Tribulation Force: The Continuing Drama Of Those Left Behind by Tim Lahaye, Jerry B. Jenkins Page B

with Chaim Rosenzweig in the opulent waiting room outside the office of the secretary-general of the United Nations. Chaim was merrily going on about something, and Buck pretended to pay attention. He was praying silently, not knowing if his foreboding sense of evil was psychological because he knew Nicolae Carpathia was nearby, or if the man truly emitted some sort of demonic aura detectable to followers of Christ. Buck was warmed by the knowledge that Bruce was praying for him right then, and he was having second thoughts about not informing Rayford and Chloe of his trip. His return ticket was for the 5 P.M. flight, so he knew he’d be back in time for the first of the 8 P.M. study sessions Bruce had planned. Buck looked forward to it already. He might even see if Chloe wanted to have a late dinner, just the two of them, before the meeting. “So what do you think about that?” Dr. Rosenzweig said.
    “I’m so sorry, Doctor,” Buck said. “My mind was elsewhere.”
    “Cameron, don’t be nervous. Nicolae was upset, yes, but he has only good things in store for you.”
    Buck shrugged and nodded.
    “Anyway, I was saying. My dear friend Rabbi Tsion Ben-Judah has finished his three-year study, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he wins a Nobel Prize for it.”
    “His three-year study?”
    “You weren’t listening at all, were you, my friend?”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “You must do better when you are with Nicolae, promise me.”
    “I will. Forgive me.”
    “It’s all right. But listen, Rabbi Ben-Judah was commissioned by the Hebrew Institute of Biblical Research to do a three-year study.”
    “A study of what?”
    “Something about the prophecies relating to Messiah so we Jews will recognize him when he comes.”
    Buck was stunned. The Messiah had come, and the Jews left behind had missed him. When he had come the first time most did not recognize him. What should Buck say to his friend? If he declared himself a “Tribulation saint,” as Bruce liked to refer to new believers since the Rapture, what might he be doing to himself? Rosenzweig was a confidant of Carpathia’s. Buck wanted to say that a legitimate study of messianic prophecies could lead only to Jesus. But he said only, “What are the major prophecies pointing to the Messiah?”
    “To tell you the truth,” Dr. Rosenzweig said, “I don’t know. I was not a religious Jew until God destroyed the Russian Air Force, and I can’t say I’m devout now. I always took the messianic prophecies the way I took the rest of the Torah. Symbolic. The rabbi at the temple I attended occasionally in Tel Aviv said himself that it was not important whether we believed that God was a literal being or just a concept. That fit with my humanist view of the world. Religious people, Jewish or otherwise, seldom impressed me any more than the atheist with a good heart.
    “Dr. Ben-Judah was a student of mine twenty-five years ago. He was always an unabashed religious Jew, Orthodox but short of a fundamentalist. Of course he became a rabbi, but certainly not because of anything I taught him. I liked him and always have. He recently told me he had finished the study and that it was the most fulfilling and rewarding work he has ever done.” Rosenzweig paused. “I suppose you are wondering why I tell you this.”
    “Frankly, yes.”
    “I’m lobbying for Rabbi Ben-Judah’s inclusion on Nicolae Carpathia’s staff.”
    “As?”
    “Spiritual adviser.”
    “He’s looking for one?”
    “Not that he knows of!” Rosenzweig said, roaring with laughter and slapping his knee. “But so far he has trusted my judgment. That’s why you’re here.”
    Buck lifted an eyebrow. “I thought it was because Carpathia thinks I’m the best journalist in the world.”
    Dr. Rosenzweig leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “And why do you think he believes that?”

    Rayford had had trouble reaching Chloe from his car phone, but he finally got through. “Wondered if you wanted