The Ivory House: The Days of Elijah

By Cliff Keller

The Widow of Zarephath’s young son, Yashar, abandons his mother to follow the prophet, Elijah, into Israel during a time of devastating drought. At Mount Carmel, when Elijah calls down fire and rain from heaven, Yashar witnesses God’s triumph over Queen Jezebel’s pagan priests.

Overcome with the fear of the vengeful queen, Elijah runs away. Yashar follows the prophet but finds himself lost and alone in a foreign land until he is adopted by a stray dog. Yashar names the animal, Juttah and the once frail animal grows uncannily strong. At Jezreel, Juttah leads Yashar into Naboth’s vineyard and a new life.

While the prophet, Elijah, comes out of hiding and pronounces judgment on nations and kings, Yashar works inNaboth’s vineyard and falls in love with both Naboth’s family and the art of making wine. Though he plans to grow old in the vineyard, Yashar witnesses Naboth’s brutal murder and Israel’s fall further into idolatry. Years later, when Juttah proves to be an instrument of God’s will, Yashar understands the warnings of the prophets concerning Israel and is forced to change his plans.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cliff Keller
• Release date: Jun 24, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310952234

Cliff Keller

Cliff Keller was born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. After multiple migrations between Florida and Wisconsin, Cliff attended Florida State University to pursue a degree in Engineering Science, paying his way by working as an engineering coop student for NASA at Cape Canaveral. Somehow aware of Cliff's progress, President Richard Nixon designed to send Cliff to the war in Vietnam by ending the educational draft deferment. By graduating, then receiving an occupational deferment while working for then defense contractor, Texas Instruments, in Dallas, Cliff avoided conscription and bested the president, who soon afterward became distracted by the Watergate scandal and lost interest in Cliff’s status.After eight years in Dallas (and earning a Master's Degree in Electrical Engineering from Southern Methodist University), Cliff spent the next 18 years in Florida in the construction business before selling the company to devote more time to writing.Cliff and his wife, Marcia, now live in Jerusalem, Israel, having made Aliyah in 2011, where they are slowly improving at speaking Hebrew and loving their time in the land.

Book preview

Copyright © 2016, by Cliff Keller.

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents other than those transcribed from translations from the Hebrew Tanach are products of the author’s imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance of non-historical characters to actual persons living or dead, is coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

For they served idols, whereof the Lord had said unto them, ye shall not do this thing.

2 Kings 17:12

Contents

Copyright © 2015 by Cliff Keller

Contents

Acknowledgments

Introduction

Prologue

I. Rain

1. A battle between gods

2. Where was your Baal when our well went sour?

3. God chooses, I obey

4. Would it please you more to be murdered?

5. How God and prophets work

6. A hopeless trap

7. Fantails of mud

II. Burning for honor

8. I want to hear their names

9. Quit crying and go north

10. What are you doing here, Elijah?

11. Nose rings and feathers

12. Thirty-two kings

III. Ben-hadad

13. The queen’s eyes are bulging

14. Often blinded by faith

15. Avi’s Best Blow

16. I remain his mother

IV. A garden of sweet plants

17. God speaks to many people

18. Perhaps their ruin is not God’s will

19. Let your heart rejoice, O king

20. Juttah strikes them all

21. Who will pay, then?

22. Nothing brings clarity like calamity

V. Like the house of Jeroboam

23. All but the mention of murder

24. Much like a family harvest

25. Why would I not be thrilled?

26. Lower yourself or my heart may burst

27. A plan in your back pocket

28. A different opinion at Shunem

29. Ahab is a dead man

30. God does not do our bidding

VI. If I be a man of God

31. Clumsy charity

32. Like a shattered flagstaff

33. Too many gods in Israel

34. Death sounds like a comfort

35. Who is your god, man?

36. Who are we, if not Israel?

37. While my master works wonders

VII. Whirlwinds

38. A special pain in Bidkar’s eyes

39. Good news

40. The chariot of Israel and its horsemen

41. A knack that accrues to lonely men

42. Jehu is king

43. No hope hollower than vengeance

44. Past time to go home

45. No, that was his father

46. All will be well in the vineyard

Epilogue

About the Author

Other Books by Cliff Keller

Acknowledgments

Many thanks (and much love) to my wife, Marcia, who made numerous suggestions, kept me on track and somehow managed to read the manuscript more frequently than I. Thanks also to Diana Flegal at the Hartline Literary Agency for support and criticism. I am also grateful to Joy and Russ Carroll for their comments, proofing and enthusiasm.

