For surely you realize that this is NOT the end, but instead only The Beginning.
From afar I saw a road begin to take shape upon the devastated landscape – a highway of hope, and immediately I knew its name – for it had already been foretold by Isaiah as The Way of Holiness.
The Highway of Hope
All around the road, the earth was still smoldering from where it had been scorched by the Fires of Hell, but the newly forming highway was unblemished and soon the grounds in the immediate vicinity of the roadway began to be transformed as well.
From afar I saw people walking upon The Way — at first I wondered who they could be for I remembered that all of the wicked peoples had already been taken away and I knew they were not meant for The Way.
But then I realized that only the Redeemed would walk upon this highway, and only those ransomed by Christ could return.
Led by the Victorious Angels, the ranks of the pilgrims grew and as they approached New Zion; I could hear them rejoicing. Their white garments were gleaming with splendor; and yet still their numbers swelled. Although too many for me to count, I knew their number regardless: 144,000.
Joy had overtaken them as they returned to the source of Life and stood in front of The Great Altar.
And there stood Pope Benedict too – encouraging his flock to come forward and receive their Salvation.
I wondered how I could have ever doubted my friend Joseph’s loyalty to Christ, for although Lazarus, Mary, and I never did complete our Commission (at least not in the way we always envisioned it), it was Benedict who had emerged as our world’s true champion.
But then the blinding Whiteness washed out that scene and I was instead left with a multitude of hazy images.
Struggling to make sense of it, I caught only a glimpse of a few faces – yet all were smiling and at peace: Lazarus, Mary, Benedict, and yes even myself.
Lazarus
Mary Magdalene
Joseph Ratzinger
Me – John
Indeed, as I gazed upon the beautiful faces of my friends, and as I basked in the wonder that was my own restored visage, there is one more thing that I cannot fail to mention…
For above and around and in each of our faces there was also one other, and it was a face that I have been waiting to see for nearly 2,000 years…
The vision of that face overwhelmed me with Joy!
It was a glorious <presence> that my soul ran to with all its might.
It was He who accepted me completely — in peace – at last.
Despite the agony of my pain on the cross, I knew that death would not come easy.
With a nod, the man who was Ghaz al’ Ridwan Ma’bus signaled to The Pope to carry out his orders…
To deliver death to the immortals.
I watched as Benedict picked up one of three spears that were lying before the altar. Each of the weapons had one of the Nails of Jesus affixed to its head as a killing blade.
Spear in hand, and in full battle array, Pope Benedict looked like a legendary knight from the fantasy world as he proceeded to walk over towards the cross upon which Lazarus hung.
The Pope was ready for action
Standing beneath my friend’s limp body, Benedict waited only for a moment – as Lazarus’ blood dripped down and stained the pontiff’s white robe – and then the leader of the Church slammed his pike up and into Lazarus’ side.
“YAAAAAAAAAR!” Lazarus suddenly came to life, his arms and legs nearly ripping themselves away from the cross.
Closing my eyes against the gruesome sight, I failed to see that Lazarus’ screams woke Mary from her own snatch of death but my ears soon ached as I heard Miriam begin to wail. I opened my eyes in time to catch a glimpse of Benedict as he stoically twisted his spear up and into Lazarus’ heart – an action that abruptly ended Lazarus’ screams.
The Nail that killed Lazarus
My God, he’s dead! I panicked. It’s finally going to happen? But alas, Lord, I am NOT ready yet!
Believe it or not, I was suddenly afraid at the unknown of Death – a specter that hadn’t threatened me in nearly two thousand years.
In the silence that followed, I looked upon our unexpected Deliverer – after killing Lazarus Pope Benedict had removed his blood spattered helmet and I saw that face was as hard as stone. He appeared to study the Nail that was now dripping with Lazarus’s blood at the end of his lance.
<BOOOM! DOOM!> <BOOM! BOOM!> <DOOM!>
The drums started up again at a signal from Bates.
I watched as Benedict looked over at The Beast.
And then, I saw the Pope take a deep breath before doing something that I have never seen anyone other than myself or my two friends do…
Benedict reached up and took hold of The Nail.
“You Fool! Don’t touch it!” I roared, even as Mary screamed a similar warning.
Yet, Benedict did not die.
In fact, if nothing else, he seemed suddenly more alive!
Bates and Klaus Schwab began dancing around triumphantly at the sight – surely reading this as a sign of Bates’ coming victory – now confident that The Pope was indeed The Second Helper.
For his part, Benedict’s face remained hardset while he proceeded to tear the Nail off of the spear. Discarding the staff, he affixed the dripping Nail to his belt. Next I watched him proceed to confidently walk back towards the Altar and pick up another pike, before heading over towards his next victim.
Mary’s screams bespoke of sheer terror. Unable to look away this time, I watched Benedict prepare to deliver a deathblow to her as well.
“Oh, Babylon,” I roared out, suddenly finding new strength. “You will be destroyed!”
Hearing me quote from Psalm 137, for a moment Benedict paused, and I watched a strange shadow pass over his face.
“Happy is the one who pays you back for what you have done.” I tried to goad him away from Mary. “You shall be smashed against the rocks upon this very day.” Then, looking up to heaven, I cried, “Father, do not forsake us now!”
