Gates of Hades

Preface

A Thought

Metaphor – a figure of speech in which a word or phrase literally denoting one kind of object or idea is used in place of another to suggest a likeness or analogy between them (as in drowning in money).

Metaphors were used throughout the entire Christian Bible. But no one, in my opinion, made greater use of them than Christ Jesus. I especially like the statement, Thou are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church. Many people see only one metaphor in this famous statement. I see four.

The first is the word Peter. Jesus was not really giving that apostle a new name. In fact, in the previous verse, Jesus referred to him as Simon, son of Jonah. Many other times in the gospels, Jesus referred to him by his real name. In the Greek, Jesus really said, Simon, you are petros meaning a small stone.

The second metaphor is upon this rock. This time, Jesus was not referring to Simon Peter. The Greek word here is petra meaning a massive rock. He was referring to Himself, and the fact that He was the Christ, the Son of the living God.

The third metaphor is I will build. Jesus was a builder, a carpenter, a stone mason by trade. But he was really saying that a new faith would evolve based on the fact that He was the Christ. But it could not happen until that future time in Jerusalem when He would be killed and then rise again on the third day. When Jesus revealed this to his disciples, Simon Peter rebuked Him. And then Jesus said to him, Get behind me, Satan. You are a stumbling block to me. As we see here, Jesus had many metaphoric names for Simon Peter.

And the last metaphor I see is my church. The Greek word is ekklesia meaning to call out. In itself, it implied that a gathering of people would be called forth. Did you know that this word church appears only twice in the gospels? Evidently, it was not a popular word at all with Jesus.

So if we now attempted to translate the sentence without metaphors, it would read: Simon, you are a pebble, but the truth you just spoke about me is a massive rock. That truth will cause a gathering of people to be called forth. It’s not nearly as dramatic as the wording of the scripture, but more accurate to the original message.

Most Christians, especially preachers and teachers, love the many metaphors in the Bible. And their colorful and varied explanations occupy much discussion and pulpit time. And, not to exclude myself, I just wrote about a page based on a dozen word sentence. But the real truth of the matter is that only Jesus knows what He really meant by that famous statement.

I wrote all the above so I could ask this question. What if Jesus was not speaking metaphorically at all? What if he was speaking accurately to the situation at hand and the physical surroundings at the time? Let’s look at that picture.

Near the end of Jesus’ three year ministry, He and a weary band of fugitive followers were hiding out in the mountains north of Galilee. The nearby resort city was Caesarea Philippi. The caves and springs at the base of Mt. Hermon had been the site of demon cult worship for thousands of years. The different civilizations that previously conquered that territory had all built shrines there to the gods of the underworld. One of the caves was even believed to be the very entrance to Hell. It was called the Gates of Hades.

The time was fast approaching when Jesus must complete the work he was sent to do. He must begin the final journey to Jerusalem and the fate that awaited Him there. But first, He must prepare his disciples for the bad news. He knew they would not take it well. So he had brought them to that place to prepare them and Himself for that great trial.

So far, my facts are according to scripture. But now I will begin to expand on what could have happened next since scripture does not give us the specifics.

Jesus took his followers into the cave known as the Gates of Hades. It led them downward into the earth until they reached a large underground room. This was a crude temple used by the priests of the demon cults. It was a sacred place for Baal worshipers in Old Testament times. There was an opening on the far side which continued on into Hades. In the middle of the temple floor was a large pool of spring water. In the center of the pool was a large rock shaped like a pillow. It was known as the rock upon which Lucifer landed when he was cast out of heaven.

They gathered around the pool, and Jesus asked them who do other say He is. After they answered, He asked them who do they say He is. Of course, the ever bold Simon answered that He was the Christ, the Son of the living god. Jesus gave Simon a blessing and then He stepped into the pool. All the men except Simon jumped backwards when the pool suddenly began to boil and flames shot up from the water. Then Jesus reached in the water and took out a small stone. He handed it to Simon and said, You are like this small stone in comparison to the great truth you just proclaimed. That truth is like this great rock.

Then Jesus stepped upon the rock known as Lucifer’s Pillow and said, Upon this truth I will build my church. Then, lifting up his right foot, he smashed his heel against the massive rock. Again and again he smashed the rock with his heel. The disciples watched in horror as the water boiled and the center of the rock crumbled away. Then Jesus shouted, The Gates of Hades shall not prevail against this truth!

