The burnt-orange tendrils of the Ethiopian sun were just beginning to curl up over the horizon in the deep, blue sky. Lucas Pryce carefully unrolled the red Persian rug on the floor of his hotel room, for he needed to perform the ritual before the sun began making its trek across the sky.
He had purchased the rug a decade ago after he had converted to the ancient religion when his life was falling apart. His wife left him for another man. Both his daughter and son sided with Mom, blaming him for breaking up the family. He had been temporarily denied tenure for lack of professional ambition, which meant he hadn't bolstered the name of Harvard with enough journal articles or critical archaeological discoveries. He fell into a deep depression and was searching for something, anything that would give his life meaning and direction. Something that he could use to put the pieces of his life back together again.
He had always been religiously curious, even as a child. Though raised Presbyterian, he had visited different denominations with his friends in Junior High and High School. The Baptists were too right-wing. The Pentecostal gatherings were interesting, far livelier than the frozen-chosen Presbyterians he had grown up with. But they were also too weird. Same for the Catholics, with the whole body-and-blood-of-Jesus bit. In college, he had dabbled in a bit of Hinduism and Buddhism. That's what everyone was doing in the ‘60s and ‘70s—and with a little bit of ganja on the side to heighten the spiritual experience. But neither had hit the mark. Too woo-woo for his taste.
He ended up leaving behind faith altogether. His life seemed perfectly fine without the trappings and guilt of religion. He had fallen in love. He had sailed through university and then into a PhD program that led to a prestigious professorship at one of America's premier universities. They'd had the 2.5 kids required of middle-class living; one girl, one boy, and a fixed mutt-of-a-dog. Eventually, they grew up, moved out of the house, then on to equally prestigious careers in law and medicine. Life was great.
Until it wasn’t.
A close colleague of his knew of his troubles and tried to help. They weren’t close, but friendly. Enough so that the Muslim gave him a copy of a Qur’an, said it had the answers his life needed.
At the time, he laughed inside at the quaint, proselytizing gesture. But he thought, Why not? He had spent enough time with the world religions to know they were basically the same. What harm could come from engaging with one more? He considered it an academic exercise, boning up on Islam just when the world had grown far more interested and aware in the religion thanks to the jihadist lunatics. But reading the sacred book struck him in a way that others hadn't, connecting with his own spiritual convictions.
He started reading pages in the Qur’an each day, and he stumbled upon a striking passage:
Truly God alters not what is in a people until they alter what is in themselves.
In other words: Allah helps those who help themselves.
As a teenager and later as a college student, it had always struck him as ridiculous that a god would offer the promise of personal meaning and the removal of inner angst for free. Grace, the Christians called it. Unmerited favor. Pryce knew that nothing in life was free, yet Christianity offered salvation as a gift for the taking. Not of works, so no one can boast, one of their early missionary teachers wrote.
Preposterous!
Even Judaism required people to get their hands dirty with the blood of slaughtered animals for their sins, shoving their affront and offense against their god in their face. And their laws were thought to be the maintenance work needed to stay in the good graces of that god.
Islam was different. Their doctrines were rational and straightforward. It was a practical religion that promised personal inner peace, salvation even for aligning one's life with the laws of Allah. The Qur’an expects a person to help himself by changing their own attitude and behavior before Allah will come to their aid. The principle is the same as that in Aesop's proverb: those who expect divine help must first get the ball rolling themselves. And it offered a structure for a person like Pryce to save himself by pulling himself up by his own existential bootstrap. While he still remained secret about his spirituality, over time he grew to understand his chosen faith, falling in love with its worldview that empowered the individual to rise above themselves—ultimately saving themselves.
Pryce had discovered that everyone is a ball of divine potential that is blinded by ignorance. The gravitational attraction of worldly pleasures draws people toward the depths of the material world, and they know not what they are doing. As a result, they fall and become degenerate. Selfishness and temptation become embodied in individuals until it coalesces into civilization-wide catastrophe. Isn't that what happened to his family, and what had been happening increasingly in the West for generations?
The solution wasn’t the blood of dead animals or the blood of a dead God-Man. What we need is a lifting of the veil of ignorance, an unveiling of divine knowledge. Secret knowledge that will empower individuals to rise to the challenge of living to their best, divine potential by living up to Allah’s divine standard. That’s what the chaos of the world needs most. Guidance. A Way. A new epoch of spiritual enlightenment. Which he was about to provide.
And all thanks to Silas Grey.
Pryce’s archaeological career had mostly consisted of rehashing Holy Land dig sites that first-wave Europeans had uncovered during the century of fevered exploration in the Middle East. But finding the Ark scrolls had established him as a bona fide archaeologist and liberal guardian of culture.