Yet, The Lord did not come to save the day.
And with Lazarus already dead and Mary soon to follow the skies only roiled blacker than before.
For The Moment had not yet arrived, and I knew that the Prophecies — my own prophecies – were still waiting to be fulfilled.
Pope Benedict knew this as well, and therefore he took only a moment to prepare himself to forge on – after which he pushed his spear into Mary’s heart, killing her as well.
Unable to control myself, I vomited up the last of the bile from my stomach – its acidity scorching my throat and mouth. Tears streamed down my face as I wailed in regret, “Their torture is because of me. My friends are paying the price of my sins!”
Yet Fate no longer cared about my feelings and in truth I knew that what was happening went far beyond my small part in this Divine Event.
And so, with two bloody Nails hanging from his corded belt and his robe now blotched red, Pope Benedict began to approach me with the final Nail – and his face was Death.
And so, the Dome at al-Aqsa remained, even unto this day, waiting, ever waiting. Waiting for The Beast.
My head jerked up as I suddenly remembered…
The Well of Souls — it lies beneath The Dome. If Ma’bus moves The Foundation Stone, The Well shall be opened – for the first time since Solomon hid the ark there. For the first time since…
Yet my strength failed me again, and that which I was trying to recall was lost.
<BOOOM! DOOM!> <BOOM! BOOM!> <DOOM!>
After a time, my unconscious mind remembered — a natural cave, The Well of Souls was originally accessible only by a narrow hole in the rock of this plateau.
It was I who inspired The Templar’s to hack open an entrance to the cave – yet in spite of my recommendations they would go no further. And so, the foundation stone of The Dome – The Sakhrah – remained untouched.
“If you open it, you’ll unleash The Abyss of Chaos!” I wailed, not realizing that I was suddenly screaming aloud — my voice somehow carrying even above The Drums.
<BOOOM! DOOM!> <BO–> The drums stopped.
The Masked Chosen looked up at me.
Pope Benedict and Klaus Schwab also present but unmasked like Bates, both looked up at me.
And Bates himself, standing at the Altar Of the One True God – upon which lay the gored body of Rabbi Yona Metzger – yes, Bill Bates as Ghaz al’ Ridwan Ma’bus, The Beast, also looked up at me.
The Beast wasn’t happy that I interrupted him.
There was Silence – and I felt as if all of creation was waiting for me to die.
Yet as I looked over to my left and saw Lazarus and Mary languishing on their own crosses, I knew that my friends were not yet dead either.
Then looking down at Bill Bates, I saw that The Beast also realized this fact… and smiled.
My vision about Lazarus’ Resurrection Day faded to black, yet my Sight continued.
Once more I found myself looking at the present day — my friends were apparently still on their flight to Rome and Miriam’s head continued to rest upon Alan’s shoulder.
But just as quickly, I remembered something else – an inkling of a memory of Alan’s that I got just before The Negrido ended back in my workshop a few days ago.
At the time, I didn’t think much of it, but now I realized that it was important — for, as the quirkiness of life sometimes churns out, I realized that the piece of Alan’s memory that came back to me concerned that same fateful day which I had just re-lived!
I wasn’t really honest with her that day.
That’s what Alan’s mind kept screaming during The Negrido over and over.
(OK, it’s time you understand something – even I knew that Alan, nee Lazarus, had been harboring a secret from Miriam, nee Mary of Magdala, for a long time, and while it might have been truthful for Alan to tell Mary that he had heard Jesus’ calling to him, asking him to come back and help her in a mission to save the world, when you discover the whole truth, I think you’re going to agree that Alan was a bit deceptive in the description of the afterlife that he related to her).
Peace? Love? Fulfillment? Alan’s mind had chided himself during my ritual. Ha! More like Uncertainty, Regret, and Longing. I made Miriam believe I was in Heaven, when in reality I was only in Purgatory!
But that’s not all Alan’s mind revealed. I remember him also harboring this secret…
Had I told her that Jesus offered me the opportunity to escape the sorrow of Purgatory simply by agreeing to come back and aid her, how noble would that make me look? Certainly it wouldn’t prove how much I loved her!
Do YOU see the problem here?
Alan didn’t believe the truth was dynamic enough to attract Mary and so he embellished it to make his sacrifice appear more noble – apparently because he knew he was competing against Jesus himself for Mary’s heart.
Yet, if I’ve told Alan once, I’ve told him a thousand times – chivalry doesn’t pay.
Unfortunately the fool would never listen to me. He always wanted to be the Shining Knight who came to save the day – too bad for him, he never played that role very well.
I then remember Alan’s thoughts turning blacker – even as my Negrido reached its climax.
Where has all my chivalry gotten me? Alan lamented, his soul refusing to respond to my alchemy. Miriam still doesn’t love me. She’s still saving herself for The Teacher. How can she do it? What kind of a life is that? Oh, why didn’t I just tell Mary the truth? I thought when Jesus called me from the grave I would have it all – an escape from Purgatory, a chance to be with the woman I love, a glorious place in history after fulfilling His mission, and upon death – an immediate entrance into Heaven!”
And still Alan’s mind kept on, Instead nothing has gone as expected – we failed in our mission, and more importantly to me, I never did get my time with Mary! For twenty centuries I did my best to win her heart, but to no avail. What more could a man do to prove his love? Alas, she never wanted me.
