02 The Secret on Ararat (6 page)

“Navarra had the wood carbon-fourteen-tested, along with other tests for lignite formation, grain density, cell modification, growth rings, and fossilization. His results suggested that it was about five thousand years old.”

The bell rang and everybody jumped. Murphy had lost track of time.

“Thanks for your interest, people. I’m sorry we’ve got to end it there, but next time we’re going to look at the stories of explorers who claimed to have actually entered Noah’s Ark.”

As he watched the students making their way out of the auditorium, he wondered if he would soon have a story of his own to tell.

EIGHT

IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL spring day on the Preston campus. Murphy had found a quiet table near where the lawn and small pond met. He got away, as far as he could, from the hustle and bustle of the students in the snack area. He was sipping a strawberry lemonade and thinking about the hand-size chunk of wood sitting in a locked cabinet in his lab.

Murphy was an archaeologist, not a biologist, by training. But lecturing on the ark had made him think about the incredible diversity of God’s creation—everything that Noah had saved from the Flood. As he looked out over the lush green campus, he could see the flowering dogwood with its blossoms of four white petals. Interspersed were the maples and the tulip trees with their yellow blossoms. He could also see the deeply furrowed cinnamon-red bark of the loblolly pine.

His interest began to focus on the azaleas surrounding
the pond. The fragrant smell of the trumpet-shaped flowers filled the air. The bees were flying in and out, getting their fill of nectar. Then he spotted a Venus flytrap. It was growing on the damp edges of the pond in the direct sunlight. Its trap was lined with sharp bristles and was open, the sensitive hairs ready for its prey to come along and touch them. Murphy did not have to wait long. A small fly landed on the outside of the plant and began to work its way toward the center. Murphy watched as it got closer and closer to the trigger hairs. Then it happened. In a flash the plant closed on its lunch.

Murphy stroked his chin thoughtfully. Was someone trying to tell him something? That beautiful things can also be deadly, perhaps?

Before he had time to figure it out, his solitude ended.

“Professor Murphy! Could we ask you a few questions?”

Turning, he saw several students from his archaeology class.

“Sure,” he said, motioning for them to sit down. It was sometimes frustrating when he wanted to just sit and think, but he couldn’t complain if his students were interested enough in his subject to track him down with burning questions. That was what being a teacher was all about.

“We’ve been talking about Noah’s Ark,” said a skinny young man with long, unruly hair. “Like, could it really have happened the way it’s written in the Bible? How could Noah have gotten all the animals on the ark, for instance?”

“Good question,” Murphy said as he reached for his briefcase. He opened it and took out a folder. He looked through it and pulled out a piece of paper.

“Here is a paper put together by Ernst Mayr. You may not be familiar with his name, but he is one of America’s leading taxonomists. He lists on this table the number of animal species. Here, take a look at it.”

Murphy handed them the sheet, which read:

Total Animal Species
Mammals	3,700
Birds	8,600
Reptiles	6,300
Amphibians	2,500
Fishes	20,600
Tunicates, etc.	1,325
Echinoderms	6,000
Arthropods	838,000
Mollusks	107,250
Worms, etc.	39,450
Coelenterates, etc.	5,380
Sponges	4,800
Protozoa	28,400
Total	1,072,305

“Over a million species! No one could have built a boat big enough to hold that kind of number, could they? Especially if there were two of everything, right?” said one of the students.

“It does seem like a lot,” admitted Murphy. “But, of course, many of those species didn’t have to be on the
ark to survive the flood. The fishes, tunicates, echinoderms, mollusks, coelenterates, sponges, protozoa, and many of the arthropods and worms would have been better off staying in the ocean. And many of the animals that did need to live on the ark were small, like mice, cats, birds, and sheep. If you look at the larger animals like the elephants and giraffes and hippos, they are the exception. Most animals are small, and many experts in the field do not believe that there were any more than fifty thousand land animals on the ark.”

“That’s still a lot of animals!” said another of the students.

“True, but there was more room on the ark than you realize. Let me see if I can help you visualize it. The average train stock car has a volume of 2,670 cubic feet. The ark was estimated to be about 450 long, 45 feet high, and 75 feet wide. That would produce a volume of around 1,518,750 cubic feet. Now, divide the 2,670 cubic feet of the boxcar into the volume on the ark and it would equal 569 standard railroad stock cars.”

“That’s a long train!” said one of the students, laughing.

“Keep following the illustration. If you double-deck a stock car, you can haul 240 animals the size of a sheep. Now multiply 240 animals times 569 stock cars and you get approximately 136,560 animals that could have been put into the ark. Subtract the estimated fifty thousand animals on the ark and you would have space for 86,560 more animals the size of a sheep. Only about thirty-six percent of the ark would have to have been used for animals. The rest could have been for food storage and living quarters for Noah and his family.”

