Vaughn’s stretch Mercedes came to a stop in front of Sha’ar HaArayot, the Lion’s Gate, one of eight gates leading into the Old City of Jerusalem.
The Lion’s Gate, located at the northeast corner of the Temple Mount, is also known as St. Stephen’s Gate, because it was not far from this location that the first Christian martyr was stoned to death at the instigation of Saul of Tarsus.
Abraham instructed the cabby to stop far enough back so that he wouldn’t be seen, then jumped out of the cab. Fortunately, there was no moon, and there was only a solitary light that was on in this area, so he was able to get quite close for the second time tonight.
Once again the driver got out and opened the doors of the Mercedes. Vaughn stepped out first, followed by Joseph Kingman. Andrew McCarthy and Amanda Crane got out on the opposite side.
This time, Antonio stayed in the limo.
Vaughn told the driver to take the car and wait for them a short distance up the road, in front of the Golden, or Eastern, Gate. “We’ll meet you there shortly,” the billionaire said in a scratchy, guttural voice. Once the limo was out of sight, he scanned the immediate area with hooded, ebony eyes. When he was satisfied that they were alone on the street, he said, “Follow me.”
Abe watched from the shadows as Vaughn produced a key and unlocked and opened the solid wooden door at the base of the stone wall, just inside the Lion’s gate. A set of ascending steps was revealed in the dim light. Vaughn motioned for his three companions to follow him up the stairs.
“They’re going up to the Temple Mount!” muttered Abe under his breath. “What on earth for?” As soon as the door closed behind them, Abe scrambled forward, wondering how he was going to get inside.
He didn’t have a key!
When he reached the door he was relieved to find that his nephew had left it unlocked. Casting a quick glance around to make sure that he wasn’t being followed, or watched, he opened the door, praying it wouldn’t creak, then slipped inside.
“Below us is the Valley of Jehoshaphat, more commonly called the Kidron Valley after the name of the stream that flows through it during the winter months,” said Vaughn, as he stretched forth his arm to point out the locations he was speaking about. The four companions were standing on the eastern portion of the Temple Mount, just above and behind the Eastern Gate. “To the left, across the valley is the Mount of Olives, and down there, to the right of where we’re standing, is the Valley of Hinnom.”
“Gehenna,” chimed in Joseph, translating the Hebrew into the more commonly known Greek.
“The valley of Hell,” muttered McCarthy. “The valley where in times past the Jews offered their children in sacrifice to Moloch by throwing them into the fire that constantly burned there.”
Amanda shivered. “How grotesque—”
Vaughn laughed. “The place where the worm never dies and the fire is never quenched,” he added. He turned from his perusal of the city and asked, “Do you believe in Hell, Andrew?”
“As a literal place, no I don’t. The concept is outdated. Granted, there is much in the way of biblical evidence suggesting that such a place of eternal damnation exists. However, one must understand that much of the Bible is simply allegory—stories designed to relate theological concepts in terms the mass of humanity can understand. The very nature of the phraseology used in the Bible to describe hell—’the blackness of darkness,’ ‘torment in fire and brimstone,’ ‘the place prepared for the devil and his angels’—tells us that the idea of a place of eternal torment is not to be taken literally. The imagery is designed to reinforce the belief that punishment for sin is future oriented and is meted out at the sole discretion of God.”
“Interesting,” replied Vaughn. “And you, Joseph. What do you think about Hell?”
“Even though there was a time in our history when the idea of heaven and hell had some currency, we Jews have always been more concerned about this world than the next. We believe it is more important to concentrate religious efforts toward building an ideal world for the living rather than focusing our attention on what the afterlife might be like.”
“What of the soul, then?” prodded Vaughn.
“We believe that an individual’s soul is immortal, but the nature of that immortality is known only to God. I agree with Maimonides, perhaps our nation’s greatest scholar. Only the immature are motivated by hopes of reward and fear of punishment. I remember my father once told me a parable about a visitor who arrived in Paradise, only to find that it was populated entirely by groups of old men all of whom were bent over studying the Talmud. Surprised by what he saw, the visitor questioned his angelic guide about what he saw. The angel answered him by saying, ‘You have the erroneous idea that men are in heaven, when in fact, heaven is in the men.’“
“Amanda?”
“Heaven and hell are states of mind. They are merely religious metaphors for positive and negative thinking. In order for one to believe in them as realities, one must also believe in the concept of sin. There is no such thing as sin. The Greek term simply means ‘missing the mark.’ Christianity has distorted that truth, along with a host of others, and convinced millions that they are going to hell if they don’t confess their sin and repent.”
Vaughn smiled. “I’m glad we’re in agreement. It makes things so much easier.”
“What things?” asked McCarthy.
Vaughn suggested they all sit down on one of the concrete benches the Muslim caretakers had constructed along the path winding through the heavily treed portion of the Temple Mount across from the Dome of the Rock. “Each of you has had a role to play in an invisible drama that has been unfolding now for a very long time—” he began.