I also recalled that, as The Negrido wore on, Alan started sinking into a dangerous state of self-loathing — fighting against me pulling him back to life.
But that was a battle I refused to let him win – for that would have meant he found a way to die without me!
In desperation I forced him to drink a poison potion — essentially what you might call a happy pill. I know it sounds crazy, but hey, an alchemy master like myself has a lot of tricks up his sleeve.
(What’s that – why don’t I take my own medicine and just be happy? Enough questions!)
NO, these are the thoughts of a madman! Alan’s mind had told himself during my ritual – after the effects of my special potion began. I am Lazarus. Jesus of Nazareth was my friend, my teacher, my Lord. I DO BELIEVE!
And that was the very moment that I successfully pulled Alan out of his stupor — when I knew The Negrido had been a success!
(Naturally I didn’t tell Miriam all of this. Hey, let her wonder a bit, right?).
All this I now remembered as I look at Alan and Miriam on that plane to Rome. (And by the way, all this movement with the Sight and my memories was making me pretty dizzy – just in case you’re wondering!)
At first glance, both of my friends appeared relaxed.
But of a sudden, Alan’s eyes opened wide in revelation, “My God, She knows!”
Miriam stirred but didn’t wake up.
Softly Alan continued to himself, “She knows my secret. She didn’t need her mental powers to guess it. Jesus must have told her way back when. She knows the truth — and she has always known!”
My forced revelation about Alan and Miriam continued.
I had to wade through the grueling experience of watching all the passengers and crew complete their numerous Covid health safety checks – with the process delayed because of an unchipped family requiring additional on-the-spot testing before they were allowed to board – their angry fellow passengers then berating the family for their selfishness in not being chipped. After this the flight attendants did their rounds to ensure everyone was masked and gloved. (It was #PopulationControl at its finest and I know Orwell would have been proud).
When they were finally airborne, I watched Alan lean over to Miriam and say, “Did you bring The Book with you or did you put it in your checked bags?”
“That’s absurd,” Miriam was aghast.” You know I could never check that!”
“May I see it?”
“What, here? Now?”
“Nobody knows what it is. Please. I haven’t viewed it in centuries…”
“But, why do you want to see it? It will only make you sad.”
“Miriam.” Alan gazed into her eyes. “Please.”
Not wanting to hold the eye contract, Miriam reached under the seat in front of her and pulled out a large, leather-bound tome from her carry on. After unlocking it, she hefted it over to Alan. He then flipped to the latter pages of The Book of Life — looking for text.
“So many lives lost.” Miriam whimpered. “I’ll never understand it.“
“Here you go.” Alan slammed the book and shoved it back at her.
“Er. OK?” Miriam gingerly took it back, surprised at how quickly Alan was done with it. Fumbling with the lock, she asked, “Is everything ok?”
“How very sad. Miriam, how do you live daily with this burden?”
Miriam’s tears began to soil her face mask as she replied, “Ours is not to question God’s way. We must continue in faith that all will work out, and that… maybe, there will be a final redemption when even the lost sheep will come back into the fold. At least that is MY hope.”
Alan grasped her gloved hand gently, “An admirable hope indeed.”
Miriam placed her head on Alan’s shoulder, while he continued to hold her hand, and as they sat, both of them remembered the past…
(How do I know their thoughts? Keep reading and see for yourself).
My vision shifted with theirs, I guess, because after a hazy shading, I found myself looking upon a scene I hadn’t recalled in many years…
There we were, a group of disciples and hangers-on, following Jesus of Nazareth as he led us back to Bethany – just outside of Jerusalem. We were on the way to visit with the family of our friend Lazarus. There was much confusion among the disciples about the purpose of this trip — some among the group tried to keep Jesus from going back there because our last visit to The Holy City nearly resulted in his death from the Jewish mobs who were incensed about his heretical teachings. Others were under the impression that Jesus was on his way to cure Lazarus of a mysterious illness which his sisters had urgently come to tell us about just two days before.
Yet, only myself, Mary of Magdala, and a few others knew the truth…
Lazarus was already dead.
I watched as our group moved along the road.
Then I caught a close-up glimpse of myself.
(Oh how young and strong I once was! Why can’t I relive those days again? Quickly, I looked away – it was no use living in the past – especially knowing what I know now. Instead I focused my Sight on someone else).
“St John” by Pieter Paul Reubens, c 1611
Eventually my sight fixed itself upon Mary and Jesus. They were walking together a bit separated from the others.
“But, I don’t understand, Lord.” Mary questioned Jesus. “If your friend Lazarus is already dead, why are we going back?”
“Dear one, why do you not listen to me?” Jesus replied.
“What am I missing?”
“Lazarus IS dead. But, for your sake, he will not stay that way.”
“MY sake? What do I have to do with anything concerning your friend Lazarus?”
“Lazarus is a friend to both of us and he loves you, Mary.”
“Lord!” Miriam blushed. “You know my heart beats only for you.”
“What you want cannot be.” Jesus said gently. “Each of us has a different path to walk. You and Lazarus will journey together; while I have another road. But fear not. I will always be with you.”
