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The Destruction of Jerusalem · The Chosen People

• 0:00
  Speaker 1: Previously on The Chosen People. The siege arrived like a
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  Speaker 1: slow mounting tide. King Nebuchadnezzar was patient, inevitable.
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  Speaker 2: Take them.
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  Speaker 1: The army of Babylon was released like wolves. Every corner
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  Speaker 1: of the city was ransacked. Men were killed, priests were
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  Speaker 1: put on pikes, and the monuments to Judah's former greatness
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  Speaker 1: were burnt to a crisp. The work of Solomon, ashes.
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  Speaker 1: The legacy of David, rubble. Nebuchadnezzar knew better than to
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  Speaker 1: simply subjugate a people. He wanted them to lose all
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  Speaker 1: sense of culture and history. He wanted their heritage diluted
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  Speaker 1: and their heroes forgotten.
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  Speaker 3: For I know the plans I have for you, declares
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  Speaker 3: the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you.
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  Speaker 3: Plans to give you hope and a future.
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  Speaker 1: And somewhere in the temple, once the footstool of the
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  Speaker 1: Most High, the smoke no longer rose because the covenant
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  Speaker 1: had been broken. Not just once, but a thousand times.
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  Speaker 2: But the God of Jacob was still watching. waiting.
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  Speaker 1: There was a moment, a flicker of mercy, a single
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  Speaker 1: breath suspended between empire and annihilation. It was the moment
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  Speaker 1: when King Zedekiah could have listened to the Lord. He
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  Speaker 1: could have bent, could have lived. But Judah's final king,
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  Speaker 1: like everyone before him, had confused humility with humiliation. Underneath
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  Speaker 1: his borrowed crown and ceremonial robes, he was afraid. Afraid
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  Speaker 1: of Nebuchadnezzar. Afraid of the Lord. Afraid of Jeremiah's voice.
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  Speaker 1: Afraid to act and more afraid to be still. He
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  Speaker 1: ruled for eleven years. Not with wisdom, not with tyranny,
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  Speaker 1: but with crippling indecision. His reign was a slow, passive
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  Speaker 1: descent into doom. In the half-lit palace hall, torchlight flickered
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  Speaker 1: off golden columns no one polished anymore. The walls echoed
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  Speaker 1: with the absence of faith. Zedekiah paced, each step heavier.
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  Speaker 2: Than the last.
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  Speaker 1: His eyes were ringed with sleeplessness, his movements staccato with anxiety.
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  Speaker 2: The few advisors who hadn't fled or.
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  Speaker 1: Defected stood in a line, hollow-eyed and tight-lipped, as if
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  Speaker 1: their very presence could be held against them.
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  Speaker 2: We can't keep babbling to... We can't keep bowing, bowing
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  Speaker 2: to Babylon.
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  Speaker 4: Babylon!
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  Speaker 2: What's left of our people are restless. We must act.
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  Speaker 2: We must act. My lord, rebellion means death.
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  Speaker 1: Nebuchadnezzar does not know mercy.
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  Speaker 2: But the lord does. Perhaps he will deliver us. We're
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  Speaker 2: so far gone.
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  Speaker 5: If the lord was to act, wouldn't he have already?
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  Speaker 1: The words were heavy. No one said anything after that.
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  Speaker 1: Beneath the palace, beneath the streets, beneath even the prayers,
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  Speaker 1: there was a pit. not a prison, a tomb with air,
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  Speaker 1: a hole carved into the shame of a nation that
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  Speaker 1: could no longer hear its own prophet. At the bottom
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  Speaker 1: of that pit lay the prophet Jeremiah, broken but unbent,
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  Speaker 1: muttering scripture and warnings in equal measure. His wrists were
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  Speaker 1: bruised from rope, his lips cracked from thirst, but the
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  Speaker 1: fire in his bones was lit. and refused to be
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  Speaker 1: put out. He leaned his head against the cold stone,
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  Speaker 1: sighing another prayer. Then, from above, a voice sneered into
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  Speaker 1: the dark.
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  Speaker 5: Still alive down there, prophet?
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  Speaker 2: Still alive.
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  Speaker 5: Still prophesying. Would you like to hear the word of
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  Speaker 5: God again?
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  Speaker 4: We've heard enough doom for a lifetime.
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  Speaker 5: No, you haven't heard enough. Not nearly enough.
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  Speaker 1: They all thought if they ignored Jeremiah long enough, he'd
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  Speaker 1: die off like an infection. But prophets don't die easily.
