The First Age

A quote landed in his lap, one he recognized, at least in part.

The worm which does not die and the fire that is not quenched were referenced in both Isaiah and repeated by Mark, the latter quoted by Jesus himself to depict the final victory over the enemies of the Lord. The number of their corpses shall be so many that the worm that feeds on them, maggots, would never die, and their souls will suffer unquenched in the eternal fires of hell.

Jensen thought back to the long year of his life filled with his class on Revelation. An entire exhausting year: Revelation 1 in the fall and Revelation 2 in the spring. Together, those two courses were the most feared by every seminary student, and for good reason. The prophecies of the End Times were woven through all the dispensations of the Bible. What was revealed to John was beyond the capacity of human interpretation, therefore the book was filled with metaphors and symbolism. It was incredibly difficult to understand.

Some things were clear though. The coming antichrist would impose his will upon the earth. He would unify the world with peace and charisma. He would perform miracles. He would claim to be God. It certainly could be the Ascendancy, and there were men known to kneel before him as though in worship. But Jensen was unaware of the man claiming to be God, nor of any miracles per say. At least, none of the sort which Jensen himself could perform - the orb of light came to mind: a rather frightening distinction.

Jensen slowly nodded along. The turmoil of the last few minutes faded behind the focus of his mind on interpreting this challenge, and a sense of calm smothered the tension in the back of his throat. What John proposed was difficult to argue. Knowing what Jensen did of himself, of his own ... abilities? powers? gifts? - it still felt strange to acknowledge himself as blessed and not damned - the apocalypse could very well be upon them.

And he left his family behind to fend for themselves.

Perhaps detachment was for the best. Could he really run into a fight knowing they were in danger?

John weighed the consequence of his conclusion, and Jensen blinked taciturn. "I think I read an article about Jon Little Bird a while ago."
He thought. When it came to current events, Jensen kept a shallow understanding. "And Nicholas Trano is incredibly outspoken against the CCD. Wait. Aren't they both in Moscow right now?"


Jensen leaned forward, seeking guidance. "Should I try to find them? Maybe I can help?"


It was a long leap from hiding in the shadows to seeking the front lines, but the only thing Jensen feared was the shame waiting in the bright light of the public eye. Of the war itself, he was confident it was already won. At the moment of Creation.

It seemed to John that Jensen was deferring to him. John was not a leader. He was a supporting character, not a leading role. It was just that at this moment John and Jensen were the only two men standing against all that the forces of Hell could muster. And neither one of them believed that they were equipped to lead. It was a hard thing to believe that you were capable of being an adequate ambassador for God. Or at least so it seemed. Either way, they were a team. Weird part was that both had acted autonomously for so long that neither seemed to know how to work in tandem.

How do we approach these men? John couldn't fathom how to contact them or why they would even be willing to listen.

"How? Neither of us are the model Christian soldier defending the faith. An eccentric over-educated zealous recovered drug addict and the former pastor of a mega-church in self-imposed exile, what a team we make. I can see it now, 'Hey guys, that asshole who is the leader of the CCD is the Anti-Christ. And WE are dedicated to oppose him. Would you like to join our coalition? By the way, we a leader also. What do you say?' "


As soon as the words left John's mouth he wished that he could take them back. Tact and diplomacy were not in his repertoire of skills. The truth without love was a weapon to bludgeon people. Speaking the truth in love is what he needed to improve on.

"Actually, I think that is a good idea. Earlier this week I was approached by a man from the Vatican. I am meeting him in two days. He approached me right after my foundation's discovery of the wreckage in the Gulf of Mexico. The only thing that I can that they would be interested in are the prophecies that were uncovered. How do you think the Church will take the contents of these tablets?"


John was torn between the possibility of suppression and full disclosure. The question was which of these two scenarios were most advantageous to the Church? Hell, which of these two scenarios were better for humanity in general?
Edited by doulou, Oct 31 2013, 10:11 PM.

Well that felt good. In a wrenching the bandaid off in one skin-shredding, tear-cringing rip kind of way.

Jensen steadied himself with a draw of air into burning lungs. He was going to have to get used to attacks. He didn't believe John's words were born from malice, but the tongue was a sharper weapon than any sword, and Jensen wasn't used to wearing armor. John's apologetic cringe confirmed it, and though he didn't actually take back the whip of his sarcasm or the heat of his profanity, Jensen focused on the truth in what he said. Together, what they proposed did sound crazy. They were the unlikely chosen to make the stuff of heroes. Furthermore, why would John trust a man on self-imposed exile.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think the church will want him to be stopped. The apocalypse has to happen. If there is no war, there will be no victory. Shouldn't we focus on saving souls?"
Beginning with our own?