(Hogwash! I’ve heard that same line countless times – it ain’t true).
Clearly frustrated that the man she loved was trying to pass her off onto someone else, Mary abruptly stormed off to the back of the group to be alone – surely wondering if her destiny was still to follow Jesus or if instead she was being led down a road to nowhere.
I didn’t have time to ponder about this further because, for me, Time began to flash by…
When I got my bearings again I realized a day or more must have passed, for we were all at a party – celebrating Lazarus’ Resurrection!
(Despite my current beef with Jesus, I couldn’t help remembering the profound amazement we all experienced back when we witnessed Jesus raise Lazarus from the dead – do you have any idea what it’s like to see a man come out of the grave? Truly Jesus was a miracle worker!)
The celebration was chaotic to say the least, but I happened to catch a glimpse of Mary sitting alone in a quiet grove. Lazarus walked over to her. Not knowing what to say, Mary stuttered, “How… er, how do you feel?”
“Better… now.” Lazarus smiled calmly.
“I’m glad.” She replied automatically. “Jesus is amazing, huh?”
“He is. And so are you, Mary.”
(Can you be any more obvious, Laz?)
“Oh, looks like I need some more wine.” Mary squirmed. “Would you excuse me?”
But Lazarus grasped her hand, “Mary, I let you get away from me once before. I can’t let that happen again. I love you. Stay with me.”
“Lazarus, please! This is not the time or the place.”
“Mary, don’t you realize I was a dead man less than a day ago?”
“That’s not a very comforting thought to a girl.”
“I was experiencing the afterlife!” Lazarus related, his eyes peering inwards. “Peace. Love. Fulfillment.”
“I don’t understand, why did you come back?”
Lazarus looked intently at her. “I came back for YOU, Mary.”
“But why? Er, I know, I know, you love me.” She hissed the words under her breath. “But, it doesn’t make sense! If you were already experiencing the afterlife, surely the thought of ME could not compare?”
“I heard his voice — The Teacher. Jesus said I needed to come back to… to… help you.”
“What are you trying to tell me? That Jesus is playing matchmaker and he brought you back from the dead to save me from being an old maid?”
(Ooh, this is not going to go over well!).
Mary was fuming, “Why the nerve of th—“
But Lazarus touched her hand gently, “It’s not like that, Mary.”
“Then what is it like?”
“I DO love you.” Lazarus said, as a touch of sadness entered his words, “However, I know how you feel about The Teacher. And about me.”
“Well, Lazarus, I… we… you and I, well, we hardly know each other.”
“Be that as it may. If nothing else, I came back to help you… with your mission.”
“What are you talking about?”
Now it was Lazarus’ turn to be confused. “Wait, are you telling me that The Teacher hasn’t discussed your mission with you?”
“Does he want me to lead a new group of disciples?” Mary suddenly perked up.
Seeing that she really had no idea what he was talking about, Lazarus advised, “Perhaps this conversation was not the best idea. I’m sorry, I thought Jesus had already discussed all this with you.” And he got up to leave.
Now it was Mary’s turn to pull him back down, “Just a moment. You can’t walk away now; explain yourself!”
Unable to resist the woman he loved, Lazarus answered, “Mary, you are going to save the world! And I am going to help you!”
A couple nights later I had my sleep interrupted again – this time with another vision of The Two Witnesses as the word became flesh before my eyes…
<Drip… drip… drip…>
<Drip… drip… drip…>
<Drip… drip… drip…>
I watched as a frustrated Enoch, despite his blindness, arose from the prison floor and tried to ferret out the source of the annoying drip. After a time, he did successfully locate the trickle, but unfortunately the crack in the cell’s ceiling was simply too high for him to do anything about.
<Drip… drip… drip…>
Ice cold rivulets splashed into Enoch’s maw – smelling of raw sewage they were far from refreshing. And so, backing away dejectedly, he slumped back down onto the pile of filthy straw that was his bedding and did the only thing he could – endure.
As for Elijah, he might as well have been a dead log. During this brief respite from their visions, I was certain that sleep, if the prophets’ could grasp it, was a welcome relief. (Even though my own was currently being interrupted!)
Turning my attention back to Enoch, I wondered if he ever remembered that he was once a man of renown – and if so, would that knowledge cause him to curse his present condition? For the fact that he formerly enjoyed the favor of God but was now subject to a fate worse than Job seemed like a pretty raw deal to me. (After all, this was something I could definitely relate to). Or was Enoch foolish enough to believe he was going to be rewarded for this ‘righteous’ suffering?
<Drip… drip… drip…>
“Will this never end?” Enoch muttered, head hanging in misery. “Where is our savior?”
(Well I guess that answers my question).
Suddenly my vision shifted – torn from the prophets’ cell, I was again looking upon the man calling himself Ghaz al’ Ridwan Ma’bus. He was in his private quarters and again watching a webcam of the prophets, but this time he was not alone.
“Don’t worry, my friend, I’ll save you.” An unmasked Ma’bus replied to Enoch’s question, even though the prophet never heard him.
“What does he mean?” Mystery said. Not only was the woman not wearing any Covid personal protection, but she was wearing little else – climbing off the bed she clasped a wisp of silk around heras she came up behind her lover to look at his computer. “What will never end? The virus? The world? His revelations?”
