“The door … the same place … machinery, tools, papers …”
“… and shelves and tables again?”
“Yes. And the fear—always the fear. The scream of a woman … darkness … the smell of blood …”
“But something else …”
“Voices, other voices, mingling together … I hear but cannot understand.”
“What else?”
He paused and looked up at her. She could tell he didn’t want to say more. She waited. He closed his eyes.
“Death,” he whispered. “Death is in the room, but it is not alone.… I am not alone …”
“Are you afraid?”
“I am not afraid to die,” he said, looking up at the ceiling. “Death is there, but the Spirit is present, as always.” He turned his head to her and smiled, his eyes moistening with tears. “He is there … and that is enough.”
67
It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data.
—Sherlock Holmes in A Study in Scarlet by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
“Oh …” Melissa moaned, eyes closed, stretched out on the couch. “That’s amazing. You wouldn’t believe how good that feels.”
“You got that right,” Brian replied, looking at Melissa’s pleased expression as he massaged her bare feet. “I don’t know how you can stand this.”
Her lip turned mischievously. “Ticklish?”
“Extremely.”
“Good to know.”
“You’ve been warned,” Brian replied, almost smiling.
“Whatever. Now pamper me a little,” she sighed, knowing he was looking. “It helps relieve the tension.”
Brian tried to relax as he gently proceeded. It was almost midnight, but the Pit was bustling. Normally everyone would be preparing for bed, but not tonight. Ward, Neff, and Nili were due back in less than an hour with Cal. Even though they’d retrieved him without incident, the Colonel’s malevolent unpredictability had everyone on edge. The tension was heightened a bit by Neff’s cryptic comment that Cal seemed disturbed and refused to share details of the experience until his arrival. By all accounts, Cal was a sturdy, capable soul who was accustomed to risk and danger, so this unexpected bit of news had proven disconcerting.
Brian looked out into the living space from the couch where they were seated. Kamran and Malcolm were playing video games to distract themselves. Fern and Malone worked on a puzzle. Sabi was playing a game of chess with Summit, Squish nestled comfortably on her lap. Brian watched her move one of Sabi’s pieces for him. He laughed to himself, recalling Sabi’s warning about playing her. No one could beat the girl since she’d started memorizing chess manuals. She had, of course, insisted it wasn’t cheating.
Clarise and Madison were at opposite ends of another couch with books in their laps, though they were talking rather than reading. Madison had been terribly stressed, despite the clear checkpoint reports they’d received from Cal, precisely as expected. The route was a familiar one. He’d used it many times to get others to safety. Nili had designed it herself and had trained him on how to detect being followed—something for which the Mossad had earned a special reputation.
Brian saw Malcolm get up from his chair and head their way. Despite the latest panic, Malcolm had seemed to regain his equilibrium. Brian was struggling to retain his own.
“Dude,” Malcolm said with a smile, “you should try that one.”
Brian shrugged.
“He’s hard at work, Malcolm,” Melissa replied, eyes still closed.
“I can see that.”
“He won’t be excused for any reason.” She sighed contentedly to reinforce the point.
“Doesn’t look like a matter for God and country.”
“It’s close enough—and I know why you’re here.”
“Let’s hear it.” He flashed a toothy grin and sat down on the floor, legs crossed in front of him.
“You want to know what he’s come up with.”
“I do,” he acknowledged, “but I’m more interested in continuing this morning’s conversation.”
“I don’t think it’s a good time,” Brian responded.
“I listened to you, now it’s your turn. You can’t blame yourself about what you said to the Colonel.”
“You mean what I didn’t say.”
“You know what I mean.”
“If my head had been clearer, I’d have said something about returning Dee when I threatened him. I didn’t. It’s an opportunity lost.”
“Brian,” Melissa said, opening her eyes. She propped herself up on an elbow and reached for his hand. He hesitated but took it. “There’s no way you could have been ready,” she said softly and released his hand. “It was totally out of the blue.”
