“That theory has been around for a while,” said Josh. “But it has so many holes in it that it’s hardly worth consideration!”
“Like what?” she asked.
“First of all, the physical trauma Jesus endured,” Josh replied. “He was beaten, scourged, and nailed to a wooden cross, where He hung suspended by the weight of His arms for six hours, slowly pulling His shoulders out of socket and filling His lungs with fluid. And let’s not forget John’s account—he says that when the soldiers came to Jesus’ cross, they didn’t break His legs because He was already dead—but they did skewer Him with a spear! John felt that detail was important enough that he—or maybe the scribe who he was dictating to—immediately afterward added: ‘And he who has seen has born witness, and we know that his witness is true; and he knows that he is telling the truth, that you also might believe.’ Now, suppose, despite all that, that somehow Jesus’ heart was still beating when they took Him down from the cross. Somehow the fact that he was alive had to have escaped their notice, because they immediately took Him, wrapped Him in cloths soaked in aromatic spices, laid Him on a stone slab, and sealed Him in a tomb.” Josh paused a moment. “So tell me, Dr. Sforza—” He raised his eyebrows as he gazed at her. “What happens to someone suffering from severe blood loss, shock, and trauma when you wrap him in damp, wet cloths and lay him on a cold stone slab?”
“I am guessing that he would develop severe hypothermia, slip further into shock and unconsciousness, and die?” she guessed.
“Bingo!” Josh said. “But let’s suppose for a minute that, somehow, Jesus did survive, struggled out of his wrappings, pushed aside the stone, bypassed the guards posted over the tomb, and got away. He would be exhausted, near death, unable to use his hands or feet due to His injuries, and bleeding internally from the spear wound. Even if His disciples found him and somehow nursed Him back to health—well, I think it was C.S. Lewis who said something to the effect that: ‘Could such a pathetic creature, weak, emaciated, and in desperate need of medical attention, be mistaken by anyone for the risen and triumphant Lord of Life?’”
Isabella was a bit overwhelmed by the force of his argument. Her scientific, rational side inherently struggled to reject any notion of a supernatural being breaking into human history. But at the same time, Josh made a compelling argument that such an event had actually happened some two thousand years before! She thought of another line of defense.
“But what if the disciples just made the whole thing up?” she said. “Suppose they really did write the Gospels, but the whole thing was just a fraud that got out of hand?”
“That’s the last line of defense for the skeptic,” Josh said. “And, there is a certain logic to it. But first of all, consider that the Apostles valued truth above all. They praised it and encouraged it among all their followers. They would have to be absolutely amoral to proclaim truthfulness so loudly while knowingly basing their whole new faith on a lie. And think about this—every account we have indicates that all of the early disciples except John were martyred for their faith—and even he was beaten on several occasions, and then exiled to Patmos for years. The apostles willingly went to their deaths proclaiming their faith in the risen Christ and believing He would raise them up again. If there is one thing that history demonstrates, Isabella, it is that men will die for a lie—IF they believe it to be the truth. But who on earth would cheerfully die for a lie, KNOWING that it was a lie?”
“It does seem unlikely,” she said.
“And one more thing,” he said. “Even if the apostles lied, and made up the story of the Resurrection—what about good old Pilate, and the High Priest Caiaphas, and all the others who conspired to put Jesus to death? Don’t you think they would have produced the body to scotch the story of the Resurrection as soon as it was proclaimed?”
“Well, you have made one thing very clear,” said Isabella. “Two, actually.”
“What would those things be?” asked Josh.
“You are certainly convinced by the evidence,” she said. “And, you have done your homework on the subject. Your knowledge and eloquence are most impressive!”
“But you’re not buying it?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
“Let’s just say you have given me some things to think about,” she answered. By now they were at the mountaintop.
Ibrahim al-Ghazi walked over from the tent where the security guards slept. “Dr. Sforza,” he said, “do you mind if I walk into town during my off shift tomorrow?”