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  Speaker 1: Jeremiah's voice had haunted Jerusalem for years, scraping the temple walls,
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  Speaker 1: bleeding through palace corridors. They jailed him, beat him, starved him,
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  Speaker 1: called him a traitor. But the Lord didn't stop speaking.
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  Speaker 1: And Jeremiah, God help him, didn't stop listening. Outside the city,
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  Speaker 1: the second siege didn't come like thunder. It came like cancer. Quiet, total, slow.
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  Speaker 1: Babylonian armies surrounded the city with the patience. Nebuchadnezzar was
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  Speaker 1: a brutal man, but he was no barbarian. He was
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  Speaker 1: calculated and understood the worth of every body. Every man
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  Speaker 1: he slayed was one less hand to aid in building
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  Speaker 1: his empire. He wouldn't butcher them carelessly. But he was
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  Speaker 1: not a king of mercy. He came, and he came
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  Speaker 1: with strength. There were no demands, no battles, just the
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  Speaker 1: sound of gates sealing from the outside. A silence that
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  Speaker 1: choked hope like a noose. Inside a crumbling home near
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  Speaker 1: the city wall, a woman stirred a pot, not of food.
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  Speaker 2: Just water.
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  Speaker 1: She moved slowly, not out of reverence, but because starvation
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  Speaker 1: had stolen her strength. Her child watched, eyes wide and glassy,
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  Speaker 1: ribs like blades beneath his skin. The child whined in hunger,
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  Speaker 1: wondering if his mother was cooking something for him.
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  Speaker 2: She wasn't. She couldn't.
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  Speaker 1: Around the city, the whispers spread like rot of rats
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  Speaker 1: roasted over coals, of leather belts softened in boiling water,
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  Speaker 1: of infants.
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  Speaker 2: Buried without names.
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  Speaker 1: Every alley carried stories of mothers holding silence where children
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  Speaker 1: used to be. The prophets kept screaming. No one listened anymore.
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  Speaker 1: In the royal chambers, Zedekiah sat alone, the sound of
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  Speaker 1: wailing rising through the stone beneath his feet like a
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  Speaker 1: funeral dirge that never ended. He unrolled the scroll with
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  Speaker 1: shaking fingers, Jeremiah's handwriting smuggled in by someone still foolish
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  Speaker 1: enough to hope.
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  Speaker 5: Surrender. There is no other way. This is not abandonment.
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  Speaker 5: This is discipline. Yahweh weeps, but he does not relent.
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  Speaker 1: Zedekiah crumpled the parchment and wept.
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  Speaker 2: Again? I can't be the king who surrenders.
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  Speaker 1: But the fool didn't realize that he already was. The
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  Speaker 1: choice had been made. Two years passed. Two years of
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  Speaker 1: starvation and silence. Two years of priests pretending the Lord
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  Speaker 1: still lived behind the veil. Two years of prayer echoing
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  Speaker 1: off heaven like stones off a dead wall. And then
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  Speaker 1: it happened. The ram came. At the edge of night,
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  Speaker 1: Babylon's battering ram struck Jerusalem's wall with the force.
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  Speaker 2: Of divine judgment.
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  Speaker 1: Stones split. Fire followed. The defenses crumbled. Zedekiah fled like
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  Speaker 1: a coward. Long gone were the days of King David
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  Speaker 1: valiantly roaring into battle ahead of his armies. Zedekiah ran
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  Speaker 1: like a frightened rabbit. He ran through the garden and
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  Speaker 1: the broken palace gate. With his sons and his guards
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  Speaker 1: at his side, he ran toward the plains, toward Jericho,
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  Speaker 1: toward the faint, impossible hope that judgment could still be outrun.
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  Speaker 2: But it couldn't.
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  Speaker 1: In the dust of the plains, Babylonian soldiers closed in.
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  Speaker 1: They came slowly, purposeful. They didn't rush. At the helm
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  Speaker 1: was King Nebuchadnezzar, clad in dark, polished armor. They turned
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  Speaker 1: the corner, meeting Zedekiah in flight. Zedekiah's eyes widened in horror.
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  Speaker 1: He tried to turn. But his frantic sons behind him
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  Speaker 1: caused him to trip. Nebuchadnezzar sighed and softly commanded his archer.
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  Speaker 2: In the shoulder.
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  Speaker 1: His archer was quick and precise, releasing an arrow that
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  Speaker 1: hit Zedekiah square in the right shoulder. The king of
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  Speaker 1: Judah writhed on the floor. The Babylonians marched forward, surrounding Zedekiah.