He swallowed, and as he gathered his thoughts, the words just kept coming. "And I don't think we're ready to battle. It's written that we are to: 'put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled round your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Because our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.'"


There was a silhouette of power and faith in his speech that Jensen hadn't heard from himself in so long. He was a shadow of what he used to be, but it was a self-inflicted diminishment as distancing from his origins as his exile.

He stood, knowing the direction he needed to take. "You meet with the man from the Vatican in two days? Therefore I need to prepare. I don't know if two days is enough, but we will have a better idea of our allies at that time, and I grievously need to fast and pray. Otherwise..."
he swallowed, "without the 'full armor of God', I know I will fail."


That's exactly what happened the last time he fell to sin. This time, Jensen was determined to stand his ground.

"'Lord of Hosts' is one of the titles for God. And there has been some controversy in the translation of the word 'angel'. It was originally translated as such because early translators didn't know what the word meant, so it was transliterated from άγγελος to angel. God's army is composed of angels, translated as messenger and/or envoy. Words are very important. Unfortunately, translating is an art more than a science."


"God be with you my friend."
John handed Jensen a slip of paper, "This is my new address. My staff is already preparing the place for habitation. I will be moving in tomorrow. If you need a car you can take mine. I have several. And this place is still under lease for another 5 months so if you would like it, it is yours. The furnishings came with the loft. By all means pray about it before deciding. The offer stands no matter how you are led to proceed."


John walked out of the room. When he returned he had cradled in his arms a book. He placed the volume in Jensen's hands. It was a 1760 Cambridge edition of the King James Bible. "Here, this is the first Bible I purchased when I began collecting old Bibles. In a manner of speaking, this book helped start me on my path that led to this place, this day. It was the start of a new beginning for me. Maybe it can help you with yours. You are one of God's co-laborers for His Kingdom. I am praying the Lord of the Harvest sends more workers into His fields."


John had no doubt that he had just witnessed the miraculous. Jensen was transformed. The man that shared the room with John was not the man who entered the loft just a short time ago. Jensen had just been told that the Antichrist was in the same city as him and without reservation decided to prepare to help God's people in the looming crisis. Jensen James may be without a flock at the moment, but he was the example of the good shepherd. 'The good shepherd gives his life for the sheep.' John10:11b

Jensen looked up from the slip of paper, blinking in surprise. John's was an incredibly generous offer. A car, home, furnishings and means all at once. There was a time when Jensen himself was a wealthy man. That was how he was able to stuff ten million dollars in a briefcase without too much notice, and he liked to think he would have offered his pool house to anyone in need, but a dejected liar with a criminal record? He knew that he would have given pause before inviting such a person into such trust.

In John's brief absence, and between the surges of shock, Jensen took another look around. This loft was in a beautiful location - he suddenly remembered the serene park between the building and the metro station - and came complete with more furniture in one corner than in all of Jensen's current apartment, murphy's bed included. And John was going to give it to him?

The man returned, book in hand. It was heavy. He read the cover, and his chest tightened. THE HOLY BIBLE, it read. The binding was thick, the paper yellow, the edging gold. He opened it to the cover page, where black typeface curled with intricate script the Bible's identity. This Bible was sourced from the 1760's, completed by Cambridge University.

Book open in his hands, Jensen found John's gaze, and once more didn't know what to say. The value of the gift was immense, but for its rarity, though it surely was near to priceless. The Bible itself was the living Word of God, and every time a passage is read, the Spirit may inspire the reader with new significance. The relationship between a man and the Bible is to have a relationship with the Lord himself, but the actual, physical book becomes beloved. Men carry their Bibles until they literally fall apart. By John's confession, this was the book that he held dearest, and he was going to give it away.

"John,"
Jensen began. He gently placed the book aside and turned back to him, eyes sunken with the stones of guilt. He took a breath. "You clearly know me as I know you. Yet you demonstrate enormous trust in me when I have done nothing to garner trustworthiness."
Jensen's heart beat wild, urging him to flee. He may have rededicated himself to the Lord, but it didn't mean temptation didn't try to drain his soul every five minutes.

He ran a nervous hand across the slope of his hair. "And that means you're aware of my deception, greed, lies..."
Jensen could go on, but he figured John got the point. Nobody in this room needed reminded about the headlines. Prosti-dude. Nor how outspoken he'd once been about the sanctity of marriage. He nodded awkwardly and continued, "...and we run into one another on the opposite side of the world from where we started in Texas. I can do ... things...,"
As a reminder, he gestured the same spherical shape with his hands he'd used before to summon that orb of light before. Supernatural things. Gift from God or not. It was still messed up.

