Passenger of Ages

By Sandra Meris

It was around 94 AD. Claudius is lead to a job of catching the left-over dead from Romes arena. But things changed for him when he was sent to be in charge of loading and unloading prisoners from a boat to an isolated island. John was a special guest, who ended up being dumped as dead in the dark of a secret cave.

Left to die, Johns spirit flew to places that went beyond his ability of being confined in time and space. On this trip, he witnessed much more than his eyes could bear. Throughout his journey, there is an intriguing figure dressed in red that is never totally absent from his sight, making his voyage much heavier. Nevertheless, from Lucifers rebellion in heaven to the Second Coming of Jesus, Passenger of Ages shifts the destination of many.

Take a ride in the Passenger of Ages convoy to places where evil and good coexist. Sink your soul in the marvelous future set up for all who believe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Nov 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9781512740516

Sandra Meris

Sandra Meris is the author of many poems, devotionals, and short stories for children. In 2012, she had one of her poems, A Love that Never Dies, published on Stars in Our Hearts: Eternally by World Poetry Movement. After that, she self-published a compilation of her most beautiful poems in a single book, Wondering. Her collection of writings inspired her to write her first novel, Passenger of Ages. Sandra Meris lives in Massachusetts with her husband. She has two grownup children.

Book preview

PASSENGER

of

AGES

SANDRA MERIS

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Copyright © 2016 Sandra Meris.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission. NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION® and NIV® are registered trademarks of Biblica, Inc. Use of either trademark for the offering of goods or services requires the prior written consent of Biblica US, Inc.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

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Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-5127-4050-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5127-4052-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5127-4051-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016906799