“Who cares? He’s clearly not having a true vision, so it doesn’t matter.”
“How do you know he is not prophesying?” Mystery wrapped her arms seductively around the technocrat’s shoulders.
“Look at Elijah — he’s out.” Dr. Mab’us casually brushed off Mystery’s advances. “The Two Witnesses never reveal wisdom unless they both speak. So perhaps Enoch’s just complaining about the food?”
Mystery ignored her lover’s rebuff and chuckled along at his last comment before growing serious, “Benedict suspects something about all this, you know.”
“So?” The computer whiz turned dictator continued to stare at his webcam, allowing his mind to think of ways to improve the tech in the device.
“So, he never got around to asking about the prophets, nor how Alan escaped — but only because I got out of there before he could dig too deep.”
“He knows about all of it by now.”
“How? Did you tell him? Did he—“
Bates raised a hand, “Don’t forget the kind of power we’re dealing with. Joseph Ratzinger is no ordinary man. He is one of the Chosen.”
(A Chosen — Joe? Again, I’m as confused as you are).
And closing his computer screen, Dr. Ma’bus turned to look at Mystery, ignoring the temptation of her seductive body, “Benedict already knows that I have the witnesses. And as for Lazarus, surely Benedict knows that Mary came to my lair to rescue him… and that I let Mary succeed.” (Whoa, what’s that?)
“But he wasn’t happy to learn that you kept Alan’s Nail.”
“Of course not. He wants The Nails for himself – and he’ll stop at nothing to get them. I’m sure he’s already planning to influence Mary and John to bring him the other two.” (Hey, don’t bring ME into it!)
“But he won’t succeed.” Mystery smiled. “Alan’s nearly dead because of what Dr. Flipflop and you did to him to him with The Chair of Woe, and John is out of the game permanently.”
“On the contrary. Lazarus will be fine. John will repent. And Benedict will eventually get his hands on all three of The Nails.” (La, la, la, I can’t hear you!)
“What?” Mystery gasped – apparently wondering if she’d chosen the right side.
Bates seemed to know what she was thinking, “Dost thou have so little faith in me?”And before Mystery could stutter a response, he explained, “This is all part of MY plan, dear – just like with Covid. As for Lazarus, you know I only wanted to toy with him in The Chair — you know he is needed for something far more important… later. I knew that Mary would come to rescue him once she was informed by Gabriel. So by torturing Lazarus, I forced Mary to take him to the one person on earth who could cure him of the wounds I inflicted.”
“The Apostle John.” Mystery nodded.
(No, this is not happening! Please don’t let me just be a pawn. Don’t let all of my actions be predetermined! Quick, what am I thinking right now? What am I going to do next? See, YOU don’t know, right? And neither do I. So how can they?)
“Correct.” Dr. Ma’bus replied. “Mary had to take Lazarus to John. Given his resentment against Jesus, I’m sure John resisted getting involved, but I expect that Mary was quite convincing.”
Mystery smiled knowingly at that comment.
“Oh, not in the way that you are thinking.” Ma’bus explained, pulling Mystery over to lap and ripping away her coverlet. “John’s too old to care about this sort of thing.”(Hey, you’re wrong there). “And I’ve always wondered if he liked women anyway – after all his own gospel says that he is the apostle that Jesus loved. Ha!” (Now that’s a low blow. I’m not gay – not that there’s anything wrong with it — that lifestyle just doesn’t appeal to me). “And Mary doesn’t have your… talents. But the bottom line is that she has learned how to control minds – remember the havoc she caused here – my people are still suffering from her rampage. And I don’t doubt she would use that power on John too.”
(Wrong again — I did not agree to help because I was influe– Wait a second, DID Mary use her Psychic Probe on me?)
“But, even if John cures Alan,” Mystery asked, still sitting in the nerd’s lap, “how do you know they will go to Benedict? And why in Hell would they give him their Nails?”
“My dear, let’s not forget WHY these Nails exist in the first place.”
Mystery hesitated, “Er… ah… to destroy… you.”
“Don’t be afraid to say it, love. After all, what you said IS the truth.” And here the flaccid man pushed Mystery off as he rose up and took on a pompous air, “These are the very nails by which Jesus of Nazareth was gloriously crucified nearly two thousand years ago. The holy spikes that pierced his flesh and sent him to the grave. Why, the beat-up iron still retains his blood! Enemy or not, I understand the power these instruments contain — they will be the glorious tools by which I complete the Armageddon Rite and thus stop the Nazarene’s Second Coming once and for all. Indeed, December 21st will mark the official beginning to my own reign upon this world!”
Although Mystery smiled back, it was clear she was still unsure.
“I sense your uncertainty. Care to see what the Nails can do?”
Mystery took a step back, grasping for her coverlet again, “Here? Now? No. I’m confident in what I already know about them from my father, and in what you’ve told me.”
“Ah, but I don’t think you are.” The dictator reached out and grabbed her by the hair! (Damn, this girl’s been taking a beating lately, huh?)
“Ghaz, no!” Mystery shrieked, unable to break his iron grip.
Spinning her around, the man slammed her into a chair and ripped her silk away again, “Don’t move!” As he spoke, his eyes rolled back – showing nothing but the whites – and his voice became rich with an ancient <power>. “Now you’ll get a taste of what I possess.”