“And you don’t know that it would have mattered,” Malcolm added. “He could have said yes and laid a trap for you, or Melissa … or all of us.”
“It was our best chance. We have no leverage now.”
“We still have the recording,” Malcolm reminded him.
“And no idea if we can contact him. Who knows if the method we used earlier is any good now. He didn’t even try to trace us then; he’d surely do it now. For once we had the upper hand, and I blew it.”
“That opportunity came out of nowhere, so another one can, too.”
“I guess,” Brian surrendered. “Let’s change the subject.”
“Fine with me,” Malcolm agreed.
“I’d rather he get back to work on me,” Melissa said, reclining again.
“Are you telling me your man can’t talk and do that at the same time?”
Melissa started to say something and then stopped.
“Trapped?”
Brian smiled and shook his head.
Melissa opened one eye in his direction. “Make me proud.”
“Fire away, Malcolm.”
“Sweet,” he replied, then looked at Brian thoughtfully. “I listened to the Colonel’s lecture again today. I’m just curious about what you believe on a few things. He hit you a couple times with the fact that you don’t buy popular end-times thinking. I’m sure you know that Catholic theology’s pretty tame there. We’d say the kingdom began when Jesus came the first time, and when He comes again that’s the end of earthly history. I’m wondering where you’re at.”
“I agree with you on the beginning of the kingdom—that’s pretty obvious from what Jesus says in the Gospels about the kingdom being present or at hand, and the way Paul talks about the kingdom. My divine-council theology leads me to expect that human history doesn’t end with the second coming, though. I think the final kingdom and eternal state are really one, and it will take place on the new earth, the new Eden. As far as the idea of a rapture, I won’t say it’s impossible, but it’s really unlikely.”
“I was taught all that stuff as a girl,” Melissa interjected, eyes still closed. “I think it’s nonsense, but why don’t you buy it?”
Brian glanced at Malcolm mischievously. “A third party might throw off my rhythm. Maybe you should just listen.”
“Oh, be quiet.” Her eyes flickered open. She grabbed a pillow on the floor next to the couch and threw it at him. He deflected it with a laugh. “Answer the question.”
“I’m bothered by the assumptions that underlie the whole idea,” he said, turning to Malcolm. “The belief in a rapture is an interpretive choice that depends on other interpretive choices. There’s nothing transparently evident about it in the text at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“What would you say to someone who told you the Gospels were full of errors because they reported events and conversations differently?”
“I’d tell them they were different ways of talking about the same event, like in newspapers. The stories in two papers are never the same, but that doesn’t mean any of the writers were wrong. They’re just selective, and every writer has an angle or agenda. We need to put all the material together for a fuller picture.”
“I’d say the same thing.
The most logical approach is to harmonize accounts or blend them together. The problem is that the belief in a rapture depends upon the reader’s decision to resist doing that.”
“You lost me,” said Melissa.
“A rapture only comes into view in the New Testament when people put passages about the return of Jesus into two piles. The rapture depends on separating passages that, for example, have Jesus touching the ground when He returns, from others that don’t—maybe that have Him appearing in the air. The result is two separate, distinct events—one being the rapture, the other being the second coming. But if you harmonize all that’s said about the return of Jesus, the rapture disappears—you only have one event, the second coming.”
“So the problem is whether to be a splitter or a joiner?” Malcolm asked.
“Yep. Christians who believe in a rapture seem to harmonize passages on every other issue to protect the Bible from contradiction. But when it comes to end-times prophecy, they’re splitters so they can get a rapture. It’s an intentional method, not something that derives just from looking at the Bible.”
“I see your point,” Malcolm acknowledged. “But I don’t think that invalidates Andrew’s ideas about new Nephilim being part of the end times. He was convinced Matthew 24 pointed that direction.”
“I think Andrew’s idea is wrong for other reasons.”
“Such as?”
