Seven Demons

When the dam bursts, it BURSTS. After nearly four years of pushing myself to write, I finished the last four chapters of Son of Man in just a few weeks, and immediately started on the next Immanu'El novel, Seven Demons. 

This is one I've been meaning to write since 2008, but the time was never right. Readers have repeatedly asked me when I am going to tell a story from the perspective of one of the women who followed Yeshua (a valid question, since the series description does say "men and women"), and Seven Demons is that story. Inspired by Luke 8:1-3, this novel explores the life of Maryam Migdalit, more commonly known today as Mary Magdalene.

The Migdalit did not live a PG-rated life, however. At some point during the Dark Ages, a rumor got started that she was a prostitute although there is nothing in the Bible to support that rumor. The Biblical truth is much worse, much more shocking--this is a woman from whom Jesus cast out not one but seven demons. Telling her story is a risk, a huge risk. I strongly suspect some readers will feel that I've broken an unwritten agreement with them when they read this book, especially if they throw it away before getting to Part Three (where Yeshua finally shows up and turns her world upside down...or rightside up, depending on how you look at it). 

I don't like unpleasant surprises, and I don't want to spring any on my readers. On the contrary, I want to prepare people for this book release well in advance. I thought I'd have a year or more to do this, but the book is moving along so quickly that I may not have that much time. Here, then, is a first draft of the Author's Note with which I have prefaced Seven Demons:

AUTHOR'S NOTE 

I long debated whether or not to write this book. Let the reader be forewarned: the material of which this garment is sewn is not suitable for children of any age. Neither, however, are many parts of the Bible itself. God does not gloss over the faults in his children; there are no hidden skeletons in His closet. 

Certain chapters of this book were originally part of Brothers, but the content was so disturbing that it had to be removed. It did not at all fit into the mood crafted in that novel; both Katan and Yisu are possessed of an innocence incompatible with the horrors that Satan delights in inflicting upon the world. Our world is a less innocent one than theirs. In our world, people are entertained by horror. 

I do not want this book to be entertaining. 

On the other hand, I cannot tell Maryam’s story honestly and still remain innocent. There is nothing—nothing—innocent about demonic possession. In a culture that has denied the reality of such things, dismissing them as mere superstition, medicating them or allowing them to live homeless on the corners of our society—in such a culture as ours, demonic possession has become mere entertainment. I, however, believe it to be the reality for many tormented and discarded souls. In this belief, I am in good company: both Jesus and Paul attest to the reality of demons and, while Paul may have been mistaken, it would be the height of arrogance for me to accuse Jesus of credulity. 

For that reason, and many others, I have deviated from the usual format of my storytelling. What happened to Maryam is not the past. It is the present. It is now.

You probably won't see too many blog posts from me for a few months, for this novel is begging to be born. Whether the world will embrace it, leave it to cry on someone's doorstep, or throw it into a dumpster in the middle of the night...this remains to be seen. I am only the midwife.

New Release! Son of Man (Immanu'El Book 4)

The cover photo is one I took in Nazareth in 2014.

Only four years in the making...
Only one year overdue...
Son of Man, sequel to The Carpenter and Brothers, explores the last decade of the "missing years" of Luke's gospel. You can read an excerpt at http://dlmaynard.com/whats-new.html or order your own paperback copy by clicking the SON OF MAN link at the top of this page. Prefer to read on your electronic device? Visit me at Amazon to download the Kindle version.

And now for the rest of the story...

As my masthead warns, a lack of blogging on my part is usually a good sign. It means I'm writing a novel instead of writing ABOUT a novel. Before I jump right into the next novel, though, a few words about this one.

Son of Man is the hardest thing I've ever written, and in the process of wrestling with it, I also found myself wrestling with God more than once. The AUDACITY of thinking for a moment that I could write an entire novel from the p-o-v of Yeshua... and yet, here it is. You can blame Dr. Bob Tuttle for that, at least in part, since his comments about Brothers encouraged me not to give up on this book when I was on the verge of quitting.