Then the walls of the cave began to shake. Large rocks began to fall all around them. They cried out in fear and begged Jesus to save them. And suddenly the tremors ceased, and the water became calm. Jesus pointed to the now sealed entrance into the place called Hades.

Jesus limped from the pool. Simon went quickly to his side and saw that His foot was bruised and bleeding. He quickly bound the wounded foot to stop the bleeding. Jesus consoled the frightened men by saying, You have just witnessed the partial fulfillment of ancient prophesy concerning me and Satan. Moses wrote in Genesis that I will crush the head of Satan, and he will bruise my heel.

Then Jesus turned to Simon and whispered, I have given you the keys of the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. You hold in your hand the Prophet’s Stone. Guard it well and the Gates of Hades will not be opened.

Simon felt the stone grow hot in the palm of his hand. Then he said, It will be as you command, Master.

When the others asked Jesus about the prophesy He spoke of, He began to explain to them that He must begin the journey back to Jerusalem. And there, He would suffer many things, then be executed, and on the third day be raised to life. Then the prophesy he spoke of would be fulfilled.

Simon Peter kept the promise he made concerning the Prophet’s Stone. And when he died, it was passed on to others to protect. Even today, it remains hidden in a secret place far from the Gates of Hades.

Using this version of what might have happened that day 2,000 years ago, I have written a modern day adventure story about the search for the Prophet’s Stone and Lucifer’s Pillow. What will happen if the two are finally brought together at the Gates of Hades?

Read on and find out!

Frederick B. Downs

31 October 2005

Reformation Day

All Saints Day

Halloween

— Chapter 1 —

Day One

For over five years, the World Order Church had been secretly accomplishing superior dominance in the area of cult worship. Missionaries had been sent throughout the world to organize new churches. New members were being added to their roles every week. Most major cities of Europe, Africa, and America reported tremendous growth in new construction and financial support. And now their supreme leader, Calvin Shaker, could give them the spiritual sign he had promised. The sign that would allow the World Order Church to finally become the most powerful religious and political movement ever known. Soon he would possess the sacred rock called Lucifer’s Pillow.

A select team of Shaker’s security division were on site at the ancient monastery in Paneas, Syria. They had entered the grounds posing as religious tourists. Their leader was an American ex-military named Frank Keen.

I’m sorry sir, but that section of the monastery is restricted to visitors, explained the young monk-in-training. But when he turned around to proceed with the tour, one of the group had a large gun pointed at his face.

Cooperate or die! said the man with the gun. The monk nodded agreement. Take me to the office of the keeper of the seal. The monk pointed in the direction of the restricted area. Within minutes, the group was standing outside a large locked door. The sign on the door read: RESTRICTED AREA. NO ADMITTANCE WITHOUT WRITTEN AUTHORIZATION.

The monk knocked on the door as the others stood to one side in the shadows. A small access panel opened, and a voice from behind the door said, Do you have written authorization?

No sir. I am here at the request of Father Saul. He wishes to speak with you on an urgent matter. I am here to escort you to the meeting, explained the young monk according to the instructions given him by the intruders.

One moment please, said the voice behind the door. Then the door opened, and the old monk walked out. Immediately he was surrounded by the intruders. Sensing danger, he tried to retreat back into his chambers, but his path was blocked. The last thing he remembered was a foul smelling cloth placed over his nose and mouth. Sometime later, he awoke to find himself tied to a chair. One of the intruders was standing over him. Nearby was the young monk, lying motionless on the floor, bound and gagged with heavy-duty tape.

The young monk will die unless you reveal to me the entrance to the vault of secrets, said their leader Frank Keen.

I have sworn an oath not to reveal the entrance to the vault of secrets. And it is far too dangerous for a novice to even attempt. Please leave this place and no harm will come to you.

Frank walked over to the young monk and then dropped to the floor beside him. He quickly took out a knife and slashed the left wrist of the young monk. Blood gushed from the severed artery onto the floor.

Your young friend has only a few minutes to live unless I bind his wound. This will not happen unless you cooperate with us. And if he bleeds to death, I will have my men gather up some more of your brothers.

The old monk closed his eyes in silent prayer. After a short pause, he whispered, Forgive me, Father, for my weakness. Then with a look of anger, he shouted, Save my young brother! Then I will show you what you seek!

* * *

At the evening meal, several of the monks took notice that their old brother’s chair was empty. But they didn’t become worried until later at the evening prayer service. They knew that he sometimes skipped a meal but never a prayer service. Several of his concerned brothers went to the sleeping quarters to check on him. When they saw his bed still made, they proceeded to his office in the restricted area.

