by C. M. Palov
‘If Gaspar’s account is to be believed, it also wasn’t a divine event either,’ Edie said pointedly, addressing the biblical elephant in the room. ‘Meaning that Jesus wasn’t conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of a virgin.’
‘Most Christians are unaware of the fact that in the first and second centuries, a divine savior god born of a virgin was a popular pagan belief, Dionysus and Sol Invictus two of the more famous examples.’ Pouring the fresh-brewed coffee into two mugs, Caedmon carried them to the table and retook his seat. ‘Eager for converts, Paul’s protégé, a Gentile physician named Luke, described the immaculate conception at some length in his gospel, inventing a divine event that would compete with the prevailing pagan traditions. The Jews, however, never had an expectation that the prophesied Messiah would be a divine being.’
‘Okay, so Luke was fishing for Gentile converts,’ Edie conceded as she poured a dollop of milk into her coffee. ‘But how do you explain the fact that in the Old Testament, the prophet Isaiah stipulated that the Messiah would be born of a virgin? “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel,”’ she recited, leveling him with a challenging stare.
‘And I’ll have you know that Isaiah prophesied no such thing. Rather he prophesied that an almah would give birth. Almah is Hebrew for “girl”’ or “young woman”.’ Pausing, Caedmon took a sip of his coffee before continuing. The brew too bitter, he reached for the milk carton. ‘When the Church Fathers decided to create a divine Messiah, they intentionally mistranslated the original Hebrew text, thus corrupting Isaiah’s prophecy. While the Church wants us to believe that the lyrics of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” ring true, Gaspar would have us singing about a not-so-immaculate conception.’
‘It’s easy for you to make a mockery of this, isn’t it?’ Edie retorted, clearly taking exception to his last comment. ‘You don’t attend church service. Or even subscribe to a particular religion.’
Surprised by her fervor, Caedmon carefully weighed his reply. ‘Here’s another possibility to consider: Miriam’s conception was absolutely “immaculate” in that the planning and foresight were impeccable. According to Gaspar, the Nazorean elders did everything possible to ensure that two pure and righteous individuals would bring a special child of destiny into the world.’ Opening the cookie tin, he passed it to Edie.
‘I’m almost afraid to ask what’s contained in the second translation.’
‘The second plate of the Evangelium Gaspar pertains to the “Lost Years”.’ Caedmon turned the computer in his direction and pulled up the next email attachment. ‘Those eighteen years from the time that the twelve-year-old Jesus had discourse with the high priests in the Temple to when he began his ministry at the age of thirty.’
Edie’s eyes popped wide open, her surprise plainly evident. ‘Do you mean that the Evangelium Gaspar actually contains information about those missing years in Jesus’ life?’
Caedmon spun the laptop back in her direction. ‘Brace yourself.’
The Education of Yeshua bar Yosef
The First Lesson
When Yeshua bar Yosef was twelve years of age he was entrusted to me so that I could oversee his continued education. Before this time, he had lived at Mount Carmel where the Brothers taught Yeshua from their library of sacred texts and had trained him in the healing arts.
We set out on the great trade route with a group of silk merchants who were making the return trip to their homeland. One night, Yeshua asked what he would learn once we arrived in the East. I explained that he would learn how to prepare and purify his mind, his body and his spirit to receive the Father’s greatest gift, that of enlightenment. Only in an awakened state could a man communicate with the Eternal One.
I then taught Yeshua the first of many lessons: how the great prophet Zoroaster preached that the Heavenly Law of the Father is averse to the sacrifice of animals and that anyone who commits such wickedness shall be severely judged and punished. For this is a cruel act that causes the perversion of the mind and the loss of morality. The man who lives this Truth is a blessed child of the Father.
Yeshua is Mistaken for an Avatar
In Yeshua’s nineteenth year, we journeyed to the country of the Āryas and the land of many deities that is called Jagannath. His arrival was met with much acclaim for he had grown in wisdom and stature. The Brahmin priests taught Yeshua the celibate virtues and the yogic practices that would enable him to change the lower forms of energy into a creative fire. In this way Yeshua moved closer to the Eternal One.
