THE LAST ARK

CHAPTER 18: ARK OF TESTIMONY

Bar-Ilan University, Tel Aviv Four Days Before Temple Ceremony

Outside the office door of Dr. Matan Rubin, professor of Hebrew literature, Derek wears an N95 mask over dark WITNESS lenses and plainclothes with a sports cap, checking for cameras. Loir pauses. “Remember, we say nothing of the abbot’s death. We’re only here to seek a translation.” Mordechai’s eyes cast down, clearly uncomfortable with even the deception of omission. Loir has the political wisdom to know what not to say, a candor Derek can appreciate. Loir knocks twice and enters. “Matan, old friend,” he greets a thin man with a balding scalp and angular nose. “Th ank you for meeting with me on such short notice.” “You said it would be worth my while,” the professor replies with a raised eyebrow. “Matan, I would like to introduce Brother Mordechai from Mar Jaris, and … ” Loir hesitates. “Derek Taylor,” he reaches out to shake hands. “Hey, is that a 3D printer?” he asks, intrigued, thinking of getting one. “Sorry for the diversion. I’m just surprised to see such a cool device in the office of a language professor. No offense.” “Yes, it was a personal gift from my students,” Matan explains. “I’m an amateur archaeologist who volunteers on many local digs. All the items found in Israel must go to the Israel Antiquities Authority, the IAA. They allow me to scan the original item and print out a token of my find,” he says, pointing to dozens of items around his office. “Now, you said you needed something translated.” “Yes, an old wooden panel found at Mar Jaris, written by the founder,” Loir explains. Derek reaches into his backpack to pull out the board wrapped in a soft cloth and hands it to the professor, who sits at his desk to unwrap it gently. “The wood certainly looks rather old. If you are willing, we can take a tiny sample to carbon date the age,” he suggests as he puts on a pair of glasses, then gloves, and pulls over a large magnifying glass with a light. Derek looks at Mordecai, who nods in agreement. “Carbon dating sounds like a great idea.” If someone created the panel after the life of Sabas, then it’s a fake. Matan sits to examine the panel while voices drop into an anxious silence. “Fascinating, the writing uses an ancient form of proto-Hebrew,” Matan notes as he continues to study the plank. “How would a fourth-century monk know how to write sixth-century BCE Hebrew?” Loir waves his hand for the others to stay silent. After a moment, Matan flips over the panel, and his jaw drops. He lifts his head with wide eyes. “Where did you find this wood? This can’t be genuine.” Derek and Loir look to Mordechai, who takes a deep breath. “Our tradition teaches that Father Sabas, founder of our monastery, discovered a copper scroll buried near the ruins by the Dead Sea. He wrote to the pope about his discovery, but the church was in upheaval, and the pope never responded. Warned by God in a dream, Father Sabas made a copy of the scroll before he reburied it,” Mordechai explains. “What does it say?” questions Loir, reacting to the excitement in Matan’s eyes. “The panel speaks of the first copper scroll hidden in a cave that leads to temple treasure, then provides directions from the Hill of Kokhlit to where the prophet Jeremiah hid the Ark of Testimony. Sit, sit, I will explain,” he points to stacks of file boxes as chairs. Astounded, Derek finds himself pulled into the mystery, momentarily distracted from his real purpose, or maybe distracted from his utter failure to f ind SLVIA. “The Temple Institute has been preparing for the Holy Temple and the coming of Moshiach since 1967. This could be a significant sign that the time grows near,” Loir says. Derek turns to Mordechai with a questioning look. “The Hebrew word for messiah,” the boy explains in a whisper. Matan continues. “The book of Maccabees states: Jeremiah came and found a cave-dwelling, and he brought there the tent, and the ark, and the altar of incense, then he sealed up the entrance.” T he old bookstore geek giggles like a schoolboy, wiggling on his box. “After they hid the ark, the scribes attempted to retrace the landmarks, but the prophet forbade them, saying: The place is to remain unknown until God gathers his people together again and shows them mercy. Then the Lord will disclose these things, and the glory of the Lord will be seen in the cloud,” recites Loir. “The time of the third temple must indeed be near.” On the drive to the university, Derek learned Loir was a leading member of the Temple Institute, a group of passionate advocates for the rebuilding of the Third Jewish Temple on the Temple Mount–ironically, a group and a view that is not all that popular in Israel. Most of the population is secular or non religious. “Once again, Loir, you get ahead of yourself and God,” Matan replies. “No one wants a temple if it brings more war.” “You mean this panel will guide you to find the Ark of the Covenant, like in Indiana Jones?” Derek ponders how this may connect to SLVIA, but it’s vague and unlikely. “No,” corrects Matan. “The Ark of Testimony. There were two arks made. The first at the direction of Moses in the wilderness, made of acacia wood, overlaid with gold, which held the manna, Aaron’s rod, and the holy commandments. Solomon made the second Ark of the Covenant of pure gold for the first temple. That ark was likely taken into Babylon, but no one knows for sure.” “I saw a Graham Hancock special years ago who claimed the ark was in Ethiopia,” Derek questions. “He sounded legit.” Derek sent Nelson to get a scan of the ark to know precisely what the genuine ark looks like or if it even exists. Now he wonders if it was accidental misdirection. “The African ark was a duplicate, a gift,” Loir explains. “A duplicate?” he questions. “You mean a replica?” “Yes, of course, the temple priests would never send the true ark to Egypt,” Loir debates. “OK, there were three arks made, and temple priests used all three in worship, but none are like the one made by Moses, empowered with the presence of Elohim.” “Loir, before you get excited, we have no starting point,” says Matan. “There is no hill called Kokhlit in Jerusalem. For over sixty years, men have searched Jerusalem for the temple treasure clues revealed in the first copper scroll which mentioned the same mysterious hill, but without success. Without a starting point, the entire idea is a fantasy.” “No, no, don’t you remember the American who came to Israel a decade ago? A man named Jim Barfield? He wrote a book. He discovered all the locations from the first copper scroll in Qumran,” Loir says. “I heard the IAA debunked that theory,” Matan replies. “No, no, it was Palestinian politics, as always,” Loir counters. “Qumran sits within the West Bank. To excavate would be a political nightmare, forcing all the treasure into an IDF warehouse. The IAA didn’t want treasure hunters checking out the rumors.” “Of course, no one wants a temple,” Matan argues. “It would be politically impossible.” In Derek’s mind, the politics of Israel have a special connection to the Concilium and the Sefer HaBahir. An extremely obscure connection, maybe even imaginary, but a connection. “I’m a tad curious. Would it be possible to visit Qumran?” he questions. “If we leave now, we can be there before dark,” Loir replies. Derek has all but given up any idea of finding the SLVIA, but his curiosity has been more than a little aroused. SLVIA had warned that construction of the third temple was the next key prophetic event, but never explained why. Although he discounted the conclusion, this new ark thread may play into that scenario. He’s grasping at vapor while a friend is hurting, but it will only delay his departure by a few more hours. The rabbit hole into lunacy is a slippery slope, dragging him deeper. Derek allows the slide as a distraction from his failure.