“Not at all,” she said. “Is there something you need that one of the team could get for you, or is it something you need to tend to yourself?”
“Well, actually,” the young Arab-Italian said, “I would like to go to mosque. I am not the most observant Muslim in the world, but my mother pesters me if I don’t go at least once a month!”
Sforza laughed. “I think my mother has despaired of ever getting me to Mass again,” she said. “But by all means, go ahead. Just remember, no loose talk about what is going on up here!”
“No worries,” he replied. “I love archeology, and I think that your discoveries here are amazing!” He ambled back to his tent, and Josh and Isabella stepped into the lab and took a long look at the two ancient scrolls sitting in the rehydration tanks.
“We have barely talked about the will of Augustus,” said Isabella.
“You’re right,” Josh said. “But honestly, that’s hardly surprising. After all, we know most of what is in it. Several ancient histories have cited some of its terms. And, to be honest, even if we found that what Suetonius wrote about the will was completely false, it would only be of interest to professional historians. The Pilate scroll, on the other hand, has the potential to affect the lives of billions of people worldwide!”
“Very true,” she said. “But I am tired of talking about dusty old documents. I want to know more about you, Doctor Parker.”
Josh looked at her, surprised. “What would you like to know?” he asked.
“I guess, mainly,” she said with some hesitation—“Why isn’t there a Mrs. Doctor Parker?”
Josh shrugged his shoulders. “I just never met the right person, I guess,” he said. “I dated some in high school, but in college the whole social scene was such a turn-off, and I was so buried in my studies, and then in my work, that I just haven’t really had time to go looking for someone. But, I suppose if someone ever comes knocking, they will find me at home,” he added. That was as close as he would come to admitting he was fascinated with this beautiful Italian scientist.
She looked at him with amusement. “You are charming in the most awkward way!” she laughed. “I am going to commandeer this couch in the lab for my bed, so to avoid gossip; I suggest you take one of the tents for the night.”
He looked at his watch. It was already well past 10 PM, and the ups and downs of the day had left him completely drained. “I am completely worn out,” he said. “I think I will bunk down too.”
She gave him an affectionate hug, and he stepped outside into the cool Mediterranean night. A million stars blazed overhead, and the moon was just cresting the eastern horizon. He walked over to the ancient chamber that had occupied their whole week. With all the artifacts removed, there was no need to cover it at night any more. In the dim light, it seemed somewhat forlorn, bereft of its secrets and desolate. He stepped inside and closed his eyes, trying to imagine the Emperor Tiberius huddled over the small table by the light of an oil lamp, writing letters that dictated the fate of a quarter of the world’s population. Then he went to his tent and went to sleep.
By this time, your Excellency, I was rapidly running out of options. I pulled Jesus back into the Praetorium and looked at him in frustration. Those remarkable eyes stared into mine through the blood, bruises, and grime without a trace of fear, which began to anger me. “Where are you really from?” I demanded. He gave no answer. “Why will you not speak to me?” I shouted. “Don’t you know that I have the authority to crucify yo
u, or to set you free?”
He answered softly, “You would have no authority over me at all except for that which is given you from Heaven,” he said. “You do not understand what you are doing; therefore the ones who delivered me up to you have the greater guilt.”
Caesar, I am not a superstitious man, and I am certainly no coward. But I will tell you in confidence that his words shook me to the core. I felt as if I was the one on trial, and that this strange figure before me had somehow found me wanting. I led him back out before the mob. They were still screaming for the Galilean’s blood.
“Behold, I bring him forth to tell you that I find no guilt in him!” I cried for the last time.
Then the old High Priest, Annas, lifted his voice to be heard. “If you release this man, you are no friend of Caesar! Everyone who proclaims Himself a King is Caesar’s enemy!” The threat was very clear—he would report me to you unless I did his bidding.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Josh slept soundly, without dreams or interruptions, despite the hard ground beneath his sleeping bag. Isabella had a more difficult time getting comfortable on the narrow couch, but finally dozed off after midnight. They both woke up around 6 AM and brewed some coffee after changing clothes and brushing their teeth. The rest of the team arrived around 7 AM, and Isabella talked to them over breakfast.