Although Dr. Ma’bus’ demonic persona quickly receded, Mystery remained trapped in place, whilst the man tapped his watch to activate its communication feature, “Oh Jamir, be a good sport and bring me The Nail of Lazarus.”
Was Mary Magdalene the Adulteress from The Gospel of John? Many Christians have been brought up believing that famous Adulteress from the Gospel of John was in fact Mary Magdalene and for nearly 1,300 years this is what was formally taught in Catholic doctrine – but is this legend even true?
In this article, we’ll explore the connection between the woman caught in adultery from John’s Gospel and the disciple Mary Magdalene from the Bible.
In order to make the association stick, Pope Gregory also had to connect the dots by proclaiming that Mary Magdalene was in fact also Mary of Bethany – the sister of Martha and Lazarus. This was necessary because Mary of Bethany was the proclaimed to be the woman with the sinful past who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears and/or anointed him with the alabaster jar of perfume in various gospels).
Why all the Mary’s?
The reason Mary of Bethany had to be the woman who anointed Jesus in order to trace her back to Mary Magdalene is a bit of a circuitous route. The apparent basis for Pope Gregory’s decision relates to Luke 8:2 where Mary Magdalene is specifically named as having been cured of “7 demons” by Christ. One or more of these ‘demons’ was thought to relate to a sinful ‘sexual’ past and from there it was apparently just a hop, skip, and a jump for Pope Gregory to connect the dots from Mary Magdalene, to Mary of Bethany, to the woman who anointed Jesus, to the Adulteress of John.
Well that makes perfect sense, right? Not!
Is there ANY Evidence that Supports Mary Magdalene is the Adulteress?
To wit: Mary Magdalene also means Mary of Magdala. This is important because Magdala, located along the Sea of Galilee near Tiberias, was a prosperous port city during the time of Christ. And what do we know about nearly all ‘port cities’ the world over? They are a haven for prostitutes.
It’s reported that Rome eventually destroyed Magdala “because of its moral depravity and its participation in the Jewish revolt.”
Additionally, the Jewish Talmud word Magdalene may be translated to “curling women’s hair,” which apparently is code word for “adulteress.”
Thus more ammunition to support Pope Gregory’s claims that Mary Magdalene was a woman of ill-repute and that she was committed to Christ for saving her from her unsavory past.
So Was Mary Magdalene the Adulteress?
Honestly we may never really know, however it’s worth digging a bit deeper into Pope Gregory’s decision.
Clearly we can conclude that Mary Magdalene was definitively the “Mary” of Luke 8 – after all she was specifically named by her full name in this verse. However one is left to wonder why the mention of her past demons and her place of birth must also necessarily mean that she was the adulteress, or Mary the sister of Martha, or the penitent woman with the perfume.
Consider the following…
Mary was one of the most common names among the people of this time in Israel (even Jesus’ mother was named Mary), so just because a “Mary” is mentioned in the Bible that doesn’t mean it must be Mary Magdalene, right?
In every other Biblical story that references Mary Magdalene, she is called by her full name at some point in the story. Why would she not be identified by name in the story about the adulteress or if Mary Magdalene was also Mary of Bethany?
We may never know why Pope Gregory made this decision (although our discussion of Conspiracy Theories about Mary Magdalene is of interest here), however it should be noted that while the Catholic Church held this view from the 6th century onward, it was officially reversed in 1969 by Pope Paul VI (although without much fanfare). As it stands now, the Church no longer associates Mary Magdalene with Mary of Bethany or the Adulteress. And as an interesting side note, the Eastern Orthodox Church apparently never did.
What’s the Truth about Mary Magdalene in the Bible?
In spite of her past demons and her place of birth the fact is that there is no concrete evidence that Mary Magdalene is the famous adulteress from the Gospel of John 8:3-11.
The name of the adulteress in these verses is actually not given so we have no way of knowing who the woman was.
The Adulteress could have been Mary Magdalene…or pretty much any other woman alive at the time who lived there.
Having just witnessed unwelcome memories from nearly 2,000 years ago I was ready for a break.
“Ha! ‘Surely Mary won’t wait around forever?’ Eh, Peter?” I quipped to myself as I remembered what my friend said and took another sip of my iced tea (yes it was a Long Island).
“Well, it seems we were wrong about that, for hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, right?”
Still on my porch, I snickered to myself with chagrin – for as I pondered the situation in hindsight it seemed that nobody got what they wanted:
Lazarus never did get Mary.
Jesus never accepted Mary’s advances.
I’m still here rotting in this worn out husk of a body.
All of our dreams have been dashed.
“Why have you cursed us like this, Lord?” And I threw my glass down on the porch – watching it smash into countless pieces, even as the remaining liquid quickly seeped through the floorboards. Overwhelmed with shame, I cried, “I am worn out calling for help, God. Will my life never end? Even if I end up in the land of gloom and shadow – even still I will go if it means I can only escape this so-called life!”
As if on cue, I noticed the radio was playing yet another one of my favorite songs – the Jim Reeves classic, “Am I that Easy to Forget?”
Guess I could find somebody, too. But I don’t want no one but you. How could you leave without regret? Am I that easy to forget?
