The Phoenician Code
Page 14
Solomon realized that his plan to expand his kingdom, and enrich it with gold and jewels, through his coalition with the Queen of Sheba, might not see the light of day. He was stunned! There must be something he could do to change that, the King pondered in the stillness of the night. As days passed by, Solomon, the wise, conceived every trick he possibly could, to change the heart and mind of Balkhis. However, the Queen had already surrendered her mind and heart to the energetic aura of the Master Architect. They convened, almost every day, around the palace, and in the Temple. Solomon, infuriated at seeing his dream fading away, refused to accept such insult and deception any longer. He was the King, after all, the great King of a big nation! His majestic eyes flickered dangerously in anger.
Heeding the royal rage, Balkhis and Hiram started to meet in secret, for they both knew the King was readily determined to destroy the strong bond that tied them together. In fact, the King began to pressure the Architect and treat the Queen with disrespect. Both, Balkhis and Hiram, realized that their secret relationship could not continue, as long as they stayed in Jerusalem. They decided to leave the city and set up a plan, accordingly. Balkhis, who no longer held the King in high esteem, asked her court to prepare their secret departure. After having built one of the most beautiful Temples to house God and the Ark of the Covenant, for the King, Hiram ended, despising Solomon.
At night, the Architect made his final visit to the Temple, through the west gate, to admire one of his loftiest creations for the last time. Moments later, as he stepped out from the south gate, Hiram—also known as Adoniram—was assaulted by a man, who had previously asked him for the secrets of Mastership. After brilliantly managing to escape, Hiram was then attacked by the brother of that man, lurking in wait for him at the north gate. The second aggressor failed, as Hiram flew toward the east gate, where, unfortunately, death awaited him. In fact, the third brother captured him there, and slay him, right there; inside the Temple Hiram had built with much faith and love. With his death, he took the secrets—the secret word of the Master—to the grave. That night, Balkhis waited long hours for Hiram to join her on a small hill, under a Cedar tree, to the eastern side of the Temple. This particularly beautiful Cedar tree, Hiram had brought from Tyre, years ago, as a reminder of his beloved Lebanon, and planted it on that hill.
Paul halted, gazing pensively at the sea for some moments, and then, the remaining part of the story flashed back in his mind.
As an experienced Architect, Hiram had believed that every project was a new adventure that would enable him to unleash more of his Masonic imagination and skills. In his mind, he had envisioned a perfect Temple, much more monumental than the one of Jerusalem.
“Where is he? He is late!” Balkhis fretted, impatient. Night fell, bestowing dark despair upon her. She realized that Hiram would not come that night, and maybe not… ever! Struck by this gloomy revelation, she knew, without a doubt, that Solomon had a lot to be held accountable for. She rushed to him in query, yet Solomon denied it. He suggested that Hiram must have returned to Phoenicia. Balkhis refused to believe him. She knew the man to whom she was betrothed, and with whom she had planned to travel to Yemen for their wedding, in a Temple Hiram was to build in Sheba. Her heart cried silently, “Where is my lover? He just couldn’t have left me here alone!”
The grin in King Solomon’s haughty face filled her with fear. An alarming awareness drenched her eyes with tears, and her heart with anguish. Yet, her queenly dignity impeded her from breaking down in front of Solomon. She whirled on her heels, and left the palace with such poise as befitted her stature. Inside her royal tent, Balkhis wept out her heart in silence. With the certainty of Hiram’s death, her dreams, her love, and her hopes vanished painfully. King Solomon had failed to win her love… and her kingdom. That same night, the Queen of Sheba left Jerusalem for Yemen, leaving behind her a frustrated King and… her shattered heart.
“What a story!” Youmna suddenly spoke, awakening Paul from memories of the past. “Who were the three brothers who murdered the Architect?” she asked.
Paul sighed, and gazed at the sea again, trying to absorb all the secret meanings behind this story. He pondered for a moment, Who killed the Architect?