“The whole notion rests on one phrase in Mathew 24:37—that the Lord’s return will happen in circumstances ‘as in the days of Noah.’ ”
“Genesis 6.”
“Does that put everything in Genesis 6 into Matthew 24?”
“Maybe.”
“That assumption has real problems. There are no Nephilim in Matthew 24. No UFOs either. Has anyone in the history of Christianity ever seen Nephilim or spaceships in Matthew 24?”
“Since when have you ever cared about being in the mainstream of Christian tradition?” Malcolm jabbed good-naturedly.
“You’re right, I don’t care much. I care more about interpretations that violate the biblical writers’ original context. The point of the reference to Noah in Matthew 24 is that, just like people were caught by surprise by the flood, so people will be caught off guard by the return of the Lord. The passage refers to normal human beings, not the sons of God or Nephilim.”
“What about the ‘marrying and giving in marriage’ wording? If you take a sexual view of Genesis 6, that seems to fit.”
“Actually, it doesn’t. Grammatically, the subjects of those verbs and others in the passage are people—men and women—not divine beings. The illustrations offered in verses 40–41 to explain the previous verses are explicitly said to be men and women—people. There’s no exegetical warrant for saying the those ‘marrying and giving in marriage’ in verse 38 involve divine beings like in Genesis 6, but then arguing that the subjects change to normal people in the second half of verse 38 on through verse 41. People just make it read that way. They bring the idea to the text, as opposed to getting it from the text.”
“You heard what the Colonel told him,” Melissa said with a yawn, shifting her position a bit. “With Brian, it’s always about the text.”
“I don’t know if this fits Andrew,” Brian went on, “but some of the people who argue his viewpoint love to use 1 Enoch to defend a literal view of Genesis 6 and then conveniently forget some of the details that don’t support how they view Matthew 24. In 1 Enoch—at least the Greek version—the Watchers descend in the days of Yarad, which was generations before the days of Noah’s flood. It also has each Watcher taking only one woman, so the ‘marrying and giving in marriage’ would have been over and done with long before the flood—but people, of course, would have been doing that the whole time.”
“What about Daniel 2:43?”
“The problems are just as obvious there.”
“What does Daniel 2:43 say?” Melissa wondered out loud. “And answer without gesturing,” she laughed quietly. “You’re losing focus.”
“Demanding, aren’t we?” Malcolm grinned.
“I’m pregnant.”
“When did that become a power play?”
“About two days ago,” Brian answered, gently squeezing her feet. “Works pretty well, actually. Being beautiful helps, too.”
Malcolm shook his head.
“Anyway, Daniel 2:43 is the other passage used to defend Nephilim being part of end times,” Brian explained. “The chapter is Daniel’s explanation of Nebuchadnezzar’s vision of the tall statue, where parts of the statue’s body are made of different metals. Verse 43 talks about the toes of the statue—the fourth kingdom—being made of both iron and clay. The whole point is that the rulership of the fourth kingdom is mixed. Verse 41 makes that clear—it describes the fourth kingdom as divided. And the language of verse 43 tells us why it’s divided: mixed marriages, which historically lead to dynastic struggle and competition for power.”
“But,” Malcolm objected, “literally it says that ‘they will mingle themselves with the seed of humankind.’ That sounds like part of the mingling isn’t human.”
“If you bring that idea with you, it does. But what indication is there that Daniel was thinking about Genesis 6? And if you throw in the modern Nephilim ideas you read on the Internet about aliens—or demons posing as aliens—suddenly becoming experts at genetic engineering, the question is more telling: Why would Daniel be thinking about modern science? Daniel didn’t even know what germs or molecules are. Those ideas are right out of the ancient-astronaut myths.”
Malcolm shrugged. “I’m just saying.”
“The real problem is what the second half of the verse says—again, very explicitly.”
“What’s that?”
