Revelations of the Aquarian Age

by Barbara Hand Clow

  They had a leisurely dinner of many courses. The other dinner guests tried to ignore them, but didn’t succeed. Who are they? The older man is obviously the younger man’s father. Where did he find her? She’s a world-class beauty. Sarah was tingling with excitement as Simon ate her alive with his eyes all through the long dinner. David thought they were funny and persuaded them to skip dessert. He excused them to go up to their room and was extremely amused when every single head in the dining room turned in unison to watch them walk out. Their love, energy, and youth were palpable.

  Simon shut the door and went to her as she drew the drapes. “You’re an eyeful for a lonely and stressed-out man. You are as beautiful and desirable as ever, in fact more so because of the wisdom in your face. I’ve got some amazing things to tell you, but they’ll have to wait, or I’m going to split my pants.” They fell onto the large bed laughing and lost all control. She felt like she’d never been happier in her whole life as he stripped away her clothes and lost himself in her body. It was awesome to feel joyful again after so many long months.

  Later, she stood out on the balcony feeling a soft breeze, wondering who’d been in this room hundreds of years ago, since the hotel had been the archbishop’s palace in the seventeenth century. The balcony she stood on was only twelve feet from the opposite balcony and the narrow street two stories below thronged with late-night revelers spilling out of the Barri Gotic. It was great to enjoy the crazy street scene without feeling unsafe. He awakened and soon she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Come inside, darling. I have something to share with you that will make you very happy. For the first time in a year, I have great news.”

  He fished two brandies out of the wet bar and sat down with her in the sitting area. Soft breezes moved the drapes as laughter floated up from below. She studied his face, careworn but so beautiful to her, as she awaited his news.

  “I’m coming home, Sarah! I don’t have to go back in two weeks and maybe forever. The Times made the decision for me. I would have stayed with things, but they’ve given me a new assignment, maybe the best one of my career. I’ll tell you all about that in a minute, but for now I want you to know that after these four days in Barcelona, I’m coming home and staying.”

  Sarah was in shock and mumbled, “What? How! Is this for real? I can’t process it!”

  He stood up and walked over to grip her shoulders. “It is true, darling. I’m coming home! We’re going to enjoy Claudia’s sweet apartment together.”

  She sobbed with relief. “I’ve had to harden myself so much day after day to take this and still be a good mother for Teresa. I can’t believe this nightmare is ending!”

  “It is, baby, and now I’ll tell you what’s next. At last we can be a team again, maybe even be psychic; I need the ruby to tell what’s going on.” He touched her ring as he organized his thoughts. “Are you too tired? Should I wait until tomorrow?”

  “Are you kidding? I want to hear every word, every single one, immediately!”

  “Be prepared to have your pretty brain blown. Do you remember our discussions about the ossuaries in Jerusalem, the ones I wrote about for the paper?”

  “Of course. I loved those articles. As far as I’m concerned, if the truth ever gets out, it will collapse the Catholic Church.”

  “You’re more right than you know. New information on the ossuaries is coming out. Since I’ve already written about them, the paper wants me to follow up and cover the latest findings. My research will probably dovetail with yours!”

  Sarah thought back to past conversations about the Talpiot tomb, discovered in 1980, that contained ten ossuaries inscribed with the names of various members of Jesus’s family, yet one ossuary disappeared right away. An antiquities dealer, Oded Golan, presented an ossuary in 2002 that was inscribed “James, son of Joseph, brother of Jesus,” which was put on display in Ontario in 2003. Israeli authorities deemed it a forgery, seized it, and Golan had to fight in the courts about his ownership of the relic for eight years. They almost ruined him, and the complex legal battle over the ossuary drew attention away from the astonishing fact that the Jesus family tomb had actually been discovered.

  A big bestseller about the Talpiot tomb—The Jesus Family Tomb by Simcha Jacobovici and Charles Pellegrino—was published in 2007, and James Cameron made a documentary about the tomb that attracted a lot of attention. Meanwhile, the court case dragged on and on, and the public forgot about the whole thing. Hardly anybody noticed that Oded Golan was finally acquitted March 4, 2012, and the ossuary was returned to him.

  Simon continued, “Well, now that more attention is being paid to the Talpiot tomb, I’m back on the case. I’m thrilled because the public needs to wake up, and I can base in Rome. I don’t really have much more to say about the Yazidis and sexual slavery. Frankly, it just saddens me, so I’m thrilled to be home!”

  “I realize now,” Sarah broke in, “the author who wrote The Jesus Family Tomb is the guy that wrote The Lost Gospel, Simcha Jacobovici, a controversial book about Jesus and Mary Magdalene that came out in late 2014! I didn’t connect the dots until now. Claudia and I have been discussing The Lost Gospel, and even Armando has read it—imagine that! They funded a new translation of an early first-century document that is a truly authentic and heartwarming story. We’ve been discussing it because Armando finished a very important painting of Jesus and Mary that parallels the themes of The Lost Gospel. While you’ve been away, we’ve all been quite amazed by Armando’s work.”

  “We’ll be able to have roundtable discussions again, which I’ve missed so much. I can tell you about the ossuaries and other things, but I can see you’re getting sleepy, darling. So, let’s go to bed because we’re going to La Sagrada Familia tomorrow early.”