“Well, Masonic legend bestowed many different names to the three killers of Hiram Abiff.” He said. One theory claimed the names to be: Jubela, Jubelo, and Jubelum. Names related to Jubel, Gebel…”
“Gebel!” Youmna exclaimed, surprised. “Were the three presumed killers Phoenicians? It cannot be. Right?” she questioned, in shock.
“This is just a theory, Youmna, a mere hypothesis that I strongly doubt,” the historian retorted seriously. He looked at her; she looked confused.
“It is most probable that the founders of this conjecture have based their allegation on the historical connection that related Hiram Abiff to the dexterous artificers he brought from Gebel,” he explained. “Working for him, they must have been lured by the knowledge of the secrets he knew, and that was the reason why they sought to kill him.”
She looked at him, expectantly.
“However, since they were skilled in the art of Masonry, and had been engaged in building so many Temples in Gebel, and all around the land of Phoenicia, this accusation falls short of logic, and can’t find ground, especially with the Guild of Sacred Builders of ancient Phoenicia and Egypt.”
“That’s what I thought,” Youmna stated, albeit unsure she understood the last sentence.
“Strangely though,” he added, “Masonic dictionaries clearly cite the three names in the plural form, as the Juwes!”
“Juwes?”
“Yes. It meant Jewish masons or brothers. They might have been working simultaneously for Hiram and King Solomon. Or perhaps, working secretly for the King, who desired to know the few but interesting distinctions, kept secret from him by the Architect.”
“I still don’t understand, Paul,” the Alchemist confessed, looking at him, after a moment of silence had passed. “I mean… why the huge inconsistency in the Masonic accounts of two totally different and opposing accusations, against the killers of Hiram?”
“I frankly don’t know the answer to that, Youmna,” he admitted solemnly. “I’m not a specialist in secret societies, as you well know,” he turned his head, and looked into her eyes. “I guess we should dive deeper into that, don’t you think?”
She nodded.
A King, a Queen, an Architect, a Temple, an adventure, a love affair, a mystery, a murder… all that mixture in just one story. Could it be a historical fact, pure imagination, or just an allegory for something else? Paul thought.
A soft touch on his left shoulder dragged him out of his thoughts a few moments later. His eyes met the green eyes of Youmna, staring at him with a hint of shyness. Preoccupied by his inquiries, he had almost forgotten her, standing next to him.
The Sun, shimmering on the surface of the Mediterranean Sea, declared a day of great revelation.
“Let’s go to the base camp,” she said smiling, but before they set to leave, she stopped. “What happened to the Ark of the Covenant?” she asked.
“A lot,” he said. “I will narrate that interesting part, later on.” He smiled, as he led the way to the base camp.
.16.
The Inscription Revealed
Wednesday, October 20, 4:17 PM
Back inside the tent, the keen Archaeologist—bending over the table, in the center, and bounded by Jim and her devoted assistant—seemed bewildered, extremely preoccupied by the Stone, looking at it through the special spectacles Archaeologists and Alchemists use.
“Yeah… it seems so,” she said in reply. “Youmna and Paul should be right here now, to take a look at what the Stone has just revealed,” she added, without even noticing that both the Historian and the Alchemist had just entered the tent at that very moment. “I’m sure they would be much intrigued by the new findings we just made,” Maya spoke with interest, as she smiled to both men, standing around her.
“What is it?” Paul rushed to ask.
“Well, it seems that Thor, who sketched the Temple, or had one of his masons sketch it for him, did not ignore to mark its dimensions,” Maya informed them. “They are calculated in the following order: the length of the first part, which is the entrance walk from the basin towards the stairs, and up in between The Pillars that lead inside the anteroom, is 15 arms. The second part that constitutes the main hall, known as The Saint, is 15 arms, as well. Finally, the third part that holds the ritual room, called The Saint of Saints, is measured at 5 arms. The width of all the parts of the Temple is 15 arms, and the height is also 15 arms.”
A moment of silence ensued in which they pondered over the dimensions of the Temple.
“Amazing!” Paul uttered, inwardly questioning the veracity of what he had just heard.