“It says the mingling doesn’t work—that it won’t hold together. Verse 42 talks about a kingdom that is partly strong and partly brittle—the mingling has a deteriorative effect. So anyone who takes the verse to describe a divine-human sexual mingling also has to admit it doesn’t work, which sort of defeats the whole premise. How do you get an end-times rise of Nephilim if the mingling doesn’t work?”
“When you put it that way, it does sound awfully suspect,” conceded Malcolm.
“The fourth kingdom is most likely Rome, since it’s pretty easy to argue that the kingdom began during the time of Jesus. Some argue it refers to the Jewish rebellion under the Maccabees that arose in the times of the Ptolemies and Seleucids, which was definitely a mixed kingdom, both racially and in terms of competing dynasties. But Rome had plenty of that sort of thing, too. To me, what it comes down to is this: You either base your theology on what’s present in the text or what’s not in the text. The latter might be good for imagination, but it’s not anything you could call biblical theology. By definition, a biblical theology must be tied to the text. A biblical theology can’t be based on what’s not in the Bible; it can only be based on what is.”
“I understand what you’re saying,” Malcolm said, becoming serious. “Without anchors in the text, people can go astray. But they also go astray when they filter the Bible through whatever grid guides their thinking—like what you’ve been working on the last few days, all that Aryan Jesus Minoan migration wackiness.”
“Don’t I know it,” Brian said glumly. “For the past few days I’ve been trying to look at Scripture in a new way—bringing an agenda to it.”
“You know how the Colonel’s gonna bring the threads together, don’t you?”
Brian looked at him uneasily. “I sure hope not.”
68
The Amorites founded Jerusalem. They formed the Nordic stratum in later Galilee; that is, in the ‘pagan region’ whence someday Jesus was to come.
—Alfred Rosenberg
“You might as well get into it,” Melissa replied, rising slowly from the couch, her hand on Brian’s shoulder to steady herself. “I’m going to get some coffee. You want anything?” she asked Brian.
“The usual,” he replied. “Thanks.”
<
br /> “It’s the least I can do.” She bent over and kissed him lightly. “Coffee, Malcolm?”
“I’m good.”
Brian watched Melissa navigate her way toward the kitchen. “Man,” he heard Malcolm sigh.
“What?”
“You two. I don’t want to hear another pessimistic word from you. God can make amazing things happen.”
“I know. That’s a thought we’ll all need to hold.”
Malcolm could see his mood had darkened again. He waited for more.
Brian got on track. “It’s a disturbing exercise to play evil genius with the Bible, especially when you realize you can make terribly misleading ideas seem so coherent—all to manipulate people.”
“You’re onto him, and it’s creepin’ you out, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. To be honest, it’s scary. It’s painfully easy to lead people astray and sound informed while you’re doing it. All it requires is a command of the data you want to distort and no conscience.”
“And an uninformed target audience,” Malcolm added.
“True. Unfortunately, those aren’t hard to find.”
“So you think you know the angle the Colonel’s going to play … how he’s gonna marry Genesis 6 to all the occult bunk to set up his target.”
“I don’t know if it’s exactly what he’s planning, but it certainly could be. Let’s put it this way: I don’t know what he’s going to build, but I know the tools that he’d have at his disposal. If I can tie the threads together, so can he.”
“Lay it on me. Give me the short version.”
Brian took a deep breath. “You’ve already heard me say something about how the Philistines, the people of Goliath and his brothers, are associated with Caphtor in the Bible.”
“Which is Crete. Yeah.”
“Jeremiah 47:4 and Amos 9:7 make the connection certain. From that point, it’s probably easiest to look at the Anakim in the Bible.”
“They’re the giants that are linked back to the Nephilim in Numbers 13:33.”
“Right. You run into them in the books of Deuteronomy and Joshua, too. They’re specifically referred to as ‘great’ and ‘tall,’ so there’s no ambiguity about their appearance. Joshua 11 has them living in a couple of places that are important for us—Gath, Gaza, and Ashdod. Ring any bells?”
The Portent Page 44