On the fifteenth day of March, in the year of our Lord two thousand and four, the veil was parted and the messenger of God appeared. His vestments were soaked in blood, and he wore a breast plate graven with images of death and destruction. His helm closed off his face, except for the coverlet of the left eye, from which, when he raised it, God's wrath descended. His voice was like a hurricane, and the ground trembled when he spoke:

Raise yourself
Master your fear
Stand up

For the current age is ending
And you are called
To declare its doom

I said,

Who am I?

And the angel replied:

One of many sons of Adam
But you
Are chosen

Now stand up!
Be a man!
Approach!

I did as the angel said. He moved like lightning. His sword flashed, and I was split open from my chin to my navel. Seraphs all around me and beneath me held me up. I felt no pain, only emptiness and darkness closing in. The angel took a clear, bright stone with a blinding light shining through. He placed it inside me, and touched me, sealing the wound and leaving only a thin scar down the middle. The stone burned so brightly, it turned my flesh translucent.

The angel spoke:

This stone
Is the gift of the Lord
A guide to you

Do not rely
On senses or feelings
For they can deceive

The stone
Will burn away fear and boredom
And leave only righteous anger

I realized that my life until then had been falsehood and waste. Everything I had ever craved -- career, security, home and comforts, respect of neighbors, warmth of family -- was all ephemeral, all an illusion. I remembered all the money I had spent on things. All the time I had spent seeking relaxation and pleasure. It was as if I thought I would live forever! All the facts I had learned in school, all the formulas I had memorized, all the books I had read full of things that in the light of God burning through every fiber of me I could see had not the least shred of meaning. All wasted! Tears seared my face like acid. How could I survive?

The angel spoke to me again:

There is a book
Written in Heaven
Containing all the ages of men

Each seal of the book given
When the time is right
According to each age's waxing and waning

Toward a final glory
That men do not understand
Of whose fullness they are not worthy

Though unworthy
You are the carrier
Of this age's seal for the waning time

The angel lifted the coverlet of his helm and let his piercing gaze fall on me. I knew that I was unjust and he was just, and I thought he might see that my heart was full of sin and confusion, and that he would destroy me. But he said,

There are questions
You hold trembling
In your heart

Fear only not asking
For these are given you
For the glory of the Most High

So I tried to still my heart, and slowly I realized that in the selfishness and meaninglessness of my life I was not alone, and that my fate and my whole generation were interwoven. And then the first question came to me:

What are the ages of men?

The angel replied,

There are four ages,
The first is called Babylon the Great
The second belongs to the Pupil of Aristotle
The third is Eternal Rome
And last of all America the Beautiful

I stilled my heart again and, grasping vainly at hope, again a question came:

And what are their seals?

The angel replied,

Seven seals have been revealed
The Five Books of Moses
Daniel's Prophesy
The Oracle of Delphi
Plato's Wisdom
The Texts of the Sibyl
John's Revelation
The Book of Mormon

And unto you is given the eighth
Written in Heaven
On Earth yet to be

With each answer, my eyes grew more clouded with savage visions of iron and smoke, and rivers of blood. I knew what the last question was, fraught with greater dread than all the others, and I could not still my heart and through scalding tears and heartsickness I could not speak the words. But at that moment I realized that out of all my generation I had been chosen, and I declared to the angel:

Even if there is nothing more for me than to be the bearer of the last seal, even if afterwards, having served my purpose, I am cast aside to be burned, it is enough. For it is better to have been touched by the Eternal and been consumed, than to live forever, void of meaning.

The angel replied:

Then you
Have made yourself
Ready

And I cried,

Then what is the seal you have for me?

And the angel replied:

Prepare to receive
The ripeness of the pride
Of America the Beautiful