The Secret Chapel (god's lions)

by John Lyman

  Stopping to catch his breath, Leo wiped the dusty sweat from his face. “You know, Anthony, I’m just as excited as you are about finding this chapel, but have you given any thought to the fact that, if the code is correct, this discovery means that there could be some very dark days ahead for the world?”

  “We’re only excited because finding this ancient chapel validates the code, Father. The future of mankind is in God’s hands. Since the information we found in the code led us to this exact spot, does this not prove that the hidden code in the Old Testament is real? We may have received a message from God himself written thousands of years ago. Is this not reason enough to be excited? I would have thought you of all people would have understood the meaning of this.”

  Morelli seemed spent. He sat down on the stone floor and let the meaning of the moment soak in. An exhausted Father Leo sat down on the floor beside him.

  “Anthony, I want to learn more about this code in the Bible. If what you say bares any truth at all, we can all rejoice at the implications. However, I have to admit, I’m very concerned at the thought of where all of this will take us.”

  “I promise you, Leo, that tomorrow we’ll go over all the data we’ve collected up to this point. But I tell you now, there is no other explanation for our being led to this exact spot except for the hand of God himself.”

  Following his inspection of the chapel, John walked over and joined the two priests. “Except for the altar, there’s nothing else here. It’s just a bare room with no doorway.”

  Morelli began to sense that something wasn’t quite right. “I think we’ve spent enough time down here for now. The carbon dioxide levels are too high for us to stay any longer. Let’s move out into the tunnel and replace the bricks in the hole we made. Until we know the chapel’s true purpose, we need to keep its location a secret.”

  The trio began to gather the stone bricks that had fallen inside the chapel and piled them in the tunnel by the entrance. They worked quickly to fit all the bricks back into the hole while using the water from their canteens to moisten the powder-like mortar that had fallen to the floor. Scooping up the mud-like substance, they smoothed it into the spaces between the stones.

  When they were almost finished with their reconstruction, Leo’s eyes fell on a lone brick lying on the earthen floor. In their haste to enter the chapel, they had forgotten to check the loose bricks for any marks or symbols. He stepped closer and shined his light on the stone. His breath began to come in shallow gasps as he reached down and brushed away some of the dust that covered part of the image he was staring at.

  “Anthony… John… I think you two need to see this.”

  Father Morelli and John shined their lights down on the stone brick. On its painted surface, they saw the clear and unmistakable image of a modern jet plane hitting one of two very tall towers.

  “Oh, my God,” John said. “It’s 9/11!”

  All three looked at one another in disbelief. The ancient image depicting a modern event on a brick from inside a chapel sealed for nineteen centuries was too much to process at the moment.

  “We need to take that brick with us,” Morelli said.

  John concentrated on composing himself before grabbing the brick and shoving it into his backpack. “We really have to go, Fathers.”

  The three men finished sealing off the chapel in silence. They used existing tunnel debris to fill in the hole left from the missing brick and began making their way out of the long-forgotten section of the ancient Christian catacombs.

  Leo felt himself sway as the tunnel walls began to close in around him. “How much farther is it, Anthony?”

  “I don’t think we’ll have to go all the way back to Mamertine Prison. On the way here, I noticed an older side tunnel that appeared to lead in the direction of Castel Sant’ Angelo, and if we can find an exit there, we should be breathing fresh air in fifteen minutes.”

  The exhausted men made their way through a series of right and left turns until they came to a crumbling side tunnel. Trading looks, they entered the narrow passageway and followed it until they came across an old wooden ladder that led to a covered opening above their heads.

  Leo climbed up and found the name of the castle engraved on a heavy metal cover sealing the exit. He pushed as hard as he could with little success before John climbed up beside him with the pickax. They placed one end of the axe under the edge, and after some levered pushes, the cover inched away from the opening. Breathing even more heavily now, they all climbed up into a basement room of the ancient castle and collapsed on the floor.

  The massive fortress of Castel Sant’ Angelo was named after the Archangel Michael. It was built in AD 139 as Emperor Hadrian’s mausoleum. In the year 590, the Archangel Michael appeared above the mausoleum to Pope Gregory the Great. Returning his sword into its scabbard, the angel signaled the end of a plague. Since then, the castle has served as a medieval citadel, a prison, and as a residence to popes in times of political unrest.

  The lower levels were composed of stone cells, which were used mainly for storage. It was into one of these cells that the three men had climbed before collapsing from exhaustion and lack of fresh air. After resting for several minutes, they slid the heavy cover back over the manhole and continued to breathe in the oxygen-rich air.

  John raised himself to his feet and walked over to the only exit in the room. He lifted a heavy metal latch on the door and peered out into a brightly lit hallway. Backing into the other two, John held his finger up to his lips and quickly closed the door.

  Two security guards in impeccable dark blue uniforms were coming directly at them from a stairway at the far end of the hall. Had the guards seen him open the door? Footsteps stopped in the hallway outside. The three men listened. They could hear voices, then laughter, as the footsteps trailed off in the distance. John inched the door open and looked out into the empty hallway before glancing over his shoulder. “If we have to join another tour to get out of this place, I’m buying a full-season tourist pass.”