I was about to let myself be drawn deeper into the song, when… “We interrupt this broadcast,” came the urgent words of the announcer, “with a special report about the assassination of UN Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon…”
“NO, not again – what about my Phillies game?”
I stewed as the Special Report was delivered — no less than thirty minutes of rigmarole about how, as yet, no one knew who had assassinated Ki-Moon (although I had a pretty good idea); that an emergency meeting of the UN had already taken place; and that William Henry Bates III (Bingo!) had already been elected as interim Secretary General.
After this, there was a short audio clip from Bates’ acceptance speech in which the beloved philanthropist explained that while his first inclination was to advise he was not worthy of such an honor, in fact he agreed to accept the nomination – at least on a short term basis – because he realized that the world needed him, and therefore he promised to do his best to lead the planet to prosperity.
Bates took the opportunity to remind people that he’d continue to work hard to help himself and others like him overcome their White Privilege disease, and as proof of his commitment to promoting BLM and Critical Race Theory goals he announced he was changing his name to the Muslim-inspired moniker Dr. Ghaz ‘al Ridwan Ma’bus. (Just like Teri had warned Alan about – although Teri missed the part about Bates taking on the “Dr.” title – apparently stealing a page from the puppet president Joe Biden’s wife’s playbook on how to give yourself fake credentials). Next this new Dr. Ma’bus explained how he would use his UN platform to protect the world from Climate Change disasters in the hopes that building a more sustainable world would eventually put an end to the never-ending cycle of pandemics that had plagued our planet since 2019.
Bates nee Ma’bus’ message was one of hope and freedom for all people in the world and he the more he talked the more he promoted himself as the People’s Savior.
Now as odd as this might sound, during the initial newscast I was quite dour – especially when Dr. Ma’bus was talking about the UN Agenda 2030 propaganda pawns like BLM, CRT, and Covid, and about his silly new name. Yet the more the Bates/Ma’bus audio clip was playing, the more I found myself getting inspired (just a bit) by Bill’s passion when he proclaimed himself to be our savior as Ghaz al’ Ridwan Ma’bus. It was a contagious sensation that I could not shake and soon enough a smile began to form beneath the scraggly curls of my beard the more I listened to Ma’bus smooth voice.
His voice beckoned me.
And then, as if the shackles of two thousand years of lethargy were suddenly released, I jumped up and looked to the Heavens. “Could this really be The Time?” I was actually hopeful. And in spite of myself, I began to praise, “When my soul is downcast within me, I will remember you. O Lord, have you returned to us in the person of the Muslim Savior Ghaz ‘al Ridwan Ma’bus?”
Meanwhile, Dr. Ma’bus continued to talk – encouraging the world to unite in brotherly love across every race and religion — and my Hope sprang even higher!
“Lord, are you him?” I desperately clutched my radio, hanging on the savior’s next words.
But then it happened, for as the applause from the crowd became so overwhelming, Ma’bus himself could no longer be heard.
“Noooooooo!” I collapsed in despair. “Don’t desert me again!”
Yet, my protests were to no avail. And when the regular newsman’s voice came back over the speaker, my newfound inspiration evaporated; once more I felt as if I was nothing more than a worthless sinner who had yet again been forgotten and abandoned.
And trudging along the porch, “Let the world take care of itself. Or let Bates’ Ma’bus persona do it. He doesn’t need me. You don’t need me, Lord. Nobody needs ME anymore.”
And with that, I went inside and closed the door – leaving even my Phillies to fend for themselves.
OK, out with it – let’s hear your questions. I can tell that you won’t let me move on with my tale unless I start answering some of your nagging questions so let’s get it over with.
Am I immortal?
Yes. Alan, Miriam, and I are all immortal – we have been since He made us that way – nearly two thousand years ago. It’s a bitch. Trust me.
Take today for instance – here I am just sitting in my bed trying to get some sleep and shake this drunken haze. Yet I can’t get any peace because He keeps sending me more revelations. Enough already!
Being immortal is just not all it’s cracked up to be.
I know Alan and Miriam may feel different, but what do they know?
Oh sure, there was a time when I had a different opinion, but those days were long gone — two thousand years on this planet will do that to a guy.
Well, now that the cat’s out of the bag, I suppose I’ll have to tell you a few more things to keep you from bombarding me with questions…
Here’s a few more tidbits about my life – take them for what you will.
Obviously I haven’t always lived in upstate Pennsylvania; I was actually born half a world away and some two millennia past. And although I’m a persona unknown to most of the world now, long ago I was actually rather famous. Let’s see how quickly you can figure it out…
My father’s name was Zebedee and my mom was Mary Salome. My family was Jewish and originally lived in the Bethsaida region around the Lake of Gennesaret in what is now modern day Israel.
I also had a rather famous brother too – a man who later became known as Saint James The Greater. I’m kinda proud of my older brother so obviously I have to show you a picture of him too.
Click to learn more about my brother
To say James and I were close is an understatement – back in the day we tore it up and were known by all as The Sons of Thunder. Sure we got into a bit of trouble, but it was all in good fun.
Meanwhile, my dad had a fishing business that James and I helped him with it. The business was profitable enough to allow me to afford my own house and it even gave me a bit of status (I was a personal friend of the Jewish high priest at the time – hey, if you give anyone enough money, they’ll be your friend, right?).
