the word of the prophecy shall be fulfilled. Amen, amen I say to you, as man has broken his sacred covenant with the Lord, so shall the rock be cleaved; yet from the crevice, the seed of the New Way shall sprout and flourish anew.”
Di Concerci had risen from his seat, his face flushed with indignation. “This is simply too outrageous to accept,” he shouted. “If you wish us to believe you, you must give us a sign. Prove to us that you are who you say you are!”
A hush pervaded the crowd once more.
Jeza looked tired and frustrated. “You ask for a sign that you might believe,” she said heavily. “And yet of your own followers do you demand unquestioned faith. I say to you, the only sign you shall receive shall be in the fulfillment of my words!”
Di Concerci started to challenge her once more, but she cut him short. Her eyes blazing, she slashed her right arm forcefully down at him, extending a judgmental forefinger and startling the entire assembly with the volume of her pronouncement:
Exasperated and angered, but containing it masterfully, the prefect recognized that any further efforts to repudiate this demagogue would be in vain. He knew now that he would have been much better served not entering into a debate with her. By default, her invocation of God in defense of any argument was a fait accompli. To his great dismay, di Concerci realized he had only managed to make the Church look worse in this confrontational exchange.
A few seats away from Cardinal di Concerci, an ashen Brother Elijah Petway rose on behalf of the Mormons to conclude the devastated proceedings. But before he could speak, a stout arm, draped in black and crimson, reached from behind and grasped his microphone.
Di Concerci was shocked to observe the energized face of Alphonse Litti. In a breathless, reverential manner, Litti announced himself. “Most Holy Daughter of God,” he began, and di Concerci clenched his teeth. “I am Alphonse Bongiorno Litti, a cardinal of the Curia and Magisterium of the Holy Roman Catholic Church. And I have a humble but urgent request of you.”
Jeza gazed down from her pulpit, an endearing look gradually replacing the anger on her face.
“Great Lady,” Litti continued, “other than yourself, there is no more recognized spiritual leader in the world than the supreme pontiff of the Catholic Church, His Holiness Pope Nicholas VI. As a direct descendant of Saint Peter and leader of Christianity's oldest and most continuous religion, it's vital that the pontiff meet you and hear your word. Would you allow yourself a personal audience with His Holiness?”
Di Concerci leaned forward quickly to protest into his microphone. “Speaking as a member of the Curia
Litti would hear none of it. “The pope will not,
Di Concerci dared not protest too strongly or risk portraying the Church as weak and fearful. And perhaps he should not be so hasty after all. Such a meeting, assuming this mercurial woman even accepted, might yet explore ways to defuse this dangerous development. Certainly, a proposed conference with the pope would at least forestall the current dilemma. And it would buy time for Holy Mother Church and her associate world religions to regroup and counter Jeza's absurd self-destruct order-a command which many clergy in the audience were obviously taking seriously.
Responding directly to Cardinal Litti, without even acknowledging di Concerci, the Messiah stated flatly, “Yes, I will come.”
72
Salt Lake City Airport, Utah 6:19 P.M., Sunday, March 5, 2000
Feldman saw the reserved, pensive prophetess safely to her cabin in the jetliner where she retired for the rest of the day. Then, donning his trusted sunglasses and a ball cap pulled low to conceal himself, he retreated with Hunter and Cissy to a concourse cocktail lounge to reflect. The mood of the patrons around them was gloomy. Ordering a round of beers, the three newspeople listened quietly to the TV telecasts as a tale of global distress unfolded before them.
From dozens of cities across the world, the reports were rolling in-all uncannily alike. There was a great religious schizophrenia in evidence. Despite Jeza's dictates, many people were flocking to churches, synagogues and temples desperately seeking solace, direction, hope. As often as not, they were met by angered ecclesiasts who were vigorously discrediting the Messiah and disputing her claims and prophecies.
Nevertheless, sizable numbers of clergy were submitting heart and soul to Jeza's commands, forsaking their churches. Particularly the Catholic Church, which had been most notably embarrassed at the convocation. Many congregations and former congregations shared a common despair and assumption that the end of the world was rapidly approaching. Incidents of panic attacks, nervous breakdowns, suicides and mass hysteria were common, particularly in the West. The level of these incidents exceeded even those that occurred during the infamous Black Eve of the millennium. Outbreaks of violence, however, were relatively few.
The world was in a Great Depression certainly more definitive than any previously experienced. In those parts of the globe where Monday morning had already arrived, absences from private- and public-sector jobs were widespread, effectively shutting down many important industries and government services, throwing everyday life into turmoil.
Although WNN would actually return Jeza to Cairo, as she had requested, hundreds of thousands of people were planning pilgrimages to the Holy Land in anticipation of the Messiah returning to Jerusalem for Judgment Day, as the Bible predicted. Their arrangements, however, were frustrated by the shortage of booking agents and travel personnel, who had deserted their posts.
The deteriorating situation was a serious concern to governments everywhere. It was particularly uncomfortable for U.S. President Allen Moore, who was now desperately seeking to distance himself from his recent house guest. On the TV above the bar, Feldman and his associates viewed Moore delivering a statement from the White House press room.
The president was reading from an index card: “… this administration had no forewarning regarding the content of this alleged prophet's message to the religious convention,” he said, his upper lip moist, his eyes having difficulty meeting the camera. “Furthermore, we wish to stress that, in keeping with typical biblical stories, the colorful comments heard earlier today are most certainly meant to be allegorical and are not, I repeat,
“Not very convincing, is he,” Hunter smirked.
“How can he be?” Cissy sympathized. “There's no questioning what Jeza said in that hall. And if you happen to believe in her, you're quaking on your knees right now, ticking off the minutes till the Cataclysm.”
“I have to say,” Feldman interjected, “some of her comments struck a chord with me. Like her points about man's obsession with religious trivia and rituals-those tiny pebbles theologians stumble over.”
Feldman vividly recalled what certain relatively minor distinctions between the Jewish and Catholic religions had done to disrupt his parents’ marriage. Many times, as a frightened, clueless little boy, he'd intervened futilely in bitter quarrels over trifling issues. In the grand scheme of things, did it truly matter whether the proper day of Sabbath was Saturday or Sunday?
Not to mention his parents’ great, classic bone of contention-whether or not Jesus Christ was, indeed, the promised Redeemer. This, too, was an inconsequential issue, Feldman had later come to decide. After all, the core principles of both the Jewish and Catholic faiths were the Ten Commandments, and since few on either side of the religious coin seemed to master even these simple, clear-cut tenets, Feldman saw no point in arguing more