But there was more to share. John might as well know exactly what he was dealing with. "You know I abandoned Jessika to scandal and shame, the woman I vowed to protect and cherish. That i'd rather my boys think their father dead than have to look them in the eye."
His throat burned, nearly getting choked up over that last admission.

He whispered a final question. Any louder and he was sure to have broken out in tears for a third time today. Maybe rather than cars and Bibles, John could get him a couple boxes of testosterone shots.

"Why do you trust me?"

"What I am aware of is that you approached me based on the conversation about a Bible. Maybe more specifically on getting clarity on my treatment of the Word of God. You sought a second audience with me and offered friendship and possible assistance when God sent me to find allies. All I did was obey. He provided not only an ally but one who can help keep me grounded. Someone familiar enough with God's Word to point out to me when I could be in danger of 'missing the mark'. Someone whose background and knowledge base differs from mine and is complementary at the same time. And you were able to confirm what I suspected about people, God's people, with supernatural powers. And you confirmed to me that you are not evil. Otherwise, you would have killed me instead of confessing your presumed guilt."


"I am trusting God. I am trusting the man God sent to me. I am trusting the man who stands before today who not only seems willing but eager to do God's will in the face of considerable adversity. The man who says that he must pray and fast before continuing to ensure that he is in fact aligning himself with the will of God and not running on self-will."


"I assume that your failings are like mine. I stopped trusting and relying on God, and He showed me the error of my ways while offing me an out that came with a second chance. In 1Timothy:15 when Paul wrote that
'Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief'
he was not saying that his sins were worse than yours, mine, David's, Ahab's, Jezebel's, Saul's, or Judas'. He was saying that his sins were the worst because he knew why he sinned. It was because in his eyes, at some point he stopped treating God as if He was sufficient. Just like I did. Maybe like you did. He knew that he was sinning, knew why he was sinning, and he knew that if he would only accept God's assistance that he could overcome his lusts of the flesh. Yet he chose to sin anyway. Just like I did. That was why to him, his sin is the greatest. Because he knew the circumstances surrounding his choices."


"These things that I am offering you were given to me first by Him. They have served their purpose for me, and now they can continue to aid in His work only if passed to another. 'In order to keep it, you must give it away.'"



Edited by doulou, Nov 5 2013, 10:29 PM.

Jensen remained still, and as John spoke, the stagnation that kept him unmoving for so many years seemed to blur slowly into serenity.

He thought of Paul again, blinded on the Damascus road. He thought of Peter who had three times denied Christ. He thought of King David's lamentations of sorrow juxtaposed by songs of joy recorded throughout the Psalms.

Jensen bowed his head, grief tearing like a veil, and when next he looked, he knew what he had to do. He'd made a lot of bad choices, and like John described, he'd known exactly what he was doing at the time.

Shame ripped through his gut. Not necessarily for past-transgressions, though he could disgrace a sailor, but for the ones that were ongoing right up until that morning when he'd met Tony. He'd never been so unbalanced with alcohol before, and he knew he was facing two possible futures. One was oblivion blended with days eternal until he finally faced rejection at the gates of heaven. The other, well the other was a lot scarier to face. He sighed, forcing his stomach to settle. In truth, even clinging to the robes of Christ, he was scared to death.

He couldn't hold himself to the standard of perfection, but he still had to make amends for the past. There was no way he could go forward as the servant John described, pure of thought and stripped of guilt, without seeking Jessika's forgiveness. But yet... was the search for her forgiveness yet another outstretching of a selfish ego? Only God's forgiveness mattered, but to not do so felt like he was walking free on another man's bond.

And now he was walking himself through mental circles. He sighed, weary. This was exactly why he needed to seek meditation. If Jensen had had the answers, he would have found them by now.

"Very well, my friend. I thank you for the kind words,"
he replied solemnly but sincerely. There was no smile to part his lips, and the bright flicker in his eyes was dimmed with doubt, but he clung to the dirtied reflection of hope like it were crystal clear waters of truth anyway. About to go, he turned back. "Thank-you.."
He started to say what for, but the immensity of it all caught his tongue, and he let the weight of their silence speak what he could not. The two men nodded in understanding.

He gathered the address of John's new home safely to one pocket, nestled the Bible against his chest, and made his departure.

After Jensen left, John finished removing the last of his possessions from the loft. The refrigerator and pantry were left stocked, and he left a sizable amount of reference material on the bookshelves.

While locking up, he quoted a verse from the Old Testament as he closed to door behind him. 'So shall my Word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.'
(Isaiah55:11)
Edited by doulou, Nov 6 2013, 10:48 AM.