After repeated knocks on the door, they yelled out to him. No response. Then one of them turned the door handle and was shocked to see the huge door open. They shouted into the darkened room. Again, only silence. Then they heard a muffled sound from across the room. One of them found the light switch and flipped it on. The room was flooded with light. They stood at the door in shocked silence at the sight before them. Most of the sparse furnishings of the office were thrown in a heap in the middle of the floor. Then they saw where the muffled cry was coming from. Both men rushed forward thinking their old friend was seriously injured. But when they removed the hood from his face, they were again shocked by the sight before them.

When the tape was removed from the young monk’s mouth, one of them asked, What in God’s name has happened here?

We have been attacked by intruders posing as tourists. They forced me to bring them to this office. Then they drugged me after gaining entrance.

Where is the old monk who worked in this office?

I don’t know. Are you sure he’s not here? asked the young monk as he tried to sit up. Feeling a sharp pain in his left wrist, he flinched. Looking at the blood now dripping from his hand, he cried, Holy Father, am I about to die?

Relax, my young brother. You have a cut on your arm and have lost some blood. You will live.

Stay with our brother while I go for help, said one of the monks.

Find Father Saul first. He needs to decide how best to proceed with this. I’m afraid the vault of secrets may have been compromised.

What is the vault of secrets? asked the young monk as he closely examined the wound on his hand.

Something more terrible than you can imagine.

— Chapter 2 —

Day Two

Anthony James began this morning like every morning, with a cup of herb tea and a stack of emails. Halfway through his tea and the stack of papers, he sat upright in his chair. The message before him read:

CODE RED

Paneas Monastery

Syria

The keeper of the seal is missing and believed to have been captured by enemy forces. The vault of secrets has been compromised. Send help ASAP.

Your friend in Christ

Father Saul

Walking past the secretary’s desk, he said to her, Any incoming message marked Code Red means that I need to see it immediately!

I’m sorry sir, but all of those papers came in last night after we left. You arrived before I had time to review them, yelled the secretary to Anthony, now already fifty paces down the hall.

Within minutes he was tapping on the bedroom door of his partner, Malcolm Harper. This better be important, said a loud voice behind the door. Not waiting for the old man to get dressed, Anthony used his key to enter the bedroom. As he approached the bed, Malcolm rose up and groaned. What world shaking event is disturbing my rest now?

If you went to bed at a proper time, you would already be up by now, smiled Anthony.

I go to bed early enough. I just don’t go to sleep until the middle of the night. What’s the problem? I know you wouldn’t disturb me unless it was serious.

Read this and then let’s discuss a course of action.

Anthony walked to the intercom and pressed the first of many buttons.

Yes, Mr. Harper, said a sexy young voice.

This is Mr. James, Susan. Please bring juice and your steno pad.

Would you like juice too?

Yes, please and hurry. Turning back to Malcolm, he said, When are you going to grow up and get a professional to assist you?

Never, I hope. And I already have you to take care my professional duties. Susan takes care of other matters, smiled Malcolm.

Well, what do you make of the message?

Who can we get over there fast with the right expertise and that we can trust? asked Malcolm.

Returning to the intercom, Anthony pushed the second button. Mr. James’ office. Can I help you?

Beth, this is Mr. James. I am with Mr. Harper. We need a list of names for a special mission to Syria. Ask the computer who is available with the following qualifications: One- under forty. Two- single. Three – working knowledge of the middle east. Four – versed in Judeo-Christian religion. Five – available for travel now. One moment please. Turning to Malcolm, he asked, What else?

Beth, we need someone with a background in geology and medicine. If you can’t find one person with both qualifications, then make two lists.

We need this ASAP, said Anthony as he pushed the off button. He turned to see that Susan had entered the room carrying a tray with a small pitcher of juice, two glasses, and a tray of cookies. She leaned over the side of the bed just enough to expose her breasts to Malcolm. Glancing over to Anthony, Malcolm smiled and gave his best eyebrow imitation of Groucho Marx.

Thank you, my dear.

Susan smiled, What else would you like, sir?

Before Malcolm had a chance to begin their morning tease, Anthony said, Take a message, Susan. Smiling, she picked up her memo pad and turned to him. Have the private jet prepare for immediate departure. Tell them a flight plan will be delivered within the hour. Then call our treasurer and have him start the transfer of $400,000 to our account in Tel Aviv. We will furnish him authorization names later in the day. Anything else? asked Anthony turning to Malcolm.