WestBow Press rev. date: 11/16/2016

Contents

Chapter 1 Surviving the Ordeal

Chapter 2 Splendor of Heaven

Chapter 3 The Lord’s Beauty

Chapter 4 Birth of Evil

Chapter 5 Confrontation

Chapter 6 Great Creation

Chapter 7 Deception

Chapter 8 Suffering Sprouts

Chapter 9 The Great Project

Chapter 10 Loading the Boat

Chapter 11 Let the Rain Fall

Chapter 12 Babel

Chapter 13 The Doom of Two Cities

Chapter 14 Reunion

Chapter 15 Seed of Faithfulness

Chapter 16 Unnecessary Plot

Chapter 17 Reaping What Was Sown

Chapter 18 Fate of a Man

Chapter 19 A Dream Is Revealed

Chapter 20 Enslavement

Chapter 21 Process of Freedom

Chapter 22 The Complainers

Chapter 23 Failures of Judges and Kings

Chapter 24 Division and Captivity

Chapter 25 Captivity and Return

Chapter 26 Breaking God’s Silence

Chapter 27 Forever Changed

Chapter 28 Stones of Weakness

Chapter 29 Beggar of the Darkness

Chapter 30 Washed by Mercy

Chapter 31 More Than Healing

Chapter 32 From the Grave to life

Chapter 33 Case of Mercy

Chapter 34 Seized

Chapter 35 Impaired Justice

Chapter 36 Accomplished Death

Chapter 37 The Sting of Death Lost Its Victory

Chapter 38 Life Proceed

Chapter 39 Ephesus

Chapter 40 Smyrna

Chapter 41 Pergamum

Chapter 42 Thyatira

Chapter 43 Sardis

Chapter 44 Philadelphia

Chapter 45 Laodicea

Chapter 46 Unexpected Future

Chapter 47 The Beast

Chapter 48 Allies

Chapter 49 Conspiracy

Chapter 50 Shalom

Chapter 51 Starburst and Oliver

Chapter 52 Striking Forces

Chapter 53 Cathedral of Praises

Chapter 54 Prediction

Chapter 55 Interview

Chapter 56 Rebellion in Heaven

Chapter 57 The Prophets Die

Chapter 58 Abomination and Desolation

Chapter 59 Prophets’ Resurgence

Chapter 60 Stigmatic Souls

Chapter 61 Spared From the Tears of Demolition

Chapter 62 The Blows of Death

Chapter 63 Uncaged Angels

Chapter 64 Out of Waters to Kill

Chapter 65 Rapture of the Passenger

Chapter 66 The Evil Reached Its Limits

Chapter 67 Friends Bonding

Chapter 68 High Price for Bread

Chapter 69 Sunken Into Fear

Chapter 70 Hopeless Return

Chapter 71 Letter of Hope

Chapter 72 Painful View

Chapter 73 Bloody Waters

Chapter 74 Red Heat and Dark Air

Chapter 75 Enemies From the Euphrates

Chapter 76 Spectacle of Destruction

Chapter 77 Day of Jubilee

Chapter 78 Noble Beginning

Passenger of Ages has a message of love, grace, redemption, and justice of God to mankind that is directly extracted from the Holy Scripture. Although the plots in this book are outlined according to historical events of the Bible, the development has fictional branches. The author has pointed them out throughout these pages for the reader to search the Word of God in its pure form and ask the Holy Spirit for guidance on the understanding of it.

Be prepared with the Word of God to overcome indecisiveness. Paganism, secularism, humanism, and any other heresy are at your door constantly and appear to gain ground in the world. Accordingly to the Word of God—and Passenger of Ages emphasizes it—these things will not prevail.

To the Creator of heaven and earth,

my Lord and Savior,

Jesus Christ

Anyone who lives on milk,

Being still an infant, is not acquainted

With the teaching about righteousness.

But solid food is for the mature,

Who by constant use have trained themselves

To distinguish good from evil.

—Hebrews 5:13–14

Preface

M Y FAITH IN JESUS CHRIST started when I was eight years old. My mother was a Christian; my father was not. Back in those days, my mother wanted us to go to church, although she did not always go. One Sunday morning, a pastor came to our house and took my sister and I to the Sunday school for the first time. The teacher was very lovely and asked for the children of the Sunday school to give us a warm welcome with a song that said, Welcome to Jesus’s family! I just loved that day. At the end of that class, the Sunday school teacher gave us two pocket-sized books of the New Testament. She wrote a dedication in them that said: Remember your Creator in the days of youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near of which you will say, I have no pleasure in them (Ecclesiastes 12:1).

I started reading the New Testament at night before going to bed. The New Testament is a book that combines many other books. My New Testament had a very old-fashioned translation—a formal language, difficult for me to understand, but the more I read it, the more I like it. Then, finally, it became clear to me that the book was about a man called Jesus, who was a good man who died for our sins.

The most interesting book of the Bible for me was the book of Revelation. I read it repeatedly, even though I could not understand it at all. Besides the formal language, it was also full of symbolism—there was a dragon and a woman dressed in scarlet who was drunk. There were horses, invasion of creatures with men’s faces, and so many other things that it looked like a science fiction book. After reading the book of Revelation many times, my conclusion was that it was about a history of a war between good and evil, and God was giving chances to humankind to be at his side. In the end, God won the war with great victory.

Time passed, and I never stopped going to church. In my teenage years, however, I let myself follow the crowd. I had stopped reading my little Bible, and gradually I started doing what people without direction usually do—embracing philosophy that sounded beautiful or affiliating with empty religious insights—viewpoints about man’s destination with speculation that lacks fundamentals. Unfortunately, it was at that age that I made the most important decisions in life without consulting God. I know he never stopped of loving me; nevertheless, the consequences of my choices held me back from enjoying life in the fullness of what God had already prepared for me. By then, my life was plagued by much unhappiness, and the emptiness made me feel hungry for God’s Word like never before. I started reading my Bible not with curiosity only, but with passion for God’s Words. While going to different seminaries and Bible courses, my attention—again—was caught by the book of Revelation, and I was determined to understand it. Going to biblical seminars had helped me immensely in acquiring the knowledge of the Bible, which was important; but, I felt that there was something much vital than that—I needed the revelation from God’s Holy Spirit if I really wanted to understand his Word. Holiness and a personal relationship with him would be necessary to reach that level of communication with God.

From this point on, I understood there were steps I should take to get to know God’s Word through his unique language. It was important to surrender my life entirely to him. I spent much time praying and reading the Scriptures.