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  Speaker 2: Please. Be pleased, Lord Nebuchadnezzar.
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  Speaker 5: Quiet.
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  Speaker 1: The hulking man gave a swift kick to Zedekiah's ribs,
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  Speaker 1: knocking the air out of his lungs. He drew his
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  Speaker 1: sword and aimed its tip at one of Zedekiah's sons.
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  Speaker 2: I made you king, Zedekiah. I gave you Judah. I
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  Speaker 2: know you were more than fair. Yet you broke your oath.
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  Speaker 1: Nebuchadnezzar unceremoniously drove his dagger into the throat of Zedekiah's
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  Speaker 1: oldest son.
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  Speaker 4: My boy! I said quiet!
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  Speaker 5: Quiet!
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  Speaker 1: He strode to the other boy, who was bound by
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  Speaker 1: his soldiers. He slashed his throat with cold, quiet ease.
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  Speaker 2: I am a man of war, Zedekiah. Conquest. Glory. As such,
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  Speaker 2: I must be a man who reads.
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  Speaker 1: Another son, another blade to the throat.
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  Speaker 2: I've read about Moses standing against Pharaoh.
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  Speaker 1: I've read about Joshua toppling a fortified wall.
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  Speaker 2: Your forefather, David, slaying a giant.
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  Speaker 1: The Babylonian king drove his sword downward into Zedekiah, the
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  Speaker 1: youngest son, letting the steel sink deep and remain there.
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  Speaker 1: He then turned and retrieved a hot iron from the
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  Speaker 1: hearth nearby. Its tip pulsed with white-hot intensity. Nebuchadnezzar leaned
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  Speaker 1: forward to Zedekiah.
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  Speaker 2: The glory of your ancestors dies with you. You cowardly, pathetic, sniveling,
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  Speaker 2: double-minded dog.
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  Speaker 1: He pressed the iron rod forward into Zedekiah's eyes.
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  Speaker 2: Zedekiah thrashed.
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  Speaker 1: The guards held him still. He did not scream now.
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  Speaker 2: He couldn't. He just convulsed. Then, silence.
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  Speaker 1: His hands clawed at his face, blood running down his
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  Speaker 1: beard in streams. The sockets were blackened voids, and in
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  Speaker 1: that void he was still alive, alive to remember, to
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  Speaker 1: carry the last thing he ever saw burned onto the
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  Speaker 1: back of his ruined eyelids, his sons, dying one by one.
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  Speaker 1: They chained him after that, led him away, The man
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  Speaker 1: who once sat on David's throne, who once signed decrees
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  Speaker 1: in God's name, was now just a blind animal being
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  Speaker 1: hauled off to a foreign zoo. Not a king, not
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  Speaker 1: a man, just a cautionary tale. In the dark pit
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  Speaker 1: of a Babylonian prison cell, Zedekiah sat alone. His hands
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  Speaker 1: rested in his lap like they had forgotten how to pray.
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  Speaker 2: His eyes, now just scars, stared at nothing.
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  Speaker 1: Sometimes he whispered scripture, what he could remember, which was
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  Speaker 1: very little. Sometimes he cried, but mostly he was silent.
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  Speaker 1: This was how it ended, the last king of Judah.
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  Speaker 1: The line of David was broken. The walls of Jerusalem cracked.
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  Speaker 1: The covenant was scattered like bones across a battlefield. But
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  Speaker 1: despite what so many living in this darkness thought, the
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  Speaker 1: Lord was not gone. He was in the pit with Jeremiah.
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  Speaker 1: He was in the dust beside Ezekiel. He was standing
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  Speaker 1: next to young Daniel in a foreign court. Because judgment
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  Speaker 1: isn't absence. its presence in the fire. It is mercy
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  Speaker 1: disguised as ruin. It is exile, not as an ending,
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  Speaker 1: but as a beginning. It took 11 days to unmake
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  Speaker 1: a city that took centuries to build. 11 days for
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  Speaker 1: King Nebuchadnezzar to turn the covenant people into a valley
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  Speaker 1: of dry bones.
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  Speaker 2: He did not rage. He did not roar.
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  Speaker 1: He moved through Zion like a surgeon through cancer, blade steady,
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  Speaker 1: expression blank, dissecting every sacred thing Judah thought untouchable. And
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  Speaker 1: when he stood in the temple courts, beneath the massive
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  Speaker 1: bronze pillars, beside the altar soaked in generations of prayer,
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  Speaker 1: he didn't tremble. He smiled, not cruelly, not joyfully, just professionally.
