Throughout the affected areas, at the moment John and Cohen died, the madness ceased.
When they reached the top stair of the Temple, Christopher turned to the gathering. “No one must touch the bodies,” he shouted, pointing at John and Cohen. “There is still great power within them. It will not be safe for anyone to touch or dispose of the bodies for at least four days.” Nodding to Decker to imply that he should reinforce the warning, Christopher turned back and then, together with Robert Milner, he continued into the Temple.
As they had planned before their arrival, Decker remained outside. Pulling a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket, he waited for the press who would, no doubt, descend on him as soon as they finished taking pictures of the two dead oracles. Decker was pleased to see that the press were heeding Christopher’s advice and not venturing too close to the bodies. There was no need to fear that the priests or Levites would touch them: Their laws forbade contact with dead bodies. The only real problem might come from onlookers who for now were still held back behind police lines.
Inside the Temple, Robert Milner and Christopher walked side by side. Crossing the floor of the normally bustling Court of the Gentiles, the only sound came from the column-lined portico that surrounded the court. There, animals meant for sacrifices had been brought to the Temple for sale to worshipers. They had been left there untended by the shepherds and merchants when everyone was driven out.
A hundred and fifty yards ahead of Christopher and Milner, the buildings of the Inner Court and the Sanctuary within it towered more than two hundred feet above them.
Outside the southern entrance and framed on either side by the blood of John and Cohen, Decker waited as the members of the press hurried up the steps to find what light he could shed on the events they were witnessing.
Christopher and Milner reached the soreg, the low stone wall that separated the Court of the Gentiles from the inner courts of the Temple and that formed a sacred balustrade, or enclosure, into which no Gentile was permitted to enter. Inscriptions on the soreg, harking back two thousand years to signs in Herod’s Temple, warned visitors in more than a dozen languages, “No foreigner may enter the enclosure around the Temple. Anyone doing so will bear the responsibility for his own ensuing death.” It was convenient that the Temple had been cleared, for the priests and Levites would never have permitted Christopher and Milner passage beyond the balustrade without an altercation.
Intentionally going out of their way to enter from the east, the men walked to the middle opening of the eastern end of the soreg. Quickly spanning the distance between the soreg and the first of three short flights of steps, Christopher and Milner ascended to the Chel, or rampart, a flat area 15 feet wide from which the massive stone walls of the Inner Court rose 37 feet above them.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Decker shouted above the din of the reporters. “I have a brief prepared statement, and then I’ll be available for a few questions.”
Someone yelled out a question but Decker ignored it. “Forty-five years ago I was a part of a scientific team from the United States that went to Italy to examine the Shroud of Turin, a piece of cloth bearing the image of a crucified man,” Decker began, reading from the statement he had prepared on the plane. In the limited time available, he provided as much detail as he could about the events that had followed the Turin expedition and which had led to this moment. He told them how, eleven years after the expedition, he had been contacted by a member of that team, Professor Harold Goodman, who asked him to come to UCLA to witness a discovery he had made concerning the Shroud.
“Professor Goodman,” Decker said, “had discovered that among the samples taken from the Shroud was a microscopic cluster of human dermal skin cells. To my amazement … ,” Decker paused, still awed as he recalled what he had seen those many years before, “the cells from the Shroud were still alive.” For some in the assembly, that piece of the puzzle and Christopher’s resurrection were all that was needed to make sense of the whole incredible picture, but though there was an audible gasp, no one spoke. “Tests of the cells showed them to be incredibly resilient and possessing a number of unique characteristics,” Decker continued. “It was from cultures grown of these cells that Professor Goodman conducted his cancer research.
“Unknown to me on that occasion, Professor Goodman had already performed a number of experiments with the cells,” Decker paused as if to give the reporters a chance to brace themselves, “including implanting the DNA from one of the cells into the embryo of an unfertilized human egg and then replacing that egg into the donor, thus … cloning the person whose cells were on the Shroud. From that cloning, a male child was born.” For those who had not yet figured it out, this revelation provided the missing link; for those who had guessed earlier, it was undeniable confirmation. Christopher Goodman was the clone of Jesus Christ.
It was an incredible story, but nothing else could explain Christopher’s resurrection only hours before or what they had just witnessed on the Temple steps. “That child was named Christopher,” Decker said, adding further confirmation. “He was raised by Professor Harry Goodman and his wife Martha until their untimely deaths in the Disaster. At that time,” Decker went on, “Christopher Goodman was fourteen years old and, having been directed by Professor Goodman to turn to me in the case of emergency, Christopher came to live with me. The rest of the story, at least the important parts, you know.”
The inflection in Decker’s voice let it be known that his prepared statement had drawn to a close, and as he folded the paper to return it to his pocket he was surprised that no one seemed to have any questions. He needn’t have been, for the reporters had plenty; they were all still processing what they had been told.
Looking around at their blank stares, Decker should have realized the problem, but instead started to excuse himself. His movement was just enough stirring of the waters for the dam to break. Someone in the back started to shout a question and then a flurry of queries were suddenly hurled at him. No particular arrangements had been made, so Decker simply answered first the question that had been yelled the loudest.
