Ryan Seacrest (3:01)

Hey, it's Ryan Seacrest for Albertsons and Safeway. Now through August 26th, it's back to Deals time where you can enjoy store wide deals and earn four times points. Look for in store tags to earn on eligible items from Lindor, Oreo, lay's Celsius, Cottonelle and Snapple, then clip the offer in the app for automatic event long savings. Shop in store or online for easy drive up and go Pickup or delivery subject to availability restrictions apply. Visit Albertsons or Safeway.com for more details.

Narrator (3:32)

The royal chambers were dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of spiced wine and the faint, cloying remnants of incense. It was an atmosphere designed for brooding. And as it turns out, brooding was one of the few things Ahab excelled at. He lay sprawled on his bed, limbs limp and useless, his face buried in the silk pillow like a child sulking over a lost toy. And truly, what greater burden was there than not getting what you want? The King of Israel, God's anointed ruler of Samaria, conqueror of nothing, lord of all except his own household, had been outmaneuvered by a farmer. Ahab exhaled dramatically, shifting just enough to free his mouth from the pillow so he could lament to the only person who might listen.

King Ahab (4:35)

It's not fair.

Narrator (4:38)

A pause. No response. He lifted his head slightly, glancing toward the heavy drapery that marked the entrance to his chamber.

King Ahab (4:48)

I said it's not fair.

Narrator (4:53)

Suddenly she was there. Jezebel. The firelight flickered against her gold threaded garments, dancing shadows curling around her like loyal pets. She took one look at her pitiful husband and let the silence stretch. An artist admiring a masterpiece of disappointment. Finally she sighed, sharp and unimpressed.

Jezebel (5:19)

Oh, is this any way for a king to act?

Narrator (5:23)

Ahab groaned and flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling like it had personally offended him.

King Ahab (5:30)

You don't understand, Jezebel. I wanted it. I offered him a better vineyard. I offered him money. I was generous. But Naboth won't sell. He said it was his family's inheritance. Some nonsense about Yahweh's law.

Narrator (5:50)

Jezebel's expression barely flickered, but something behind her eyes sharpened, calculating.

Jezebel (5:58)

Oh, so let me make sure I understand this correctly. You, the King of Israel, made a request of a commoner, and he shoved your request right back at your face.

King Ahab (6:10)

He wasn't so aggressive about it, more pleading and sentimental. It was hideous.

Jezebel (6:17)

Hideous indeed. And instead of doing something about it, you came here to sulk, to pout, to starve yourself. Out of sheer melodrama, Ahab had, in.

Narrator (6:29)

Fact, refused to eat dinner. A bold protest indeed. Jezebel exhaled through her nose, slow and measured. There were many things she could tolerate, but weakness was not one of them. And her husband, her king, was a spineless worm.

Jezebel (6:49)

Get up.

Narrator (6:50)

Ahab didn't move.

Jezebel (6:52)

I said get up.

Narrator (6:54)

Ahab obeyed, albeit Slowly she stepped closer, trailing a single finger along the edge of his bedpost, as though considering whether to strangle him with his own sheets.

Jezebel (7:07)

You're the king, Ahab.

Narrator (7:09)

Act like it.

King Ahab (7:10)

But what would you have me do? He won't sell it.

Jezebel (7:15)

Then don't ask him. Just take it. Who's to stop you?

Narrator (7:20)

Ahab blinked. Slow, dull. Jezebel suppressed the urge to strangle him out of sheer annoyance.

Jezebel (7:28)

Oh, do you think other kings beg? Do you think Pharaoh negotiates over land? Do you think Achish of Philistia grovels for a plot of dirt like a sniveling child?

Narrator (7:40)

Ahab hesitated. She could see the gears turning in his feeble little mind, the moral resistance sputtering out like a candle in the wind. And then, in one fluid motion, Jezebel plucked a parchment from the desk beside them, her fingers moving with precise, practiced ease, she dipped a quill into ink, the black liquid pooling against the page like an open wound. With the flourish of someone who had done this before, many, many times before, she wrote a decree in the name of the king, a death sentence wrapped in legality. She pressed Ahab's royal seal against the wax, her fingers lingering for just a breath, longer than necessary, watching as it hardened into permanence. Then she lifted the parchment, tilting it so the firelight caught the words, illuminating the moment where morality had finally drowned beneath ambition.

