The Prophet – Chapter 02

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Is it possible…
That there exists an ancient mystery that holds the secret of America’s future?
That this mystery lies behind everything from 9/11 to the collapse of the global economy?
That ancient harbingers of judgment are now manifesting in America?
That God is sending America a prophetic message of what is yet to come?

Chapter two, The Prophet a seal.
She repeated as she continued her examination of the object in her hands. And what exactly is a seal?
It’s what they use in ancient times to mark a document as authentic or authoritative.
She laid it down on the table and the markings, letters. He said Paleo Hebrew engravings, Paleo Hebrew.
I’ve never heard of it. It’s an ancient form of Hebrew script. Are you some kind of an archaeologist?
No, he replied, a journalist, a freelance journalist. Wait a minute, Kalin Noriel Kalin. I knew the name was familiar.
You’ve done pieces in magazines and on the internet. Guilty. Why didn’t it hit me before?
She shook her head back and forth in her amazement over not having recognized the name at the start.
So you’re not crazy after all. She said almost apologetically. Some would disagree with such a presumption.
He answered at that, her demeanor and tone became markedly less guarded, but this has to be a departure for you.
How did you get involved with it? This is how he said lifting the clay seal from the table.
This is what began everything. How did you get it? Believe it or not. It came in the mail.
You ordered it. No, I didn’t order it and I wasn’t expecting it.
It just came a small brown package with my name and address and no return address inside.
Was this ancient looking seal? Nothing else? No letter of explanation. Nothing. And what did you think?
I didn’t know what to think. What was I supposed to make of it?
It had no connection to anything in my life who would have sent it to me with no explanation.
I put it away, but it continued to intrigue me one day it was late afternoon.
I found myself unable to stop thinking about it. I decided to go outside for some fresh air.
I put the seal in my coat pocket and went for a walk along the Hudson River.
It was a windy day. The sky was dark, filled with ominous looking clouds.
After some time, I sat down on one of the benches overlooking the water.
I took out the seal and began examining it. I wasn’t alone on the bench.
There was a man sitting to my left looks like a storm.
He said without turning to me or interrupting his gaze which was fixed on the sky above the water.
It does. I replied, that’s when he decided to look first at me and then at the seal in my hand and that’s when the intensity of his gaze first struck me.
What’s that? He asked some archaeological artifact. May I see it? He said, I promise to be careful.
I was reluctant, but for some reason thinking back, I don’t know exactly why I agreed to his request.
He began examining its details. Do you have any idea what it is?
I asked where did you get it? Why? It’s very interesting.
It’s an ancient seal, which is what he continued seals.
Like this one were used to mark important documents, edicts, decrees, communications by kings, rulers, princes, priests and scribes.
In ancient times. The seal was the sign of authenticity.
It would let you know that the message was real from someone important and to be taken seriously.
What about the writing? It’s an ancient Paleo Hebrew from, I would say the sixth to seventh century BC.
How did you get it? Someone sent it to me who, I don’t know, he removed his gaze from the object just long enough to make eye contact with me as if surprised by my response.
You don’t know who sent it to you? No, someone just sent you this in the mail.
How do you know so much about it about seals? Yes. Ancient objects are a hobby of mine.
It’s Judean Judean, the seal is from the Kingdom of Judah and that’s significant very, it’s where most of the Bible came from.
The Kingdom of Judah, Israel. There was never a people for whom the authenticity of a written word meant so much for them.
It was a matter of life or death. You see God spoke to them.
He sent them words, prophetic messages of correction messages to save them from calamity.
If they ignored such a message, the result would be catastrophic.
And God sent these words, how through his messengers, through his servants, the prophets and how exactly would he send these messages?