Slowly, I was able to understand God’s plan for mankind. The battle of life could never be won with our own enforces. Redemption was bought with a high price for us; however, it is in our hands to receive or reject what he did for us.

Passenger of Ages is for me like a magnificent picture drawn by God’s hands. Ages come and go with men showing rebellious behavior against their Creator. Yet it is amazing the way God intervenes to rescue us over and over again. Incredibly, you will identify a part of yourself in every page of Passenger of Ages. History always repeats itself, giving us a great number of chances to reflect. As in our own lives, the end of this novel can be tragic or it can be great, depending on your deliberate choice.

My prayer is that after reading Passenger of Ages, you will read your Bible with a new excitement and anticipation of a real encounter with the Lord.

Acknowledgments

O VER THE YEARS, I HAVE researched and read all kinds of information and studies to have a better knowledge of God’s Word. By the time I started writing Passenger of Ages , I realized my knowledge wasn’t enough. All the information I had acquired in my many years of searching would be empty words on pages, trying to make sense of my own human concept of godly things. I needed revelation of his Spirit to bring life to the written concepts. Therefore, my first thank-you is to God, who not only inspired me but also made it possible for me to write this story.

My gratitude to my husband, my children, friends, and to the personnel of WestBow Press who with a special touch gave me credibility and helped Passenger of Ages to reach its best final form.

Also, in memory of Shirley A. Tremblay (4/17/1957 – 6/12/2016) who walked with me throughout the path of Passenger of Ages with her prayers and tears that supported and encouraged me to finish this novel; nevertheless, before the release of it, Shirley stepped into a much glorious dimension, under God’s wings where, in peace, she rests.

Introduction

I N THE BEGINNING, HE WAS bright and beautiful. He was an angel of high position, but Lucifer became the man dressed in red, as if he was a warrior dressed in a monk’s robe, hunting down his prey with an unquestionable skill that allowed him to invade the men’s heart. Surely, this figure in red was there when John was brought to Claudius’s boat; although Claudius did not intend to partake in the humans’ fate that was given into his hands. Maybe John deserved a second chance—a change of dying in a more plausible way , Claudius thought.

Claudius did not know John was a special guest with a free passage to a portal of the dreams that would change the hearts of many souls. He had been bothered by John’s presence in his boat, but only later—two years later—he would understand why his heart had been so compassionate not only with the persona of John, but also with so many lifeless bodies—the leftovers of the lions’ food scattered around the arena. Claudius’s life shifted direction when he took his new job position as if it was a reward from the gods. He felt a sense of relief that he was able to bring the wounded to die in peace in prison, because up to then, so many had been burned alive. The task of going back and forth to the island of Patmos in a boat full of criminals made him reflect on life. It was in that boat, however, surrounded by questionable characters that his life was forever changed.

John was on the floor of the boat. His body gave the impression of one who was dying, but he consciously reacted to the ordeal to which he was exposed. Most of all, he clearly reflected on God’s ways of bringing man to God.

John was glad God was not finished with him yet. While the boat swung from side to side, reflecting a disturbance of the sea, flashes of memories kept invading his mind. John had just survived the boiling oil as a form of torture, which brought him on this boat, along with many other criminals. Despite the dark memories of that moment, his own survival and the oil covering his body was a great display of how glorious his God was. He was still alive.

Nevertheless, as the trip in the boat continued, John felt a heavy weight upon his shoulders. He did not know that a book of many pages was being added to his account. The book would unfold to reveal the patience of God throughout history in an ultimate attempt to save humankind. John knew the history of man well through the Scriptures—the fall, the sin, the law, the prophets, and finally the Son of God who came to fulfill the Law given, which could not be fulfilled by man.

The Jews misunderstood Jesus Christ’s presence on earth. They knew the Law was perfect in all its sublimation, and in fact, it was. However, they failed to realize how imperfect their capacity to fulfill it was. God is not only love and mercy, but he is also a God of justice. Love cannot be complete without justice, nor salvation without forgiveness, nor forgiveness without repentance. Now it would be revealed to John what was coming over the world.