I’m afraid we will have to postpone the massage and bath until later, my dear, smiled Malcolm. Giving him a sensuous look, she whispered something in his ear and then hurried out the door.

One day, she is going to give you a heart attack, scowled Anthony.

Yes, but what a way to go.

* * *

A short time later, Beth knocked on the bedroom door. When Anthony opened it, she said, None of the candidates met all the criteria, so the computer gave us two lists. Will there be anything else, sir?

Cancel all my appointments for the day. Reschedule them for next week, if possible. And if any more Code Reds come in from Syria, get them to me immediately.

Yes sir, Mr. James.

Anthony handed one copy of the lists to Malcolm. Both men sat in silence, intensely studying the information before them. One list contained five names of men with similar professional backgrounds. The second list contained only two names, a man and a woman. It was Malcolm that spoke first, I like the woman on the short list. She has excellent credentials and is quite attractive for a medical doctor and scientist. Yes, I definitely think she fits the bill.

Anthony looked up from his list and shook his head. Six men and one woman to choose from, and you immediately pick the woman. But in this case, I have to agree with you. Of the two, she is the better qualified. And on the first list?

Well, I can’t decide between numbers two and five. Which do you like?

Number five is my first choice. If he just had a little more medical experience, we could probably get by with only one. Did you catch the significance of the name? asked Anthony.

Brigham Uriah Smith. It sounds like he is a Mormon, but the record indicates no religious preference. However, his recently deceased father was an ordained minister. Perhaps the family belongs to one of those non-denominational churches. They are getting quite popular these days.

Well then, let’s go with Mr. Smith and Ms. Constancia Bolivar. How much do you wish them to know about the overall mission?

Malcolm was silent for a moment as he pondered the question. Their mission is to investigate the possible loss of valuable religious artifacts and the disappearance of the monk responsible for their safekeeping. That’s all they need to know for now.

I agree. This may be nothing more than a minor crime by a local opportunist trying to turn a profit. But if it turns out to be more, then we will have to brief them on the possible dangers, said Anthony as he walked towards the door.

Keep me informed on your progress. And tell Susan I wish to see her now.

— Chapter 3 —

Brigham Smith was sitting on the porch of his mountain log cabin enjoying the sounds of nature and a hot cup of coffee. This was the third day of a long over due and well deserved vacation. He smiled as he remembered the party last night at the Indian village in the nearby valley. His good friend, Johnny Big Tree, had introduced him to the newly arrived animal vet, Cathy Red Feather. One thing led to another, and both had ended up together at his place after the party. That gal is sure strong for her size, he thought. Must be from working with all those horses and cows and buffalos. What a night and what a woman!

Brigham Uriah Smith had just celebrated his thirty sixth birthday. For the last eight years, he had worked as a geologist with Harper Petroleum in the Fuel Exploration Division. The work had allowed him to travel over much of the world. He had spent time in Canada, Alaska, Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Venezuela, the North Sea, and the Middle East. Next stop would be the new fields opening up in the war torn countries of southern Russia. But not until he had his thirty days of fun. He and Johnny Big Tree were leaving tomorrow for a week of trout fishing in the high mountain streams of northern New Mexico. But this day would be his and Cathy Red Feather’s to enjoy – a nice birthday present.

Just then his cell phone began to ring from inside the cabin. Uttering a few choice words of disapproval, Brigham ran through the open entrance door. He got to the phone on the third ring but too late. Cathy was already sitting up in bed with the phone to her ear. The sun’s rays reflected off her nude breasts as her soft voice said, Dr. Red Feather here. How may I help you?

This is Anthony James, calling for Mr. Brigham Smith. Is this his cell number?

Without answering, she handed the phone to Brigham and whispered, Sorry about that. Forgot where I was for a moment. Then she rolled out of bed and walked slowing towards the bathroom. She turned and smiled at him before closing the bathroom door, her beautiful nude body framed like a picture in the doorway.

Hello, this is Brigham Smith.

Mr. Smith, Anthony James of Harper Oil. Sorry to disturb your vacation, but a serious emergency has occurred. We will need a few days of your time.

There was a long pause as Brigham clinched his teeth in anger. He would have just hung up the phone if it had been anyone else but the main headquarters. Why was the number two man of Harper Oil calling him? He was a nobody in the corporate scheme of things. I can’t imagine why you would need my services. Tell me the emergency, and perhaps I can recommend the right person for the job.

