Rosslyn Treasury

by P. L. Snow

  It is that love for which she is honoured in Christian churches all over the world; it is the reason why the Templars held her in particular veneration, and why she is remembered in Rosslyn.

  The carving usually known as the Crown of Thorns.

  Carving said by some to be the ‘true’ Crown of Thorns; shown to be more cap-like than wreath-shaped.

  * There is a legend that Pontius Pilate was born in Fortingall, Perthshire, Scotland, and that he was connected to the Clan Maclaren.

  11. The Soldiers of Golgotha

  It was only much later in the chapel’s history that the stained-glass windows were added to Rosslyn. The Rev John Thompson mentions the windows in the main body of the chapel in his guide, but he does not make note of the pair of windows that depict two military men whose lives foreshadow the ideals of the Knights Templar in their relationship to Christ and the world. It is certain that these windows were commissioned by someone with a deep connection to the ideas and ideals of William Sinclair, Third Earl of Orkney.

  One of the men represented in this pair of windows is Cassius Longinus. In this man we see something of the spirit that the Templar Knights tried to incorporate into their Order, and into themselves; a willingness to follow an intuition on behalf of a greater good, and the taking of a vow so sacred that it was dearer than life itself. We know hardly anything about Longinus, yet he had an important role to play in the central event of Christianity, the Crucifixion on the hill of Golgotha. We include the story of Abn Adar here as the story of Longinus is incomplete without the contribution of this other soldier to the scene.

  Abn Adar

  In our recounting of the story of Saint Veronica, we followed the agonizing path of Jesus to Golgotha, and His collapse at the crown of the hill. At this, the soldiers immediately executed their orders, and nailed Him to the cross that He had carried so painfully, aided by Simon of Cyrene, whose compassion for Jesus in this extremity of human cruelty was to change his life. Simon had wished to stay to see what further tortures this man was to be put through, but he was turned roughly away, having done what he was ordered.

  Two others were crucified at the same time; murderers whose ignominious death was supposed to make that of Jesus all the more dishonourable in the eyes of the Pharisees. One of these was crucified facing the north-east, away from the sun, while the other found his last moments illuminated by the midday sun, before the sky darkened, as the Gospels relate. This was he who refused to join in the mockery that his fellow criminal indulged in.

  The captain in charge of the soldiers sent to Golgotha was one Abn Adar, a man of Arab antecedents, in charge at this point of about fifty men. Part of his work was to see the execution carried out, according to orders; part of it was to police the crowd that gathered to watch. Many of these were shouting abuse or mockery, including the murderer to the left of Jesus. Neither he nor his brother in crime had been nailed to their crosses, but tied with ropes.

  Just as Jesus had fallen seven times on His way to Golgotha, He spoke seven times on the cross before giving up the ghost, and the first of His words was to forgive those who mocked and abused Him.

  The second word that Jesus spoke was to His mother, and to John, the disciple whom He loved. To His mother He said: ‘Woman, behold your son.’ To John, He said: ‘Behold your mother.’ Even amid His agony, He was achieving what He had come to fulfil. Blood relationships were no longer to be the limit of love and compassion, but all men and women were to endeavour to love one another.

  The sky was growing dark and the noise of the crowd was growing. The murderer to the left of Jesus, he who faced away from the sun, joined in the mocking, shrieking at Jesus to get down from the cross. Even as he did so, the other murderer felt an inner transformation beyond the pain of his suffering, and he recognized in Jesus the Son of the Living God. To him, Jesus spoke the third word: ‘Truly I say to you, you will be with me in Paradise this day.’

  As the day wore on, the skies grew dark; earthquakes shook the countryside around. Chaos and confusion spread through the crowd, and there was panic in the streets of Jerusalem. Angry mobs turned on Pontius Pilate, blaming him for the death of the man whose execution many of them had angrily demanded earlier. Pilate now wanted as little more to do with this episode as possible, and when Joseph of Arimathea, who had watched the crucifixion from a little distance from Golgotha, came to ask for the body, Pilate granted permission at once, partly in the hope of pleasing the gods whom he had angered by his judgment, and partly to spite the Pharisees.

