The Lost City

by Carrie E. Gruhn

  “He did come for His Church, made up of believing Jews and Gentiles, they who vanished and left no trace behind. Their going was to be the sign for things to follow—the rise of a man who could be no other than Damon—another, the rebuilded temple and the promise of a new covenant—another, the desecration, the Beast and the mark in order to buy and to sell—another, terrible earthquakes, storms, new wars and upheavals in nature like none that the earth has ever seen.

  “I have not been where I could hear reports; yet we saw and felt the power of storm and earthquake which left marks on mountains that have lain unmoved for centuries—yes, ever since man began to climb and habitate them! I think that there must have been terrific storms in other places. God will shake the very earth in final effort to drive men to their knees before His power—He gave the world love and the Way—He still will not withhold His love and mercy from any who will call on His name. When the voices of those calling on Messiah rise loudly and sincerely, He will answer, yes come to banish the Prince and all his unholy followers. When Christ shall sit on His throne to rule then we shall become the nation promised to Abraham.

  “But how hardly will many hearts be turned to calling on Him! How great tribulation will be unloosed or has already been unloosed before fainting men will let go their pride and selfish wills to give themselves to God! How we hold to our blindness, refusing to see the hands with their nailprints stretched out to us, the back scourged for our iniquity, the side pierced by the sword to show a heart broken, the brow crowned with thorns where a crown of glory will be seen one day.”

  It was very still in the great hall for now the mountain-thick ceilings and walls closed us in, prisoners of the thoughts with which Paul had encircled us. I looked around at the faces dimly lighted by lanterns and battery lights. Did I see a glimmering in one or another? Oh, surely Paul’s eloquence must reach some heart!

  Paul searched their faces but no one answered, yet he must not have been wholly discouraged. A great compassion seemed to flood his face and gently he closed the black Book and returned to the question he had asked first.

  “Can you give me more news?”

  “There’s plenty going on out there besides destroying good food. There have been storms, hail, lightning, and twisting winds that have shredded fields and trees and leveled houses thus adding fire to other calamities. The radio reported an earthquake had wiped out one of the big islands in the Mediterranean. There’s no doubt about it, Doctor, the elements seem to have joined forces with the Prince. Why, if storms like those continue there won’t be enough food to feed half the world even after they take on the mark!”

  Damon might seem to have called on countless legions of the air for his campaign, but above and beyond was Jehovah. If the prophets and writers of that black Book had told the truth, then let us turn our hearts to God. He would come down with His angels to stamp out this evil that had come upon the world. But first there must be repentance, humility, and acceptance of the One who had been rejected!

  “This prince seems to me to have more than natural powers,” spoke one thoughtfully. “I never believed in God—I came to Palestine not because I believed a folk tale about it being promised to us by a Supernatural Being—I came because I thought it looked like a good profitable field for new endless enterprise. I turned my back on my father’s God as soon as I could. I even changed my name because of its Jewish sound. But—without God I now see no hope. Yet, how can I ask Him to give me forgiveness now? I would not ask Him when I was prospering, nor when things had at least a semblance of a chance of coming out right—I have no right to come to Him, now!” There was anguish in the voice of this first man whose eyes began to look up toward the Messiah, the Saviour!

  There were others who bowed in tears and fear. A broken-hearted woman sobbed out her story of a husband who had disappeared. She told how she had called in friends and relatives to hold a funeral for the husband she thought had died because he had left his father’s God to follow Jesus. Now, she, too, was afraid lest He would not accept her. There was the old rabbi who had held fast to the orthodox ritual and beliefs—miraculously the scales seemed to fall from his eyes. Shaken, perhaps the most humble, and the most joyous, he cried out to the Messiah begging forgiveness. Others, too, asked for part in the simple but heart-felt prayer that Paul suddenly raised up to God and to the Messiah. Tears of joy mingled with the tears of repentance and abjection; together they flowed from eyes from which the blindness was departing.

  “Great is our God! He is indeed the Rock—the Stone which the builders refused—” The Rabbi looked up, yet he was not looking at the mountain of rock that was at once our ceiling and our sheltering place.

  “You have spoken well,” answered Paul, “He is indeed the Rock ‘cut out without hands.’ He shall smite the image upon his feet of iron and of clay and break them to pieces—and the stone that smites shall become a great mountain and fill the whole earth.” Then softly Paul continued, as their minds swiftly picked up the words of Moses so that they spoke as with one accord:

  “And it shall come to pass, while my glory passeth by, that I will put thee in a cleft of the rock, and will cover thee with my hand while I pass by!”

  21

  A NEW SONG

  PAUL DID NOT LEAVE our city of refuge immediately. There were matters of importance to keep him with me a little longer. He had organized the base well and had placed its ordering in capable hands, but now that it had become a fact, instead of a possibility, there were some new things to be considered. It would be very difficult to refuse anyone the shelter and the protection of this valley, yet it would be dangerous indeed to let enemies come inside.

  “I should think that would be easy, Paul,” I suggested in colossal ignorance. “Those coming with the right to enter won’t be wearing the mark—even the most stupid would not let anyone in who was wearing it!”