Jezebel (8:44)

There. That's how a ruler behaves.

King Ahab (8:49)

Is it really that easy for a.

Jezebel (8:52)

Ruler with his manhood intact? Yes, it is that easy, Ahab.

Narrator (8:57)

Ahab watched Jezebel hand the sealed decree to an attendant. He left with a nod. Ahab had the sneaking suspicion that Jezebel had already planned this. She rarely did anything without scheming first. The town square of Jezreel was sluggish and lax, weighed down by heavy bellies and purses. The elders sat in their designated places, their hands resting limply in their laps, their mouths set in grim, knowing lines. Jezebel had seen to their care, and they were loyal to her for it. They had been medicated into an apathetic and indifferent posture of power. Anytime a king's decree written with the queen's handwriting came, they didn't think twice. These were not wicked men, not in the obvious way, but apathy is its own kind of evil. And at the center of the elders was Naboth, the owner of the vineyard Ahab so desperately coveted. The elders had called him there to stand trial. For what? Naboth hadn't the slightest clue. He had spent a lifetime believing that truth mattered. That Yahweh's law was still the highest authority in Israel, and that justice had a meaning beyond the whims of those in power. But people can see, consumed with lust for power, loathe the truth. It's inconvenient. Messy. Naboth watched as two men approached the dais to bear false witness against him. Their faces were thin with hunger. They had clearly been bribed with food. The first pointed, his nail, dirty, his lips curling into the smile of a predator who enjoys the silence, suffering of smaller things.

King Ahab (10:57)

You.

Narrator (10:59)

Naboth's chest tightened. A part of him still clung to disbelief. Surely not. Surely they wouldn't.

King Ahab (11:07)

You have blasphemed God and the king.

Narrator (11:11)

The words struck harder than any stone that would follow. A murmur rippled through the crowd, an eager shuffling, the beginning of movement, the first breath of something dark and ugly, uncoiling. Naboth stood slowly, his eyes sweeping over the gathered faces, looking for one, just one, that might hold his gaze. But they all averted their eyes. The elders sat rigid, their hands gripping the edges of their robes as if afraid of what might happen if they let go.

King Ahab (11:49)

What? No. No.

Narrator (11:51)

This.

King Ahab (11:52)

This is false. I've done nothing of the sort.

Narrator (11:55)

Naboth took a step forward, directing his words to the elders, the men he had respected, the men he had trusted to uphold God's law rather than bow to the whims of a palace that had forgotten him.

King Ahab (12:10)

You know this is false. You know who I am.

Narrator (12:14)

You.

King Ahab (12:15)

You have sat with me in the synagogue. You have heard me pray. You have heard me speak Yahweh's name with reverence. And you have seen my offerings at the altar. Look at me.

Narrator (12:28)

None of them did. They stared at the ground. A few shifted uncomfortably, but none spoke. None would defend him. None would risk themselves. And that was when he understood. This had been decided long before he ever stepped into this square. The elders had already signed their names. The officials had already sent the orders. The stones had already been gathered. The accusations were just a formality, a necessary script to keep the illusion of righteousness intact. Jezebel had written the lines. And these men, these good men, these pious men, these men who should have known better, had taken their parts without protest because survival mattered more than truth, because keeping their place at the table mattered more than justice. Naboth's throat tightened, but he swallowed down the fear. He turned, this time addressing the people. The merchants, the farmers, the neighbors who had traded with him, who had borrowed from him, who had laughed with him on quieter days.

King Ahab (13:46)

You Know me. You know my house, my family, my father before me. I have never spoken a word against the Lord. I have never dishonored the king. King, are you truly willing to let this happen? To let these madness speak? Lies? You know our lies.

Narrator (14:09)

Naboth's eyes swept over the elders, but then, just for a moment, they landed on three faces in the crowd. Faces he knew well, Faces he had called friends. Yakim sat with his hands folded in his lap, his bald head holding an expression carved from stone. Once they had studied the law of Moses together, debating about justice and righteousness. In the late hours now, Yakim barely met his gaze.

