John Lyman - The Secret Chapel

“How did I know what flight you were arriving on? How did I know what you looked like? Those kinds of questions? Well, let’s just say I have connections at El Al Airlines. A friend of mine who works at the airport in Rome let me know that you were arriving on this morning’s flight.”

“Probably that security guy who took our passports,” John said.

“Actually, it was the ticket agent,” Lev said. “She e-mailed me your photos last night so I could spot you. Nice shirts. I only wish Father Morelli could have made the trip with you. It’s hard to believe he’s not here with us now.”

Leo was watching the palm trees flash by the windows of the Land Rover. “I have a feeling he is here with us now. Why are we headed toward the coast? I thought we were going to Jerusalem.”

“Actually, I live on the coast, so I’m taking you to my villa on the beach. Father Morelli loved it there. He was able to relax and work uninterrupted on his many projects. The villa is fairly isolated and large enough to accommodate quite a few people; you’ll see. Everyone involved with the Bible code is gathering there today, and a lot of people are looking forward to meeting you. I hope you’re hungry, because my cooks are creating a fantastic lunch in your honor.”

“You have cooks?” John asked. He felt like he hadn’t eaten in days, which was close to the truth. “They must pay professors really well here in Israel.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t really make that much as a college professor, and my books on archaeology are not what you would call material for the masses, so they’re definitely not best sellers. My family was in manufacturing here in Israel and in America. I was an only child, so everything was left to me. I live comfortably, but not extravagantly. I was lucky enough to have a father who appreciated my desire to be a scholar instead of a businessman.”

“I thought your field was mathematics, Professor,” John said.

“Please, call me Lev. I have two PhDs, one in mathematics and the other in archaeology. When I first met Father Morelli on a dig outside Jerusalem years ago, I went back to school to study archaeology. Anthony’s passion for it was infectious. After going on a few excavations with him and digging down through the layers of history, I was hooked. To actually see and touch objects that no one has seen for thousands of years is addicting.”

Leo could already feel himself begin to unwind. “Thanks again for picking us up at the airport, Lev. Let’s just say the past few days in Rome have been somewhat of a challenge.”

“I’ve heard. There are things we will discuss in time. For now, you are safe. You were friends of Father Morelli, and you are now friends of mine. We all have a lot of work ahead of us, Leo, but first, you must relax. I want you both well rested and well fed. We will work later.”

Leo pulled out the small map of Israel he had purchased at the airport gift shop. “Is it far to your house on the coast?”

“We’re almost to Tel Aviv. My house is closer to Caesarea, the old Roman port to the north. It’s about a forty-five-minute drive from the airport if the traffic isn’t too bad.”

Leo remembered that distances in Israel were startlingly small to newcomers. A person had only to travel around the country to see just how tiny it really was. Up front in the Land Rover, Leo and Lev heard the faint sound of snoring coming from the backseat. Looking behind them, they saw that John was sound asleep, his arms wrapped around his backpack.

“Anthony was very fond of that young man,” Lev said. “He will be a great asset to your church someday.”

“He already is. I think John was the closest thing to a son that Anthony ever had.”

“Did you bring the stone brick you found in the ancient chapel?”

“It’s in that backpack John is holding onto so tightly. Anthony said it would be useful.”

“Vital would be a better choice of words, Father. I believe it will assist us in finding something of enormous significance here in Israel.”

“Do you have any hint of what we’re looking for?”

“We’ll be trying to find the answer to that question when the whole team comes together at my house later today. We’re hoping that the stone contains additional information, maybe even some subtle engravings, which will help us discover its true purpose. From what Father Morelli said, I have a feeling that a lot of people would like to get their hands on that brick right now.”

“John and I were chased all over Rome by security men from the Vatican, and Anthony mentioned in his letter that our lives were in danger. As strange as this might sound, he told me in a letter that I’m supposed to find an object that dates back to the time when Lucifer was cast out of heaven… so basically, I have no idea what I’m looking for.”

Lev turned the vehicle to the right as they reached the Mediterranean Sea and headed north along the coastal highway. “You’re not alone in this search, my friend. Whatever it is we’ve been called on to do will be revealed to us soon. I’m sure of it. Do you believe the code in the Bible is the word of God, Leo?”

“Well, I guess I’ve narrowed it down to the simple fact that the Bible was divinely inspired by God, and the code is in the Bible. Using that reasoning as a premise, and considering everything that’s happened over the past few days, I would have to say that I’m becoming convinced that God is using the code to lead us.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that, Father, because you will have to open yourself up to the fact that you are being led in the days ahead. You know, I can’t help but think back to the days of Moses. Do you think it’s possible that God chose something as simple as a burning bush to talk to man thousands of years ago, and is now using a complex code embedded in the Bible to speak to mankind in today’s world?”

“That’s an interesting concept, Professor.” Leo was impressed with the fact that Lev’s analogy simplified things and brought the complexities of the code into a biblical perspective. It was the mark of a very intelligent mind. “Doesn’t the name Lev mean lion in Hebrew?”

“Yes, as does your name, Leo. You’re also a lion.”

Leo sat up in his seat. “I seem to be running into a lot of things with subtle meanings lately. John’s last name is Lowe, another name that means lion.”

“I’m beginning to think that all of God’s lions are gathering here now, Father.” Lev pulled a cigar from his pocket and glanced over at Leo with the realization that an unrevealed plan was coming together and that he had met someone special, a kindred soul in the search for an unknown truth.

The Land Rover continued along the coast road as the men’s discussion revealed that both shared a common bond of scholars who felt a passion for digging down deep and uncovering new realities within their respective fields.

“Have you always lived here, Lev?”

“I grew up on a kibbutz.”

“I’ve always wondered, what exactly is a kibbutz?”

“It’s a communal farm run collectively and dedicated to the principal that intellectual work, production work, and domestic work are all of equal value. I built my house on the coast and the area surrounding it to resemble the kibbutz I was raised on. My mother and father moved to Palestine back in 1946 shortly before I was born. They were French Jews and were part of the French resistance that fought the Nazis in World War II. One of my uncles was killed by the Germans for hiding some American flyers who were shot down close to his farmhouse. When the war was over, my father wanted to leave Europe as quickly as possible. He and my mother traveled through Cyprus and ended up on a boat bound for the Holy Land.”