sort of baggage at their side as diverse as their clothing.
“As the old man continued his chant, a second transformation took place, that of the landscape. The desert plain in which the multitude stood and the mountain on which the man stood remained the same. But everything else changed. The plain and the mountain were now encircled by an immense collage of diverse landscapes from all over the world—hills, farmland, tundras, seas and rivers, harbors, bridges, walls, villages and cities, ancient, medieval, and modern.
“And then came the last change. The multitude began to scatter. Some fled in haste, grabbing their baggage and running as if to escape a calamity. Others left more slowly and as if in mourning. Each headed out to the land and age to which their garments corresponded. Soon, except for a small remnant of those who lagged behind or chose to stay, the plain was devoid of people.
“The chanting ended. The old man now just gazed into the distance as the people wandered farther and farther away from the plain. Then the clouds began to move more and more rapidly across the sky as the day turned to night. And then it was day again and night in rapid succession. Time was accelerating, faster and faster, until days and nights blurred into weeks and years, decades and centuries, ages. And yet through it all the old man remained, standing unchanged on the mountaintop as everything changed around him. And then it all stopped, or resumed back to normal. I knew that many ages had passed since the time of the vision’s beginning.
“The old man then ascended a rock that comprised the highest point of the mountain’s pinnacle. He reached into his robe and pulled out a ram’s horn. He set it to his mouth and blew. What came out of the horn was not in any way natural but something in between the sound of sirens and the sound of thunder and so powerful that it shook not only the mountain on which he stood but all the landscapes that surrounded it.
“He then looked into the distance and spoke as if to the multitudes scattered in the nations.
“‘And thus,’ he said, ‘you shall return.’
“And the vision ended.”
Chapter 6
THE BEGINNING OF MYSTERIES
THE NEXT MORNING I returned to the mountain to find the Oracle. He was there on its summit, sitting in the same place, on the rock. He didn’t see me as I approached him. His head was turned downward, and his eyes were closed as if in deep thought. Yet he knew I was there.”
“You’ve had another revelation?” he said.
“I have.”
“I was expecting it.”
He motioned for me to sit down, which I did.
“Tell me.”
“I was standing in front of the first of the seven doors. You were there, at my side. You gave me the key. I opened it.”
“And what did you see?” he asked.
So I told him of the old man, the multitudes, the scroll, and the chant. He was quiet for a moment.
“What if there was a people,” he said, “brought into existence as a sign, as a witness to the existence of God and a vessel to bring about His purposes? If such a people were to exist, what do you think would become of them?”
“I would think they would be different . . . they would stand out.”
“What about the history of such a people?”
“I would think it would be different from that of other peoples.”
“If such a people were to exist,” said the Oracle, “they already do. They were the people you saw in your vision on the plain in the desert . . . the nation of Israel, the Jewish people . . . a people who stand out as different and whose history is unlike that of other peoples.”
“But why were they in my vision?”
“Because apparently the mystery begins with them.”
“And who was the old man in the red robe?”
“Only once was the entire nation of Israel in a desert as in your vision . . . in the days of their journeying from Egypt to Israel. The old man in the red robe would be Moses.”
“And the scroll?”
“That would be the scroll of Moses, the Torah, the first five books of the Bible.”
“So Moses was reading from the books of Moses?”
“He was reading from the scroll just as it has been read by the Jewish people in every age and land.”
“And what exactly was he reading?”
“His last words,” said the Oracle, “the last words he would ever speak