Now Jesus and I we also cousins of another famous preacher – the legendary Jewish apocalyptist known as John The Baptist.
The Baptizer was the first great speaker I had ever met and I actually found myself captivated by all his talk about how “the Kingdom of Heaven was at hand” and what it meant for me and my fellow Jews.
(I wouldn’t fall for all that talk now, mind you, but back then it sounded rather good).
In any case, at the time Jesus and I were both looking for something meaningful to do with our lives (fishing just wasn’t exciting enough) so we decided to follow The Baptizer around for awhile.
Eventually Jesus became a pretty hardcore apocalyptic teacher himself and he too began evangelizing. Since I was closer to Jesus, I left The Baptizer’s group and followed Jesus around for a bit. But soon enough Jesus’s group ran out of money and reality set in, so we had to give it up — I went back home to my boring life in the fishing business, while Jesus wandered off into the desert to find himself.
I honestly thought that was the end of my time as a disciple (of anybody) and I was happy just living the life of a village fisherman. However, about a year later, Jesus came back home – and he was now a changed man.
Jesus claimed he’d a revelation that he was the Son of God!
Perhaps just as importantly, he also had a new plan for his evangelical work: expansion via recruitment.
He asked me and my brother James to join him and leave our fishing business to instead become “Fishers of Men.”
We took the bait and helped Jesus find more recruits. It was a wild success – we travelled around like rock stars for awhile and after that I was pretty much by Jesus’ side from there on out – until Jesus was crucified that is!
As you can imagine Jesus’s death at the hands of his jealous adversaries was quite an ordeal – events certainly didn’t work out as I thought they were going to when Jesus first roped me into the experience and when he was murdered so unexpectedly it left myself and the other disciples in a bit of shock. We had no idea what to do next and most of us were just trying to lay low for awhile in order to save our own skins.
Thankfully Jesus proved he was the Son of God when he rose from the dead just three days after his crucifixion and that, as I’m sure you can imagine, was rather inspiring.
On fire for his message, I took it upon myself to continue his Christ’s mission. In fact, I later wrote about my time with Jesus in a book called The Gospel of John. Watch it today on Amazon Prime (everybody has that now, right?)
Looking back now I regret the decision to get caught up with Jesus — it was all just a crazy idea. Back then I was young and stupid. Oh sure there was something charismatic about Jesus – even more so than The Baptizer.
But Jesus clearly said that he would return.
And he said that he was going to do so during our lifetimes back then.
So where the hell is he? And what’s taking him so damn long?
That’s right. I said it.
You wanted to know what has me so upset. Well now you know.
Oh, where should I start? Well, to begin with, I guess I should tell you that she is currently calling herself Miriam Magdala. I suppose that is adequate since she is originally from Magdala – but that is a different story…
Are Miriam and I friends?
Well, let’s just say she is a long time business associate.
OK, to be truthful, at one time she, Alan, and I were inseparable. We all had the same mission to work on, we were all very gung-ho, and of course, we were all blessed with the same…condition.
What do I think about Miriam?
I can tolerate her – when she doesn’t get all high and mighty on me. You see, the problem is that Miriam is very passionate about The Commission – still. She has no other real interests; everything she does is about The Commission – even after all these many years, and all our MANY failures.
Don’t you find that a bit odd? I did. And I got tired of all her badgering. That’s the main reason why I left her and Alan and went off and did my own thing.
Since we parted ways I’ve lived all over the world, but I migrated to my present home in Williamsport, PA, oh I’d say about fifty years back – give or take a decade.
Because of his willingness to get vaxxed and chipped, and given his academic status, (and because of his various Associations), Alan has enjoyed freedom of movement and thus lived all over Eurasia. Given that he is a scholar and I fancy myself as a scientist, we’ve always maintained at least a professional association.
As for Miriam, I really haven’t kept track of her these past couple centuries; oh, I’ve seen her time and again, but it was always work-related and always with negative results. I remember her telling me previously that she’d spent most of her time in the Far East and I know she said something about “being a student of world religions,” but I didn’t really pay much attention – so long as she had something to occupy her other than MY whereabouts then that was fine by me.
Which brings us to today — June 11.
To be honest, I was not that surprised to see Miriam in my visions – once I saw that Benedict was up to something, and that Alan was in trouble, well, I figured that news of Miriam would pop up next.
As usual, I was correct.
A new day, a new revelation from Him – and this time it was all about Miriam. And wouldn’t you know it – I caught her writing another one of those damn secret notes!
(Boy, this woman really knows how to make me steam!)
1492 is coming for you – MM.
“Please do something, John.” I saw Miriam whisper – even though she was alone and her intended receiver (me) was on the other side of the globe.
(Who the hell is she talking to? It also steamed me that she was wearing a face mask despite being by herself – but then again she always was a rule-following virtue-signaler (something else I hated that about her).
(What the hell — why can’t she just leave me alone?)
I then watched as Miriam fell back into her chair and allowed the tears to take over. (She always one for the dramatics). She cried as quietly as she could, soiling her masks but apparently trying not to be heard through the paper thin walls of the palace.
The Last Temptation of John 