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  Speaker 1: None of this was personal. It was business, the business
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  Speaker 1: of conquest. Morning broke through the smoke on the Temple Mount.
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  Speaker 1: The priests who hadn't been slaughtered during the initial breach
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  Speaker 1: now stood barefoot in the outer court, wrapped in sackcloth,
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  Speaker 1: eyes wide with the kind of disbelief that doesn't leave
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  Speaker 1: room for words. Some still held incense burners, shaking hands,
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  Speaker 1: lifting them like shields against death. Others mouthed psalms, the
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  Speaker 1: old songs, the ones they learned as children in temple
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  Speaker 1: schools that no longer stood.
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  Speaker 4: How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord.
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  Speaker 1: Almighty, the temple gates thudded.
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  Speaker 4: My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the Lord.
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  Speaker 1: The hinges were breaking. The onslaught was coming.
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  Speaker 4: My heart and my flesh cry out, O living God.
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  Speaker 1: Coals from the burning battering ram spat through the cracks.
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  Speaker 2: Of the gates.
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  Speaker 4: Better is one day in your courts, better is one
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  Speaker 4: day in your house, than a thousand elsewhere.
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  Speaker 1: The gates gave way, swiftly turning to ash beneath the
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  Speaker 1: blue flames. The priests beheld the full force of Babylon,
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  Speaker 1: armed with spears and torches.
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  Speaker 4: Lord Almighty, blessed are those who trust in you.
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  Speaker 1: Fiery arrows filled the smoke-filled skies like stars against the night,
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  Speaker 1: and then the flames touched gold. The fire reached the temple,
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  Speaker 1: licking along the beams like the fire itself wanted to
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  Speaker 1: savor the taste of holiness.
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  Speaker 2: And then it devoured.
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  Speaker 1: Babylonian soldiers tore through the sacred walls with sound and fury.
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  Speaker 1: They didn't dismantle, they desecrated. The inner court collapsed under
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  Speaker 1: boot and blade. Not one stone was left on another.
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  Speaker 1: They ransacked God's house, and the temple was utterly consumed,
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  Speaker 1: along with the hope of Israel. It was dark inside
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  Speaker 1: the temple sanctuary, the Lord's footstool. It was the place
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  Speaker 1: where heaven once touched earth, but now it was a relic.
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  Speaker 1: The sacred vessels were ripped from their stations. Gold basins,
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  Speaker 1: silver trumpets, and bowls sanctified with generations of blood and
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  Speaker 1: incense were torn down, carried out, and piled like trophies.
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  Speaker 2: Load them all. Babylon will melt down the worship of
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  Speaker 2: this god and turn it into currency.
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  Speaker 1: A young priest, no older than twenty, lunged. His voice
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  Speaker 1: cracked with grief and fury.
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  Speaker 6: No, that gold is holy. That fire is forbidden. You'll
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  Speaker 6: regret tampering with it.
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  Speaker 1: A soldier came to thrust a spear in the young
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  Speaker 1: man's belly, but the king stopped him.
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  Speaker 2: Tell me.
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  Speaker 3: What do you think will happen if I play with
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  Speaker 3: your God's toys?
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  Speaker 2: Our people have stories.
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  Speaker 6: Stories of men being struck dead for even touching such
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  Speaker 6: things in good faith, let alone with disgrace. Our God
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  Speaker 6: is not mocked.
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  Speaker 1: Nebuchadnezzar didn't move. He didn't argue. He nodded once. A
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  Speaker 1: Babylonian soldier stepped forward. One thrust, the boy fell beneath
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  Speaker 1: the menorah. The palace went next. The throne room, where
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  Speaker 1: David once played harp, was soaked in.
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  Speaker 2: Blood and ash.
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  Speaker 1: Lions embroidered into velvet curtains shriveled.
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  Speaker 2: In the flames.
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  Speaker 1: The cedar beams, brought down from Lebanon generations ago to
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  Speaker 1: declare the glory of Israel's kingship, split and hissed like
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  Speaker 1: serpents as they turned to cinders. Then came the walls,
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  Speaker 1: then the towers, then the homes, then the people. The
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  Speaker 1: ones who fled were cut down in alleys. The ones
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  Speaker 1: who stayed were dragged from hiding places and made to watch.
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  Speaker 1: No one died with dignity. They died with open mouths,
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  Speaker 1: screaming or praying. The two were one and the same.