  Abn Adar, his spirit stirred to its depths by what he had seen on the hill of execution, and the strange darkening of the sky and the earthquake, refused to allow any more shouting of abuse or mockery.

  The fourth word that Jesus spoke is recorded in the Gospel as: ‘My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?’

  The fifth word that Jesus spoke was: ‘I thirst.’ This caused ever greater pain to those close to Him who were present, as none of them had anything to give Him to slake this terrible thirst. Abn Adar pushed a cloth soaked in vinegar on to the end of a pole, and reached it up to Jesus, who accepted this bitter drink.

  Such was the effect on Abn Adar, hearing the last words that he proclaimed Jesus as the Living God, and refused to carry out any further orders.

  Jesus spoke twice more before He died. The sixth word was: ‘It is finished.’ Finally, He said: ‘Into thy hands, Father, I commend my spirit.’

  Gaius Cassius Longinus

  Meanwhile, even some Pharisees were now changing their minds. Shouts of mockery and abuse were being replaced by cries of terror and wailing. Others were leaving the city to see what was happening. Pilate now ordered hundreds of soldiers out to keep the peace. Now that Abn Adar had resigned his post, however, a new officer had to be found quickly to take his place.

  A young man called Gaius Cassius Longinus was promoted to the position vacated so hastily by Abn Adar, and he rode up to the hill. As he did so, men of the Temple Guard were sent to break the bones of the crucified men, to hasten their deaths. Those close to Jesus did all they could to prevent this, and indeed, a prophecy had stated: ‘A bone of him shall not be broken.’ The men with cudgels whose job it was to break the bones of the crucified, left Jesus’ body alone, and went about their task with the other two.

  The sight of the Temple Guards beating and cudgelling the heads and limbs of the two murderers filled Cassius with disgust. To him it appeared that Jesus was still living, though life had departed some little time since. Seized by a sudden intuition, the origin of which he could neither explain nor justify, he rode quickly up the hill, and, standing before the cross upon which the Saviour hung, he drove his spear between Jesus’ fourth and fifth ribs on the right side, and blood flowed from the corpse into a shallow depression at the foot of the cross. In this moment, Cassius Longinus, too, proclaimed Jesus the Son of the Living God. An old legend tells further that he had been suffering from failing eyesight, and that in this moment, his sight was restored.

  12. The Cockle Shell

  The early chronicler of Rosslyn, Father Hay, records that William Sinclair, third Earl of Orkney, feeling ‘his age creeping on him, made him consider how he had spent his time past, and how to spend that which was to come.’ According to Father Hay, Earl William built Rosslyn in order that prayers might be said for him for as long as the chapel lasted. The overwhelming sense is that Earl William was thinking of his spiritual self, rather than his temporal self. Of course, it should be clear by this point that anxiety for his immortal soul was not by any means the sole reason for Sinclair’s decision to build Rosslyn.

  A carving in the north-east of the chapel shows the face of one who is awakened to the reality of death, and the fear of what might follow. Above the awakened face is the Recording Angel, and on diagonal ribs close by, the Dance of Death is depicted: the figure of Death dancing with representatives from all walks of medieval life. The implication is clear. In the words of the Scottish medieval poet William
Dunbar in his Lament for the Makars: Timor mortis conturbat me, the fear of death disturbs me.

  Earl William could have Rosslyn built, but for poorer persons, it was possible to expiate one’s sins by going on a pilgrimage. The most common destination was Compostela, in Spain, once the Holy Land was closed to Christian pilgrims, and those who made the pilgrimage to the Shrine of Saint James at Compostela would bring a cockle shell back with them as a sign that they had been successful in their quest. These shells would be ground into the mortar that holds the chapel together to this day. Rosslyn, then, is held together by the piety of those early pilgrims.