  The nervous trio stepped into the hall and made their way unseen up the stairs to an outside door that opened onto a street teaming with tourists. Catching a few stares, the tired, dirt-covered men stumbled out into the bright sunshine and summoned the last of their strength to make their way back toward the Vatican.

  Morelli stomped the sidewalk in an effort to shake the dirt from his shoes. “I’ve got to take a shower and go pick up my car. I’ll meet you at your hotel in a few hours, Leo.”

  Almost too weary to speak, Leo nodded before stopping to gaze up at the statue of Saint Michael perched on the summit of the castle. He turned toward Morelli. “Did we really just use the Bible to find an ancient hidden chapel?”

  Morelli smiled. “Amazing, isn’t it.”

  Chapter 8

  Following a hot shower, Father Leo dressed and opened a bottle of wine. After pouring a large glass, he walked out onto the balcony and breathed in the warm spring air containing a mixture of flowers, motorbike exhaust, and cooking smells heavy with garlic. It was pure Roman perfume that existed nowhere else on earth. He felt refreshed, and the events of the day had stirred him to feel more focused and alive with a kind of hyper-alertness guiding his thoughts.

  A knock at the door startled him. Setting his wine on a small glass-topped table, he moved back inside the room with unreasoning apprehension. Leo pulled the door open slightly and felt a surge of relief to see the grinning faces of Morelli and John standing in the hallway.

  “Well, can we come in?” Morelli asked, looking at his friend with a sense of amusement.

  “Of course. Sorry. I, well, I …”

  “You mean, you’re still a little freaked out about today,” John said.

  “Well, yes, to be frank. I mean, this whole business has been so sudden and has such profound implications. Aren’t you two at all fazed by what we’ve found?”

  Morelli put his hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Pour us some wine, Father. We have a lot to di
scuss.”

  John opened up his backpack and unceremoniously dropped the painted brick from the chapel onto the bed. There, before their eyes, was the image of a modern jet plane hitting the Twin Towers. It was unmistakable in its breadth and clarity.

  “I think the first thing we should do is have it carbon dated,” John said.

  “Yes, naturally,” Morelli agreed. “We also need to call Lev in Israel. He’ll want to run an analysis with the Bible code software right away. I feel we are on a breakthrough of … ”

  “Of biblical proportions?” John laughed.

  For the first time all day, Leo began to relax. These two tireless individuals were able to deal with what was probably one of the most astonishing historical discoveries of all time without losing their sense of perspective. With the thrill of discovery, the specter of unseen evil forces drifted off into the background.

  Morelli sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the phone while Leo and John walked out onto the balcony. The glow from the wine, the sunset, and the day’s events, had given Leo a feeling of total gratification to be at this place at this time in history as he listened to Morelli’s animated discussion with Lev Wasserman in Israel. This discovery was most likely the highlight of both their careers and went a long way toward validating the code.

  Leo handed John a glass of wine. “Where do you think we’ll go from here?”

  “Well, to tell you the truth, that’s not entirely clear, Father. A lot depends on the two men talking on the phone right now. Those guys are probably the most knowledgeable people in the world on what is happening and where all this may lead. I mean, can you believe it? We are actually waiting for an encoded message in the Bible to tell us what to do next. It’s like receiving a text message from God. If this doesn’t convince people of the existence of our Heavenly Father, then I don’t know what else will, besides an actual witnessed visitation.”

  “You seem pretty excited about all of this, John.”

  “Who wouldn’t be? Aren’t you?”

  “Of course. This is definitely the most exciting thing that’s ever happened in my life. I’m just glad to see someone from your generation so pumped up about history and the Bible.”

  “I’ve always loved history, Father. I grew up on a ranch in New Mexico, and we were surrounded by ancient Native American cliff dwellings. I used to ride my horse up into the mountains around the ranch house and sit among the ruins. The wind would blow through the canyons and you could almost hear the voices from the past. I would imagine the people who once lived there going about their daily lives in that very spot over a thousand years ago. I got the same feeling today when we were down in the catacombs. That’s why I decided my life’s work would be to learn all I could about history and the different civilizations that have evolved over time.”

  “Where did you go to school?”

  “The University of Arizona in Tucson. They have one of the best history programs in the country. One of the professors there is an authority on the Holy Land, and he got me interested in the time the Romans occupied Israel in the first century.”

  “So why the priesthood, John?”

  “I’ve always had the idea in the back of my mind, but I still don’t know if I’m ready to take sacred vows that will affect the rest of my life. At least the time I’ve spent in Assisi has opened my eyes to a lot of what the religious life is all about.”

  “You’re smart to give it some time. It’s a lifetime commitment and not one to be taken lightly, but I’m encouraged that more men of your caliber are considering it. You know, since 1965, candidates for the priesthood have dropped by an astonishing ninety percent.”