Even so, it might have taken me another four years to finish it if not for the constant nagging frequent reminders from my new friend Susan Pitchford. (Autocorrect is desperate to turn your name into "Pitchfork," Susan -- I find that oddly appropriate!) She became my friend when she contacted me via my website to ask why I hadn't published Son of Man by the promised deadline; I told her if she wanted to read it that badly, she'd have to help me finish it, and she did! (Let it never be said that I don't read my fan mail.) 

When it came down to the last chapter, I had to pause in my writing to lead a Bible study at my home church. This hurt. I was "in the zone" and the words were flowing; the last thing I wanted to do was stop. God honored my faithfulness, however, and the conversation we had at that study provided the focus for the final scene. The kingdom IS wherever the King reigns, and I DO want Him to reign in my heart. Thank you, Led, Patty, Bev, Rob, and Ray for helping me remember that. 

Thanks also to the many friends who have prayed for me and supported me as I've pursued (and completed) my seminary degree, visited the Holy Land, and helped plant a church ... all while writing this novel. What an AMAZING four years it's been, and I couldn't have done it without you! Connie Matejek, Kristen and Chad Grissom, Scooter and Dawn Morrison, Theresa Bailey, Bill and Nancy Hall, the aptly-named Dr. Joy Moore, Dr. Bill Patrick, Dr. Rick Gray, Dr. Brian Russell, and so many more ... You have been a blessing to me, and to whatever extent this novel blesses others, please know that you have blessed them as well!

Custodians: Busting Myths about Trash

Today I am going to shamelessly promote the ministry "Custodians." This is a great ministry for me because it doesn't require me to coordinate large numbers of volunteers, make phone calls, or adhere to a set schedule. I don't do any of those things very well. I joined Custodians when I began to realize just how poor a job the Church was doing at fulfilling the first job God ever gave us, which was to take care of the earth.

The LORD God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.

- Genesis 2:15 - 

 For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God ... in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God.

- Romans 8:19-21 - 

Anyone can participate in Custodians. All you need is an empty bag.

My particular group meets (or doesn't meet) twice a week (or once, or three times) at Playalinda Beach (or Sand Point Park, or the neighborhood behind the library) for about an hour and a half (or half an hour, or three hours ... you get the drift). We pick up trash. Then we throw it in the nearest trash can.

It's that simple.

Today I was blessed by a woman from Maine who was visiting Playalinda with her husband. He was fishing. She was watching him. Then she started watching me. She got up and asked if I had an extra bag. I did. (Note: it is always a good idea to carry an extra bag.) She then proceeded to clean the beach, taking the half closest to the waves while I patrolled the dunes. We each got a full bag, a lot of exercise, and the enjoyment of helping to keep the beach beautiful.

Pelicans, cormorants, gulls, and terns on Playalinda Beach.

Side Note: A plug here for Playalinda Beach, which is part of the Canaveral National Seashore. It is one of the most beautiful beaches on the East Coast, completely undeveloped and the premier nesting site for three species of sea turtle. If you've never been there, you should put it on your bucket list. I'm blessed to have it so close.

I've noticed some trends in beach trash, and I am assuming -- since I am trying to look for the good in people -- that these trends are due solely to ignorance on the part of beach goers. Therefore, I am dedicating the rest of this blog to clearing up some myths about trash.

MYTH #1 -- If it is edible, it is not trash.

Pieces of fruit, especially citrus, are quite common on the beach even though there are no fruit trees for miles and miles. Since fruit doesn't tend to fall off trees in neatly-sliced wedges, I think it is reasonable to infer that this fruit is left behind by beach picnickers. Yes, it is biodegradable. However, the only creatures on the beach that are going to eat your lemons are ants. Would you want your children playing in an anthill? (Remember, Florida ants BITE.) Neither would I. To the person who left an entire pineapple on the beach, wrapped in an old pillowcase (I kid you not!), thank you SO much for the ant bites I got trying to clean that mess up.

MYTH #2 -- If it is biodegradable, it is not trash.

Smokers are especially likely to believe this myth, if one judges by the number of cigarette butts I clean up each week. Would you want your children to play in an ashtray? (Especially the ash tray of a stranger?) Neither would I. If you can't bring your own ashtray to pack out your butts when you are finished with them, please learn how to "field strip" a cigarette butt before throwing it on the sand. And for those mothers who are fastidious about cleaning their children's hands with wipes ... take the used wipes home with you! What kind of example are you setting for your little ones? "Joey, wash your hands before you eat. Now drop your trash on the beach, that's a good boy."

