scene?
You mean this fellow Belteshazzar? Apparently he was some gent who was thrown to the lions by an unjust king but who survived because he was innocent and knew it, just as Haj Harun did. Faith, you see.
Anyway Haj Harun stands his ground in the middle of the street as the onslaught approaches at a frightful pace. The cavalry comes thundering down on him and the lead lion, near starved for real Jerusalem meat, opens his jaws wide and takes a terrifying snap at Haj Harun.
Well saints preserve us, you could just hear those jaws crack. The lion had aimed at Haj Harun's middle, you see, and planted his vicious bite on the money belt, and with all those precious sacred objects packed so tightly together in there, the thing was harder than stone. So crack went the lead lion's teeth, snap went its jaw, and the beast rolled over on the cobblestones at Haj Harun's feet, whining pathetically.
Well that slowed the advance. The next lion took a more tentative snap at what looked like a huge succulent deformity growing out of Haj Harun's back, hitting the stuffed shepherd's sack where it hurt and down he went with his front teeth broken off, howling between the roars, letting the other lions know this article in the middle of the street wasn't worth the biting.
Well to make a long story short, a couple of more lions gave it a try and lost their teeth, so that was that.
The cavalry charge was broken, toothless lions were whimpering all over the place, and Haj Harun was able to make his slow escape to a remote corner of the Old City. Then some decades or centuries later the Assyrians were no longer the arrogant power they had been, and sure enough they went slinking away to the north with their chariots, as predicted. Haj Harun brought out the city's sacred objects and redistributed them to the best of his memory, commerce and the assorted religions got underway again and all was well once more in the Holy City. The citizens gave Haj Harun a standing ovation and acclaimed him the unofficial savior of Jerusalem, official status only being temporary and only assigned to prophets before they're discredited and killed.
And that's what I meant, Munk, by the job not being just self-appointed. He did appoint himself all right but later the appointment was approved by all concerned, as you've just heard. For a time, at least. A while after that, during the Persian occupation, things took a turn for the worse for Haj Harun. In fact he went into a straight decline from which he's never recovered.
Why the decline?
Don't know, do I. Time's tricky, tricky times, all manner of possibilities. But I think the money belt was the culprit. You see it weighed on his kidneys something terrible when he was serving as Jerusalem's portable altar during the Assyrian afflictions, so badly he had to urinate every minute or two. And you do that over some decades or centuries and it could well cause your ruin. I mean who could accomplish much of a positive nature if they had to leave every minute or two to go to the bog? In such dire circumstances I think anybody would go into a decline. Well then, Munk. In sum, what do you think of this striking Assyrian adventure?
I think Haj Harun showed extraordinary courage.
He did, assuredly.
But there's one small fact that's out of place.
Do you tell me that? What could the small item be?
When the lions came charging down the street, Haj Harun was reminded of how someone called Belteshazzar had been saved by his faith.
True.
And it was that recollection that allowed him to stand his ground.
Very true. And so?
That was the man's Babylonian name. In the West he's better known by his Hebrew name, Daniel. He was taken to Babylonia at the beginning of the Captivity.
Joe looked confused.
I know the story of Daniel in the lions' den, Munk, I just didn't connect it with this other name Haj Harun used. But why's that matter?
Because it happens that Daniel lived in the sixth century B.C. Did you know that?
I didn't and I'm always glad to have new information, but I still don't see why that matters. Why does it, Munk?
Because the Assyrians conquered Palestine in the eighth century B.C. Now how could Haj Harun have recalled Daniel's exploits two centuries before they happened?