by James Barney
“The Crossing of the Jordan by Raphael,” said Reynolds. “The original is in the Vatican. I’ve seen it in person. It’s beautiful.”
Ana inspected the Raphael painting closely. It depicted four men dressed in plain robes, like friars, carrying a large house-shaped box on their shoulders, presumably the Ark of the Covenant. A bearded man with flowing white hair—presumably God—was holding back the flow of the Jordan River with his hands and right shoulder. Joshua was in the forefront, dressed like a Roman legionnaire in a silver breastplate and white pleated kilt with gold trim. His helmet was adorned with a brilliant plume of white feathers. He was leading an army of thousands of men on foot and horseback across the dry riverbed as God himself held back the raging waters.
“Not accurate, of course,” said Reynolds. “Joshua would not have been dressed like a Roman military officer. He certainly wouldn’t have had body armor or a bronze helmet, or nice sandals, for that matter. The Israelites had just spent forty years in the desert. Joshua himself was born into slavery in Egypt and lived nearly his entire life in the wilderness among hundreds of thousands of people who had no permanent home. In reality, Joshua and his army would have looked more like bedouins—basically, vagabonds. Which is what made their conquest of Canaan all the more amazing.”
Ana turned her attention back to the wall.
“Take the next picture, for instance,” said Reynolds. He pointed to a smaller, black-and-white etching next to the Raphael print. “It’s called The Fall of the Walls of Jericho, by John Martin.”
Ana inspected the dark print, which depicted a dramatic scene of mayhem and destruction. An army of soldiers watched from the foothills of Jericho as the massive walls of the fortified city came tumbling down amidst a swirling dark sky and bolts of lightning.
“Jericho was a powerful city at that time,” said Reynolds. “Yet Joshua chose it as his first military target. That would be like the Hondurans deciding to conquer America and choosing Washington, D.C., as their first target.”
“How did they get the walls to come down like that?”
“Actually,” said Reynolds. “They used the ark.”
“Again?”
“Yes. God instructed Joshua to have his men carry the Ark of the Covenant around the walls of Jericho once a day for six days, blowing rams’ horns as they did. On the seventh day, the men circled the city seven times with the ark. And then, with one last blast of the rams’ horns and with all of Joshua’s men shouting at the tops of their lungs, the walls of Jericho came crumbling down.”
Nonsense, thought Ana. But she kept this sentiment to herself, nodding politely with a straight face. “So does Jericho still exist?”
“Oh, yes,” Reynolds replied. “It’s located in the Palestinian territories, on the West Bank.” He stepped forward and indicated the location of modern Jericho on one of the maps on the wall. “In fact, Jericho is one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world. Archaeologists have found evidence of civilization there since at least 9000 B.C. And, more important, there’s clear evidence of a massively destructive event in Jericho around 1400 B.C., about the time of Joshua’s conquest. There’s even evidence that the city’s walls were destroyed during that event.”
“Really?”
Reynolds nodded enthusiastically. “The most famous excavation of Jericho, and probably the most thorough to date, was Kathleen Kenyon’s work in the late 1950s. She concluded that the Bronze Age city of Jericho, including its surrounding walls, was destroyed in a single cataclysmic event in approximately 1500 B.C., which is about a century earlier than the biblical account in Joshua. But more recent studies and carbon dating have shown that her estimate was slightly off. The actual date was closer to 1400 B.C., which would coincide nearly exactly with the Old Testament account. Of course, people still differ on this, but the evidence is very strong.”
“Interesting,” said Ana. “And what about this picture?” She pointed to a large, majestic depiction of an epic event, complete with swirling clouds and dramatic scenery.
“Ah, that’s an interesting one,” said Reynolds. “Another work by John Martin from the early nineteenth century. It’s called Joshua Commands the Sun to Stand Still over Gibeon. And it depicts the story that is told in Joshua, chapter ten, of the Israelites’ defeat of five Amorite kings and their armies at Gibeon.”