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  Speaker 1: By sunset, the city was unrecognizable. Streets once filled with
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  Speaker 1: pilgrims and laughter now choked with smoke and silence. Bodies
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  Speaker 1: slumped in heaps like punctuation marks to unfinished prayers. Mothers wandered,
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  Speaker 1: arms empty, eyes searching for children already turned to ash.
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  Speaker 1: Dogs licked the blood from stones and somewhere in the
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  Speaker 1: smoke Jeremiah stumbled through the rubble. His robe hung in tatters.
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  Speaker 1: His voice was hoarse. He collapsed near the remains of
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  Speaker 1: the city gate, ash caking his face. Jeremiah looked up
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  Speaker 1: at Zion. Her towers were shattered, her sanctuary gone, her
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  Speaker 1: streets soaked in blood. And then the prophet screamed. Not words, wailing, rage, despair.
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  Speaker 1: This wasn't just a conquest. It was uncreation. Genesis in reverse.
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  Speaker 1: The undoing of Sinai. It felt like the very end
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  Speaker 1: of the covenant. The priests were slaughtered. The scrolls reduced
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  Speaker 1: to floating flecks of carbon. The temple, now just broken
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  Speaker 1: stone and melting gold. A god-shaped hole was carved into
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  Speaker 1: the city. In the city square, what remained of the
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  Speaker 1: people were bound in chains. Bakers, stonecutters, scribes, poets, singers,
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  Speaker 1: every voice that once defined the soul of Judah now
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  Speaker 1: herded like cattle toward a future they did not choose.
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  Speaker 1: Jeremiah fell to his knees in sorrow. He stumbled to
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  Speaker 1: a ridge on his hands and knees, watching his people
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  Speaker 1: march in Babylonian chains. The wind whispered something, a prophecy,
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  Speaker 1: a promise. His trembling voice calling out over the ridge
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  Speaker 1: for the chosen people to hear.
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  Speaker 5: Hear the words of your God, O Israel. When 70
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  Speaker 5: years are completed for Babylon, I will send for you.
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  Speaker 5: I will set you free and bring you back to
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  Speaker 5: this place. For I know the plans I have for you.
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  Speaker 7: Plans to prosper and not harm you. Plans to give
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  Speaker 7: you hope and a future. Then you will call on me.
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  Speaker 7: Come and pray to me and I will listen. You
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  Speaker 7: will seek me and find me when you seek me
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  Speaker 7: with all your heart. I will be found by you
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  Speaker 7: and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather
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  Speaker 7: you from all the nations and places where I have
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  Speaker 7: banished you and will bring you back to my arms.
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  Speaker 1: The children of God were silent after that because hope
• 23:45
  Speaker 1: doesn't always need to shout. Sometimes it simply breathes. Jeremiah's
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  Speaker 1: words were not a revival. They were not the beginning
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  Speaker 1: of restoration. Those words were something different. stranger, holier. This
• 24:04
  Speaker 1: was mercy where it shouldn't have been. This was grace
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  Speaker 1: leaking through the cracks of pain. This was the whisper
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  Speaker 1: in the smoke, the ember in the ash, the broken
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  Speaker 1: covenant still breathing. Because the Lord had not forgotten. Mercy
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  Speaker 1: hides in margins. The God who once thundered from Sinai
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  Speaker 1: knows how to set a table, even in Babylon. Ash
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  Speaker 1: still covered Zion like a burial cloth. Bones still littered
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  Speaker 1: the valley. The temple was still gone. The king was blind.
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  Speaker 1: The ark was missing. The songs were faint. But hope,
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  Speaker 1: hope was eating dinner in Babylon. And the Lord was
• 24:55
  Speaker 1: not done, not even close. This Pray.com production is only
• 25:03
  Speaker 1: made possible by our dedicated team of creative talents. Steve Gatina,
• 25:08
  Speaker 1: Max Bard, Zach Schelleberger and Ben Gammon are the executive
• 25:11
  Speaker 1: producers of The Chosen People, narrated by Paul Coltofianu. Characters
• 25:16
  Speaker 1: are voiced by Jonathan Cotton, Aaron Salvato, Sarah Seltz, Mike Reagan,
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  Speaker 1: Stephen Ringwald, Sylvia Zaradok, Thomas Copeland Jr., Rosanna Pilcher, and
• 25:28
  Speaker 1: Mitch Lashinsky. Music by Andrew Morgan Smith. Written by Aaron Salvato,
• 25:33
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