King Ahab (14:43)

Yakim, you know me. You have seen my life, my faithfulness. You of all people know that this is a lie.

Narrator (14:54)

I tried to put in the good word for you, but the king has the right to do as he sees fit. Naboth, you must understand that. We all do. Naboth's stomach twisted. The words were precise, detached, spoken with the efficiency of a man who had long since decided which side was safer. He turned next to Eza, the man who had once laughed in his home, whose children had played with his. Eza would not meet his eyes. He shifted in his seat, rubbing his temple, as if the very act of engaging in this moment was too much for him.

King Ahab (15:37)

Ezer, please speak. I. I can't name Hoth. It's already set in motion. I don't have the strength for this fight.

Narrator (15:50)

It was worse than Yakim's coldness. It was cowardice wrapped in weary resignation. Naboth's throat tightened as he turned to the last man. Gadiel. Gadiel was already shaking his head, as if preparing an apology. He would never say. Gadiel, Look, I'll admit it. You've been wronged. But come on now.

King Ahab (16:18)

You must have known we weren't gonna stick our necks out for you.

Narrator (16:22)

The words hit harder than the first stone that would come. Naboth felt his breath leave him, not from the weight of accusation, but from the weight of abandonment. No one objected. No one felt fought for him. The people shifted, uneasy, but no one stood beside him. The machine was already in motion, and it was easier, so much easier to let it crush someone else than to risk being caught in it themselves. Suddenly, the weight of the accusation felt real, even though every soul present had heard the lie for what it was. But it didn't matter now. What mattered was that Jezebel's orders be carried out. What mattered was that the king be given what he wanted, and that the rest of them could sleep soundly, knowing they had done what was necessary. The first stone was thrown, and it struck Naboth's shoulder, knocking him off balance. The second hit his ribs, knocking the wind from his lungs. Then came the third, then the fourth. The frenzy overtook them. They descended on him in a storm of rock and fury, and Naboth fell to the ground. The dust settled. His blood pooled into the dirt. Then came the dogs. They slunk forward, thin and hungry, drawn by the scent of death. They lapped at the blood, indifferent to the weight of the moment, indifferent to the crime that had been committed. Dogs do not care for justice. Far away, behind the walls of the palace, Jezebel received the message. She barely looked up from the goblet in her hand as she listened. When the report was finished, she let a small, silver, dissatisfied smirk curl her lips. She turned to Ahab, who had been waiting in the shadows like a man who did not want to know what price had been paid for his desires.

Jezebel (18:36)

The vineyard is yours now.

Narrator (18:38)

Ahab swallowed, but said nothing. He did not ask how it had been done. He did not ask what had become of Naboth or whether the accusations had been true. He did not even ask if Yahuwah had been watching. He only stood slow and silent and prepared himself to ride out and claim his prize. Somewhere beneath the earth. Naboth's blood seeped into the soil of the very land he had refused to sell, and the Lord saw Ahab stood in his vineyard, surveying his prize, though the taste of victory was already turning sour in his mouth. The sun beat down and the dust clung to his skin like the guilt he refused to acknowledge. He ran a hand over a vine, rolling a plump grape between his fingers, imagining the fine wines he would command, the legacy he would build. Jezebel had seen to everything. She always did. The dirt had settled, the nuisance erased. This was how kings ruled. And why shouldn't he have it? He had thought about it, justified it to himself a hundred different ways.

King Ahab (20:05)

Why shouldn't I own this land? Who else in Israel is more deserving? I'm the king. This vineyard, this whole city, exists because I allow it, too. You think Naboth wouldn't have had the luxury of tending those vines without me, without my armies, my protection, my leadership?

Narrator (20:32)

His fingers traced the rough bark of the vine, his mind spinning, grasping at what scraps of righteousness he could weave together into a reason, any reason, that this wasn't theft.

King Ahab (20:46)

Naboth was stubborn. That was his problem. Couldn't see past his own little Patch of dirt. I offered him a better vineyard, gold, whatever he wanted. But no, he had to be a zealot. Talking about God's law as if I, I, the anointed God, King of Israel. I'm not the one responsible for upholding Yahweh's kingdom. I do more for this land than Naboth ever did.

Narrator (21:20)

The words came fast now, tumbling over each other, desperate, trying to fill the silence before it swallowed him whole.