MYTH #3 -- If I bury it, it is not trash.

I love this one. Yes, I know sand blows over trash, but I am talking about trash that is deliberately buried ... I can tell the difference. I can only guess the mindset that leads to this sort of thing: Yes, we will bury our trash, and it will stay forever buried, because you know, the beach never erodes or anything. High tide, low tide, tropical storms ... sand never shifts. News flash: that plastic Mountain Dew bottle you buried right beside the plastic Mountain Dew bottle you left lying on top of the sand...I found it because the top inch of sand had already eroded away. 

MYTH #4 -- If I don't want it, but someone else might, it is not trash.

This applies to toys, mostly. Good toys, not even broken ones. Just left lying on the beach. Don't you want those expensive swim goggles any more? What about that shovel? That monster truck? And didn't your pail have a handle when you arrived today? As a parent, I know it can be hard to keep track of your kid's toys, but if they aren't old enough to pick them up when they're through playing, then maybe they aren't old enough to be playing with them unsupervised. I also wonder about the clothing that gets left behind. Were you in so big a hurry to leave that you didn't notice your kid was naked? 

MYTH #5 -- What goes up never comes down, so helium balloons are not trash.

Balloon strings from ONE cleanup.

Sea bird carcass entangled in balloon ribbon.

Not one cleanup day goes by without at least three balloon strings. On a bad day, the take is well over a dozen. Any time I see a balloon release on the news, I cringe. Haven't we been educated about this for decades now? I'm sorry to be graphic, but this bird was so badly entangled in the balloon ribbon that I had to dismember its carcass to get the string off. Please please PLEASE find another way to celebrate. Think of helium balloons as deadly weapons, and treat them accordingly -- because that's what they are.

About a month ago, instead of throwing away the trash my son and I collected (did I mention that this is a great FAMILY ministry?), I brought it home, sorted it by type, and took a photo of it. This is trash we collected in just ONE HOUR. Our beach doesn't look like a trash dump. Most of this stuff is hidden...in fact, finding it is a little like an Easter egg hunt, and can be quite fun. But it is definitely NOT fun for the creatures that live -- and die -- on the beach.

Looks like an "I Spy" page, doesn't it? Can you find:  DENTAL FLOSS PICK, SHOE SOLE, TEDDY BEAR HAIR CLIP,  CIGARETTE HOLDER, MOTOR OIL, FISHING LURE, BEER BOTTLE CAP, CONDIMENTS, MYLAR BALLOON

Arrgh! Revising AGAIN???

As I finish up the last three chapters of the long-awaited Son of Man (sequel to Brothers), I run into one snag after another that keep me from progressing as fast as I'd hoped.

My biggest problem?

Unlike Marian Zimmer Bradley, who confessed years ago that she felt no obligation to be consistent within her Darkover series, citing authorial power to change the decisions of the past without going back to correct them in previously published books ... unlike her, I feel compelled to make the universe of Immanu'El as cohesive as possible.

When I began writing the series, however, my knowledge of Hebrew and of the first-century Palestinian culture was significantly less than it is now. I knew that some of my choices would come back to bite me in the nether quarters one of these days, and have been waiting for scholars of greater competence to call me out on my mistakes.

This has not happened.

What HAS happened is that, as I have learned more Hebrew, I have realized that some of my early decisions were poor ones. I can't let that stand. And so, in the middle of finishing up a book I should have published last year, I am instead revising one of my most popular books, The Voice.

This is NOT an effort to get people to spend money buying a new edition of a book they already have. This is simply a case of refusing to give people wrong information.

Interestingly enough, I am discovering in the corrections some information that I really believe makes the story stronger, even though most of the changes are minor. A sentence here, a paragraph there...

If all goes according to plan (when has it ever?) then the new edition of The Voice will be released before the end of this month. To save you the trouble of buying a copy for just one or two little changes (most of them are corrections of typos and formatting errors), I am going to give you my favorite addition right here. It has to do with the translation of Azazel. The blue parts are the revisions. (And I confess, the translation is my own. Which means it could be totally wrong. But I find it satisfying.)