“I had no idea there was so much math involved in biblical archaeology,” said the skinny student, shaking his head. But he wasn’t beaten yet. “Okay, there’s room on the ark for everybody, but where did they get water for all of those animals to drink? Weren’t they on the ocean, which was loaded with salt water?”

The rest of the students nodded.

“You’ve got to remember that most of the Flood consisted of rain water. With water covering the highest mountains, the salt water of the oceans could have been diluted enough to drink. They could also have collected rainwater from the roof and stored it in cisterns on the ark.”

They seemed convinced. But there was one more question. “Professor Murphy, why haven’t they found more artifacts from Noah’s Ark if so many people have seen it?”

Murphy smiled. He liked the way his students challenged his beliefs and his faith. It meant he really had to be sure about what he believed and able to defend it against all comers.

“We’re not sure. One possibility may be tied to the Monastery of St. Jacob.”

“Where’s that?” asked one of the girls.

“The Monastery of St. Jacob was located on Mount Ararat. It is said to have been established in the fourth century by a monk named St. Jacob of Nisibis. The monks of St. Jacob’s took on the responsibility of guarding the sacred relics of the ark. In 1829, Dr. J. J. Friedrich Parrot visited the monastery. Apparently he was shown ancient artifacts from the ark.”

“What were they? And where are they today?” queried one of the boys.

“I wish I knew,” said Murphy. “In 1840 a tremendous earthquake hit Mount Ararat. It caused a huge landslide. Two thousand people were killed in the village of Ahora below the Ahora Gorge, and the whole community, along with St. Jacob’s Monastery, was buried. All of the relics were buried with them. If Ed Davis’s account of seeing the ark is valid, some of the artifacts are still hidden in a cave on Ararat. They may even still be guarded by people of faith.”

A heavyset student named Morris spoke up and changed the direction of the conversation.

“Professor Murphy, you mentioned that Jesus talked about the days of Noah and the days of Lot in Sodom. What did he mean?”

Murphy was glad he’d been given an opening to talk to them about more spiritual things. “He was talking about how wicked society was. The Book of Genesis says:
The Lord saw how great man’s wickedness on earth had become, and that every inclination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil all the time
. God was going to judge man for his evil by the Flood. When Jesus said,
As in the days of Noah
, He was referring to the fact that when He comes again in judgment, it will be to a world that is filled with people who do not care about the things of God. Just like the people didn’t care in Noah’s, or Lot’s days.”

Some of the students seemed a little stunned by what he was saying. Murphy smiled.

“Let me ask you a question, Morris. Do you think that society today believes in any absolute morals?”

Morris considered his answer carefully. He didn’t want to get caught by some sort of trick question.

“I guess most of my friends and the people I know would say that there are no such things as moral absolutes. They’d say that we should learn to be tolerant and accept other people’s points of view.”

Murphy nodded. “The traditional definition of tolerance is living peaceably alongside others in spite of differences. But that view of tolerance has been twisted today to mean that everyone must accept the other person’s viewpoints without question because truth is relative. What’s true for one person may not be true for another person, right?”

“Right,” said Morris, a little uncertainly.

“That was exactly what was happening in the days of Noah and in the days of Lot. Everyone was doing what was right in their own eyes. And it’s the same today. Society preaches tolerance of every viewpoint and everyone—with one big exception: those people who have a strong religious faith. That’s where their double-standard tolerance ends. Incredibly, people of faith are persecuted precisely because they do believe in absolute truth, in absolute moral values. That’s exactly what Jesus was talking about.” He paused and looked each student in the eye before continuing. “It makes me wonder if we are living in the days before the next coming judgment. That would be something to think about, wouldn’t it?”

Murphy was worried that he’d come on a little strong, but he was a man of conviction and faith and he wasn’t about to hide it from anyone. And what could be more important than getting people to think seriously
about the next judgment? He did not want anyone to be left behind when they could be on the ark of safety, and if he could do anything about it, he would.

Murphy looked at his watch.

“Say, gang, it was good to talk with you. I need to head on to my next class. Keep thinking about all of this. It’s important!”

No one spoke as he walked away.

NINE

“I’LL TAKE A CAFFÉ MOCHA, please.”

The Starbucks next to the Preston University campus was one of Shari’s favorite spots. It was always filled with faculty professors and college students, as well as many students from the nearby Hillsborough High School, but Shari still felt somehow she was getting away from it all.

Sitting at one of the umbrella-covered tables with her baseball cap low over her face, she could just watch the people and imagine she had no troubles. Or, as she was planning to do this afternoon, she could concentrate on someone else’s.

“Excuse me, are you Shari Nelson?”