  John swirled the wine in his glass. “That could change after today. In the space of time between breakfast and supper, we’ve discovered what could arguably be called one of the greatest biblical finds ever. Even though we don’t yet know the meaning and purpose of the chapel, we do know that the Bible led us to it. That alone is proof of a higher power at work. I mean, think of it. Ancient man lacked the technology to embed such a sophisticated code in the Bible when it was written. If you ask me, divine intervention has to be the only logical explanation for the existence of a code so complex that it takes modern computers to reveal it. This could be the smoking gun in proving God’s existence to those who lack faith, Father.”

  Leo looked across the street at the dome of Saint Peter’s. He was totally spent from the day’s activities. Doubt began to seep into his subconscious. It was not the kind of doubt one experiences from a lack of faith, but a hesitancy that may well accompany all great and unbelievable finds men have stumbled upon throughout history. Conceivably, every one of mankind’s paramount discoveries, whether in math, astronomy, medicine, or archaeology, have all been greeted with similar doubt. Have we truly found what we think we’ve found? Can this, indeed, be real?

  Father Morelli hung up the phone and walked out onto the balcony. “Lev was so excited to hear we found the chapel that he put me on speaker phone so that his team in Israel could listen to all the details. I could hear them shouting and singing in the background. When I told him about the brick with the image of the plane crashing into the two towers, he was speechless. He’s well aware of the code’s ability to predict things, but to find a two-thousand-year-old stone with an image of the 9/11 attack painted on it is beyond comprehension. If I know the good professor, and I do, he’ll be awake all night studying the code trying to see how all of this fits.”

  “When do you think you’ll be hearing from him again?” Leo asked.

  “Oh, it might be in an hour or four in the morning or a month. One can never tell with the code. Even with computers, there is no limitation to the amount of information encoded in the Bible.”

  “I’m no mathematician here, but how is that possible?”

  “Think of the Bible as a cryptogram sent to us by God himself,” Morelli said, “a cryptogram with a series of time locks that could not be opened until certain events came to pass. Obviously, one of these events is the invention of the computer. This one leap in technology has enabled scientists and cryptographers who’ve been working on the code to discover hidden messages placed there by an intelligence greater than any that exists here on earth. There is another Bible within the Bible. It’s like a massive puzzle in layers, similar to a three-dimensional hologram. Some believe that the Bible itself is a computer program left to us by the Almighty, and there are an infinite number of combinations and permutations yet to be discovered. Even with all our computers and code-breaking programs, no one could have encoded the Bible the way it was done thousands of years ago.”

  Leo became even more fascinated with the implications as he listened to Morelli speak. “Just how much information is there?”

  “All of our past and all of our future. The name of every person who has lived before us, who is living now, and who is yet to be born. All of our greatest historical events, plagues, disasters, wars, and future wars. All are encoded in the Old Testament.”

  “But that’s utterly impossible!”

  “Well, Father, you’d better be prepared to argue with some pretty knowledgeable people who have done the research and proved its existence with a 99.998 percent probability. These guys were renowned scientists who set out to disprove the theory of the code, but instead, what they found sent chills up their spines. They saw the hand of God at work.”

  Leo refilled his glass. “Then if what you say is correct, we are looking at an intelligence that encoded our past, present, and future over three thousand years ago, using a mathematical model we can’t even grasp today.”

  “Exactly,” Morelli said. “And being a man of faith, I’m convinced that intelligence is God. He has given us proof with a modern twist that He exists and is sending us a message.”

  “Or opening up a dialogue,” Leo added.

  The three men gazed silently at the twinkling lights of Rome as darkness descended over the city, providing a backdrop to the brightly lit Bas
ilica of Saint Peter’s.

  “I think we’re missing something,” John said, after a moment of uncharacteristic silence.

  Morelli turned toward the young man. “Go on, John. I see those wheels turning inside your head.”

  “Well, for one thing, why is there an ancient seal in the catacombs depicting a nuclear attack? And of course, the big question is, who painted the image of the 9/11 attacks over two thousand years ago? Only someone with prophetic ability could have created pictures like that. Then there’s the question of who built the chapel and why.”

  Morelli leaned against the balcony railing and took a sip from his glass. “Good points, John. I wish I could answer those questions right now, but I can’t. We still have a lot of work ahead of us, so for now, that part of the puzzle will have to remain a mystery until we have time to sift through all the information.”

  “Do you think someone could have cracked the code that far back in time and constructed the chapel and painted the images as some kind of sign or warning to us now?” Leo asked.

  “I doubt it,” Morelli said. “Like I said earlier, without computers, the code would have been virtually invisible back then. Whoever built the chapel and painted the images may have had a little help in the form of divine intervention. Maybe it was constructed for a specific reason by ancient Christians led by a prophet who saw into the future. Who knows? We may never know who actually built it, but it’s there just the same, and that’s all we have to go on for now.”

  Morelli stretched with his arms above his head. “Well, my friends, the day is late, and I must rest.”

  John set his glass on the table. “Yeah, me too.”

  “Right. When we were your age, this discussion would have gone on until dawn,” Morelli said. “Oh, I almost forgot.” Morelli reached under his shirt and pulled out a large, gold pectoral cross. “This is for you, Leo.”

  “Where did you get that?”

  Morelli kept a straight face. “The cardinal store.”

  Leo looked puzzled. “The what…?”