King Ahab (21:30)

What? What was I supposed to do? Just accept his no. Let some self righteous farmer defy the king? What kind of ruler would that make me?

Narrator (21:43)

No.

King Ahab (21:43)

No, this. This is justice. This is order. The strong rule, the weak obey. That's the way of the world.

Narrator (21:54)

But even as he said it, he felt it. The gnawing, the hollowness, the lie in his own voice. The sun burned hotter. The air thickened. The vines seemed to twist under his hands, curling away from him as if they knew. And then the air shifted. The wind kicked up dry and sudden, rattling the leaves. The hair on Ahab's arms stood on end. A shadow flickered in the heat haze. A presence that did not belong. And before he even turned, before he even saw, he knew. Elijah. That ragged lunatic. That living thorn in his side. That wild eyed God, haunted, insufferable prophet who always showed up just when Ahab thought he could finally enjoy something. And there he was, storming across the field, his tattered cloak whipping behind him, dust curling at his heels like the fury of God. His face was gaunt, all sharp angles and contempt, hair and beard wild and unwashed, eyes burning with the kind of righteous hatred that made Ahab's stomach tighten. The man never looked normal. He looked like a man who lived on locusts and spite. And at this moment, all of it was directed at Ahab. Ahab felt the blood drain from his face. His fingers twitched toward the hilt of his sword. Not to use it, of course, but just to hold something, anything. As if steel could protect him from the judgment that walked toward him on steel, sandaled feet.

King Ahab (23:46)

So you found me, my enemy.

Narrator (23:51)

Elijah didn't even pause, didn't flinch. Just kept walking like a man who had already won the fight before it even started. Found you. Ahem.

King Ahab (24:06)

You bloated sack of wine and cowardice. I didn't have to look. You reek of guilt. The Lord pointed. And there you were, sloshing through stolen.

Narrator (24:19)

Dirt at the overfit peak you are.

King Ahab (24:23)

Mind your tongue, prophet. Or what? You'll throw another tantrum? Run home to your wife so she.

Narrator (24:32)

Can kill a poor servant boy and write me a nasty letter. Letter in his blood. Ahab hated him. Hated the way he spoke, hated the way he moved, hated the way he never bowed, never simpered like the spineless elders and priests. Most of all, Ahab hated how his stomach curled inward at Elijah's words. Because deep down he knew they were true. Elijah stopped just short of him, eyes flicking over the vineyard, letting the silence stretch. Then he laughed. Not a friendly laugh, not even a mocking one. It was worse than that. It was the laugh of a man who had already seen the ending of the story, who knew that all the power Ahab thought he had was nothing but sand through his fingers. First murder, then theft.

King Ahab (25:37)

What's next? Will you steal a cripple's clutch? Snatch a widow's last coin? Maybe ransack an orphanage while you're at it? Enough.

Narrator (25:49)

Look at you, standing here like a fool.

King Ahab (25:52)

Like you'll think this place belongs to you. Like you work this soil. Like you shed sweat for these vines.

Narrator (26:01)

But we both know how you got it, don't we? We both know who bled for this land. And so does the Lord. The wind howled, the sun darkened, and suddenly Ahab felt small. Elijah took a step forward, his voice louder now, like a crack of thunder splitting the heavens.

King Ahab (26:27)

Thus says the Lord God of heaven and earth, the God of the nation you claim to rule in the very spot where the dogs licked up Naboth's blood. They will lap up your blood, yes, your slave.

Narrator (26:42)

Ahab felt the weight of something far bigger than himself pressed down on his chest. Chest. But Elijah wasn't done. And your lovely wife, Jesse J. Don't think yo is forgotten.

King Ahab (27:02)

You'll know what's coming.