God gave the dream to John because human history would not make sense with only a beginning and middle. The history has an ending that needs to be revealed. It was for that reason that John was kept on earth a little while longer.

Prologue

Autumn, 94 AD.

C LAUDIUS WAS ON DUTY ON the boat. He was standing quietly on the deck with his shirt rolled up to catch the breeze, as he often did when the ship was on course. He never contemplated the sunset in other places; for him, it looked like the sun had a different meaning each time he did his trip to that island—Patmos. On many occasions, it seemed that the sun refused to go down, just making the journey a little longer.

That afternoon was one of those days. When the night fell, he would look to the prisoners. For some reason they all looked like stars, which were in the wrong place out of the sky. Quite often, he would meditate on matters of life, people, and Christians—the boat was full of them. Christians say their God created us; Claudius thought, if it is so, then he created me too. They also have the tradition of doing good deeds, which is pointless, meaningless, and inappropriate. If I was a Christian, for sure I would break that tradition for my own betterment! He kept mulling things over until he got tired. He concluded that the best thing to do was to go to sleep, where all those things, for a moment, would be resolved.

Claudius had been the captain of a boat responsible for bringing the outsiders of the Roman Empire to Patmos for quite some time now. Before that, he had worked as servant, carrying out menial tasks; he never was able to have a decent job. Now, with kids to sustain and living on the margins of the great empire of Roma, he could not question the nature of any job that was offered to him. One day, finally, an opportunity came to him through his friend Marcus, who had an affiliation with the guards who worked in the arenas of Ephesus.

Arena cadaver-picker—that would be his title. The benefits of the job were wondrous—good pay, good food, good clothes, and others benefits. As soon as the position was opened, he packed his things and went straight to the man who was believed to be his god—a man with endless power at his fingertips; whatever he said happened, and he was the only man who could fulfill any destiny. Marcus had warned him, You have to be tough. You will need to harden yourself against those tender feelings if you are to succeed. They will judge whether you are capable of doing the job based on your coldness toward death.

Going to the arena to watch the violence done to others, was part of Claudius’s new job training. He had to get used to the brutality done to innocent people. The first time he witnessed a victim in the heart of the arena, it was a girl. She was probably around sixteen years old and had a kind of radiant light surrounding her. He wondered if she was indeed beautiful or if was his eyes of compassion that made her shine. His heart pounded heavily in his chest with each step she took. She walked as if in a nuptial march—calm and joyful. But she did something extraordinarily different. When the hungry lions were loose, the audience went quiet and among the lions’ vicious roars, Claudius heard something unexpected—the girl was singing. Then, as it had happened in many other cases, the lions attacked her, fighting over the girl’s body. The crowd went crazy with excitement.

Claudius’s heart exploded inside his chest. He felt like running from the place, but he could not because he needed the job. As his friend had instructed him, he must learn to be cruel and cheer in the same way the crowd did.

The crowd went wild when more victims were dumped into the arena. Nevertheless, Claudius could not disguise himself as one of audience; he gritted his teeth, trying to harden himself against the sounds of terrified cries. The sight of so much suffering and death assaulted and nauseated him, while the surrounding people hysterically and harshly laughed.

After the killings, when the spectators dispersed, returning to their houses, and while the beasts gorged themselves in the dark interior of their cages, Claudius stepped into the arena to pick up the lifeless bodies and place them in a pile, light the fire, and let the fire burn whatever remained of the bodies. His coworkers did the job as easily as if gathering wood for the winter. They did not care a bit about checking if there was still life in the lacerated bodies laying on the bloody ground. Claudius, however, walked among the death with his eyes wide open, scanning, gazing across the sand, searching for survivors—any survivor—holding hope he could find at least one.

If they are alive, they deserve to live. The gods have spared them for a good reason, he used to say to excuse himself, We do not want the gods to punish Roma at our account! He made a point for saying that, and they thought it was very thoughtful of him to think that way. As matter of fact, he even got a promotion from the emperor Domitian. Now, he would be in charge of a boat that took the criminals and outsiders to the island of Patmos—and thanks to his contribution, it would include the survivors of the lions’ attack.