Rather than using a single biblical resource for scriptural quotations and paraphrases in this novel, I have used several popular resources, sometimes commingling their renderings for dramatic effect or readability.

The Israelites, by B.S.J. Isserlin, First Fortress Press edition, 2001, ISBN 0-8006-3426-8 has been an excellent resource for this novel. Any oversights, misapplications, errors or omissions contained in this fiction of its descriptions of the customs, lifestyles and living conditions in ancient Israel are not Isserlin’s, but my own.

Introduction

The Ivory House is a fictional account of the life of the prophet, Elijah. Some of the many other biblical characters in this story include King Ahab of Israel and his queen, Jezebel, Naboth, the vintner, the widow of Zarephath and her young son whom I have named Yashar. In this account, Yashar follows Elijah into Israel and becomes the story’s principal narrator.

Most of the events depicted in The Ivory House align in chronology and character with those described in the Bible though a few, especially Ahab’s decision to gut the garrison at Jezreel in order to reinforce Samaria against Ben-hadad and Jezebel’s role in her son, Ahaziah’s, fatal injury after Ahab’s death, are pure fiction.

According to most estimates, Elijah lived and prophesied between 876 to 852 BCE, one hundred and thirty years before Assyria invaded and destroyed the northern kingdom of Israel and scattered her people beyond recognition. Elijah was one among many prophets who warned the nation to turn from child sacrifice, promiscuity and false gods.

Despite the many miracles they witnessed and mercies they were granted, the people of Israel refused to repent, and so began the nation’s end as well as its (continuing) restoration.

Prologue

Amichai had studied at the prophets’ guild in Jericho for years. Sons of the prophets, he and his classmates were called, all mentored by an anointed man, Elisha.

Elisha, in turn, served the prophet, Elijah. One afternoon in Jericho, both Elijah and Elisha appeared. Amichai and his classmates followed them to the Jordan where, as casually as an ordinary man might shoo a fly, Elijah removed his mantle, struck the river’s surface and made the waters part.

Then a chariot vaulting behind a team of flaming stallions appeared suddenly in the sky.

Who is this man of miracles? a classmate asked. No one ever knew him.

That, Amichai knew, was not true. Elijah had befriended a beardless boy who had served him on Mount Carmel (as the prophet summoned fire from the sky and ended four years of drought). And that same boy had been with the prophet at Jezreel years later when Elijah publicly cursed Ahab, the king, for murdering the vintner, Naboth.

How had Elijah and the lad become friends? Amichai had no time to inquire; Elijah had crossed the river; the heavenly chariot had landed and was about to take him away.

The Ivory House

I. Rain

1. A battle between gods

Yashar was born in Zarephath. He had never crossed the mountains eastward, toward Aram, or set his eyes on Mount Hermon beyond them. So the Carmel Range in Israel, a modest rock ridge at the southern boundary of the Jezreel Valley, amazed Yashar by its size. These run fourteen miles from Yokneam to the sea, the prophet, Elijah, told him. Their summit lies along that line… He pointed east to west. …two thousand feet above.

Yashar swallowed hard, the prophet said Fear not and they started up.

What energy Elijah showed that morning, jogging up the mountain’s switchbacks. Yashar’s heart beat hard when they had finished, less from the rapid climb than the sight he saw, the Western Sea glimmering behind the prophet, who had fallen to his knees. Elijah’s hair blew in the wind that morning as he prayed at the top of the world; a world that was about to change forever.