The priests in the temples marveled at Yeshua’s righteousness and asked if he was an avatar, what they know to be an incarnation of the Supreme Being. And Yeshua said, ‘I am the Son of Man.’
Yeshua lived in peace with all men and this caused a great disturbance amongst the Brahmin priests who believed that the Holy Scriptures could not be taught to those men of low caste. And when they forbade Yeshua from preaching to these lowly men, Yeshua refused to heed their command for he knew that the Father loved all of His Children.
The priests in the temple raged against Yeshua and they planned his murder. But Yeshua was warned of this evil plot and we fled in the middle of the night. We then sought refuge with the monks who lived in the eastern mountains.
Yeshua Becomes Enlightened
While studying with the holy men who adored the sublime Buddha, Yeshua spent many years reading the Sacred Rolls that contained the Wisdom of the Sutras. And he was drawn to that which spoke of the good we must do unto others as this is the sure path that leads to communion with the Eternal One. This was when he endeavored to live his life free of all violence and to forgive those who had wronged him in the past.
The llama at the monastery taught Yeshua how to turn his gaze inward so that he could see that there were other worlds to behold. It was then that Yeshua began to comprehend that which had eluded him.
One day, Yeshua walked into the mountain forest for he sought communion with the Father. He had come to realize that the Father’s Kingdom was not to be found in the pages of a sacred text or in a beautiful temple. Nor did the Eternal One dwell in the Heavens above. He now knew that the Eternal One dwelled within each man.
Yeshua remained in deep meditation for many days and many nights; and he was tempted by the Evil One who appeared in the guise of lust. But Yeshua spurned this temptation. Then the Evil One tried to lure him with the fear of death, but Yeshua had no fear for he was finally one with the Father and safe in his Father’s House. He now knew the inner peace that comes with enlightenment for Yeshua had become an awakened being.
And so his education was completed and, in his twenty-ninth year, Yeshua and I began the long westward journey back to the land of his birth.
56
Rione di Borgo, Rome, Italy
‘Heretical horseshit!’
Disgusted, Cardinal Franco Fiorio glared at the translations that he’d been working on for the better part of the night. Essene elders selecting a ‘vessel’ was the very sort of sensationalism that would cause Catholics to doubt their faith. To question the validity of the canonical gospels. Jesus, as the pre-existent Son of God, had been conceived through a divine fertilization of his mother Mary’s virgin womb! That doctrine was beyond reproach. Beyond questioning even. At the First Council of Nicaea in 325 AD, the Church Fathers definitively determined that Jesus had been ‘Born of the Father before all ages.’ Et ex Patre natum ante ómnia sæcula.
Deeply offended and angered by what he’d just read, Franco reached for the shot glass of grappa that his housekeeper Beatrice had placed beside his espresso cup. Since he was putting in a late night, she’d brought him a caffè corretto. Rather than pouring the pomace brandy into the espresso, to ‘correct’ the strong brew, he downed the glass of spirits in a single gulp.
An instant later, a fiery heat exploded in Franco’s lower belly, causing him to involuntarily grimace.
During his tenure as the head of the Congregation
for the Doctrine of the Faith, he had overseen the excommunication of a Jesuit priest who’d postulated that the virgin birth was merely symbolic. At the time, he’d bitterly lamented that the Church no longer burned heretics at the stake.
As for the content of the second plate . . . as much as it pained him to concede the point, it wasn’t out of the question. In the Gospel of John, there was a tantalizing hint that Jesus was something other than a carpenter’s son.
‘And there are also many other things which Jesus did, the which, if they should be written every one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written.’
Even if it could be proved that Jesus spent his youth in India, the Church would simply deny that Christ patterned his ministry on Hindu gurus or Buddhist llamas. The notion that God sat atop the mountain and that there were numerous paths to ascend the divine summit, all equally valid in the eyes of God, was not only a false precept, it was a blasphemous doctrine that smacked of Freemasonry. Orthodoxy had always been crystal clear on that point: Extra Ecclesiam nulla salus. ‘Outside the Church there is no salvation.’
Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims, Jews, they were all damned. The Protestants, too.
While the content of both plates was shocking, to his frustrated ire neither plate contained ‘The Great Heresy’. The secret that could destroy the Church in one fell swoop. As Franco knew full well, the Great Heresy was the only weapon powerful enough to coerce the College of Cardinals into electing him the next apostolic successor to Peter.
I must have the third plate in hand before the conclave convenes!
Roman Catholics the world over clamored for a pope, a savior, who would reassert the authority of the one, true Church and deliver them from the soulless decrees of Vatican II. That was the reason for the spiritual malaise that now permeated the Faith. If the College of Cardinals elected another liberal pontiff, the Roman Catholic Church would eventually lose all relevance.
‘And I’m not about to let that happen,’ Franco muttered as he got up from his desk.
Needing to take a break, bleary-eyed from the strain of having spent hours translating the two copper plates, he stepped over to the bookcase where there was a CD player wedged between the stacked volumes. He flipped through several plastic CD cases, selecting one of his favorites, The Very Best of Maria Callas.
Years ago, he’d taken his mother to hear Callas sing in Washington at the DAR Constitution Hall during the soprano’s 1973 farewell tour. Although he’d never been a big opera fan, Rosella loved it and Maria Callas had always been her favorite. Franco, who’d been given the tickets by a parishioner, didn’t know what to expect on that chilly November night when he and his mother were ushered to their orchestra seats. He certainly didn’t expect that when the lights dimmed and the statuesque dark-haired woman stepped on to the stage, he would become transfixed.
Some critics claim that Callas had a flawed voice. But, oh, what a flawed beauty she was. Utterly ravishing. La Divina. As though it had happened yesterday, Franco could still vividly recall sitting in that dark concert hall, in his plain, black clerical suit, mesmerized, unable to take his eyes off the Greek beauty in the flowing long gown.
‘Bravissimo! Bravissimo!’
His only regret that night was that he hadn’t had the foresight to purchase a bouquet of red roses to toss at her feet.
A sucker for romantic arias, Franco popped the CD into the player and adjusted the volume. Loud enough that he’d be able to hear it on the terrace, but not so loud that it would awaken Beatrice.
On hearing the opening strains of the hauntingly beautiful ‘O Mio Babbino Caro’, he stepped outside. In the near distance, the illuminated dome of St Peter’s stood in stark contrast to the night sky. A beacon. A constant reminder of the great work that lay before him.
When he became the next pontiff, Franco’s first priority would be to repeal Vatican II and clean house, disinfecting the Church of the liberal rot. Toss the hippy-freak Catholics and their hootenanny guitars to the curb. Along with any sexually deviant priests. If he had his way, the cassocked perverts would all be strung up by their testicles in the middle of St Peter’s Square.
Disgusting homosexuals, the lot of them!
Franco was living proof that a heterosexual man could overcome sexual lust and devote his life to the Church. And that Church would be pure, purged of liberals, feminists and sodomites. Bigger was not better, the Big Tent church an utter failure. The Holy See needed to cull the herd of all the undesirables. For too long now the Church had carried the sinners and heretics on its back. Coddling them as though they were naughty children. Unwilling to take a hard stance.
Over the course of human history, when did appeasement ever work?
In a word, never. A man cannot bargain with purveyors of vice and lust and deviant behavior. The end result of sin was eternal damnation. Full stop. The end.
Those sinners and liberals who were unwilling to repent would be excommunicated. Dragged from the pews kicking and screaming if need be. And to ensure that happened, the CDF would be given greatly expanded powers to fast-track the excommunication process, a necessary measure to protect the flock from heresies and to keep the laity firm in their beliefs.
One Church, one Faith. Heresy would not be tolerated.
Those who clamored for a ‘kinder, gentler’ Church had no true comprehension of the dynamic of faith. The Faith of the Church Fathers was not meant to be easy or convenient. No drive-through church-on-the-go for the men who forged a religion at Nicaea in 325.