From cadaver-picker to captain of a ship was quite a jump. After having been haunted by the horrific sounds of terror and pain for so many nights, Claudius felt honored by the gods for having this great opportunity of being in charge of the ship. He used to stand on board when the soldiers came once a week to dump the unfortunates—the ones belonging to a religion that encouraged the overthrow of Rome. By the time the unfortunates got to the boat, they looked more like dead souls in chains than alive prisoners. There were among the detainees, the ones for whom the chains were totally unnecessary. The damage on their bodies caused by bites, fire, beatings, or other ways of torture made obvious that the extra restraint was a waste of effort.

It was a regular workday, and the soldiers had already done their duty; the ship was loaded. The sun was quickly climbing in the sky and the preparations of embarking had been made when Claudius saw one more condemned being carried toward the ship. I told these men that no more cargo would be received, he thought angrily. If the crew is to be on the island by tomorrow morning, I should be on my way already! The man they were bringing was carried on a stretcher, wrapped in a dirty rag that was soaked in what looked like grease. The man was old, and the combination of his untamed beard, slick and dripping with oil, his pouched face, and protruding lips gave him a disgusting appearance. He was unconscious but alive.

Claudius crossed his arms on his muscular chest and stood with legs apart, in a military posture as the soldiers carried the last almost lifeless body aboard the ship. Put him there. Claudius pointed to a high place where would be easier to throw the body into the sea. He doubted the old man would survive the trip.

Later, sitting on the deck, Claudius looked at the six inches of gunwale that separated him from the ocean; then his eyes shifted toward the horizon that narrowed and widened and dipped and rose. At all times its edge was jagged with waves that seemed to thrust up in points like rocks. He invariably gazed eastward over the broken sea, while his heart ascertained substantial matters of life. His mind carried the image of the old man, greased and wrapped like an old mummy. Our god did not die for us; much less, we would die for them, he thought, but look at these souls! It is a real love story of a God and his creation—this boat is packed with them! In Claudius’s heart, there was a personal closeness toward his crew that was strictly prohibited. In the depths of his heart, he knew his soul expected him to be free—at least as free as those like the semiconscious greasy old man who confront tyranny with such dignity.

Chapter 1

Surviving the Ordeal

W HEN THEY GOT TO THE Island, the old man who was covered in grease was dumped in a cave not too far from where the boat was anchored. He awoke and felt as if he was rising from death, gently, from the depths of a slippery oil pool. His body cried in pain all over and announced something was not right. Wherever he was, it smelled damp and was cold. His eyes moved heavy and defiantly behind lids that refused to open. Using all his strength, he finally managed to open one eye. He looked around and deduced the place was a cave. It’s dead in here. Or is this place a tomb? he thought.

Exhausted, he gave up guessing, but his ear captured a sound from the outside world, a sound that might give him a clue. The waves of the sea are unmistakable. If I don’t know them by the sound, surely I know them by scent. But how did I end up in a cave by the sea? The sound of the waves was steady, and it sank him back down into a deep state of unconsciousness.

The old man was not dead, and when he awoke for the second time, his mind was full of vivid recollection. Sixty-three years had passed since Christ’s death. And now he’d been thrown on this deserted island to pay for his faithfulness to Jesus. His godly family had been diminished by death, and the only thing left was a window in his memory. Although it seemed strange to be laying on the ground of the cold cave, he felt a substantial wave of safety distinctly embrace him. He managed to turn his body toward the cave wall, and from the narrow opening, he could see the outside. The place was in ruins, and if there was any human activity, it must have been long ago. The sun was shining. It pierced his eyelids as he made a feeble attempt to block the burning beams of light with his shaking hand. The sun never changes, except that here it is cold, he thought.

Stiffened with the oil that still covered his body, the old man pulled himself closer to the crack of the cave’s wall, allowing him to see the sand, which, from where he was, seemed rough, like glass paper that stung. Walking on it probably would be like walking on coals.

Then he felt a soft breeze like a gift from above. He breathed it deeply and, the same way a dry sponge absorbs water, his lungs absorbed it.