*

Dust was everywhere on the mountain. Healthy trees once thrived on the run-ups, Elijah told Yashar, and on this crest, tall grass blew. He swept his hand along the horizon where cracked earth and rubble ran in all directions. And the glory of the grass shall be restored. But only after God has his way.

Yashar inhaled to speak but Elijah raised his hand. I’ll talk today, son, he said, and you shall listen. He waited until Yashar nodded. There is a trickle of water that way, he said, pointing, in the bed of the Kishon Stream. He pointed again, in another direction. King Ahab, his escorts and the priests will come up that slope. More will follow on foot from there and there.

They soon arrived as Elijah had predicted; thousands of chalky men, most on foot but some leading staggering horses or boney mules, summoned to Carmel by their king to witness a battle between gods.

When Yashar began to bounce with excitement, Elijah, usually the most jovial of men, barked at him. Fall to your knees and pray beside me, he said. Do only as I say, say nothing of yourself. Observe the wonders that shall follow with your heart.

That seemed odd.

Two wagons, one carrying wood for burning, the other leading bulls, preceded the king to the top of Carmel just ahead of a legion of priests, Queen Jezebel’s men, hopping, cheering and chanting as they marched waving amulets, mocking Elijah as they passed.

Elijah repeated to each who met his eyes, Your moment, pretty fellow, will come.

Others on the mountain jeered Elijah too, blaming him for the drought that had nearly killed them all. The king thundered up last in a chariot flanked by bowmen. Prophet, he shouted, reigning his team to a stop, where do you stand?

I stand with the God of Israel, Elijah answered, as should you.

Ahab frowned. Even Yashar knew that Ahab had asked a different question. For almost four years, prophet, Ahab said, you have cursed this land with drought.

Israel cursed herself, Elijah said. God is merciful. I but speak his word.

You say, Ahab said, but now that you are flushed from your place we will end this thing.

Elijah had not been flushed from anywhere. He had returned to Samaria according to God’s will to put a dare to Ahab. Let the God who answers prayer by fire be God, the prophet had said. Send and get Israel together before me at Mount Carmel with the prophets of Baal who get their food at Jezebel’s table. And make prayers to your god. I will make a prayer to the Lord. It will be clear that the one who gives an answer by fire is God.

Ahab had agreed. The drought had made him desperate. Hundreds of Jezebel’s priests would face Elijah standing alone. Yashar felt blessed, about to see it unfold.

*

Cut up a bull, Ahab ordered Jezebel’s favorites. Lay wood for a fire then bring down fire from the sky. The men of Israel cheered and so it began. They watched with eager eyes as Jezebel’s men began their hooting magic, certain that the drought would end and Elijah would not escape.

The priests set to cutting, moaning and chanting, Baal, send down fire, Baal, send down fire. Yashar had never seen such energy at first but, after several hours of vain effort passed in withering heat, the priests began to fade. Nothing had worked for them. Yashar watched Elijah’s eyes as Jezebel’s so-called holy men flailed about. The prophet looked like a bowman, hunting—sharp-eyed, alert, unblinking—as if the priests weren’t men but prey.

Midday passed, the priests’ failures mounted and Elijah began to mock them. Give louder cries, he suggested, for he is a god, is he not? By chance he is sleeping and yet to be made awake?

Yashar laughed aloud (but he laughed alone).

The day grew hotter and things turned ugly. Stinging from Elijah’s taunts and Ahab’s impatience, the men of Baal cut themselves with sharp stones, the keen edges of their jewelry and the bright blades of their curved knives. But their spilled blood, torn flesh and tortured cries only served to sicken those who watched.

Finally, deep into the day, Ahab yelled enough!

The bloodied champions of Baal dropped to their knees. The gathered sons of Israel, once so hopeful, lowered their heads and some began to cry. Ahab had remained upright in his chariot all morning, ignoring the heat. When it became clear that the priests had failed, the men of Israel demanded that Elijah be put to death so not to waste the day.