Narrator (27:05)

Elijah leaned in close, lowering his voice, the words dripping with venom. The dogs, they will fight for the last scraps of her corpse. Ahab gasped. He took a step back before he could stop himself, before he could remember that he was the king and Elijah was just some half mad prophet who should have been afraid of him. But he wasn't. He never was. The words settled into Ahab's bones, filling the cracks of his cock, conscience like rot. For a long, terrible moment, everything was still. And then Ahab collapsed. He fell, knees slamming into the dirt, hands gripping at his robe like he could tear the guilt out of himself if he just ripped hard enough. His crown slid off, forgotten. His shoulders shook. He ripped his cross clothes, the fine fabric tearing like the illusion of his invincibility. His lips cracked as he whispered words he barely understood. A plea, a prayer, a curse upon himself. He had not even noticed his servants watching, wide eyed, uncertain if they should step forward or step back. Elijah watched him, arms crossed. He was unmoved. But then something unexpected happened. For reasons that would never make sense to Elijah, Ahab's utter desperation stirred the Lord's mercy. Ever so slightly. The voice of Yahweh came not in the fire of judgment, not in the roar of finality, but in the quiet, unseen space between Ahab's whimpering breaths. The Lord saw. And so the punishment was delayed. Not erased, not forgotten, not undone, only delayed. Elijah exhaled, shaking his head, almost annoyed at Yahweh's mercy. He turned, ready to leave, but cast one final glance at the sniveling heap of a king at his feet. Enjoy the wine, Ahab. It won't last. Ahab did not respond. He could not. The prophet walked away, his cloak snapping behind him, his silhouette swallowed by the dust and heat. Ahab remained in the dirt, his body trembling, his face streaked with dust and tears. He had seen, seen the end, and he knew he would not escape. The sun dipped lower. The vineyard stood empty. And on the wall, perched in the growing shadows, a lone raven watched, waiting. The wind carried the echoes of Elijah's words. Judgment always comes.

Ryan Seacrest (30:26)

Hey, it's Ryan Seacrest for Albertsons and Safeway. Now through August 26th, it's back to Deals time, where you can enjoy storewide deals and earn four times points. Look for in store tags to earn on eligible items from Black Label Bacon, Pop Tarts, Quaker Activia, Lunchables, Frito Lake Goldfish and Jack Links. Then clip the offer in the app for automatic event long savings. Shop in store or online for easy drive up and go pickup or delivery subject to availability restrictions apply. Visit Albertsons or Safeway.com for more details.

Yael Eckstein (30:58)

If your faith has been kindled by this podcast and it has affected your life, we'd love it if you left a review. We read them and me personally, I cherish them. As you venture forth boldly and faithfully, I leave you with the biblical Blessing from Numbers 6:6. May the Lord bless you and keep you. May the Lord make His face shine upon you. May he be gracious to you. May the Lord turn His face towards you and give you peace.

Narrator (31:40)

Amen. You can listen to the Chosen People with Yael Eckstein ad free by downloading and subscribing to the prey.com app today. This pray.com production is only made possible by our dedicated team of creative talents, Steve Catina, Max Bard, Zach Schellewager and Ben Gammon are the executive producers of the Chosen People with Yael Eckstein. Edited by Alberto Avila. Narrated by Paul Coltofianu. Characters are voiced by Jonathan Cotton, Aaron Salvato, Sarah Seltz, Mike Reagan, Stephen Ringwald, Sylvia zaradoc, Thomas Copeland Jr. Rosanna Pilcher and Mitch Leschinsky and the opening prayer is voiced by John Moore. Music by Andrew Morgan Smith. Written by Aaron Salvato, Bree Rosalie and Chris Baig. Special thanks to Bishop Paul Lanier, Robin Van Etten, Caleb Burrows, Jocelyn Fuller, Rabbi Edward Abramson and the team at International Fellowship of Christians and Jews. You can hear more Pray.com productions on the Pray.com app available on the Apple App Store and Google Play Store. If you enjoyed the Chosen People with Yael Eckstein, please rate and leave a review.

Ryan Seacrest (32:55)

Hey, it's Ryan Seacrest for Albertsons and SAFEWAY now through August 26th, it's back to Deals time where you can enjoy store wide deals and earn four times points. Look for in store tags to earn on eligible items from Black Label Bacon, Pop Tarts, Quaker Activia, Lunchables, Frito Lay, Goldfish and Jack Links. Then clip the offer in the app for automatic event long savings. Shop in store or online for easy drive up and go pickup or delivery subject to availability restrictions apply. Visit Albertsons or Safeway.com for more details.

Narrator (33:26)

This is an iHeart podcast.