The watchmen

“And I set watchmen over you, saying, ‘Listen to the sound of the trumpet!’ But they said, ‘We will not listen.” - Jeremiah 6:17

Sitting high above the city floor, resting both elbows on the hard, limestone brick, stands the watchman of the king. A member of the royal guard. The wall on which he stands watch, rises high above the floor of the city and encompasses the city on all sides. The walls are six stories high and two stories deep of solid, well laid limestone bricks. The pattern in which the wall is fashioned is that of a star. At the point of each star, there is a tower. Each tower rises one story above the height of the wall. On the top of the tower, there is enough room for about four or five men to stand and move about comfortably. On the inside portion of each tower, there is a large tube, made of stone, that runs down the outside height of the tower. It narrows at the top and widens the closer it gets to the bottom portion of the tower. ( Which is two stories below the roof of the tower. ) The bottom of the tube is twelve feet in diameter and banks upward to resemble the end of a trumpet. These are the Horns of the Watchman. While the entire horn is made of stone, the top portion is fashion with a rams horn and a mouth piece as on a horned instrument. There is one of these horns on each pinnacle or point of the star. They are the city’s alarms, their warning calls. The tool of the watchman.

The watchman must stay ever vigilant, studying the horizon of the kingdom. Looking out far beyond what those inside the city are capable of seeing. He must also understand, what it is he is looking out for. And have a trained eye and ear, to see and hear what is coming. If he does not understand the laws and the voice of his king and kingdom, then how can the watchman tell an enemy, from a friend?

There on the horizon, a vast fume of dust rises faintly into the night sky, lit by the light of the  full moon. He knows what he sees. A great horde, a vast and terrible enemy, bent on death. The watchman knows he mush warn the city, the threat is still far off…but not that far. It will be here by morning. He fears not only the great horde on the edge of the wilderness that rides towards his city, but also his own people! The people he must warn. For tonight, is a night of celebration, of feasting, dancing and music. He knows, that when he sounds his horn, it will bring great fear and anxiety among the people. But he must warn them. He must give them time to sober up, arm themselves in time to prevent total destruction. To stand and fight.

So he did. He took all the air into his lungs that he could gather and blew his great horn. The sound was great! That of one thousand trumpets carried on one hundred great waves crashing on a rocky shore. Upon the first blast, many did not give heed to the call, for they were too engulfed in their merry making and pleasures to notice. After a few more blasts, many more took notice and fear gripped them. Though, as the warning horn sounded more and more; less of the people took it to heart. Some were heard saying,” It’s fake!” Or that,” Some drunkard stumbled his way up to the horn and blew it!” For this city knew only prosperity and victory. They were too far removed from war, or from the need to fight. For this generation, never had to face destruction or invasion or war. But there were some who had ears to hear and eyes to see. And they rushed up to the heights of the wall to see if the warning sounds were true. Through their listening ears, they witnessed with their eyes why the watchman had sounded his alarm. So these few scrambled down the walls and began warning their fellow countrymen….meanwhile, the watchman horn continued to sound.

Some of the citizens were worried, but few would heed the call. Many rejected it! Or simply said,” We are too powerful to be overtaken. Let the enemy come!” As they continued in their celebration and merry making, the few ( knowing what they seen and heard ) prepared for battle. They gathered their armor; their swords, spears, bows and shields. And took their places on the wall.

Though the sound and cry of the watchman was initially received with fear, annoyance and dread, the call was answered…..but only by a few. It was a call from slumber, drunkenness and laziness. It was a call to action and to service, the King’s service. A call to return to the fight or join it for the first time.

A watchman’s call is never a pleasant one, but it is vital for survival. His horn will shake the walls and cause the earth to tremble. His cry is needed, but rarely heeded. Will we heed the horn call? Will we run up the wall to see?

The horn has already been blown.