“Hosanna, Hosanna,” the figures sang, in voices that sounded so beautiful the men could hardly believe their ears.
“Tonight is the most special of nights,” they announced. “Tonight in Bethlehem the Messiah comes to men, just as it was prophesied.”
As the shepherds stared, astonished, the beautiful figures began to ascend directly toward the light until they were so high it was impossible for the men to see them any longer. When they were gone the light on the hilltop disappeared suddenly, leaving only the small campfire to light the night.
The shepherds knelt in silence for several minutes. They were awestruck and each man knew something had happened tonight, something that would make things different for time immemorial. But none understood what he had seen.
Benjamin hesitantly spoke. “Father, do…do you think we should follow the light from the star to Bethlehem? The star still shines there.” He pointed toward the hamlet, where the second stellar shaft was still beaming down.
“Yes, my son. It may be that we are the only people who were given this sign from the heavens, and I think we must go and see for ourselves what is happening in the town.”
He instructed Benjamin to take his pack, knowing that the boy’s parchment, quill and ink rested inside, and knowing that on this special night a record of the events transpiring would be required.
The dazed shepherds arose and uncharacteristically left their sheep to graze on the Judean hillside as they moved down toward the bustling town. It was well after midnight, a time when on an ordinary night the town would be dark and quiet, its residents slumbering. The shepherds knew that many of the inns and taverns remained open late now that the tourists were in town. As they approached the low gates that marked the edge of Bethlehem the group noticed that the streets were as busy as if it were midday but no one seemed to have noticed anything unusual.
“They do not know of the sign,” Joab murmured. “They go about as if nothing has happened.”
It was harder to discern the destination marked by the star from this vantage point, since the streets of Bethlehem were lit by oil lamps and were crowded with drunken revelers. People pushed and shoved.
“Where are we going?” one of the shepherds asked.
“I know,” Benjamin answered. “I think I can get us very close to where the star’s light was shining.”
He took the lead, guiding them through narrow, winding streets, making one turn after another through the familiar avenues of his birthplace. Several times they pushed through throngs of pilgrims laughing and talking among one another.
“I think it’s just around the next corner,” Benjamin said at last to his father.
They turned the corner and immediately noticed a significant change. For about three blocks in front of them the street was strangely quiet. Several shuttered businesses stood on the left side of the street, and most of the next block was taken up by The Four Horsemen, the old tavern that had been in existence for many years on that site. The few people in the area were staring, dumbfounded, at the establishment’s entrance.
Most nights this area was dimly lit but tonight the area shone with an unearthly glow. Benjamin looked up. There was the shaft of light coming from the bright star overhead, shining down directly on The Four Horsemen!
Joab knew Ishmael, the proprietor of the inn. He occasionally went there to catch up on the news and talk politics with other patrons of the tavern. As the group moved to the entrance of The Four Horsemen, they encountered a small throng of people milling about and looking inside.
“What goes here?” Joab asked the people.
A tall bearded man answered. “We don’t know. We were drinking inside when suddenly everything got very bright and I was struck down. I fell to the floor and saw that my friends had done the same. In fact, everyone in the tavern was lying on the floor as though we were unable to stand.”
He continued, telling the shepherds that after a few moments the group found themselves able to stand. They had moved outside, where they were astounded by the brightness of the sky. It was as though it were morning.
Something else happened, the man related, something involving another person who came into the tavern. But he was unable to put his thoughts into words.
“From whence do you come?” one of the tavern patrons asked Joab.
“We were tending sheep on a hill west of town. We too saw the light and we followed it here.”
Looking around, the men from the tavern suddenly realized that the light was in fact a shaft, and that by moving only a few feet away they could step out of the bright glow, and the street became as dark as it had been before. Only directly around the tavern was the beautiful light streaming down from the biggest, most splendid star any of them had ever seen.
“Why is this happening?” the shepherds asked each other. Joab wanted to learn more. He took Benjamin’s hand and walked into The Four Horsemen. Ishmael, the inn’s owner, was standing behind the empty bar, wiping his brow with a towel. He was perspiring heavily and was obviously in a state of shock.
“Ishmael, it’s Joab, the shepherd. What has happened to you?”
“Joab. I don’t know. I just don’t know. One minute I was serving drinks to a crowd of people, the next minute my tavern was lit up as though a thousand candles were burning. Look at the place now – it’s brighter in here than it usually is on the street at noontime!”
Joab led Ishmael by the arm to a nearby table. He and Benjamin sat with the innkeeper and asked him to recall anything unusual that happened during the evening.
Ishmael gathered his thoughts. “At first there was nothing different. This is the best time of all for me. Every room in town is full of out of town guests here for the census, you know. A man did come to the bar a couple of hours ago, looking for a room. He was very tired and said he had come a long way, from Nazareth, I believe he said. I brushed him away – I was busy at the time – and told him there were no more rooms available here. He was insistent, however, saying that his wife was about to deliver a child after having ridden on a donkey all day. He was concerned for her welfare.”
“What did you do?” Joab asked.