“The entire Bureau of Antiquities will be arriving around eight thirty AM,” she began. “They will want to tour the site and view the artifacts, and then Dr. Castolfo wants to hold a formal meeting of the board at Giuseppe’s home. Speaking of which, Dr. Rossini, a couple of the board members are not the most ambulatory—Dr. Stefani is eighty-three, and gets around with difficulty, and Cardinal Raphael is the same age, although he is more spry. Do you think that Chief Rosario could have a couple of golf carts brought up to the head of the trail?”
“I will call him right now,” said Giuseppe, stepping out of the trailer.
“Because of the spectacular nature of this find, we should be prepared to face sharp questions, both from the board and later, when we begin to release the news of the discovery to the public. Fortunately, we have recorded every part of the excavation on digital video, and have been meticulous in our documentation. It will be very hard for anyone to claim fraud, no matter what the scrolls actually contain. But I want our presentation to be clear, concise, and professional. Dr. MacDonald, I want you to lay out all the artifacts that can withstand open-air inspection, and have all the items that are still in rehydration tanks in clear view and ready for inspection through the glass. Be honest, professional, and humble—there will be about five hundred years of archeological and historical experience represented by these board members! Now, let us spend the last hour before their arrival getting the lab cleaned up and presentable,” she finished.
In short order, the trash cans were emptied and several chairs were set up. The less fragile artifacts were laid out on trays with small labels describing them, and the items in the rehydration tanks were also labeled. The two scrolls from the locked cabinet were already changing slightly in color as the humidity was restored to them. Even the ancient seals were a richer hue of red than they had been, as the desiccated wax cells began to rehydrate.
They had barely finished cleaning up when the now-familiar sounds of a helicopter began to draw near. The entire team traipsed up the stairs to the large flagstone floor that had become a landing pad for the site. As the chopper settled to earth, ten people emerged one after the other. First on the site was Dr. Sinisi, looking tanned and fit, his legendary smile flashing in the morning sun. Next came the Head of the Antiquities Bureau, Dr. Benito Castolfo. A heavyset and serious individual, he was well connected in the Byzantine world of Italian politics, and was respected by academics both for his credentials as a classical historian and his bulldog-like determination to preserve funding for the preservation of Italy’s rich past, no matter how dire the budget forecasts.
Next came Dr. Guioccini, who smiled at the team and gave Isabella a quick thumbs-up. He then turned to assist the elderly Dr. Marc Stefani, a renowned Biblical archeologist and the oldest member of the Bureau’s governing board. After the old man had gotten his feet under him and taken his place beside the others, Dr. Antonio Neapolitano emerged. He was a prehistoric archeologist who had excavated numerous Stone Age sites in Italy. After him, Cardinal Caesar Raphael emerged. He was the Vatican’s most respected archeologist and acted as a liaison between the worlds of science and faith, and was also Father MacDonald’s supervisor and mentor. He made a deliberate show of helping the next member off the chopper with a courtly old-world flourish. Dr. Maria Tintoretto returned his gesture with a scowl. A respected historian of the first century, she was also a militant atheist and devoted much of her scholarship to questioning almost every aspect of the Church’s early history—a stance that made her a frequent butt of jokes among Italy’s overwhelmingly Catholic population. The fact that the Cardinal inevitably treated her with great courtesy and respect only increased her hostility, since she took it as a deliberate slight. After her came Dr. Luigi Castellani, a military historian and expert in Roman weapons and tactics. He was followed by Ricardo Gandolfo, who was not an academic but a special assistant to Italy’s president in matters related to history and antiquities.
After they were all assembled on the ancient flagstones, Dr. Sforza introduced them to the team.
“Most of you know Dr. Rossini, the discoverer of the chamber,” she said, “and you may be familiar with the work of Simone Apriceno, our paleobotanist. Father MacDonald is a renowned expert in ancient documents, and our American friend Josh Parker is an up and coming expert in first century classical archeology. His work at Ephesus was most impressive, and he comes to us with the strongest of recommendations.”