Shari turned and looked into the face of Tiffany Baines. With her golden shoulder-length hair and sparkling brown eyes, she looked like a cheerleader, not a delinquent. Dressed in her white sweatshirt with the
large red cardinal emblem on the front, the words
Tar Heels
under it, it was hard to imagine her tossing beer cans out of a moving car.

“You must be Tiffany.” Shari stood and shook her hand. “Sit down and let me get you something. What would you like?”

“Thanks. A latte would be good.”

Tiffany was so different from what Shari had expected that, when Shari returned with her drink, she wasn’t quite sure how to begin. “Have you been watching the Tar Heels this year?”

“Yes, I don’t miss a game—except I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“I was born and raised in Raleigh, and I watch games all the time. And I have a shirt on that says Tar Heels, but I don’t know what Tar Heels means. Can you believe that?”

Shari smiled, not sure whether or not this dumb but sweet persona was all an act. “It all began back in the Civil War. North Carolina was under attack from the Union army. The Confederate army withdrew, leaving the North Carolinians to fight the battle alone. Those who remained to fight threatened to put tar on the heels of the Confederate troops so that they would ‘stick better in the next fight.’” Tiffany nodded and Shari asked, “Are you sure you didn’t know that?”

“Cross my heart,” Tiffany said with a smile, and for some reason Shari believed her.

Having broken the ice, Shari decided to get down to business. “I was talking with Pastor Bob at the Preston Community Church. I know you’ve been going there
with your mom for a while now. With that hair you’re kind of hard to miss—even across a crowded church.”

Tiffany sighed. “I guess I kind of stand out, don’t I? Believe me, I’d rather just fade into the background sometimes.” Suddenly she looked serious. “Pastor Bob just said he thought I might want to talk to someone my own age who attends the church, in case I thought it was all just old folks like him. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? I’m not as dumb as I look, you know.”

Shari nodded. “Pastor Bob said you had some problems at home. And you might find it easier talking to me about them than to, well, some of the ‘old folks,’ I guess. But if you don’t want to, that’s okay.”

Tiffany took a long sip of her latte, then put the paper cup down on the table. “No, I don’t mind talking. You look like a good listener.”

“I do try to listen.” Shari nodded. “And not to judge. But if sharing my experiences helps in any way, then I’m happy to do that too.”

“Fair enough,” said Tiffany, and proceeded to tell Shari about her fights with her father and all the trouble she was getting in from hanging out with the wrong crowd.

When she finally finished, Shari didn’t offer any comment. “You know, I used to be pretty rebellious too, when I was younger.”

“You did?”

“You bet. My father and I had a lot of confrontations. It got pretty bad in my senior year of high school. I threatened to run away from home a number of times. I even began to experiment with drugs and alcohol.”

Tiffany’s mouth hung open in amazement.

“It was during my first year of college that things turned around and got better.”

“How come?”

“Well, I met some college students who belonged to a Christian campus club. They asked me if I was happy. I told them that I wasn’t. They then told me I could be.”

Shari went on to tell Tiffany how these students reached out to her and became her friends.

“One day they asked me if I believed in God. They shared with me how everyone does wrong things and how our sins and wrongs separate us from a holy God. They went on to assure me that God loves me. He loved me so much that He sent His Son, Jesus, to die in my place. Jesus paid the penalty for me and rose from the dead to prepare a place in heaven for me. They asked if I would like to receive Christ into my life, and I did. From that day things began to change.”

“What kind of things are you talking about?”

“Well, one of the first things I realized was that I had been hurt in my relationship with my father. I could never seem to please him. And I wanted to, desperately. My hurt led to anger. I then began to experience depression. I began to not trust people. Especially my father. I lost respect for him, and resentment and bitterness replaced the hurt. That’s when I began to strike out in rebellion. I didn’t realize what had been going on until I came to know Christ.”

“What did you do?”

“I asked my father for forgiveness for my attitude. It was wrong. Even though he had done wrong, I had too. I apologized for my part. He began to cry and asked me
to forgive him.” She brushed away a tear. “That was quite a day.”

“Are things good between you and him now?”

Shari took a deep breath. “My mother and father were killed in an accident not too long ago. We had about a year and a half of great times before he was killed. I just look back with such regret for all the wasted time. Life is so short, and we seem to hurt the ones we really love the most.”

Shari unconsciously began to fondle the silver cross around her neck. Her father had given it to her as a reminder of their renewed relationship. She sat there for a moment looking into space, not seeing the people walking by. Another tear ran down her cheek, and this time she let it.

Tiffany was silent. When she felt that Shari was able to talk again, she said, “Thanks for sharing that with me, Shari. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

Shari smiled. “Any time. Do you want another coffee?”

“Thanks,” Tiffany said, getting up, “but right now there’s something I have to do. I really need to go talk to my dad.”