  James the son of Zebedee

  The cockle shell is the symbol of Saint James, son of Zebedee and of Salome. He and his brother John were the first to be chosen by Christ as His disciples, along with Simon Peter and his brother Andrew. We see in the story of the Templars, how James was associated in their initiation ceremonies with the element of water, and indeed, when he was chosen to follow Christ, James earned his livelihood as a fisherman, going out on to the water to make his living. Indeed, Jesus found James at the task of casting his net on the waters on the Sea of Galilee, near the town of Bethsaida. The name of the town, or village, means ‘the House of Fish’. Nothing of it remains today, but the site where it stood has the Arabic name Tabgha, which in turn derives from the Greek name Heptapegon, the place of seven springs. Several springs do, in fact rise in the surrounding hills, and each brings with it down to the waters of Galilee different mineral properties, some of which attract fish and therefore make for rewarding fishing.

  We can imagine James, in his boat on the waters of Galilee, with the fertile land all around, being summoned among the first disciples. Some others who followed Jesus came from the same area. Philip was from Bethsaida, and Matthew, the Gospel writer and patron saint of Rosslyn, was stationed there when he was an exciseman, or customs official. The countryside differs strongly from the rocky, arid land of Judea.

  James was later chosen, along with John and Peter to witness one of the most mysterious events in the life of Christ, the Transfiguration on Mount Tabor. It was not given to all the disciples to witness this happening, when Jesus conversed with Moses and Elijah, surrounded by a cloud of spirit-light. This marked an important step in the development of Jesus’ mission, and could only be shared with those who were awakened enough inwardly to perceive it, even if they could not yet understand it.

  After that, the story of Jesus unfolded to its end — at least, in the earthly sphere. The Crucifixion took place, and what seemed the death of all hope. But then came the Resurrection and a new understanding of the meaning of Christ’s mission on Earth among humanity.

  After the Ascension, when Christ at last returned to the heavens, though with the promise of His return, James journeyed abroad to preach the Gospel of Christ, and he travelled as far as Spain. In the year 40 ad, he had a vision of the Mother of Jesus, calling him back to Judea. James set off on a long and arduous journey that took him through desert wastes, where thirst was one of the greatest hazards. However, the thought that Christ was always with him on his journey sustained him through the longest, most arid miles of his path, and thus he took the cockle shell as a symbol of water in the desert.

  When he finally arrived in Judea, he made his way to the tomb where Christ arose after three days, and he worshipped there, as he had promised the Mother of Jesus when he had first had his vision.

  The news that one of the disciples of Jesus of Nazareth had returned and was worshipping at the tomb and preaching the Gospel came to the ears of the King, Herod Antipas. Such was his rage at the Christians that he is said to have beheaded James himself, with his sword. Thus James was the first Christian martyr.

  His remains were taken by some of the remaining disciples by ship to Spain, and after being lost for centuries, were revealed in a field by stars shining overhead; hence the name Compostela: ‘The Field of Stars’. These remains became the basis of the shrine that bears his name, and the end of a pilgrimage trail that is still followed to this day. The cockle shell is the symbol of this pilgrimage.

  The Knight of the Cockle

  Two of the uncles of Rosslyn’s founder, Earl William, visited the shrine of Saint James of Compostela on their ill-fated journey to place the heart of Robert the Bruce in the soil of the Holy Land, in Jerusalem, and, according to Rosslyn expert and guide Fiona Scott, William Sinclair also made the pilgrimage, bringing back a cockle shell as the sign that he had done so. As we have seen, Compostela means ‘field of stars’, and the star-studded ceiling over the western end of the chapel is said to be, among the other things that it symbolizes, a reminder of the connection with the shrine of Saint James.

  However, the symbolism of the cockle shell goes some way further. The painters of the Renaissance used symbolism in ways that we are less able to read now without a specialist education. The great artist of the Renaissance, Botticelli, painted The Birth of Venus in the year following the death of Earl William Sinclair. The earl could never have seen it, but he would have understood the placing of the chaste and beautiful Venus on a cockle shell as the vessel on which she arrives, blown by friendly Zephyrus to dwell among human beings, all in a shower of roses, and greeted by nymphs who seek to maintain her modesty with a purple cloak. Venus in this painting represents all that is most revered in the feminine, understood in those times as the bringer and nurturer of life. She appears unveiled in the picture, and with the serenity of her countenance touched with just a hint of melancholy. We can see in this painting a glimpse of the future; Isis unveiled.