No, Ahab shouted. As agreed, it is Elijah’s turn to try to bring down fire. We will honor that and only afterward do what’s best. The mob cursed Elijah and began to crowd threateningly around him. Yashar fought to stay close to his side. And when you do fail, prophet, Ahab said, your blood will flow worse than these priests’.

Cheers followed the king’s threat but Israel’s passion made no sense. If Elijah failed to bring down fire, then rain, as promised, it seemed all of them would die.

*

It is now the Lord’s turn, Elijah said. Baal’s priests have cut their bullock. They have laid on wood and put no fire under it as agreed…

But they could not work their evil magic to save their stupid lives, Yashar shouted.

He had not planned it; the words sprang from his mouth. When Ahab turned his burning eyes upon him, Yashar thought to run. He was leaning away, in fact, when Elijah cleared his throat, everyone refocused and the scary moment passed.

No man can summon fire from the sky, Ahab said, shame upon me for allowing you, Elijah, to raise the nation’s hopes. But you too will fail. He pointed at his collapsed cadre of holy men. And together with these miserable souls you will have proven only that your proposition was impossible.

Says the king of Israel, Elijah answered. He raised his fist and shook it as he spoke. Yet I will dress a second bullock. I will lay it upon wood and also put no fire under it. Then I will call on the name of the Lord… He turned in a slow circle, locked eye-to-eye with the few men brave enough to face him, finishing with these words, …and the God of Israel will answer my call with fire.

Even as they hissed him, Elijah fell to his knees and began to stack stones. These twelve for an altar, he said, according to the number of tribes of the sons of Jacob unto whom the word of the Lord came saying, Israel will be your name.

Even that truth annoyed the others. We are ten, one answered, separate from Judah and Benjamin.

Elijah knew that. Everyone knew it. Instead of answering as they railed at him the prophet raised his hand from time to time, working his fingers like a duck bill, quack-quack-quack. How calm he remained while entirely encircled by hate.

Once he had completed the altar, Elijah dug a trench then carved his bull for sacrifice, the heat of day so intense by then that even Israel’s insults had faded. Elijah’s enemies watched dull-eyed while he worked but Ahab, from time to time, rose to his toes to observe, his eyes betraying an unspoken truth. Every one of those parched and angry men longed in his heart to be wrong. Israel desperately wanted rain, even if by Elijah’s hand. The drought had all but finished her.

*

Altar built, trench dug and bull carved, Elijah rose and spoke again. Do you not see, Ahab? Do you not understand, O Israel, how deeply you have offended the Lord your God by turning your backs on him and honoring gods of your own making?

No one answered. It seemed then that Elijah might cry. All is misery because of your adultery, he said. Yet there will come a day when even this dewless calamity will seem to your astonished eyes a blessing, O stiff-necked Israel, if you fail to curb your lusts, shed your idols and repent.

Every man on the mountain looked away, directing his gaze toward the featureless sky. Elijah pointed at the priests. Behold, O king, he said, see how your lady’s defeated crew…

Use great caution, Ahab interrupted, when you mention my queen.

Jezebel! Elijah bellowed as though he could see her. What will your dark-eyed beauty say, O king, when you return to your inlaid palace and confess that her fools collapsed today, no fire lit, no rain induced despite their self-inflicted wounds?

Ahab held his tongue. What could he say?

Who is Baal to you now, O Israel, Elijah asked, as you stand here lacking spit to swallow? How will you look upon these parodies of holy men, day’s end, after I call down fire through the power of the living God?

You would be wise to be more polite, Ahab said, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Your end will go much easier when you fail.

I am not the issue, Elijah said. How long will Israel go on balancing between two opinions? If the Lord is God then give worship to him, but if Baal, give worship to him.

Yashar wanted to shout, Hallelujah! but this time he held his tongue.