Yes, Christopher had really been dead.
Yes, he was indeed saying that Christopher was the clone of Jesus Christ.
Yes, he was saying that Christopher was God’s son, just as Jesus was. (This did not set well with the Jewish reporters in the group, but it was not a point that was currently open to argument.) No one had any reason to suspect or ask for the specific details of that relationship—which Christopher had revealed to Decker on the plane—and Decker had no intention of volunteering them. Christopher would explain all of that soon enough.
“What about his arm and eye?” a reporter called.
“Though Christopher has the power to restore his arm and sight,” Decker answered, “he has pledged not to do so until his mission is complete.”
“What is that mission? Why has Ambassador Goodman come to the Temple?” someone yelled. Most of the rest of the reporters fell silent, also wanting to know the answer to that question.
Decker thought for a moment. “There are a number of reasons, actually,” he said. “The first and most important reason was to end the reign of terror of the two men, John and Saul Cohen. That, as you have all just witnessed, he has done. Also, he came to the Temple because, I suppose, it is the most appropriate place for the announcement that he intends to make.”
“What announcement is that?” someone yelled, while someone else called, “Can you tell us what Ambassador Goodman intends to say?”
“He will be addressing the people of the world on the subject of the destiny of Humankind.”
Christopher and Milner climbed three more short flights of stairs through the Beautiful Gate and entered the Court of the Women. Only hours before, this court had been the center of activity in the Temple. Now it was silent except for the hollow echo of footfalls on the stone floor as Christopher and Milner walked without speaking toward the broad semicircular steps at
the western end of the court. At the top of these steps, the magnificent Nicanor Gate, sixty feet wide and seventy-five feet high, extended far above the walls themselves, forming an arch, and opened into the Court of Israel.
Only Jewish men and boys were allowed to enter this part of the Inner Court. Unlike the Court of the Women, which was square and open to the sky, the Court of Israel was narrow and roofed, encircling the innermost court, and crowded with numerous columns. A series of rooms used for storage and small meetings lined the walls of the Court of Israel, further reducing the open space.
The third and final court, the Court of the Priests, rose four feet above the Court of Israel. Though adjoining and fully open to the Court of Israel, admittance to this court was permitted only to laymen bringing a sacrifice. At all other times only the priests and Levites could enter. In the gateway to the Court of the Priests were four tables of hewn stone, on which lay the blood-drained carcasses of a half-dozen lambs and goats, abandoned there when the priests and Levites were driven from the Temple. The smell of blood, incense, and charred animal fat still hung heavy in the air. To the north and south of the gateway stood eight more tables in a similar state.
In the center of the easternmost part of the Court of the Priests, the Altar of Sacrifice rose twenty feet in stair-stepped pyramid form in a series of four immense, unfinished stones, which by commandment had never been touched by metal tools. 1 Steps on the eastern edge of the altar provided access to the upper stones. The capstone, which was called Ariel by the priests and Levites, was twenty-one feet square and, like the stone immediately below it, was seven feet thick. On this stone was the fire of sacrifice, which consumed the burnt offerings. Unattended by the priests, the fire had been reduced to embers.
From the four corners of the altar’s capstone, horn-like projections, each twenty-one inches long, reached skyward. On these horns and upon the altar itself, the priests would pour out the blood of the recently slaughtered animals as a sacrificial offering. Around the base of the altar was a gutter, twenty-one inches wide and twenty-one inches deep, with a containing rim of nine inches and a total capacity of more than three thousand gallons to accommodate the huge amounts of blood that were poured upon the altar during the busier days. The priests and Levites had been driven from the Temple only a little more than an hour into their day and so only a few inches of blood now settled in the altar’s gutter, coagulating and drawing flies.
Directly behind the altar, in the westernmost portion of the Court of the Priests, stood the Sanctuary. This was Christopher’s ultimate goal, but there was a mission he and Milner needed to accomplish before continuing. Quickly he found what he was looking for and nodded his intention to Milner. “We must see to it that no more animals are slaughtered here to satisfy Yahweh’s blood thirst. We must desecrate the altar so that it cannot be used again.”
Followed closely by Milner, Christopher went to where he had spotted a number of brass shovels used by the priests for removing ashes. They each picked up one of the shovels and went to a spot near the slaughter tables where a hill of animal dung had been collected for later removal. As best he could with the use of only one arm, Christopher scooped up a shovel full and then walked over and slung it against the sides of the altar. Again and again Christopher and Milner repeated the act until there was no dung left and the altar had been liberally splattered. Next they beat the brass shovels against each of the altar’s four stones.
“That should do it,” Christopher said finally, knowing that Jewish law would forbid ever again using these desecrated stones as an altar.
After finishing their chore, Christopher and Milner proceeded on to the Sanctuary. From above, the shape of the Temple proper formed a huge T—the result of the compromise between those who wanted to rebuild the Temple according to the plans of the prophet Ezekiel and those who wanted to recreate the design of Herod’s Temple. It was 175 feet across at the widest point, 105 feet at the narrowest, and stood 175 feet above the Court of the Priests. To the right and left of the entrance stood two tremendous free-standing bronze pillars, called by the priests respectively Jachin and Boaz.