Leaner and meaner. That’s how it was done in those days.
His second priority would be to get the Vatican’s financial affairs in order. Years ago, when Pope John XXIII was asked how many people worked at the Vatican, he famously quipped, ‘About half.’ When Franco became pontiff, the other half would get the axe. The Church could no longer afford to keep an army of ‘do nothings’ on the payroll. Also, by immediately eliminating all ecumenical outreach programs, the Vatican would save untold millions.
Becoming the Vicar of Christ wasn’t a vainglorious desire rooted in the ego. In truth, it would require that he make a tremendous sacrifice. But he was willing to make that sacrifice to save the Faith. The Church was his family. And had been ever since he received his Holy Orders. Like any man, Franco would do whatever was necessary to protect his family from the evils of the world.
Oh, there would be the inevitable hue and cry. The protests. The backlash. The hippy-freaks and their infernal marches. But those who braved the storm would soon bask in the Church’s love. More importantly, they would deepen their bond with the heavenly host through the sacred mysteries. Through the old rituals and rites, their souls would be burnished, their faith renewed.
Franco stared at the illuminated dome dramatically outlined against the horizon. Michelangelo’s masterpiece. To his surprise, he realized that there were tears streaming down his face.
Mi struggo e mi tormento! “I am anguished and I am tormented!”
His heavenly benefactors had brought him so very far. They would not – could not – abandon him now. They wanted him to refurbish the Church. To make it whole. And pure. As it had once been.
They wanted him to purge the Church of all heretics. All liberals. All of those who, through sin and vice and heresy, followed the Wicked One.
They wanted him to declare open warfare on the enemies of the Church. To battle those who refused to follow the dictates of the one true Church.
Commissioned by the Queen of Heaven Herself, Franco had pledged to do just that.
And I will take no prisoners.
57
Paris, France
0215h
‘I believe that it was Napoleon who said “history is the lie commonly agreed upon”,’ Caedmon remarked as he handed Edie a wine glass half-filled with amber Muscat.
‘That’s one way of putting it,’ she murmured, everything that she thought she knew about Jesus having been turned on
its head.
Glass in hand, she sat down in a leather club chair. A short while ago, they’d adjourned to Caedmon’s study to discuss the second plate of the Evangelium Gaspar.
‘How are we doing on time?’
Caedmon glanced at his watch. ‘We have two hours and thirty minutes before we make our escape.’
Already anxious, Edie peered at the closed window. ‘Is Calzada still –’
‘Yes, unfortunately, he’s still on the prowl,’ Caedmon interjected as he sat down in the club chair opposite hers. ‘Vigilant bastard.’
Hearing his muttered addendum, Edie tore her gaze away from the window. Like Caedmon, she was worried that Calzada’s vigilance would prove a dangerous monkey wrench.
Caedmon jutted his chin at her untouched glass. ‘Well, drink up. It’s Falstaff’s favorite sack, so do it justice.’
‘Smells a little bit like raisins.’ She took a measured sip, well aware that the ‘sack’ was Caedmon’s not-so-subtle attempt to calm her nerves before they flew the coop.
‘What’s so bloody astounding is that the Evangelium Gaspar explains the mystery of the eighteen “Lost Years” on which the canonical gospels are strangely silent,’ Caedmon remarked, returning to their original conversation. ‘Only one of the gospels, Luke’s, mentions in passing that during those years “Jesus increased in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man.” A mere fourteen words to describe more than half of a man’s life.’
‘Yeah, well, I gotta tell ya, it’s an astonishing explanation as to how he gained his wisdom and stature.’ Edie paused, the images swirling through her head in cinematic fashion. ‘We’re talking about Jesus meditating and practicing yoga. Like everybody else, I thought he was in the carpentry shop making tables and chairs with –’ She stopped in mid-sentence, suddenly noticing that Caedmon appeared remarkably blasé. ‘Aren’t you the least bit surprised to find out that Jesus spent eighteen years cozying up to Magi, Hindu gurus and Buddhist sages?’