John Lyman - The Secret Chapel

Leo stopped next to a row of merlot grapes and turned toward Lev. “Did you recognize the writing in the book?”

“Daniel seems to think it’s a form of cuneiform writing. It resembles some Mesopotamian script found on ancient tablets near Babylon.”

“Has he been able to decipher any of it?”

“Not yet. There’s nothing to compare it with. There’s no telling how old it is or when it was written.”

“What’s your gut feeling then?”

“I’ve been thinking about that all morning. I mean, there’s no telling what’s inside that damned thing. Maybe it’s an antithesis of our own Bible, with its own version of the history of creation and an entirely different set of commandments. I can tell you one thing, though … that book was written with a definite purpose in mind, and I doubt it’s a love letter for humanity.”

Leo held a rosary in his hand as the two men turned down a path leading between two rows of grapevines. “You know, Lev, many people throughout history have also used God’s book as an excuse to do some pretty evil things, but you’re right; those are the kinds of questions we need to explore if we want to find out why we were sent to find a book inspired by Satan at this point in history. I keep thinking of Morelli’s analogy of the Bible being infused with a series of time locks, so I’m guessing the answers will come when God wants us to have them.”

Leo continued to wonder if the Devil’s Bible identified its followers with stories of their own ancestors. In other words, did Satan have his own version of an iniquitous opposite to Abraham? Did he send a figure into the world to spawn a legacy of evil among man? Could this explain the age-old question of why there were both good and evil people in the world? The Cain and Able dichotomy.

Leo watched the young sentries who voluntarily patrolled the fields without complaint. They were the continuation of a long legacy of good versus evil as they struggled to defend their families and friends against terrorist attacks.

As the two men walked along manicured paths, Lev pointed out the individual family houses scattered over the park-like setting of the compound’s two hundred acres. After Lev converted to Christianity, he and his wife had started this community together in an effort to provide a kibbutz-like atmosphere for Christians in Israel. His late wife had been passionate about the land and was instrumental in the farm’s design. Her handprints were on everything, from the decision on where the vineyards and vegetable gardens would be planted, to planning and supervising the construction of the villa and all the houses on the farm.

As Leo took in the beauty of the grounds, he thought of the courage it took for Lev and his wife to create such a place. “What do your Jewish friends and neighbors think of a Christian kibbutz in their midst?”

“They don’t have a problem with it. We’re all still Israeli citizens and are bound together in our fight to protect Israel and our homes at any cost. I respect and support my Jewish brothers and sisters, and they do the same for me. My family was a little concerned when I converted, but since they weren’t strict Orthodox Jews, it wasn’t such a big deal. Again, we believe the issue of religious moderation is central to tolerance of other religions and everyone getting along.”

Lev pulled a cigar from his shirt pocket and lit it with a match. “Every year, as a group, we attend several celebrations around the country at various Jewish communities, and we’ve always been welcomed. There are several Jewish families living right here on the compound; they have their own synagogue next to our chapel. That’s why you see both a Christian cross and the Star of David over the gate in front of the villa. I would like to think that someday we will see a mosque here, but from a security standpoint, that’s impossible right now. I have a lot of Muslim friends, and they agree that the radical elements within Islam are tearing down their own houses with mindless violence. It seems we all still have a lot of work to do.”

As the two men turned to walk back to the villa, enjoying the sunshine and taking in the fresh sea air, Leo found that the mysterious book they had discovered in the desert continued to dominate his thoughts. He wondered if the book had been in the world all this time, waiting to herald the arrival of the evil one so that his followers could dispense his message of hate and destruction throughout the world. If that were true, it could very well be the key to Armageddon and the Antichrist’s rise to power someday. Until the book was translated, Leo knew the answer to these questions could only be imagined, like distant objects seen through the fog.

Lev stopped along the path and snapped a small bunch of grapes off a gnarled vine. “You know, Leo, it wasn’t until I converted to Christianity that I learned that Jews and Christians think of the devil in different ways.”

Leo smiled the knowing smile of a Jesuit theologian who had pondered this subject for hours on end. “I know, it’s strange, when I was still in seminary, we learned that the Jewish view of Satan differed quite a bit from the Christian version. In Judaism, the word Satan means challenger or accuser. He is believed to have the evil purpose of searching out men’s iniquity, an accuser who appears to wander the earth functioning like some kind of celestial prosecutor. In the Book of Wisdom, the devil is represented as the being who brought death into the world.”

“That’s a very good way of putting it, Father. In my Christian education, I was taught that the devil was the malevolent force behind the engine that drove the evil covering the globe. Once among the highest of God’s angels and known as the brightest in the sky , he rebelled against God and was cast down from heaven, where he waged war against those who obeyed God’s commandments and who believed in the testimony of Jesus. Lucifer is now the ruler of the demons, entrenched among us with frightening anger where he sows hate and sorrow in men’s hearts. I think these differing views between the two religions have caused Christians to be much more fearful of the evil one’s presence.”

Both men looked at each other with the realization that what they had seen in the desert the night before had proven beyond any doubt that their fear was justified.

The warm night water of the Gulf of Mexico flowed past the beaches of Texas. The nutrient-rich brew of plankton in the water supported the famous gulf shrimp that swam in its current and grew to enormous size. From time to time, the Mexican shrimp fleet plied these same seas along with the local boats from Texas and Louisiana. The radios in the wheelhouses crackled with a mixture of English, Cajun, and Spanish, giving rise to competition among the multicultural fleet that passed back and forth over the continental shelf, dragging their nets along the smooth white bottom in the search for seafood gold.

In the early morning hours, one of the aged and brightly painted Mexican boats passed close to the coast, drawing little attention as it blended in with the lights of the fleet. There was, however, a noticeable difference between this crew and the others. For some reason, they seemed more interested in the comings and goings at the entrance to the Houston ship channel inside Galveston Bay than they did in catching shrimp.

Time and fuel meant less profit in this struggling industry, but instead of passing over the shallow Gulf bottom, scooping up shrimp, the boat’s long black nets remained dry and coiled up on the deck. Maybe the crew was wary of past run-ins with Texas shrimpers, or maybe they were just looking for a place where they could dock and buy supplies. Whatever the reason, it was apparent they had made a decision as they turned north and headed straight up the ship channel.