Enjoy!

When Nathan had found me naked in the wilderness all those years ago, the men of the yahad had whispered Azazel at the sight of me, though they are not a superstitious folk. 

Azazel.

To understand the nature of Azazel, you must appreciate the story of his name, and how it was changed—and this means you must know at least some Hebrew.
As it is now spelled, the name means Strength Has Gone, but this is wishful thinking; Azazel may be bound, but he is strong yet. To this I can testify. The priests in the Temple in Jerusalem, safe behind their walls, they call him Az’azel and do not tremble.

If, however, you switch the position of two letters, the alef and the second zayin, though you do not alter the pronunciation much, the meaning of the name is completely reversed. In the beginning, Azazel bore the name his Creator bestowed upon him: Strength of God, Azaz’el, for he was one of Adonai’s servants.

The men of the yahad, who live on the edge of the desert, they call him Azaz’el, but when they say it, they give it another meaning: Strong God, the name they say he took for himself. It does not refer to Yahuh’s strength. Azazel no longer serves Yahuh. His is a spirit of destruction, of devouring and desiccation. He dwells in the arid places of the earth, under God’s eternal curse. Whether he was bound in the desert because of its dryness, or whether his presence has caused the desert to dry up, I cannot say. Perhaps both are true.

He is called god because, in spite of his imprisonment, he has dominion over the wasteland. Its creatures obey him and do his work. Even the sun, which God in His goodness causes to shine on all the earth, does not bring life to the desert but death, maliciously scorching those who are foolish enough to venture forth under its rays, for so Azazel commands in his hatred of men. His fury prowls the wilderness like a lion, seeking men to devour. He is called strong because few can withstand his wrath.  

I traveled in the desert under the seal and protection of El-Elyon, and by His grace only was I safe from the demons of the wasteland, as He had proven to me so dramatically a few years ago. Azazel would not touch me, nor anyone traveling in my company. But now Yuannan was gone, and I didn’t know where to look for him. “Keep him safe from the vengeance of the evil one, Lord. Help me to find him quickly.”

A Great Guy

I've noticed something. Maybe you have, too. The authors of the four gospels didn't like Judas Iscariot. None of them had anything good to say about him, and John flat-out called him a thief.

I think that's the reason we get him all wrong.

This became obvious to me one day as I was lunching with my friend Robin. She was surprised to find that, reading Talmid, she actually liked Yehudah Ish-Kerioth. She started thinking that maybe she was wrong in identifying him as Judas, because he was a fun guy with a sense of humor and Yeshua (Jesus) hung out with him more than anyone else. "No," I assured her, "he's Judas, all right."

"Well," she said, "then that's just one more reason to like this book. I never thought of Judas that way before."

Few people have. Why is this? After all, the Bible is clear when it says Jesus was betrayed by a close friend. He himself quoted the psalm that prophesied this tragedy:

Even my close friend, someone I trusted, one who shared my bread, has turned against me. (Psalm 41:9)

I don't know about you, but I like my close friends.  I even like my not-so-close friends.  That is (in my opinion) the definition of friendship. I can't say the same for all of my acquaintances, nor my family members, nor my students. But my friends ... them, I like. So if Judas was a close friend of Jesus, it makes sense that Jesus actually liked Judas. In my mind, that makes Judas a likable guy.

Betrayal is a funny thing (not funny-ha-ha, but funny-strange). It can only happen where trust exists.  Where there is no trust, there can be no betrayal. Some people think (because of the way John worded his gospel) that Jesus knew right off the bat which one of the Twelve would betray him, and that Jesus chose Judas as his betrayer, and that he never really got close to Judas emotionally because -- after all -- Judas was a scum bag. If this were the case, however, there would have been no betrayal.

Let me use a parable to get this idea across.