“I started to tell him to leave, but I looked up for a moment, into his eyes. Then I saw his wife standing in the doorway. She was about to have her baby, all right. But,” Ishmael stopped for a moment, “but Joab, she looked like an angel. Her face glowed. She was a plain village girl, but at that moment, for some reason, she looked like the most beautiful woman on earth to me. I felt sorry for the couple, and something in my heart told me to take care of them.”
“But you had no rooms.”
“No, but you know that little cave off the courtyard, behind the tavern? We used to store food in there and now I use it as a stable for my cows. I told the man – Joseph, I think he said his name was – that he and his wife could use the stable for the night at no charge. I gave them some blankets and sent my servant out to fluff up the hay. He came back and told me the man and woman had settled in and seemed content with the accommodation.”
Ishmael looked up at Joab. “What have I done?” he said despairingly. “The light. The light.”
“What do you mean?”
“After the couple went to the stable, about an hour had passed. I had completely forgotten about them. This was the busiest night I’ve had in years, Joab, and I was serving drinks and food as quickly as I could. I sensed another patron standing at the bar and looked up to serve him. I…I can’t tell you what happened next,” Ishmael said, stammering.
Joab coaxed the rest of the story from Ishmael. As the innkeeper looked up, he saw a figure standing in front of him, dressed completely in golden robes and bathed in an unearthly light. The figure appeared to be a man, although his skin was whiter than anything Ishmael had ever seen. Ishmael recalled being able to see through the man, as though he were a specter. But Ishmael was not afraid. He felt instead an incredible sense of peace and well-being when the figure smiled at him. Ishmael was
aware that every other person in the room had fallen to the floor for some reason. He himself was standing but he felt as though he should be kneeling before this most unusual apparition.
Ishmael had become aware of a bright, soothing light that filled the room. Through the windows it made the outside look as bright as noontime. The light had begun when the figure approached Ishmael’s bar.
He said that the figure then spoke to him in a melodious voice that sounded incredibly beautiful.
“Hosanna. Innkeeper, you have joined the historical thread of the Messiah on this night. You have given the birthplace to the Savior of the World.”
“What does it mean, Joab? I’m afraid to go out in the back courtyard. The light’s so bright around the stable that it scares me. But the animals aren’t afraid. I can see my cows and Joseph’s donkey milling about. What does it all mean?”
Joab told Ishmael what he and the shepherds had seen on the hilltop less than an hour before. It seemed that at the exact time the shepherds were being visited by the heavenly angels, the ethereal figure was speaking to Ishmael in his inn.
“Do you know what I think, Ishmael? I think we are part of prophecy fulfilled. I think the Messiah has returned. It must have been Him you saw – that man Joseph – and He must be in the stable now!”
Despite the late hour, Benjamin was wide awake as he listened to his father’s words. Ishmael, the proprietor of The Four Horsemen, stood aghast as he stared blankly at Joab.
Ishmael stammered. “You think…you think…you’re saying that man in my stable is the Messiah?”
“I have no other explanation, my friend. If we both believe our eyes, if you believe that the man in your tavern was not of this world, if I believe the figures we saw in the sky were from Heaven, then I have no other answer. Look outside even now.”
The men stared through the open window into the rear courtyard and the rude stable on the other side. It wasn’t a deep room, and the shaft of light shining into the courtyard made things very bright.
“The light seems to be centered on the stable itself,” Joab noted. “Let’s go have a look.”
The patrons in the street were slowly making their way back into the tavern. They seemed dazed by the events of the last ten minutes, and were talking among themselves, trying to make sense of something they had never experienced before. Ishmael sent his daughter out into the room to take orders as Joab, Benjamin and the other shepherds walked through the back door into the courtyard. While he was inside the tavern, Benjamin had felt afraid, not knowing what awaited them if they ventured outside. But once they were in the courtyard, they all remarked about the incredible sense of peace and calmness they felt as they stepped into the bright light.
The courtyard was fairly small – no more than fifty meters separated the back door of the inn from the small stable. Benjamin saw two adults – a woman and the man his father had said was the Messiah, kneeling beside a small manger. As the shepherds drew closer, they too knelt – not from a sense of obligation but because something inside caused them to drop to their knees. Benjamin felt his skin tingle, and he became light-headed. As he drew close, he saw a tiny baby lying in the makeshift crib on a bed of hay, wrapped in a beautiful white cloth.
The man and woman looked up at the shepherds who now knelt in front of the manger. Joab spoke to the man.
“Messiah. We have seen your heralds in the skies outside Bethlehem.”
The man smiled. He spoke with a soft, gentle voice. “Good shepherd, I am not the Messiah whom you seek.” Gesturing before him, he continued. “The King lies before you.”
Benjamin’s mouth opened in astonishment. It was the baby whom they were claiming as the Messiah! His mind was filled with the things he had been taught in synagogue school about the coming of the Messiah. Never had anyone dreamed it would be a small baby. How could this be? What did it mean?
Joab and the other shepherds had the same thoughts. Although these were not educated men, all Jews awaited the Messiah, and all knew he was to come one day.
“Joab,” one of the shepherds whispered, “should we believe the man?”
“I think we had better. Look at the back of the stable.”
