Babylon rising: the secret on Ararat Page 14
Now Murphy was putting the drunken-man techniques to the ultimate test as he swayed about the ring like a man who could hardly put one foot in front of the other. And by rights the pounding he'd already had should have turned him into jelly. But by willing his body into total looseness, he was surprised to find how easy it was to absorb the punishment the giant was handing out.
"When you go out, get very drunk, you don't know how you get home. You keep falling down, bump into lampposts, walls, everything. But when you wake up next day, everything fine! No broken bones! Maybe just a bad headache. This is the secret of the drunken man," Li had told him.
"I'm afraid I don't drink anything stronger than root beer," Murphy had responded. "So I'll just have to take your word for it."
But if I get out of this alive , Murphy thought to himself, dinner's on me next week, Terence, that's for sure .
Murphy got slowly to his feet, reaching out to grab
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one of the ropes to steady himself, his other hand hanging limply at his side. The giant was beaming as he slowly circled the ring, striking bodybuilder poses and waving to the nonexistent crowd. Quite an act , Murphy thought. Let's hope he's bought mine. Next time I figure he's in for the kill .
As if reading Murphy's thoughts, the giant spun round and fixed him with an evil leer. Murphy swallowed hard. Away to his right, he could hear a slow hand-clap.
This is it .
Murphy groaned theatrically as the giant pushed back against the ropes on the far side of the ring, filled his lungs, and began his charge. One, two, three enormous strides and he was speeding like a runaway train. Murphy held his breath, waited for the last possible split second, then danced to his left and spun around, his right leg whirling in a wide arc so that his heel connected with the back of the giant's head. Not expecting any resistance, the giant was taken completely by surprise, and the perfectly directed kick added just enough momentum to his headlong charge to lift him off his feet and out of the ring. As he sailed over the ropes, Murphy could tell that he'd already lost consciousness.
The thunderous crash as he landed in a pile of chairs was just the icing on the cake.
There was a screech as Methuselah scooted away from the crash site and made for one of the exits.
With his last breath Murphy shouted after him, "These things are always faked, Methuselah! Didn't you know?"
A door slammed and Murphy sank to the canvas.
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This time he wasn't pretending. Note to self, he thought: The next time one of Methuselah's packages landed on his desk, it'd be Returned to Sender, Address Unknown. He didn't know how many more of the old man's surprises his body could take, but there had to be a limit. Especially since this time he'd been suckered into performing purely for Methuselah's entertainment.
On the way back to his car, Murphy was amazed to find that the drunken-man technique really had spared him any major injury. He knew he'd be hurting for a day or two, but at least there were no actual dislocations, just a few muscle pulls and bruises.
On the drive home, Murphy had plenty of time to think about the strange wrestling bout. It did seem as if Methuselah had finally stopped playing by even his own twisted rules. After all, Murphy had won the bout fair and square--something Methuselah obviously hadn't been expecting since he didn't hang around to give Murphy his prize. Weird. Very weird.
Unless Murphy had already been given it.
He started to go over every detail again in his mind. The Promised Land. So they were talking Old Testament. Then what? Of course--the sketch. An angel with outspread wings. Okay, an Old Testament angel. That didn't narrow it down much.
So what else did he know?
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in frustration. Maybe the drawing meant something else. He should have kept it, looked at it more closely. He'd gone ten rounds with a homicidal giant, and all the time--
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That was it! Of course! The wrestling match. Who'd wrestled with an angel in the Old Testament?
Jacob.
And what did Jacob have to do with Noah's Ark? Murphy's mind was in high gear now. What else could it be but the Monastery of St. Jacob, the one at the foot of Mount Ararat?
Murphy pulled over at a gas station and called Isis on his cell phone.
She seemed pleased to hear his voice. "I've been training hard, Murphy. You better watch out when we get to Ararat. I'll race you to the top--loser buys dinner."
Murphy grinned. "I seem to be buying everyone dinner now."
"How come?"
"Never mind. Listen, could you go over to the National Archives and the Library of Congress and see what you can find out about St. Jacob of Nisibis and the Monastery of St. Jacob in Turkey?"
"No problem. Why?"
"I'm not sure," Murphy replied. "But it could be important."
When he got back to his office Shari had already left. Murphy began to pore over his books and manuscripts relating to Noah's Ark, searching for any references to St. Jacob. He already knew that the monastery had been destroyed by the earthquake of 1840. It had been buried by a landslide from the Ahora Gorge. All of the ancient books and manuscripts, as well as the artifacts, had been destroyed.