Jim was low on cash. He owned an expensive painting but he knew that, in the current economy, he couldn't sell it for even half of what it was worth. "If only someone would break into my house and steal it," he reasoned, "then I could collect the insurance." Jim was no idiot, though. He knew he'd have to involve the police and that whoever stole the painting would have to be caught. Otherwise, the insurance company (and the police) would suspect that Jim had stolen his own painting. So Jim, being no idiot, decided he needed a new friend. He started hanging out in all the wrong places until, sure enough, he became acquainted with a man who was known as only marginally honest. He bought the guy a beer and invited him to go fishing, and within weeks the two of them were inseparable. Jim's other friends were leery of Bob, but since Jim vouched for him, they tolerated his presence at their get-togethers. No one was really surprised, however, when Jim's valuables disappeared ... around the same time that Bob left the state. "He betrayed me!" Jim said again and again. "Well," his friends replied, "next time maybe you'll listen to us."

Betrayed? Hardly. Yet this is the way so many of us have been trained to view the relationship between Jesus and Judas. Now, I don't think I'm contradicting the scriptures here. Jesus DID know who was going to betray him: one of his closest friends. And he chose all twelve of them knowing that one of them was going to turn on him; he chose twelve men who had the capacity for betrayal, and he allowed himself to become emotionally attached to every one of them, accepting the fact that one of them was going to turn against him. Many articles and commentaries have explored the possible reasons Judas had for betraying Jesus, but few have asked the more important question: why was it Judas and not one of the others?

At the Last Supper, each of the disciples asked Jesus who the betrayer would be. "Is it I, Lord? Is it I?"  I wonder how many times, earlier in their friendship, Jesus had looked into each face and asked, "Is he the one, Father?  Is he?" Obviously, toward the end, Jesus knew it was Judas. But did he know this -- would he allow himself to know this -- right from the start? Or would that have negated the prophecy by turning a betrayal into something less painful?

I honestly think the whole betrayal thing started out as a misunderstanding. Jesus said or did something, Judas misunderstood, and the rest is history. Why do I believe this? Think about it ... how many times in your own experience have two good friends become enemies overnight over a simple misunderstanding? Do you think maybe this is the reason Jesus tells us to go first to the one who has wronged us? To avoid a misunderstanding turning into a war?

I cannot think of another thing that's as painful as betrayal. And yet, most betrayals could be averted by clear communication. It is when we rush into reaction -- as Judas did -- that a misunderstanding escalates into something that destroys relationships, destroys marriages, destroys ministries, destroys careers, destroys reputations ... destroys lives.

I don't know you, but I do know this. If you are ever betrayed, it will be by someone you love, someone you like, someone you trust. You can easily avert that betrayal: just stop having friends. (Hermits are never betrayed.) If that seems like too drastic a measure, then try Plan B: when someone you love says or does something that you don't understand, go to that person. Listen more than you talk, and find a way to work it out. Don't let a misunderstanding cause you to throw your best friend under a bus and then hang yourself. Don't follow the example set by Judas ... who, by the way, was a great guy. He had some issues, but don't we all? Don't we all?

Of Roses and Metaphor

"Stop and smell the roses" doesn't mean what it used to mean. At least, not in my experience. I've long made a point of stopping to smell roses whenever I walk past them (beautiful things, aren't they?) but, for quite some time now, I have suffered disappointment at the result. I remember loving the smell of roses as a kid. We never grew them in our yard, so I had to enjoy them vicariously, on the fly-by, stealing discreet whiffs (and occasionally stealing blossoms in thorn-pricked fingers) from neighbors' bushes. A few times during my teenage years I received a bouquet of roses from my father, usually on opening night of a school play or concert, but our family budget didn't allow for such extravagance often. So the smell of roses remains in my memory not merely as pleasant, but as luxurious.

Apparently horticulturalists have devoted considerable effort over the years to breeding ever larger and more spectacular varieties of rose, as well as hardier varieties that will bloom just about anywhere with little or no effort on the part of amateur landscapers. There are even thornless varieties that enable florists to create painless bouquets that strip roses of any poetic or metaphoric depth. In the process of catering to eyes and ease, these scientists have also stripped roses of their fragrance.

You don't have to look too hard to find someone ranting about genetically-modified corn or wheat or cattle of one ilk or another. But where are those who will stand up and express quiet outrage at the mutilation of the rose? "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet," averred Shakespeare's Juliet, and yet, that which we now call a rose has no smell whatsoever.