In the rear of the stable stood a figure whom the shepherds had not noticed previously – in fact, Benjamin was certain it had not been there a few seconds ago. It was in the form of a man but its countenance was so bright that its clothes and skin literally shone with light. Although it stood behind the man and woman, out of the light of the piercing shaft from above, it radiated light itself so that the immediate area surrounding the figure was bathed in a soft glow.
The figure spread its arms wide, encircling both the woman and the man, and smiling down upon the baby lying before the three of them.
“Behold,” the figure said in a melodic voice that seemed to Benjamin to be the essence of joy itself. “Behold your Messiah! Bow down and honor Him, sent by the Father to fulfill the promises of the scriptures!”
Without willing it, the shepherds and Benjamin found themselves prostrate on the ground in front of the baby’s manger. After a few seconds they looked up. The figure of light was gone.
“Rise up,” the man called Joseph said. “Worship the King. Yahweh is with us.”
Part One
Chapter One
Over the Atlantic Ocean
The present
As soon as the huge British Airways 777 lifted off the runway, Brian Sadler had reclined his first class SleeperSeat. His body was tired and his muscles tense. Only hours ago he had completed the most important deal of his life. His limo driver had raced down the corniche to deliver him to the Cairo airport, dropping Brian off just in time to check in and make the flight.
Since he’d taken over Bijan Rarities, flying was becoming old hat to Sadler. He knew all the tricks. The luggage he’d needed for the trip to Cairo was securely stowed in the overhead bin above him. He never checked bags, reasoning that he’d rather spend a fortune on the hotel laundry than take the time to retrieve his gear, or even lose it. He couldn’t have checked the briefcase anyway, especially not on this trip. It was uncomfortable having it lightly tethered to his wrist and the pliable plastic was a constant reminder that he was attached to the case, but it was essential this time.
Since he’d joined the gallery, not a day passed that Brian didn’t unconsciously think about the sad turn of events that resulted in his incredible good fortune. As he lay fully reclined in his seat, he thought once again about the future he would have once he finalized The Project. Brian Sadler was a satisfied man. He was thirty-five years old and on top of his game.
As CEO of Bijan Rarities, Brian had participated in the purchase and sale of some of the most priceless items ever to appear in an auction house or a museum’s collection. His computer contained profiles on Trumps, Rockefellers, Hunts and Buffetts. He knew them all – knew what they collected, what they wanted, what they couldn’t live without.
He knew other collectors too – the ones who would pay a fortune for an item that was unique, even if it meant the public would never see it again. Those people didn’t ask the questions that might break a deal, questions like “How did you get this piece?” or “Wasn’t this in the Children’s Museum of Baghdad before the war?” They wanted the best at any price, no questions asked.
Chapter Two
The plane landed at Kennedy Airport thirty minutes behind schedule. It was a gorgeous autumn day. The New York skyline had been breathtaking as the plane banked for landing. Brian never stopped loving New York. It had been a couple of years since he had moved here from Dallas but the Big Apple had quickly become home.
As the jet bridge moved to the plane’s door the flight attendants blocked the rear of the forward cabin so the first class passengers could disembark ahead of them. Brian waited, a family of Middle Eastern descent just in front of him. The wife was wrapped head to toe in a burka. She and her children talked excitedly, and he wondered how they’d enjoy New York, so diffe
rent from their part of the world yet still a melting pot that welcomed everyone.
They moved quickly along the passage that snaked through the bowels of the airport, heading toward Immigration. Eventually the hallway opened into a wide room with separate aisles for U.S. Citizens and Non-Residents. Brian moved around the Arab family but a Customs officer noticed his briefcase, detained him briefly and asked for his declaration form.
“You’ll have to remove the tether from your case now and take Lane 4 at Customs.” He made a mark on Brian’s form and returned it to him.
As he waited in line, Brian removed a small key and unlocked the band from the handle of the briefcase. It looked thin and pliable but had the tensile strength of steel. The handle would have broken before the tether and he would have had plenty of warning that someone was tampering with it. He bent, set the case on the floor and stood, putting his customs declaration form in his jacket pocket so he could easily get to it.
He saw the Arab family from the plane move by in a line just next to him, separated only by a thin cloth rope that allowed American citizens to use what was normally the faster lane. Today, however, the slight delay in Brian’s arrival time meant that three other planes had unloaded hundreds of passengers at the same time. The arrivals hall was teeming with people and the line for citizens was slower than the one for foreign nationals.
After a few minutes Brian moved to the Immigration desk and presented his form to an agent.
“Welcome home, Mr. Sadler. What countries have you visited on this trip?”
Brian said he was on a business trip and had been to Egypt and England.
“And what business are you in, sir?”
“I own an auction house and trading company.”
After noting that Brian had only carry-on luggage, the officer again glanced at his form and advised him to go directly downstairs to Customs, proceed through the hall and take Lane 4, the area that would get him more than the usual wave-through. Brian knew he’d be talking to an inspector. It was unavoidable this trip since the tether from hand to case was required and it had obviously raised red flags in Customs already.
Brian Sadler Archaeology 01 - The Bethlehem Scroll Page 2