It was late in the afternoon when his phone rang.
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"Michael! I did a search on St. Jacob and the monastery. There wasn't much, I'm afraid."
Murphy's heart sank. Had he followed the wrong clues?
"But I did find one rather interesting book on the travels of Sir Reginald Calworth, written in 1836. In one chapter he mentions visiting the Monastery of St. Jacob and talking with a Bishop Kartabar. It seems that the bishop allowed him to look at the ancient manuscripts in their library. He also was taken to a special room where what he calls the treasures from Noah's Ark were kept. The book mentions that there were over fifty items that the priests claimed came off the ark."
Murphy whistled, trying to imagine what the items could possibly have been.
"But that's not the best part," Isis went on. "Calworth makes a passing comment that caught my eye. He says, and let me quote, After we left the room of treasures, the Bishop told me he had sent some of the manuscripts and artifacts to the town of Erzurum in the care of priests."
"Is that it? He doesn't say where in Erzurum?"
"No. From there Sir Reginald goes back to describing the local flora and fauna, the culture of the local people, the weather, et cetera."
"Erzurum," Murphy repeated. "Maybe the secrets aren't on the mountain at all."
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TWENTY-TWO
"OKAY, YOU GUYS. Hand them over. And no funny business."
There was a ripple of laughter as the students filed past Murphy and handed in their assignments before going back to their seats in the lecture hall. He was impressed. Everybody seemed to have written something. Perhaps the subject of Noah's Ark and the Flood really had stirred their imaginations.
"Did any of you discover anything of interest that you would like to share with the group?"
A hand went up to the right of Murphy.
"Yes, Jerome!"
"Professor Murphy, I learned that Noah was the best financier in the Bible. He floated his entire stock while the whole world was in liquidation!"
Murphy smiled. Joking around was fine with him, as long as they could focus on the serious stuff as well. He
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was about to gently steer the conversation in that direction when Clayton, the class clown, piped up. If people were telling jokes, he wasn't going to get left on the sidelines.
"Professor Murphy, I found out that they didn't play cards on Noah's Ark. That was because Mrs. Noah sat on the deck!"
The whole class groaned.
"Well," Murphy said. "If you spent as much time and effort on your assignment as you did on your jokes ... we're in trouble!" He waited for the laughter to die down. "Does anyone have anything on more of a serious nature? Yes, Jill!"
"Profe
ssor Murphy, I was amazed to discover that around the world scientists have found fossils of sea creatures high in the mountains. This gives credibility to the concept of a universal flood that covered all the mountains of the earth."
He nodded. "Sam, you have a comment?"
"Yes. In my research I found out, like Jill, that sea fossils were found in the mountains near Ararat at the ten-thousand-foot level. That's over three hundred miles inland from the Persian Gulf."
Another hand went up.
"I read that fossils of sand dollars and clams have been found behind the Dogubayazit Hotel at the five-thousand-foot level. Dogubayazit is the town at the foot of Mount Ararat. The article went on to say that the ministers of the interior and defense of Turkey say that fossils like sea horses, and other fossils of ocean origin have been found as high as fourteen thousand feet on Mount Ararat."
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"Professor Murphy! I found some information that Nicholas Van Arkle, a Dutch glaciologist, took pictures of fish and seashells near the ark rock on the western rim of the Ahora Gorge on Mount Ararat."
Hands were beginning to be raised all over the lecture hall. Murphy nodded to himself in quiet satisfaction. Their imaginations had been stirred, all right.
Don West raised his hand.
"Professor Murphy. I tried to follow the various flood stories that are mentioned around the world. I was amazed to find that there are over five hundred different stories about a worldwide flood. I think that The Epic of Gilgamesh is the most famous."
"You're right, Don, it is. It's amazingly similar to the biblical account of the Flood. In fact, I have prepared a paper for you that gives a comparison."
Shari passed out the sheet to the students.
Genesis
Gilgamesh
Extent of flood
Global
Global
Cause
Man's wickedness
Man's sins
Intended for whom?
All mankind
One city & all mankind
Sender
Yahweh [God]
Assembly of "gods"
Name of hero
Noah
Utnapishtim
Hero's character
Righteous
Righteous
Means of announcement
Direct from God
In a dream
Ordered to build boat?
Yes
Yes
Did hero complain?