When I was twelve, I wrote a poem using the rose as a metaphor for life, contrasting its fragrance and its peril (though the flower is sweet / the thorns are sharp). That poem would make little sense to today's youth, who have probably never smelled a rose-scented rose or, indeed, suffered the pricks of its thorns. And so I toss off a new poem for your perusal.

the rose of progress
beckons to me with its splendor
I stop and inhale deeply
then walk briskly on
cheated once again

My Heroes

Who are your heroes? I guess that depends on what things you most value in a person. For me, a hero is someone I want to emulate, someone who represents something that I hold to be good and noble and true. My heroes aren't perfect people (well, one of them is) but they are all excellent people in more than one respect. And so, after much deliberation, I present for your edification ten people whose examples  have edified me:

Sam Gamgee (Sean Astin's interpretation)

10. Samwise Gamgee (The Lord of the Rings, J. R. R. Tolkien). Sam is the only fictional person on my list though I am an avid reader of fiction and could easily have stuffed my hero file with figments of other writers' imaginations. I made an exception for Sam because he is, for me, a paradigm of selfless, sacrificial service born of love. Sam is in way over his head and he knows it, but he sees the mission through to the end simply because it is the only way he knows to express his love for Frodo and all that is good in the world. I want to learn to love like that.

Harriet Tubman

9. Harriet Tubman. Harriet Tubman stands in my esteem not only as a hero in her own right but also as a representative of all the men and women over the ages who have put their lives and liberty on the line -- repeatedly -- to help others escape the bonds of whatever slavery they themselves escaped. She was free, but she risked losing that hard-won freedom again and again because she was unwilling to leave anyone behind. People called her "Moses," but I think she went Moses one better in that respect.

Alan Shepherd, 1961

8. Alan Shepherd. America's first astronaut won my heart and my admiration a few years ago. Watch the footage of the early, unmanned Mercury rockets exploding in all sorts of spectacular failures and then ask yourself if you would have climbed aboard one of them.

Bob Tuttle in Capernaum

7. Dr. Robert Tuttle. You probably haven't heard of Bob Tuttle, but that's your loss. He became my hero about halfway down Mount Sinai. Go buy one of his books and read it. Then sign up for a tour that he's hosting and stick as close to him as your stamina will permit. If you can enroll in a class he's teaching, do so. Pay attention to him. Pay close attention. There's a good chance he'll become one of your heroes too.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

6. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. What can I say? He had a dream, and little by little that dream is becoming reality. There aren't a lot of people in this country who are brave enough -- or who have enough faith -- to put the harder teachings of Jesus into practice. Dr. King was one of them. He took a stand against evil without resorting to the tactics of evil, and because of him I am able to sit next to my friend Joy on a commercial airline -- or anywhere else -- without either of us being afraid of reprisals.

Alexander Megos

5. Alexander the Great. I don't admire Alexander for his military genius, but for his ability to create culture. He was millennia ahead of his time in embracing multiculturalism.

Connie Matejek

4. Constance Schiavi Matejek (my mother). She'll probably be surprised to see herself on this list, but my mother is an extremely creative and caring individual who inspired a love of learning in me. She's also pretty humble.

Paul of Tarsus

3. The Apostle Paul. It takes a big man to admit he's wrong, especially when he's WRONG. (See Acts 9.) It takes an even bigger man to pick himself up and get over it. (See Acts 13-28 and the rest of the New Testament!)

John the Baptist

2. John the Baptist. John understood the meaning of commitment. While we don't know much about him, what we do know is fairly impressive. John was totally sold out to God, and Jesus said of him, "Among men born of women, there has not arisen one greater than John." Pretty solid character reference, if you ask me.

Yeshua HaMashiah

1. Yeshua (Jesus) of Nazareth. This would seem like a no-brainer, but really the things I most admire about Yeshua as a hero have to do with his humanity, not his divinity. He was courageous precisely because he was not invincible. Having voluntarily set aside his power (see Philippians 2) he faced the same temptations and the same hardships that we all face every day of our lives, and he did so in order that we might be saved. That is not only love, it is courage.