  “Partly right, my Tanya, but did it ever enter that sweet head of yours to guess that Damon knows that? Naturally he wouldn’t expect a secret agent to get very far if he branded him with a mark that would show to his enemies. The mark is put on for the purpose of buying and selling. It may not be visible always.”

  “Maybe invisible ink?”

  “Some substance that will show us under certain lights or rays. Anyway, we’ve got to be doubly careful of those we let in.”

  “Well, there’s another way, maybe.” I was determined to be helpful to Paul. “Surely anyone who comes in Jesus’ name will be all right.”

  “Probably—as far as it goes. Many Jews may come without having accepted the Lord Jesus as Saviour and Messiah. Would you have us turn them away before we show them their King?”

  “Oh no!” I was silenced.

  We were sitting in a great amphitheater looking out across a natural stage-setting. I watched as the Rabbi picked his way through the rock seats to take his stand beside Paul. He did not seem quite so old as I had first thought, or was it because his eyes seemed to be filled now with a vision, his head held high as if to catch every bit of its brightness?

  “Paul, I want to go out there when you go.” He nodded back toward the defile.

  “I thought you might, Rabbi. But I think it would be better if you stay here. I do not wish to sound as if I thought I knew more than you do, but I do think it would be easier for me to stay out of sight because I have spent the last few years slipping in and out under cover. We could use your wisdom and your understanding to reach many who may not listen to me. There will be many coming here who will need that wisdom. Look at the church ready-made.” And so saying Paul waved his hand pointing at the row on row of seats. The Rabbi followed the gesture and smiled.

  Paul had risen out of deference to the older man and as he did so I marveled at how alike they seemed to be in many respects. Paul, with his dark beard and flowing Arabian burnoose, which he still wore for the sake of expediency and the Rabbi with grey beard and flowing robes of the church. The past and the present seemed to be flowing tog
ether; time was becoming meaningless in the midst of God’s eternity.

  “It is a good temple, my son, and one which has stood the test of time. But there are other reasons why I thought to go with you. I know so little, although I have read and learned the old prophets, but even they have hidden a mystery from my eyes. I see it unfolding but I would like to have keys to their treasure, and you seem to have some of them in that little black Book. It was partly selfishness that made me want to go and a fear lest I not be able to give to others the vision I have been given to see.”

  “I hoped you would say that,” Paul said quietly and I rose quickly before he turned to go, for my mind flew to the box of Bibles behind our quarters. “I won’t give you my Book but if you will come with me I will give you one that will serve you better than mine.”

  “You seem to have thought of everything.” The Rabbi fell into step beside us.

  “No, there have been many whose thoughts were directed to us. One Christian a long time ago had several boxes of precious Bibles written in our tongue and hidden here. I found them when first I came and they were one more link in the chain that was drawing me to Jesus. I think you could use one.”

  “You are a fraud, Paul! Holding out on me when you have seen my covetous eyes on your Book!” The Rabbi’s eyes twinkled and I was glad that he would remain for he would guide us with love and kindness and patience, too.

  I stopped to make my mother more comfortable. I was singing softly although unconsciously. It seemed easy to sing since I had found my King and my Saviour.

  “I like to hear you sing, Mommy.” My son came suddenly in behind me to hug my knees.

  “I’m glad that I know how to sing, my son.” I caught him up into my arms, to kiss his rosy face. “When I was a little girl I used to like to hear my mother sing.”

  “Who’s your mother, Mommy?”

  “Why your grandmother was my mother, dear. We must try to give her back her song, shall we?”

  Toni’s lips puckered thoughtfully. He looked down at Mother’s quiet face then up again into mine,

  “Is she dead, Mommy?”

  For just a minute I was too shocked to answer, then realizing how innocently the question had been asked I answered slowly, “No, Toni, she isn’t dead but very, very sick. She has gone to sleep inside her body-house. If we can make her hear us, maybe we can make her want to wake up. She used to sing because she loved God and knew He would take care of her. She was right, God did love her and always will. He is our heavenly Father you know, just the way Daddy is your earthly father. Sometimes when Daddy scolds or punishes you, you think he doesn’t love you, but if he didn’t love you he would just let you go and maybe get hurt. God has to punish us sometimes, too. Sometimes we get stubborn and run away and just keep right on being naughty—”

  “Like I did when Daddy told me to wash my face and keep my fingers out of the bread?”

  “That’s right. You were being very naughty to spoil the bread and then run away. When you came back the bread was gone because we had already eaten and so you went without your dinner. If you had washed your face right away and kept your fingers out of the bread, you would have had dinner instead of that hurt gnawing in your tummy. Its bigger things God tries to show us, but sometimes we’d rather go hungry and spoil the bread God wants to give to us so when He punishes we think that He does not love us. He loved us so much that He gave His only Son—”

  “Like me, Mommy?”

  “Yes, dear, like you. God had only one Son but He loved us so much that He gave His son to us. God has a beautiful place prepared for us and he wants us all to come and live with Him—”

  “Daddy said this was God’s city—”

  “And a beautiful city it is, but this place is very poor beside the place God wants us to have. But in His house there can be no naughtiness at all.”

