With affection and gratitude for you, our best friends and readers, this post and the next one will be a chapter out of my new science fiction book, The First Son, an alternate view of the great turning points in history over the climactic period from 3100 BC through the Resurrection.
Many of you will sense a familiarity with the story in this chapter. What’s new is the viewpoint of five characters who are witnessing and participating in the unfolding event as Agents of Cosmic Intelligence, which is also the name of the series of 15 novels I am currently writing.
In this first published book of the series, ancient legends and mysteries are seen in a different light, connecting seemingly disconnected fragments of history, and introducing the invisible side of things as they might have happened.
One night as Mary sat in meditation in her cell in the Temple, an unusual light crept to the barred arched window high above. It drew her attention and as she watched, the light grew brighter and expanded slowly down the walls until the room shone as if a full moon was exactly at the correct angle to illumine the room. Enchanted by this thought, she stood and tried to step into position to see the full moon but it was not there, and then she remembered that she had seen the full moon a week or so ago, so the light could not be coming from the moon.
Mary, a kind voice said in her mind and she was suddenly very alert. Her heart was beating loudly in her ears. Don’t be afraid, Mary, the voice said, for you have found favor in God’s eyes.
The Agents invisibly present were silent out of respect for an Archangel. It was Gabriel, also invisible, and come from far away as messenger of The One.
Mary prostrated herself on the floor, realizing it was an Angel, and sensing other Angels around her. Technically, Agents were of a different order than Angels, but Mary did not know of such distinctions. She spoke aloud, softly. “What can I do for God that He sends you to me? Please name it, and I shall obey.”
You shall have a son, who will be The First Son of God, and you shall name him Yeshua Immanuel. He comes to free Israel and all creatures on Earth of the reign of sinfulness, the Angel responded.
“But I am a virgin, and betrothed to Joseph,” Mary said before she could stop herself, and then regretted having said anything that showed doubt.
You will still be a virgin when you marry Joseph, although by that time God will have planted His seed in you.
“You know that I could be stoned to death as an adulteress. Even Joseph who is good, and trusts me, may depart from me.”
You are protected, Mary, I shall speak with Joseph, and no harm will befall you. When you are married and Joseph knows you for the first time, his faith in you will be vindicated forever.
“Then I am the Lord’s handmaiden, to be done with as He wilt.” She felt something overtake her then and had to lie down. A softness gently pressed her from above, and she felt infinite joy and wellbeing, swooning as she felt the first stirrings of a new life within her.
Mary confided to Joseph what had happened the next time he visited her. He believed her but still felt conflicted until Gabriel visited him in a dream and set his mind to rest. Once Mary told Hillel, he advised her to spend the rest of her pregnancy with Mary’s cousin Elizabeth and Elizabeth’s husband Zachariah in a hill town of Judea, in order to avoid trouble as the pregnancy began to show and most people would be cynical. Elizabeth, he told her, had an unusual pregnancy too, given her advanced age. An Angel had also come to Zachariah to inform him that as he and his wife had long prayed, they would have a son, who would be an important servant of God. When Elizabeth welcomed Mary, Elizabeth felt her son jump for joy in her belly. Her son would later become an Essene known as John the Baptist. He had also been Ezekiel. His real name of course was Melchizedek.
Mary returned home in time to give birth in Nazareth, but upon arriving, Joseph told her they would have to set out for Bethlehem to register in the census ordered by Caesar Augustus. Bethlehem was back in Judea, from whence Mary had just come. “Why Bethlehem?” she asked.
“Because I am—and we are—of the house of David,” Joseph said, and Bethlehem was the city of David. Now that they were married, Joseph fully trusted her, having confirmed for himself that she was still a virgin on their wedding night. This miracle affirmed everything he had been taught by Hillel and everything that his intuition had told him was true since his earliest memories.
I suspect the whole census hokum was cooked up to find Him. Templegard/Menachem expressed all of their feelings, except Melchizedek’s, who was only half-awake within the Baptist, in Elizabeth’s womb.
Herod’s magicians sensed it and read it in the omens, Maitreya/Hillel reminded them. All of Herod’s Arya were semi-awake Rebels. Kings decreeing the slaughter of all male sons was a well-established Rebel practice whenever the shamans sensed an enemy being born. It had gone on for millennia on Earth, and much longer across the multiverse. This was old hat to the Agents.
When Mary and Joseph arrived in Bethlehem, Mary was weary and felt her time to be near. Joseph had rehearsed and was ready to tell a guard at the gate why he was ordered to enter and about Mary’s condition, when the guard winked. Joseph was startled and stared as the guard gently led them in, suspiciously not even saying a word of explanation to the other guards and the officer. Nastassia, appearing as a burly young male, led the couple in and although a foreign mercenary who would be expected to be hustling them along all the more cruelly for supposedly knowing Mary’s condition—Joseph somehow had a feeling that he knew—did nothing to hasten their pace, which given the journey was that of a much older couple.
“She’ll be coming soon,” Nastassia observed to Joseph. Joseph looked at him levelly, wondering at the intimacy and if the guard had evil intent.
“We could have found a room, actually. Despite the horde of visitors there are still kin who have space,” Nastassia explained, leading them to an active barn with many animals, many of them chickens trailing chicks, but no other people. Layla was also there but not presently visible. Joseph’s nose crinkled in disgust at the smells of animals where Nastassia now pointed at a very clean and large bed made of hay in a charming corner with outside lighting. There were rose petals on it. Mary petted a baby lamb that had rubbed her calf and looked up adoringly. The chickens ran in all directions with their tail of chicks as the humans and pseudohuman came into the space.
“There are misguided people who want your child to die,” Nastassia whispered in Joseph’s ear, confirming his worst fears. “Don’t panic, we your friends are all around you. You’re always safe in God’s hands.”
Joseph and Mary both profusely thanked the young man, who smiled back and said, “My sister will be here to help with the birth. She’s right outside.”
In the alleyway where nobody could see, Layla appeared in a clean white apron, with towels and pockets stuffed with things, and holding a silver bowl of slightly steamy water. She had a red bandana on her blonde head and a pink scarf, and no shoes. She peeked in and saw the couple waving her to come in, so she did. Nastassia disappeared as soon as “he” stepped out of sight.
Joseph and Layla helped Mary get comfortable on the bed. “What’s your name, sister?” Mary inquired respectfully of the girl even younger than herself.
“I’m a Mary too,” Layla said, and Mary took her meaning that they were both nuns.
“Thank you so much,” Joseph said to the other Mary.
Inside the soon-to-be mother Mary was a confrontation of which she was caused to be unaware, although this was against Perse’s will. Perse had come to intimidate his older brother, or perhaps even tempt him, depending on how it went.
You know I could kill you right now, Perse pathed, and Yeshua merely smiled inside Mary’s womb. Maitreya, Templegard and Nastassia prepared for mental combat, as did Layla, though showing no sign of it.
Excerpted from THE FIRST SON, Chapters 23–24, pp 118–123, ©2018, Bill Harvey
Best to all,