Maya nodded in assent, with a wide grin on her face. “It’s true, Paul,” she confirmed, inviting him to have a look at the new discovery.
His eyes brightened.
“Wow… You have to take a look at this, Paul,” Youmna’s voice, who had rushed to examine the sketch on the Stone, echoed loudly inside the tent. “It’s true what Maya is saying!” She halted, suddenly. “Oh my God…” she sighed. “The inscription too!” she exclaimed.
“What about the inscription, Youmna?” Paul inquired, confused. “Oh! Do you mean to say that the lost letters, forming the missing words of the inscription, have been finally revealed?” He lifted an eyebrow in disbelief.
Jim and Zago remained motionless.
“Yes, Paul,” she replied joyfully. “The inscription is completely revealed now,” she added with satisfaction. “Listen to what it says:
‘I am Thor the Geblite, Inventor of the Sacred Alphabet
This is the Bet(h) of God, El-Elyon
The Seven-Pillared Temple
It was built with the arms of the Kabbirim to the Sun
See its sketch here on the right, and behold the Cup of Life, hidden in the Saint of Saints.’”
She finished reading in absolute astonishment.
The Cup of Life! Paul wondered within the depths of his mind.
The tent was in total quietness. Not a whisper was heard. The revelation was just amazing, too overwhelming for anyone to comment on it. The Mystery of the Great Phoenician Temple had been solved at last, and the ruins had spoken after thousands of years of absolute silence.
The team was on the verge of a great discovery.
“The Seven-Pillared Temple… the Pillars… the Saint… the Saint of Saints… the statue of the God Al… the Cup of Life…” Paul whispered so softly that the rest could barely piece together what he had just said. “I just noticed something of great importance,” he stated.
“What is it?” Maya questioned in an eager voice.
“Well, I just came to realize the difference between the alleged Temple of Solomon and this Great Phoenician Temple. The Old Testament narrates that the altar that held the Ark of the Covenant—that special agreement between the Hebrew God and his people, through their first spiritual leader, Moses—was placed in the Holy of Holies,” he paused, meditating. “Whereas here, in the Saint of Saints, the Phoenician Priests placed the Great Altar that held the Cup of Life—the Grail that contained the Elixir of Life, given by God to Humanity.”
A soft breeze swept through the tent.
“Amazing!” uttered the Alchemist, profoundly reflecting upon this. “The ancient Stone, the Philosopher’s Stone, the Elixir of Life… it’s all here,” she declared, overwhelmed.
“I often wondered about the Ark,” Zago suddenly spoke, speculating. “What is the exact story, Paul?” he asked, unable to conceal his fascination.
The Historian smiled, took a deep breath, as his mind began recollecting from books he meticulously investigated.
Harsh creaking and crunching sounds met him, the moment he took his very first steps into the unknown space ahead. A strange, powerful energy filled him, as he started to inhale a different kind of air. It was unfamiliar, even peculiar, this feeling that pervaded him along the path he treaded. Mysterious textures tinted the odd forms and shapes of the surrounding existence. Surely, he was in a different world, and quite reasonably, the hidden nature of this world bewildered him deeply. ‘Was it hostile or peaceful?’ he thought. ‘Demonic or Angelic?’ he ignored this. Nonetheless, the long river nearby deluded his brain, and enticed his imagination, which became openly receptive to the unusual vibrations in the air.
The wilderness of the Egyptian desert!
An ancient time and place, when holy books and history had registered in the collective memories of nations…
He continued his journey into revelations, traipsing on the cracks of long-time dried soil. At a crossroad, to the left, a fire kindled from a bush before him. He stood in awe. His name was Moses, and the bush introduced itself, ‘I am what I am.’
Ever since that meeting with their God in the desert, the Hebrews became known as the “Chosen People”! The Ark of the Covenant had been given to Moses, and it traveled with him and his people everywhere they went. It dwelt with them for forty years in the desert of Sinai, and later accompanied them into the land of Canaan, traveling inside a tent from one place to another.