Ana traced a strand of bright pink yarn from the painting to a modern political map of Israel and Palestine. “Is this Gibeon?”
“Yes. Near the present-day village of Al-Jeeb in the Palestinian territories. It’s situated on a high hill on the outskirts of Jerusalem. A very strategic location in ancient times.”
Ana remembered the “sun standing still” story from her research last night and recalled that it involved the book of Jasher. “So what happened there?” she asked.
“Well . . . Joshua’s crushing defeat of Jericho had sent shock waves throughout the territory of Canaan. At that time, each city in Canaan was essentially its own kingdom or city-state. Some of these city-states decided to make peace with the Israelites rather than risk being destroyed like Jericho. Gibeon was one of those cities that preferred peace to war. With Gibeon under their control, the Israelites now had a strategic stronghold in this hilly area here.” Reynolds pointed to the area around Gibeon on one of the biblical maps. “And that really worried the surrounding city-states, especially Jerusalem, which was less than ten miles away. So five kings from these surrounding city-states decided to join forces and attack Gibeon, in order to drive out the Israelites, but also to send a message to the other cities in Canaan that they should not make peace with the Israelites.”
“And how did that turn out for them?”
Reynolds let out a dry laugh. “Not good. When Joshua heard what was happening, he quickly marshaled his forces and led an all-night march to Gibeon, where he launched a surprise attack on the Amorite army. He crushed them at Gibeon and soon had them on the run . . . all the way along the road from Beth Horon to Azekah, which is way down here.” Reynolds pointed to Azekah on the biblical map.
“So what about the sun-standing-still part?”
“Well, Joshua wasn’t satisfied with just repelling the Amorites from Gibeon. He wanted to utterly destroy them . . . to eliminate their ability to regroup and fight again, and probably also to send his own message to the other cities in Canaan. But the day was coming to an end, and he needed more time to finish the job. So, according to the Bible, he commanded the sun to stand still in the sky, which it did. For about a whole day. You might say that Joshua bought himself more time, literally, to complete his mission.”
“And is this where the book of Jasher comes in?”
“Yes,” said Reynolds, nodding. “This is one of two places in the Old Testament where the book of Jasher is specifically mentioned.” He pulled a small Bible from one of the crowded bookshelves in the room and quickly flipped to the correct page. “In the King James version, it says: ‘And the sun stood still, and the moon stayed, until the people avenged themselves upon their enemies. Is not this written in the book of Jasher?’ ”
“And what, exactly, is the ‘book of Jasher’?”
Reynolds laughed. “You’re opening up a whole can of worms there.” He swept his hand all around the cluttered room. “As you can see, I’ve spent many years trying to answer that question.”
“And . . . ?”
“And . . . the only thing I can tell you for sure is that it isn’t this.” He pulled a thin booklet from the shelf and held it up. Then he pulled another booklet from the same shelf and held it up in his other hand. “And it’s probably not this, either.”
“Those are the two books you analyzed in your Ph.D. dissertation?”
Reynolds looked surprised. “You dug up that old thing?”
Ana shrugged. “Just wanted to be prepared for today. I have to admit, though, I couldn’t really follow all of it.”
Reynolds smiled. “That’s okay, neither could the thesis co
mmittee at Princeton.” He paused, apparently collecting his thoughts. “How about I just give you the short version?”
“That would be great.”
“Okay, let’s start with the easy one first.” He handed Ana one of the two booklets, a pamphlet-size volume with a thick paper cover that was yellowed with age and well worn around the edges.
Ana read the title:
The Book of Jasher
with Testimonies and Notes
Translated into English from the Hebrew by Flaccus Albinus Alcuinus,
who went on a Pilgrimage into the Holy Land, and Persia,
where he discovered this volume, in the city of Gazna.
The publication date was MDCCCXXIX.
“A well-documented fraud,” said Reynolds after he’d given her a moment to review the cover. “It was first published in 1751, and then again in 1829, which is the version you’re holding now. It contains so many anachronisms and contextual flaws that no serious student of Hebrew or the Bible believes it’s a translation of an ancient Hebrew document, let alone the book of Jasher.”