Although it was refreshing to see the shore and feel its breeze, the island gave the old man an uneasy feeling he could not shake. He felt as if he was in a distant world or perhaps a prison, where the rule of the silence was never broken—a place where even the birds seemed to be mute. It was a place where the sand stood alone; to see the ocean, one must imagine it. But he didn’t have any problem with that. In his imagination, the sea was drawing onto the sand, and farther away, like a monster, it dashed against the rocks. The place looked to him as if it was in the process of aging and it had lost the splendor of its beauty, which he could sympathize with. The only difference between the place and him was that it was standing strong and being useful—even if its usefulness was not particularly glamorous. The island was being used as a dumpsite for the lost and condemned.

He wished he could explore the place, but his joints would not let him go too far. His bones were crying for a blanket and his stomach for food. He thought then about his age. He forgot how old he was, but he knew he was old now, and, particularly in that place, he felt even more as if he was from the lost and unneeded generation. His physical body screaming with pain, but the real pain he felt was of being unneeded. Being unneeded was uncomfortable in any stage of life of any person.

He thought about the possibility of being in a prison, and if indeed the place was a prison, then he was not one of those who would try to escape.

Shrugging off the many questions that his mind bombarded him with, the old man fell asleep.

His sleep followed a pattern of sleeping and waking up several times. Although nothing changed, whenever he awakened the walls of the cave seemed to get bigger to accommodate his sufferings. Moreover, though alive still, he anxiously waited to be resurrected, as was promised to him. He kept his faith alive, holding tightly to what he saw and testified of Jesus.

The resurrection of Jesus was the heart of the entire story; it protected him from the sentence of being boiled in oil. It preserved him to tell the story.

Patmos was the island. John was the old man’s name.

Chapter 2

Splendor of Heaven

J OHN LOST TRACK OF TIME. Sleeping seemed to be the only activity that was possible for him, due to the stress connected with being brought to that place. Laying on the cold ground with his body complaining of soreness, he tried to be awake enough to reason things out. Sleepiness was a defense mechanism that he loved and hated at the same time. As his mind went around searching the past, he recalled that the last time he felt that way was in the garden of Gethsemane when he and his friends were with Jesus for the last time before his death. Jesus came three times to them, asking them to be with him in vigilance and prayer. They just could not. Their incapacity to stay awake overcame them. Their deep sleep only was disturbed by the noise of the soldier that came with the mission of carry out their master’s tragic fate. On that occasion, they were unaware of the gravity of the facts, and they did what only cowards do. They fled. ¹

The circumstances were different. John was in a cave. He was alone. Nevertheless, like in the garden, he found himself fighting with his sleepiness; his eyes refused to be alert and, again, it closed—this time, heavily.

John started to dream. In his dream, he traveled like a solitary passenger going to an unknown place. The sky was as clear as crystal, and its blue color was breached as it fell into the ocean and was stretched by the horizon in various shades of undulating green. The sun was there and surely hadn’t been hiding itself between the mountain valleys, but it might be too big and close to be swallowed by his eyes. John thought of it as a wonderful reddish face suspended in midair, like a big egg yolk with a confident smile. He felt its warmth, like narrow beams of golden-yellow light as glorious as a golden waterfall, shining far and wide.

While he was amusement by this image, it was as if a window opened in front of him. He felt like he was in the middle of an orb that kept spinning. Possibly, the universe could have pulled itself aside to accommodate a huge opening and put him in the darkness, walking on a path that reflected a golden color that shone from a celestial city. His eyes were intoxicated by the natural-shaped figures that spoke silently of the beauty of the mountains and long, blue, spiky-edged shadows creeping out across the snowfields.

Forcing his eyes toward the distance, John contemplated what seemed to be a human being on a trail of diamonds that ended in a stream of sparkling crystal water that subdued the shiny spectrum of a thousand precious stones beneath the surface. John scanned the landscape. It was poetry in green, touched by his eyes. Like an eternal garden, flowers of multiple forms, colors, and fragrances adorned the scenery, and their