  “Then I couldn’t go to His house, could I, Mommy?” His lips quivered with disappointment.

  “That’s the part of the story I want you to remember—God loves us. He sent His Son to take away our naughtiness so we can enter into His house. We leave our house here and go into His. If not, we must go into a terrible place where all is punishment and unhappiness—”

  “Like when we were trying to get here, Mommy?”

  “Like that, only much, much worse, little Toni. Everyone who won’t listen to God runs away from Him and then God can’t let them come into His house. They have to have the naughtiness taken away.”

  “Sometimes I can’t help being naughty, Mommy.”

  “But you can if you listen to your Daddy, can’t you? You could have washed your face, couldn’t you?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t want to.”

  “People say that to God, too, my son, then they get into trouble and into the wrong house. Jesus, God’s Son, wants to wash everyone white and clean so he can come into God’s house. The naughtiness that keeps us out of God’s house is inside in the heart and so it has to be made clean. Jesus died on the cross and gave His blood to wash our hearts clean. If we lay all our naughtiness at Jesus’ feet then He will take our hearts and make them clean so that we can enter into His house and be with Him forever!”

  “And we won’t have to go out into that awful place again?”

  “And we won’t have to go out into that awful place ever again!”

  “I like Jesus, Mommy. I like this place. Will I like His other house?”

  “You will like it much, much better.”

  “Doesn’t Grandma like this place, Mommy?”

  “She doesn’t know that she came here, Toni. We will have to keep singing and being so happy that she will want to wake up, then we will tell her about Jesus, shall we?”

  “And His washing our hearts? Can I tell her, Mommy?”

  “Of course, dear. Now I must wash her face and give her some lunch so she will be strong enough to listen when she wakes up. You may run out and play.”

  The Rabbi and Paul were standing at the heavy door looking out at the children playing on the slope outside. There were smiles peeking through those beards. I stopped to watch, too.

  “I do not think I will be needed here, my daughter. It seems your son is taking my place.” The Rabbi nodded toward the children.

  They were grouped around the chattering boy who held their interest with his story and with the gestures he was using to emphasize it.

  “What is he telling them this time?” I asked, recalling some of the imaginative flights he had been known to take.

  “He is telling them the story of Jesus and much better than I could.”

  I was singing again as I carried the basin of water to my mother. Toni had been so in earnest and his eyes had been so shiny with the wonder of this new story! I could not help letting my happiness flow out in song. I saw my mother’s eyes and lo, they were no longer dead and still. They were moving, following my movements, brightening a little as if life were returning to them. I stopped singing in surprise, her eyes dimmed. Of course! Had not my mother’s singing reached down into my consciousness and drawn me back from the doors of death? Perhaps she could hear my song, now! I began to sing again, this time with purpose and a message in each word and joyous note. Her eyes moved restlessly but they moved! I washed and made her comfortable, then I sat beside her to feed her. Was I imagining it or did her lips really reach for the spoon, and did she swallow readily instead of that waiting for the weight of the mouthful to force an automatic swallowing? I raised my eyes to look into her eyes. There were no longer any doubt—mother was wakening! She must have heard my song. The wonder of it had made her want to stop and listen for I had never been given to song, especially to the spontaneous singing of a heart overfull.

  “Mother.” I leaned over, catching her eye. “Mother, listen, do you hear me? You must wake up. Wonderful things have happened! I have found God—and the Messiah! Not in the temple but here! You were right! We are God’s people and even more His people than you knew. Lift your eyes up, Mother, and se
e how God has provided. I have found God and will not turn away from Him again. Come with me.”

  Her gaze followed the rocky outlines of the high-ceiled room. A small frown creased her brow, then she was still and though I tried to sing to her, to call her back, she showed no answer. I wanted to cry, but kept my song bright against the falling tears. She must not see the old anxious Tanya, or the skeptic, or the selfish thoughtless one again. Then perhaps she would know that what I was telling to her ears was true. I must indeed give her back her song—rather I must give her a new song!

  22

  THE HEAVENS DECLARE—

  PAUL WAS GONE AT LAST. I had walked with him as far as the beautiful cameo-like temple that towered like a mighty carved gate, pillared in beauty and strength at the head of the winding, tortuous wadi-entrance. He would not let me go farther, but he could not keep my heart from following, following as he took the first few steps away from me, then was gone, lost in the awesome canyon that led out into the blackness of a world gone mad with terror and abandonment. Every hour now brought new refugees to the Temple gate. Night and day, Simon, the Rabbi and others entrusted with the sifting at the gate, met and examined and heard the tales that grew in enormity and incredibility. It seemed impossible, even after the years of persecution and trial in Europe, that men could conceive of the things now being perpetrated on those who would not take the mark.

  More and more people told of food destroyed before their eyes, of insane revels and wild ceremonies that were supposed to be for worship of the Beast. The old gods, Moloch and others had never demanded such bloody offerings or such drunken reveling as those now being offered in the name of the Beast. Man seemed to have thrown off every inhibition—none was demanded by the Beast. To receive the mark seemed to be to receive special license for doing any and everything the lowest mind could conceive, and all minds seemed to be drawing on the pits of darkness and sin for suggestions and ideas.