We have made a detailed computer search of the candidates, and you are by far the best qualified for the mission at hand. It involves the plunder of some ancient Christian relics near our oil reserves in southwestern Syria. I believe you spent time in the area about two years ago. Do you recall the old Christian Monastery at Paneas?

Yes sir, I surveyed the site for possible damage by our drilling teams. The natural caves and springs in that area are quite extensive. Have our folks caused some damage to their religious shrines? asked Brigham as his mind kicked into high gear. Within seconds he had a mental picture of the grounds surrounding the ancient monastery.

No damage by our people that we are aware of. However, that is one of the things we wish you to investigate. The monastery has requested our help in resolving the break-in. Also, one of the monks is missing, believed to be connected to the incident. Harper Oil is the primary contributor for the maintenance of the monastery and their religious shrines. Mr. Harper has taken a personal interest in this one. Plus, we could use the good will our presence will generate with all the current terrorist activities in the area, explained Anthony.

How long do I have?

A helicopter is en route now for the Indian village below your cabin. It will take you to the airport at Santa Fe. Our private jet will fly you to Atlanta for the international flight to Tel Aviv. Tomorrow morning, you should be on site at the monastery. Also, you will be met in Atlanta by Dr. Constancia Bolivar of the International Health Corporation. She is the second member of our investigative team.

You owe me big time for this one, joked Brigham.

You can count on it, Mr. Smith, Give my apologies to Dr. Red Feather and happy birthday.

* * *

Paging Dr. Bolivar. Paging Dr. Bolivar. You have a message at the lobby reception desk, blasted the speakers at the resort pool. Connie Bolivar, resting in a lounge chair after her jog on the beach, felt the adrenalin start to flow through her body. How many times during her medical internship and residency had she heard that same summons? And it usually meant that a sick child was about to die from one of the fatal diseases that she was treating at the time. But that couldn’t possibly be the case here, she thought. Not here, at this fabulous Bahamas resort where she arrived just yesterday.

Connie wrapped a beach towel around her, picked up her bag, and hurried towards the lobby. The young man at the desk smiled approvingly as he watched the beautiful doctor lady approaching. The bikini swimsuit really complimented her gorgeous figure, he judged. She looked more like a fashion model than a medical doctor to him.

Sorry about that Dr. Bolivar, but the caller was insistent that we find you. He said it is related to your work with the health organization. You may use the private phone to my right, smiled the clerk as he pointed to a small cubicle.

This is Dr. Bolivar. May I help you?

Doctor, this is Anthony James, special assistant to Malcolm Harper. You work for one of our organizations.

Yes, Mr. James. I know who you are. Is there a problem with one of our clinics?

No, but we are in dire need of your expertise. We have a crisis at a Syrian monastery.

Mr. James, I don’t mean to be rude, but I am at a beach resort in the Bahamas. I arrived here yesterday from a remote outpost in the Amazon where I spent the last six months treating a deadly outbreak of cholera. I need this time off!

No one is more deserving than you, my dear. And I would not ask if there were anyone else available. How’s this? We will double your vacation time and pay all expenses when this short crisis is over.

There was a long pause as Connie considered the proposal. So, you will give me six weeks expenses paid at the resort of my choice if I accept your mission? I’m listening.

It shouldn’t take more than a week or ten days at the most. You have worked at the refugee camps in southwest Syria near the town of Paneas. Well, the monastery at Paneas has suffered a break-in. One monk is missing and some valuable religious relics may be stolen. They have requested our help in resolving this crisis, and Mr. Harper has agreed to their request. We are the primary benevolent support of that monastery, explained Anthony.

This doesn’t sound like a medical crisis at all, Mr. James. Surely you can find someone better qualified than me for this one.

I can assure you, my dear, that it will require your linguistic expertise, your knowledge of Judeo-Christian religions, and your vast experience with communicable diseases. Trust me on this one.

Why do I feel like you are not telling me the whole story. So, what’s the timeline on this crisis?

A private plane is en route to pick you up within the hour. It will fly you to Atlanta for the international flight to Tel Aviv. You will be joined in Atlanta by one of our geologist, a Mr. Brigham Smith. Both of you should be on site at the monastery in the morning.

I will hold you to our agreement when this crisis, as you like to call it, is over, joked Connie.

And I am a man of my word. Good Luck and thank you, Dr. Bolivar.

— Chapter 4 —

It was noon in Atlanta. The private plane carrying Brigham had just arrived from Santa Fe. He was given directions to the VIP lounge where lunch would be served to him and a Dr. Constancia Bolivar. She arrived a short time ago on a flight from the Bahamas. Together they were booked