After many long years of struggle in Egypt, wars against the Canaanites and others, the Hebrews experienced a nomadic life in the Middle East. They finally settled down in the Land of Canaan. It was a promise, or rather, an agreement signed between them and their God. Everyone who stood against them, along the way, from the Pharaoh of Egypt to the people of Canaan, defending their Land, were defeated in the end because the God of the Hebrews was much wiser, and much stronger!
Henceforth, the Hebrews won over their enemies, and lived in Jerusalem and in neighboring villages, as well. There existed, however, a people in the region, the Old Testament narrated, always ready to fight against them: the Philistines. During those endless wars, the Philistines succeeded once, in stealing the God dwelling Ark, which was restored back to its original place in the heart of the Tent after a ferocious battle… at the time of David. With his son, Solomon, this was destined to change. The Ark would no more be carried by nomads, wandering around, as had previously been the case. On the contrary, it would finally find a resting place, inside a Temple, forever, a Temple to be built especially in reverence to the Covenant between YHWH and His people!
Upon a special request made by King Solomon to King Hiram of Tyre, said the Old Testament, the famous Phoenician Architect, Hiram Abiff, prepared his fellow artisans, the best masons in the land, and headed to Jerusalem, to lay the foundation of the Temple of God!
All around the Mediterranean world, the Phoenicians, along with their brothers, the Egyptians, had excelled in the art of stonework, and in building great edifices to the divinities they worshipped. Their reputation had spread widely, at that time, all through the neighboring countries, including Jerusalem.
Accordingly, King Solomon approached his good neighbor, King Hiram of Tyre, to dispatch the best artificers among the skilled Phoenician masons. King Hiram also supplied trees—cedar trees for the roof of the Temple. Satisfied, Solomon ordered the initiation of the construction, happy to realize, at last, his long-held dream.
Now, the Hebrew God and the Covenant He made with His chosen people would finally find an eternal resting place. Inside the third part of the Temple, in the Holy of Holies, the Ark and Yahweh, finally rested, altogether. The two pillars—Joachim and Boaz—stood as guardians at the door of the Temple, ever ready to protect it.
As time elapsed, Jerusalem became an unsafe place for Yahweh, the Ark, and the Temple. Many different invasions followed, but the most terrifying remained—the ones of the Assyrians, between 700 and 600 BC, and those of the Babylonians, in 587 BC, under King Nebuchadnezzar—which totally destroyed the Temple, and crashed the two guardian pillars to th
e ground.
However, the Biblical account revealed that some Jewish priests survived the invasion, took the Ark of the Covenant away from Jerusalem, and hid it in a today-forgotten place. Others stated that Solomon gave it to his son, born from his relationship with Balkhis, the Queen of Sheba. In consequence, the Ark could be hidden somewhere in Yemen! Some say in Ethiopia!
Paul finished laboring through his memory, looked at Zago who had heard him well, and then all around him, “Another story… Another mystery... However, regardless of which story we refer to, the Ark of the Covenant was lost. Afterwards, chaos prevailed in the lives of the ‘chosen people’…” he said in conclusion.
The recounting had been great, and the team had thoroughly enjoyed the story, as if they had attentively watched all these events unfurling in successive frames before their captive eyes. Nevertheless, could all that be true history, or just an accumulated work of myths?
Some moments of reflection lingered their minds, yet back to reality, minutes later, and after looking at the sketch for a while, Jim began drawing a copy of it on a piece of paper, along with the dimensions of the Temple, as recorded on the Stone, with great infatuation. “Does anybody know how much an arms-length is, in centimeters?” he inquired.
“70 centimeters, as I remember,” Maya replied.
“Aha I see. So… 15 arms are equal to 1,050 centimeters, or 10.5 meters. I guess this would be the length of each of the two parts, the first and the second. The width and the height are also 10.5 meters each. As for the length of the third section, it would then be 3.5 meters.”
“Hold on a bit, Jim,” she rushed to say, lifting an eyebrow to him in confusion. “Would you please repeat the numbers, and give me the total length, width, and height again?” she asked.