Here Milner stopped. The rest of the way, Christopher would go alone.
Looking back only to nod to Milner, Christopher ascended the final set of steps to the Vestibule, or Porch. Directly in front of him were immense double doors six feet wide and thirty-five feet tall made of olive wood, decorated with carvings of cherubim, palm trees, and flowers and covered entirely in pure gold. Suspended above the doors, a spectacular multicolored tapestry displayed a panorama of the universe. And above that, the full width of the wall was covered with huge carvings of grape vines and leaves with clusters of grapes as tall as a man and nearly that distance across, entirely covered with gold.
Christopher took a deep breath and continued. Pushing open one of the huge doors and then the other, he let in the bright light of day and stepped through into the next chamber, called the Hkhl, or Holy Place. The ceiling of the Holy Place dropped 40 feet from the ceiling of the Porch to a height of 105 feet. The floor was covered with cypress wood. The walls were wainscoted with cedar, above which they were covered with gold. A golden altar for incense still smoldered, releasing the fragrant smell of frank-incense. Another altar for shewbread (holy bread) sat undisturbed with twelve sheets of unleavened bread laid out in rows. The candles of a golden menorah, though nearly consumed by the flame, provided the only interior light.
Still outside the Sanctuary, Robert Milner turned and walked back the way they had come in. There was a matter outside the Temple that awaited his attention.
In front of Christopher, suspended from the ceiling at the western end of the Holy Place was the Veil, a divider between the Holy Place and the final chamber, the Debhir, or Holy of Holies. Beyond the Veil, where only the high priest was allowed to go—and he, only once a year on the Day of Atonement—sat the ancient Ark of the Covenant. The Veil was actually two richly decorated curtains, which hung parallel to each other with about five feet of clearance between the two, forming an entry corridor that prevented any light from reaching the windowless Holy of Holies.
Walking to the northern edge of the curtain nearest the Holy
Place, Christopher took hold and pulled sharply until, bit by bit, it broke loose from the ceiling. He continued this until only a few yards of the curtain remained hanging. He then did the same with the other curtain, pulling it loose from the southern edge, thus leaving a wide entrance through the middle of the Veil and exposing the Holy of Holies to the light of day, which poured in through the Sanctuary’s huge doors.
Before him in the Holy of Holies two enormous winged cherubim, each eighteen feet tall, carved from olive wood and covered with pure gold, stood watch over the Ark of the Covenant. Their outstretched wings each spanned half the width of the chamber and met in the center of the room directly over the Ark.
Christopher entered the Holy of Holies and approached the Ark.
Outside, as Decker took another question from the press, a low rumbling began that shook the steps where he and the others stood. It seemed to come from inside the Temple. Without explanation, Decker calmly announced that he would take no more questions and that the press conference was concluded. “I suggest that you may want to move to the bottom of the steps and away from the Temple at this point,” he added in obvious understatement. Decker was beginning to enjoy himself.
Inside the Holy of Holies, Christopher stood before the Ark and after a moment’s pause, gripped the Ark’s cover and slid it back, revealing its contents.
“What’s happening?” several of the reporters shouted at Decker as the Temple shook again.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, if you’ll be patient, I’m sure you’ll have answers to all of your questions, but for your own safety, I must insist that you move away from the Temple immediately.” The resolve in Decker’s voice and the urgency of his steps convinced the others to follow.
Reaching into the Ark, Christopher found th
e items he was looking for.
A thunderous rumble many times louder than the first two rolled through the Temple like a freight train, sending reporters and onlookers running. A moment later Robert Milner emerged. He was alone. Resolutely, he descended about a quarter of the way down the steps. Looking out over the thousands of people and the dozens of cameras that broadcast the event around the world, he began to speak. It was his own voice, but it was different; at least Decker could tell there was a difference.
“‘See, I will send you the prophet Elijah before that great and dreadful day of the Lord comes. He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers; or else I will come and strike the land with a curse,’” Milner said, quoting the prophet Malachi. 2 The words were familiar to many but especially to the priests and Levites. “Hear, O Israel,” Milner said, no longer quoting, “for this day, this very hour, your lamentation is ended. This is the day of which the prophet spoke. Elijah has come! I am he!”
There was a great stirring from the Jewish priests and Levites at this proclamation and all eyes turned to see how the high priest would respond. It was bad enough that they had been run out of their own Temple, but now for this Gentile to claim that he was the prophet Elijah, while it wasn’t exactly blasphemy, it was a tremendous offense. No one was quite sure how to respond and they looked to Chaim Levin, the high priest, to follow his lead. Had they even an inkling that at that very moment Christopher stood within the Holy of Holies before the Ark of the Covenant, they would not have waited for the high priest, but already would have been tearing their clothes and dumping dust on their heads in Jewish ceremonial outrage.
In His Image Page 46
