Sophia.”
“So they still haven’t lifted Jon’s fatwa yet?” Shannon wondered.
Osman shook his head. “Probably it would take a miracle, like the return of Muhammad from the dead, announcing, ‘Weber is innocent!’”
Again, Ferris and al-Ghazali commented on how Jon seemed less than enthusiastic about all the world media attention, his mind apparently elsewhere. Which it was. He was only waiting for an opening, which came when Ferris asked, “By the way, how goes your exploration of that codex?”
Instantly Jon came to life with an explosive smile. “Now that you ask,” he replied with a wink at Shannon, “you’ll understand why we must ask-no, demand-an even stronger pledge of absolute confidentiality. Agreed?”
Both men nodded.
“No, more than that. Arms up as if you were taking an oath, which this actually is…”
Both raised their palms, as if in court, curiosity dominating their features.
“Well, to discover one of the fifty actual copies Constantine commissioned Eusebius to prepare was sensation enough, you’ll recall. But in photographing it, we found two other items that merely escalate this ‘sensation’ into-shall we say-the cosmic category.”
“What in the world do you mean, Jon?” Ferris asked.
“How about both the lost ending of Mark and Second Acts?”
“Huh- what?” Ferris bellowed. “There’s another Acts? Maybe to finish Paul’s story?”
Jon nodded happily. “I haven’t translated it yet, but here’s the missing ending of Mark.” He handed printouts to both men, then gave a detailed account of how it all happened.
Slowly they recovered. Osman shook his head. “No wonder you didn’t seem all that impressed with what we brought you. All we had were merely your international headlines and stories!”
Jon chuckled. “But isn’t this more important?”
They agreed. Ferris then added, “Unless there’s some bombshell that hasn’t been discovered yet in your Second Acts, yes, Jon, this is more important-important enough to make every Bible… ever printed… in any language… anywhere in the world… outright outdated!”
It was a powerful and very sobering statement. Jon caught the danger immediately and said, “That’s most probably true, Dick, but if you put it that way, millions of Christians across the world may panic or go loony if they think their Bible has been supplanted. What we’ve found doesn’t subvert the Scriptures at all but instead supports them.”
Shannon, who had been silent for most of this, now spoke up. “Here’s another way to put it: the Bible is an immense and colorful mosaic of God’s revelation, but two important tesserae of that mosaic were missing. Now they’re back in place.”
The three men nodded slowly, then enthusiastically. “By george, she’s got it,” Ferris said.
Osman shook his head in wonder. “One ancient document changing history. How large did you say it is?”
“I didn’t say, but the pages measured about thirty-eight by thirty-five centimeters.”
“And the codex itself. It’s about, what, say, five inches thick?”
“About that-a shade more. Why do you ask?”
“I simply can’t wait to see it. When can we?”
“Only photos for now, my friends.”
They discussed future plans regarding the discovery, in which Richard Ferris and the Institute of Christian Origins would have to play a major role, and then their immediate plans for the return flight to the U.S. three days hence.
“Thanks for all your help, gentlemen,” Jon said. “Couldn’t have done it without you. I trust you’ll tie up all the loose ends with our Turkish hosts over the next two days? You will? Great. Now please get out of here so I can translate Second Acts.”
Second Acts proved much more reluctant to offer up its secrets than had the lost ending of Mark’s Gospel. Since none of this material had ever before appeared, none of the passages had the familiarity of the standard New Testament verses Jon had known since childhood and which had always eased the translation process. That awful running together of words in the codex was hardly a help either. Often, when he had just about parsed a sentence into separate words, the result made no sense and drove him back to try again with different word divisions. Here he was veritably lusting to learn what the document said, yet found it difficult to pry open the text. The new section from Mark had been so much easier because of common themes in the resurrection accounts.
Finally he threw down his pen. “I’ll never get this translated tonight, Shannon. I’m sure even modern Greeks would find some of these uncials hard to crack. But now that I’m getting a bit used to them, I will scan the whole text for key words so that we can get a general feeling of where it’s going and what it says.”
“That sounds like a good plan, dear. Would it help if I took notes?”
“That would be ever so kind of you.”
Jon went back to his computer screen and scanned the four columns of each page of Second Acts from the codex.
“Okay, here we go: ‘Paul… when Paul was released… Caesar-yes, Nero Caesar- great, Shannon!… Paul again… and Luke!… judged… Seneca?… Rome… Spain? Yes, Spain!”
Occasionally he used a magnifying glass to zoom in on faint lettering. “Crete… Titus… Ephesus… Alexander… Helios?… Praetorian Guard… Timothy… Via Ostiensis-the Ostian Way… fight… race… victory…”
After an hour of this, Jon felt a little defensive about failing to supply a quick, running translation. “It’s a little maddening with the words all run together.”
“Come, come now, Jon,” she teased. “The ancients could do it.”
“Okay, dear. Just see how it goes-even in English.” He quickly typed out the first two lines of his translation without spaces between the words and handed her a printout. “There you go, Shannon. Have at it. It’s all in perfect English.”
She read: ThisthirdtreatiseOTheophilusdealswithallthatbefellPaul afterAristarchusandIarrivedwithhiminRomeandwestayed inhisownrentedhousenearthePraetorian…
“And now imagine all that in a foreign language too,” Jon continued, “and in lettering so different from the norm that you nearly have to relearn the alphabet.”
“Point taken, Jon. I am impressed. You manuscript sleuths must be geniuses.”
“Hmmm… you wouldn’t be patronizing me now, would you?” A slight grin was warping his mouth.
“Of course I am. I want to patronize you for the rest of your life!” Then she gave him a lingering, passionate kiss.
After the embrace, Jon returned to the desk and turned off his laptop. “I’ll certainly have enough reading material on our flight back to the States! In fact, I’ll be lucky if I get all this translated in a month.”
On arrival at the patriarchate the next morning, Jon assured Brother Gregorios that this would be the last time he would have to descend to the geniza on their behalf since they were nearly finished. The archivist actually seemed disappointed. Perhaps, like colleagues in his profession, he cherished every part of his collection-even cast-off manuscripts-and he had enjoyed a fresh bond with two people strangely interested in the same.
Jon and Shannon settled in for their usual routine, opening the codex to where they had placed a simple bookmark. And sure enough, the pastoral epistles followed as part of the Pauline collection: Pros Timotheon A and B -1 and 2 Timothy-after which they photographed Pros Titon -Titus.
Jon smiled as he found this to be fresh ammunition against critics who claimed that Paul didn’t write the pastorals.
Then came the shortest book in the Bible, Pros Philamona -Philemon-and the anonymous Pros Ebraious - Hebrews. They even managed Iakobou Epistolay -Epistle of James-before lunch.
In the refectory, they were in an expansive mood with the end in sight for their epic project. While they dared not discuss it with the other churchmen and monks with whom they had become increasingly conversant, there was much else by way of luncheon topics-primarily, Jon modestly trying to deflect the praise heaped on him by black-robed fellow diners, all of whom had been present at Hagia Sophia. Before they finished their lunch, the secretary to the Ecumenical Patriarch assured them that His All Holiness would indeed welcome a parting visit from