Those scrolls were a talisman of good luck that righted his career, and life—his wife and kids be damned. Between the scroll and the Qur’an, things had never been better. The Qur’an gave his life structure and a way to make his life right. The scroll gave him purpose and meaning, sending him down a path that led to a celebrated journal article on the connection between Islam and the Ark of the Covenant. Which led to a fortuitous encounter with Rudolf Borg, who became the benefactor that eventually led him to standing in an Ethiopian hotel.
Pryce stood in the center and smiled at his fortune, at having been chosen by Allah for such a time as this. He raised both hands up to his ears, palms facing the direction of Mecca, and repeated his religion’s mantra three times: “Allahu Akbar.”
God is the greatest.
He lowered his arms then closed his eyes, relaxing his body and breathing deliberately. Then he brought his arms up to his chest, placing the right hand on top of the left hand.
“Audhu billahi,” he intoned, “min ashshayta nirrajeem.”
I seek God’s shelter from Satan, the condemned.
He took a breath, then continued. The prayer of his chosen religion had been burned into Pryce’s consciousness over the years:
In the name of God, the Most Gracious, Most Merciful. All praise is due to God, Lord of the Worlds, The Most Gracious, the Most Merciful, Master of the Day of Judgment, You alone we worship and You alone we ask for assistance. Guide us along the straight path. The path of those upon whom You have bestowed Your blessings, not the path of those with whom You are angry nor the path of those who have gone astray.
“Aameen.”
Keeping his eyes closed, he recited a selection from the Holy Qur’an, the Chapter Of Sincerity, chapter twelve: In the name of God, the Most Kind, Most Merciful say, "He is God, the One, God the Eternal, dependent upon nothing, yet everything is dependent upon Him, He does not give birth, nor was He born, and there is nothing like unto Him."
“Allahu Akbar.” He bent over, his back and legs perpendicular to each other, and recited three times, “Subhana rabbiyal azeem.”
Glory be to my Lord, the Almighty.
Retreating to the standing position of the first prayer, he said, “Sami’allaahu liman hamidah.”
God hears those who praise Him.
“Rabbana wa lakal hamd.”
Our Lord, praise be to You.
A flash of excitement pinged his gut at the thought of all that had transpired the past few days. As well as all that would transpire in the days ahead. He smiled briefly, then cursed himself for allowing self-centered thoughts to invade this holy space.
“Allahu Akbar,” he quickly said, reorienting his heart and continuing the sacred ritual.
He bent down. While prostrating himself on the well-worn red mat, he said three times, "Subhana rubbiyal a'ala."
Glory be to my Lord, the Most High.
He bent his torso backward, saying, "Allaahu Akbar." Then he sat for a moment, breathing deeply and centering himself around the will of Allah for the day ahead. "Allaahu Akbar."
He prostrated himself again and repeated the prayer: “Subhana rubbiyal a’ala.”
He stood back up and repeated the process, ending in the same prostrated posture before reciting: Salutations, all good things, and all prayers are for God. The peace and mercy of God be upon you, O Muhammad. Peace be upon all of us, and upon His righteous servants. I bear witness that there is no God except God and I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of God.
He paused, eyes closed and holding his position. He took a deep breath and continued: O God bestow honor upon Muhammad and upon his family just as You have bestowed honor upon Abraham and his family. And O God, bestow Your blessings upon Muhammad and his family just as You have bestowed Your blessings upon Abraham and his family. In all of the worlds, You are the most praised and the most glorious.
Pryce breathed inward slowly, feeling the power of the ancient religion coursing through him, his will becoming one with Allah’s.
He stood back up, keeping his feet close together and back straight, then carefully repeated all of the necessary steps again. Islam was demanding, exacting. Yet it anchored his life and empowered him in a way Christianity never had.
Having repeated the entire ritual of postures and prayers, Pryce turned to face the right, and said, “Assalamu alaykum wa rahma tullaah.”
May the Peace and mercy of God be upon you.
Then he turned his face to the left, concluding, “Assalamu alaykum wa rahma tullaah.”
May the Peace and mercy of God be on you.
The sun had risen over the horizon, a bright orb in a clear sky of possibility. A good omen for Pryce and the work Nous would accomplish that day.
He breathed deeply and smiled. With the blessings of Allah at his back, he was ready to retrieve the sacred relic, the hidden covenant, bringing to light the necessary piece for the redeemer of Islam to emerge.
And usher in the Islamic End Times—a new epoch of spiritual enlightenment, guidance, and rule.