The board members greeted the team cordially, although Dr. Tintoretto scowled at Father MacDonald. “I don’t see why it is necessary to have a representative of a religious cult as a consultant on a scientific and historical excavation project,” she snorted.
MacDonald gave her his best smile. “My clerical collar notwithstanding, dear lady, I will stack my professional credentials and qualifications up against any university archeologist you can find! Not to mention that, when the things we find have a strong bearing on the beliefs of one billion people, it only makes sense to have someone who understands those beliefs as witness to the discovery.”
Cardinal Raphael nodded appreciatively, but Tintoretto simply glared and moved on. Isabella led them down to the level where the mobile lab was, and walked them over to the chamber first. “Every scrap of evidence we have found so far indicates that this chamber has been sealed up tight since 37 AD,” she said. “The lack of moisture and heavy accumulation of stone dust covered and preserved all the artifacts inside remarkably well. Here next to the entrance we found a Roman era curule chair and a small writing table. On top of the table, covered by stone dust, we found an inkwell, a signet ring bearing the name and seal of Tiberius Caesar, an ancient quill pen, and most remarkably, a letter written by Tiberius himself to his steward, directing that the chamber and its contents be sealed up after he departed for Rome. In the niche above the door, we found an ancient bronze oil lamp, with a fair sample of congealed oil still preserved in its reservoir. The writing table also had a small drawer concealed beneath it. Inside we found some blank papyrus sheets and a leather coin purse which held an ivory horse head effigy key, a metal arrowhead, and some coins, all dating to the Tiberian era or earlier.”
The board members were crowding into the ancient chamber, studying its walls and pointing at the ancient graffiti that still adorned them. Isabella let them continue for a moment, and then went on. “At the rear of the room was a reliquary about one point four meters tall and wide, and about point three meters deep. The exterior doors were unlocked. Leaning against the reliquary, still in its scabbard, was a perfectly preserved Roman gladius that, judging from the inscription on the scabbard, once belonged to Julius Ca
esar. Opening the reliquary, we were disappointed to find that rats had gotten into the cabinet in ancient times and destroyed most of the documents inside. However, having removed all the fragments, we believe it should be possible to reassemble most of the documents in time. We also found a beautiful cameo portrait—white marble on black obsidian—that apparently depicts Tiberius’ first wife, Vipsania, as well as fragmentary remains of several garments.”
“Interesting summary, Dr. Sforza,” said Dr. Castolfo, “but now get to the reason we are all gathered here!”
She nodded. “There was a locked compartment inside the reliquary which we were able to open with the ancient key we found. Inside the compartment were two perfectly preserved scrolls. Each was still sealed with the signet of the Emperor Tiberius, but a short title had been inscribed on the outside of each scroll. One was labeled as the last will and testament of Caesar Augustus.” There were some murmurs at that—apparently not all the board members were aware of what had been found inside the chamber. She paused until the board was focused on her again, and continued. “The last item was simply labeled as ‘The Testimony of Pontius Pilate, Governor of Judea.’”
“Remarkable!” said Cardinal Raphael.
“An amazing discovery!” said Sinisi, beaming.
“Has either of the scrolls been opened?” asked Tintoretto.
“No,” said Isabella. “They are both in rehydration tanks currently. Father MacDonald will supervise their unrolling when they are stable enough to be opened without damage.”
“Are you sure you can trust his objectivity?” she asked.
“Doctor, this is outrageous!” snapped Cardinal Raphael. “Duncan MacDonald’s professionalism is without reproach!”
“But will it remain so if something in that scroll contradicts the Christ myth that you people have used to hold back human progress for two thousand years?” she inquired venomously.
The president of the Antiquities Bureau cut in sharply. “Doctor, your hostility to the Church is well known, but your comments are unprofessional and frankly offensive. We are all scientists here!”
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