“Hmm.” Ana took one last look at the forgery and handed it back to Reynolds. He then gave her the other booklet, which was very similar in size and appearance, and also showed signs of age. Ana read the title:
The Book of Jasher,
referenced to in
Joshua and Second Samuel
At the bottom of the front cover was the imprint of M. M. Noah & A. S. Gould and a publication date of 1840.
“This one’s a much closer call,” said Reynolds. “It was published in Hebrew in Venice in 1625. The 1625 version indicates that an earlier version was published in Naples in 1552, but nobody has ever found that version. The version you’re holding is the first English translation, which was published by Mordechai Noah in New York in 1840.”
“What does it say?” asked Ana, already skimming through the pages.
“Well, for the most part, it tracks the stories of the Old Testament, from Adam and Eve to Noah and the Great Flood to Exodus and Israel’s conquest of the promised land. Some of the wording is different, and in many places it’s much more condensed. But, in general, it tracks the Hebrew Bible pretty well.”
“Wait. So it doesn’t contain anything new or different? How about the story of the sun standing still—what does it say about that?”
Reynolds shrugged and took the book back from her. “That story is recounted in chapter eighty-eight.” He flipped to a page near the end of the book. “Just like the Bible, it describes Joshua’s army chasing the Amorites along the road to Azekah, smiting them along the way. And then it says: ‘The day was declining toward evening, and Joshua said in the sight of all the people, Sun, stand thou still upon Gibeon, and thou moon in the valley of Ajalon, until the nation shall have revenged itself upon its enemies. And the Lord harkened to the voice of Joshua, and the sun stood still in the midst of the heavens, and it stood still six and thirty moments, and the moon also stood still and hastened not to go down a whole day.’ ”
“That’s it?”
“Were you expecting something else?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” said Ana. In fact, she had been expecting something else. If not a revelation, then at least a clue as to why a researcher from the Thurmond National Laboratory would be so intensely interested in the book of Jasher. This doesn’t add up. “What does ‘six and thirty moments’ mean?” she asked.
Reynolds shrugged. “I don’t know. And apparently neither did the person who translated the original Hebrew back in 1840. He placed an asterisk by the word ‘moments’ and explained that the original Hebrew version used the word ‘times.’ In other words, the original text referred to the sun standing still for ‘six and thirty times.’ But the translator said he’d never seen that term before and didn’t know what it meant. So he used the word ‘moments’ instead.”
Ana was quiet for a long time as she digested all of this information. “So, do you think this version is genuine?”
Reynolds blew out a long breath and shook his head. “I’ve been going back and forth about that my whole career. These days, most experts seem to be split right down the middle. About half think it’s a genuine transcription of an original Hebrew document dating from at least the eighth century B.C. The other half think it originated sometime during the Middle Ages, nothing more than a copy or paraphrasing of the Hebrew Bible. And there’s evidence to support both sides.”
“What do you think?”
“I . . . don’t think it’s authentic,” he said after a long pause. “But not because of the minor flaws in Hebrew grammar or the discrepancies between this book and other cross-referenced texts. No, my feeling is actually based on something Franz Holzberg told me way back when I was a grad student.”
Okay, here we go. “And what was that?”
Reynolds seemed hesitant to say. He cocked his head slightly to the side and asked, “What kind of book are you writing, exactly?”
“It’s a comprehensive biography of Franz Holzberg. From his early childhood in Limburg, Germany, through his work at Humboldt University in Berlin, to his time at the Institute of Advanced Studies, his relationship with Einstein and Oppenheimer and others, and his views on everything from politics to religion. Why? Is there something that you’re concerned about being in the book?”
Reynolds closed his eyes for a few seconds, apparently contemplating this question. Finally, he replied, “No. I guess not.”