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The prophet would receive the word through impart a vision, a dream, an utterance, a sign.
He would then be responsible to deliver the word to the Nation, either by proclaiming it or by committing it to writing or by performing a prophetic act.
And how would the nation know if a word came from God or not?
If it was authentic, how would you recognize an authentic prophet? It wouldn’t be by his appearance.
He said, if that’s what you mean, he wouldn’t necessarily look any different from anyone else except that he was called, he could be a prince or a farmer, a shepherd, a carpenter.
He could be sitting right next to you and you’d have no idea you were sitting next to a prophet.
It wasn’t about the prophet but about the one who sent him.
So then how would they know if the message was from God?
It would contain the mark, the fingerprint of the one who sent it like a seal. Yes, like a seal.
And the word would come at the appointed time when the nation needed to hear it in critical times and in times of apostasy and danger, danger of judgment, he replied, and would they listen to the prophets?
Some would most would not, they prefer to hear pleasant messages.
But the messages of the prophets weren’t meant to make them feel good, but to warn them.
So the prophets were persecuted and then came judgment calamity destruction. He handed me back the seal.
It was him said, Anna breaking her silence, the man on the bench, he was the prophet. Yes.
He was letting you know that when he said he could be sitting right next to you. Exactly.
What did he look like? Somewhat thin, dark hair, a closely cropped beard.
He was a Mediterranean or Middle Eastern looking. And what was he wearing a long dark coat?
He was always wearing the same coat every time I saw him. So he handed you back the seal. Yes.
And I asked him, so why would anyone want to send me an ancient seal? A seal?
He said, bears witness to a message that it’s authentic or that it’s of great importance?
But what would that have to do with me?
I asked, I don’t have anything to do with messages of great importance.
Maybe you do and just don’t know it.
You’re very mystical, you know, or maybe he said you’re about to receive one.
What do you mean a message of great importance?
He replied, his left hand had been resting on his lap for the entire length of the conversation closed.
That’s when he opened it in the middle of his palm was a seal. No. Said Hannah.
Now leaning forward in her chair, how could he have?
But he did a seal like yours like mine, except with different markings. But how did he? Exactly.
That’s what I wanted to know. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t process it.
My heart was pounding and my voice grew tense. What’s that?
I asked, I knew what it was but I didn’t know how else to say it. A seal.
He replied, what I meant was, what are you doing with a seal? What am I doing with a seal?
The question is, what are you doing with a seal? How did you get that?
I countered, I told you, it’s my hobby. I collect them. You collect seals. Yes.
You’re the one I said, my voice filled with tension and rising. You’re the one behind it.
You’re the one who sent it to me. What is this all about?
It’s all about finding out what it’s all about. How do you do this?
How did you manage to, you’ve been following me following you? I was the one sitting on the bench.
You’re the one who came after? Are you sure you weren’t following me?
I don’t even know you nevertheless, you were the one who came after. He was right.
Of course, he couldn’t have been following me. He was already there.
I was the one who sat down next to him.
And yet in his hand was a seal just like the one in mine as if he knew I would come as if he had been waiting.
But it was a rare thing for me to go there. It wasn’t planned.
And I was the one who chose to sit down at that particular bench and to take out the seal.
At that particular moment. I asked him again, what is this all about? You’ve been given a seal?
He said, where there’s a seal? There must be a message. Do you have a message?
No, I replied almost defensively. I don’t have any message at that.
He paused and just stared for a few moments into the distance.
Then he turned to me and looking directly into my eyes, uttered his reply.
But I do, what do you mean? I asked? But I do have a message. What message?
I have a message for you. At that point, I was almost shaking. I got up from the bench.
I don’t think so. I said in a voice now tense with anxiety.
I have no idea how you managed to do this, but it has nothing to do with me.
It’s the time he replied, I wanted to run, but I couldn’t, I was torn between two impulses, the urge to get as far away from that bench as I could and the need to hear what he had to say.
I was frozen and then he spoke again. It’s the time Noriel, Noriel. I replied, almost shouting.
How did you, how could he have possibly known your name?
Anna interjected a good question, but he never answered it instead.
He turned his gaze back to the distance ahead and continued speaking.
It’s the appointed time but not for an ancient nation.
It’s time for the word to be given, for the mystery to be revealed, for the message to go forth.
It’s the appointed time but not for an ancient nation. This has nothing to do with me.
I said again, then why were you given the seal? He asked, who are you?
I countered, he didn’t answer that but just looked at me.
It was a silence as intense as anything else that took place that day. I couldn’t stay there any longer.
So you left him? She asked, yes. And what did he do when you left? I don’t know.
I didn’t look back. So how did you make sense of all that?
I didn’t, I went home but I couldn’t stop thinking about it for days. It was almost impossible to sleep.
I picked up a bible to look for anything I could find on the prophets and their messages days went by weeks and I could hardly think of anything but that encounter.
And then I returned to the bench by the Hudson.
Yes, but not exactly to the bench but near it to where I could see it from a distance. Why?
Because I wasn’t sure I wanted to see him again, but you did want to see him again again.
I was torn. I knew that if I didn’t see him again, I’d never know the answer.
At the same time, I was afraid of what that might mean. And yet still I was drawn back.
I had to return and, and he wasn’t there.
I returned a second time and again, he wasn’t there and then a third time and the third time he was there just as he was the first time sitting on the same bench on the same spot in the same long dark coat and, and then it began.