Yes
Yes
Height of boat
Several stories
Several stories
182 Compartments inside
Many
Many
Doors
One
One
Windows
At least one
At least one
Outside coating
Pitch
Pitch
Shape of boat
Rectangular
Square
Human passengers
Family members
Family & few friends
Other passengers
All species of animals
All species of animals
Means of flood
Ground water / rain
Heavy rain
Duration of flood
40 days & nights
Short 6 days & nights
Test to find land
Release of birds
Release of birds
Types of birds
Raven & 3 doves
Dove, swallow, raven
Ark landing spot
Mount Ararat
Mount Nisir
Sacrificed after flood
Yes, by Noah
Yes, by Utnapishtim
Blessed after flood
Yes
Yes
As they read, Murphy continued. "The Epic of Gilgamesh was discovered by a British bank clerk named George Smith in 1872. In his spare time he translated four-thousand-year-old cuneiform tablets that were dug up in the old Assyrian capital of Nineveh near the Persian Gulf. During his ten years of labor he discovered the Gilgamesh story about a character named Utnapishtim. As you can see, it was very similar to the biblical story.
"Now, in addition to the Gilgamesh story, there are many, many countries throughout the world where the story of a global flood has been passed down from one generation to another. While the specific details of these traditions may differ, there is no escaping that each of
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these cultures holds to a belief in a global flood occurring at some point in the past. I have made a partial list of the countries and peoples and ancient writers where these flood traditions exist. Shari, would you please pass this out?"
MIDDLE EAST & AFRICA
Babylon
Bapedi
Central Africa
Chaldea
Egypt
Hottentots
Jumala Tribe
Lower Congo
Masai Tribe
Otshi Tribe
Persia
Syria
PACIFIC ISLANDS
Alamblack Tribe
Alfoors of Ceram
Ami
Andaman Islands
Australia
Bunva
Dutch New Guinea
East Indian Island
Engano
Falwol Tribe
Fiji
Flores Island
Formosa
Hawaii
Kabidi Tribe
Kurnai Tribe
Leeward Islands
Maoris
Melanesia
Micronesia
Nais
New Britain
Otheite Island
Ot-Danoms
Polynesia
Queensland
Rotti Tribe
Samoa
Sea Dyaks
Sumatra
Tahiti
Toradjas
Valman Tribe
FAR EAST
Bahnara
Bengal Kohl
Benua-Jakun
Bhagavata
China
Cigpaws
India
Karens
Mahabharata
Matsya
Sudan
Tartary Mongols
EUROPE & ASIA
Apamea
Apollodorus
Athenian
Celts
Cos
Crete
Diodorus
Druids
Finland
Hellenucus
Iceland
Lapland
Lithuania
Lucian
Megaros
Norway
Ogyges
Ovid
Perirrhoos
Pindar
Plato
Plutarch
Rhodes
Romania
Russia
Samothrace
Siberia
Sithnide
Thessalonica
Transylvania
Wales
NORTH AMERICA
Acagchemens
Aleutian Indians
Algonquins
Appalachian Indians
Araphos
Arctic Eskimos
Athapascans
Blackfoot Indians
Cherokees
Chippewas
Cree
Dogribs
Eleuts
Flatheads
Greenland
Iroquois
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Mandans
Nez Perces
Pimas
Thlinkuts
Yakimas
CENTRAL AMERICA
Aztecs
Antilles
Canaries
Cuba
Mayas
Mexico
Muratos
Nicaragua
Panama Indians
Toltecs
>
SOUTH AMERICA
Abederys
Achawols
Arawaks
Brazil
Calngans
Carayas
Incas
Macusls
Maypures
Orinoco Indians
Pamarys
Tamanacs
"As you can see, there are many groups around the world that have a flood tradition in their culture."
As Murphy was speaking, several people entered the lecture hall. He recognized two of his students, who were late and were entering sheepishly. The third person he thought he recognized. He was a tall man with very strong features. He was wearing a well-cut blue pinstripe suit. Murphy followed the athletic figure as he moved to the back of the auditorium. He leaned against the wall and faced the front. When he took off his sunglasses, Murphy could see his gray eyes even at a distance.
I know him. What's his name?
Murphy's attention was brought back to the front row. Paul Wallach had his hand raised. Shari looked a little apprehensive.
"Yes, Paul."
"Couldn't these different people have gotten similar stories from their relatives who may have traveled to another country? Or perhaps, couldn't some missionary have told them about the Flood and that is the reason they have flood stories?"