Ana waited patiently as Reynolds continued collecting his thoughts. “Okay. I’ve never told anyone this before. Not even my wife. This is something Franz told me in strict confidence, and he asked me to keep it secret. Which I have. All these years.” He paused for a moment, apparently still debating whether to continue. “But I . . . I suppose it’s time.”
Ana nodded for him to continue.
Reynolds retrieved his small Bible and thumbed quickly to a particular page. “Joshua chapter 4 explains what happened after the Israelites successfully crossed over the dry bed of the Jordan River. At that point, Joshua summoned twelve of his men—one from each of the twelve tribes of Israel—and instructed them to ‘pass over before the ark of the Lord your God into the midst of Jordan, and take ye up every man of you a stone upon his shoulder, according unto the number of the tribes of the children of Israel.’ ” Reynolds looked up from the book.
“What did they do with the twelve stones?” Ana asked.
“That’s explained in verse twenty: ‘And those twelve stones, which they took out of Jordan, did Joshua pitch in Gilgal.’ ” Reynolds stepped forward and pointed to the map of modern Israel and Palestine. “Gilgal would have been right about here, just east of Jericho, which is where the Israelite army had set up camp as they prepared to attack Jericho. This is where the Bible says they constructed a memorial using the twelve stones that had been collected during the crossing of the Jordan River.”
“Does the book of Jasher say something different?”
“Well, that’s just it,” said Reynolds. “The 1625 version doesn’t say anything about this event. It skips that part of the story completely. Which I always thought was odd because, in most places, the translation tracks the book of Joshua very closely. Yet, when it comes to these important stones being taken from the Jordan River and erected at Gilgal, it’s completely silent.”
“But you said the book of Jasher is condensed in places, compared to the Bible. So maybe that part just got left out.”
“Sure, that’s possible,” said Reynolds. “But that’s where Franz’s comments come in. You see, Franz was very interested in the story of these twelve stones. He called them ‘seeds.’ ”
“Seeds?”
“Uh-huh. Or sometimes he would say ‘seed material.’ According to him, that’s what was actually in the Ark of the Covenant. And he described a way that this seed material could be piled up together to create a self-sustaining reaction of some sort. Like they did at the University of Chicago back in the early d
ays of nuclear research.”
Ana nodded. She remembered reading about the world’s first self-sustained nuclear reactor, which had been built in 1942 in a very unusual, and risky, location: directly beneath the bleachers of an unused sports field at the University of Chicago. They achieved sustained nuclear fission by piling blocks of uranium and graphite into a large mound until it eventually reached “critical mass,” the point at which fission becomes self-sustaining. This crude reactor was dubbed “CP1,” an acronym for “Chicago Pile 1.”
“Anyway,” Reynolds continued. “Franz and I were talking one day—just a private conversation between the two of us—and he told me that he believed these twelve stones were used during the Battle of Gibeon . . . to create the long day.” He nodded toward the John Martin painting of Joshua commanding the sun to stand still.
“Wait. How were they used to make the sun stand still?”
Reynolds shrugged. “Again, Franz was able to explain it using complex physics and mathematical equations. As best I can recall, it was the same phenomenon that was used to slow down the flow of the Jordan River, but on a larger scale. ‘Time dilation,’ he called it. He said that with enough of this material, you could create a large sphere where time ran more slowly. If you were inside the sphere looking out, it would seem like the sun was standing still because the rays of light would actually slow down when they hit the sphere, just like the flow of the river.”
This was making Ana’s head hurt. “Okay,” she said, rubbing her temples. “So, how does this relate to the book of Jasher? You said something Dr. Holzberg told you made you believe that the Venice version was not authentic.”
“Right,” said Reynolds, nodding. “When I asked Franz how he knew all this stuff, he told me in strict confidence that he’d once seen a German translation of the book of Jasher, which went into great detail about the seed material. According to him, this German version was not a paraphrasing of the Hebrew Bible, like the ones we have here. Instead, it was a book that basically explained how to use these special stones in warfare. A military tactics manual of sorts. And, according to Franz, this German translation also described precisely where the stones were located.”