  William Sinclair, founder of Rosslyn, was also a Knight of the Cockle. This was an order of no more than thirteen men, and Sinclair was received among this exclusive brotherhood in 1431. We recall that the most highly initiated of the Templars also numbered no more than thirteen. The Order of the Cockle understood the most noble aims of the Templars, and strove to honour them, but without what one might call the spiritual impatience of the Templars to raise the material substance of the Earth into spirit, through their own inner transformation: their single-minded pursuit of the Grail.

  We know also that at the heart of the Templars’ spirituality was a deep reverence for the feminine. William Sinclair, Knight of the Cockle, honoured this in Rosslyn through the many carvings that show female figures: the Mother of Jesus, Saint Veronica, Saint Margaret, the Mother and Child turning away from the devil, as depicted in the north-west window. The small, red window, high in the Eastern wall, which is illuminated at each equinox with the rays of the rising sun, and casts a circle of warm, red light on the opposite wall, is a sign in the chapel that recalls the Shekinah: the feminine aspect of the Divine, who took pity on Adam and Eve when they were cast out of Paradise, and promised to follow them and their children through time. The cockle shell, then, is the vessel that supports the feminine, as represented in Botticelli’s painting, but also in the mortar that binds the structure of Rosslyn together, so that the chapel can honour and support the feminine principle, in a way that the Templars would have wished.

  Saint James was, for the Templars, the representative of the forces of life symbolically represented by water; the element that we have in common with plants and the animal kingdom. The cockle shell is hard and stone-like substance, but clearly and beautifully formed. It is no accident that in many churches cockle shells are used to scoop up the water from the font to sprinkle on the infant being baptized. Life, the water, and form, the cockle shell, come together in this ceremony, where the life of the child is finding the physical human form.

  The cockle shell is also the thing that symbolically bears the feminine, bringer and nurturer of life. Once we see how far the feminine is revered in the chapel, and the deep regard for the life forces of the world characterized by the multifarious carvings of plant life, we see that Rosslyn itself is a sort of cockle shell, cradling its treasures on the edge of the brae overlooking Roslin Glen.

  William Sinclair, founder of Rossly
n, with the cockle shell motif visible just below him.

  13. Mani and the Cathars

  Cathars, Bogomils, Patarenes, Albigensians: these are some of the names given to the followers of a remarkable spiritual teacher who lived in the third century ad, and whose influence was felt from Spain to China, before being savagely put down by various enemies, including, at last, the Church. Nevertheless, Mani’s teachings flourished for about a thousand years before they were subject to the wrath of their enemies.

  There are several carvings in Rosslyn that are connected to Mani. First, there is the architrave which on one side shows the seven cardinal virtues, and on the other, the seven deadly sins; there is a carving in the westernmost window in the north wall that shows a demonic figure holding the hem of the garments of a mother and child who resolutely turn away from him to face the long-stemmed cross held by an angel in the opposite corner, and there are details in the ceiling at the westernmost end of the chapel, which on the north side show the Fourth Heaven of the Cathars, including the sun at midnight, or spiritual sun, crescent moon and five-pointed stars, as well as the Dove with an olive branch; while on the south side, there are depicted the four Archangels of the seasons, with one raising his hands in the orant, or praying gesture of the Cathars.

  But before we discuss how these elements relate to Mani and his followers, let us consider his story.

  The life of Mani

  In the year 216 ad, on April 14, in the city of Seleucia-Ctesiphon, on the banks of the River Tigris, in Mesopotamia, a boy was born to a righteous man by the name of Fatak of the family Kurkabios. He was a pious and upright member of the sect known as the Elchasaites, a baptizing sect of Gnostics who were devotees of the teachings that were given in the name of the Hidden Power, or El-Chasai. Their way of life was austere and with few creature comforts.