I, even I only, remain a prophet of the Lord, Elijah said, but Baal’s prophets are four hundred and fifty men. Another four hundred dine alongside these each night at your queen’s table. Their chants and blood have only stirred the dust. Soon a blast of fire and pouring rain will prove that the God of Israel is merciful and true, putting to shame the puny gods of your lusts and imaginations.

Ahab grunted. The people muttered. Elijah raised his chin. I ask again, he said, what, then, will you trinket-worshipping people do?

Even Yashar lowered his head then. Only three years earlier, he had been no different from the others. Sikarbaal had been his name, meaning Baal Remembers. He, as had his father, once honored the same gods that had all but finished Israel.

2. Where was your Baal when our well went sour?

The drought had not been confined to Israel. From its beginning, cloudless skies had crowned the coast of the Western Sea along its length and even inland, through Aram. At the port of Zarephath, between the greater ports at Sidon and Tyre, crops had failed, cattle had died and wells had dried up. Even shipping had ceased. Some families had abandoned their homes while others stayed put simply hoping not to die before the rains returned.

Here was the odd part. The drought had begun in a place called Israel, where Israel’s god put a curse on the people for worshipping other gods; the same gods Yashar’s people had honored forever.

The people of Zarephath blamed Jezebel, daughter of Tyre’s king, for their weather. When she married Ahab of Israel and became his queen, Jezebel took hundreds of priests to live with her in Samaria. No one had expected a disaster, Baal worship was nothing new down south, but disaster came all the same. As the drought spread and grew more crippling, Yashar and his mother remained in their little house in the city and rested for hours at a time. They ate crumbs, sipped tainted water and prayed to many gods for rain.

After six unrelenting months of dust and heat their time seemed up. Yashar’s mother, Adella, had begun to hear voices. He will be an extremely hairy man, Adella said one afternoon. That is what I heard.

Who? Yashar asked.

The man whom we must feed.

Yashar checked his mother’s cheek for fever. We cannot feed ourselves, he said, and our well is sour. These voices…?

One voice, Adella said, the voice of God.

Which god? Yashar asked, an honest question at the time.

As you and I have endured this curse upon the land, Adella said, I’ve come to know that there is but one god, Elohim, the holy God of Israel.

Yashar laughed, having heard that name before. Even Israel has abandoned him, he said.

That is why, Adella said, the world now burns with drought.

*

More weeks passed with no rain and almost nothing to eat yet Adella insisted that they would soon have an important visitor to whom they would be required to give food.

If we share the little we have, Yashar said, we will only die sooner.

He will be covered with hair, she said, thatched thick on his arms and legs and across his shoulders and neck.

I’ll be sure to watch for him, Yashar sighed.

Adella snapped her fingers, remembering something more. He will wear a wide leather belt about his waist like those worn by the men who work the quarries.

Yashar covered his ears, tired of his mother’s foolishness, but Adella only smiled and wrapped him in a hug. We are dying, child, she sighed, "I confess it only because you already know, such a bright boy and so young. Would it not be wonderful if, in a mystery, son, I had truly heard God’s voice and he had promised that we would survive?"

If something so odd might happen, Yashar said, I suppose it would be good.

Have faith, then, Adella said. We’ve flour and oil for a last meal, as it seems to have come to that, so let’s go to the city gate to hunt for kindling.

Yashar refused at first but, when Adella left for the gates, he followed her from a distance, hiding behind a fence here, a busted wagon there, hating his excitement because her peacefulness had persuaded him to hope.

*

Oh, yes, Elijah was a hairy man. Hair tumbled from his crown and curled about his neck. It bloomed at his brows, splayed about his ears and caught the afternoon light in glowing coils about his powerful arms. He had strode up to Adella at the city gate out of nowhere, nodding as if he had expected to meet her. Yashar watched from behind an empty barrel. Elijah, like everything only more so, was covered with dust. Some of the caked gray powder that stuck to his face fell away as he smiled (leaving scores of fine lines about the corners of his mouth and