  They arrived at La Sagrada Familia at exactly 8 a.m. amazed to see long lines going all the way around the church though the doors would not open until 9 a.m. David said, “I don’t know how Pietro does these things, but looking at these throngs of people, I’m thrilled we can get in early.” The museum guard examined the passes, frowned, and then called a supervisor on his cell phone. A man approached wearing a police uniform looking them up and down as if they were criminals. Sarah smiled demurely.

  “Ah yes, David Appel; very good to meet you, sir. Normally this would not be possible, but you have connections. You will be alone in the church for an hour and then the people will begin to come in. Feel free to stay all day if you like. Please enjoy Gaudí’s masterpiece. Oh, you can bypass the metal detectors because we haven’t turned them on yet.”

  All three of them tingled when they came into the church. David felt a strange shift in his body as if something had slipped into him. Sarah watched him openly. “You okay? You look . . . transparent. Like I can see through you.”

  “I think I need to be alone. Please go off with Simon and I’ll be fine.” He walked away and strode right into the center of the nave as if he was being pulled.

  Sarah looked quizzically at Simon who shrugged his shoulders. “It’s okay, Sarah. He’s much more of a mystic than you realize; he keeps it under wraps. Let’s go meditate and we’ll find him later.”

  David was involuntarily drawn to the center of the nave where he stopped and stood with shoulders back, arms splayed out with hands facing forward. The energy coursing through his body would not allow any other stance. Tall columns colored in exquisite pastels rose up a few hundred feet from square bases, transforming into octagons, then into sixteen sides, and then into circles at the top—three-dimensional intersections of helicoidal columns, some turned clockwise, some counterclockwise. He barely saw the columns because his eyes were drawn to colorful mosaic medallions that shot out rays of light that beamed down into his body and rooted him. When the beams penetrated, his cells started spinning madly and made his body shake, but he held his ground there for almost a half hour.

  The pentagonal light form floating above his body was absorbing the beams of light from the medallions. His body and mind floode
d with the knowledge of all time—lives and history sweeping through his mind so rapidly that his brain was flashing like a multicolored kaleidoscope. My God, what a genius: Gaudí. He heard a commanding and confident voice:

  Welcome, David. You’ve brought me here and I see all is well. Now I will rest, the greatest forces in the universe are completing my church. David, listen and never forget: Hearing is the sense of Faith and seeing is the sense of Glory, because Glory is the vision of God. Seeing is the sense of light, of space, of plasticity, vision is the immensity of space; it sees what there is and what there is not.

  La Sagrada Familia

  Gaudí flew up into the universe, welcomed by a choir of blue angels singing for his soul.

  Simon and Sarah stood nearby watching David being obliterated within a column of light that came all the way down from a lens in the high ceiling. “Simon,” she whispered, “have you ever seen him like this? He is completely diaphanous as if all the cells in his body are crystalline as that amazing light passes through him.”

  David took a deep breath and returned to his body. While walking back to his son and daughter-in-law, he decided not to tell them he was a fragment of Gaudí. He was free after feeling very constrained for most of his adult life, that’s what mattered. The nave began to rustle with the muffled voices and stifled comments of awe coming from people who were streaming in. If I die tomorrow, I will have lived this life to the fullest. I’ve released him, now I am free.

  24

  Parallel Secrets

  The Medici Foundation called to say they would display Armando’s painting in the Chapel of Princes mid-October through Christmas. Later that evening, Pietro relaxed in the genealogy room with Alessandro. The only audible sound was brass rings scraping softly on iron bars hung with heavy burgundy drapes that periodically swayed in the night breezes. When Pietro came out of deep thought, Alessandro was staring at him, waiting.

  “Well, Pietro, what an honor to be invited to this room, a historic moment. Our ancestors have not always gotten along with all the rivalry between Florence and Siena, yet for you and me that is the past. As we both know, it is time for you and me to talk. I propose we each ask one question to ascertain something we’d like to know. If either one of us does not want to answer, then another question will be asked, maybe even another. Your expression suggests you are willing, so I shall begin with the way we Medici share.” Pietro nodded gravely.

  “The family crest on your ceiling is the only one I have ever seen with the oroboros and a swan taking flight. Please, will you decode the Pierleoni crest for me?”

  Pietro shifted nervously in his seat as he considered Alessandro’s craggy face. The deep, long lines between his nose and cheeks made it look like a sword had sliced his face. His disproportionately tall forehead looming over impenetrable coal black eyes made him owlish, yet tonight, excited curiosity suffused his face while he patiently waited. “Alessandro, after all these years, you would ask the one question I can’t answer. Lately, I have been teaching Armando about our crest, and I have not yet shared all the information. But, you do know what the oroboros means?”

  Alessandro nodded. “Yes, yes, of course. It is the swan that draws my interest.”

  An old floorboard creaked out in the hall. Pietro rose up quickly and went to the door that was slightly open to pull the breeze through. He didn’t see anyone. Matilda, with her heart thumping in her chest, had drawn quickly back and hugged the wall. He shut the door.

  “Yes, the swan,” Alessandro continued. “But of course, Armando must know first. So, assuming we are not being spied on, may I ask another question?” Pietro nodded wondering who’d been out in the hall. Who wants to know what I am discussing with a Medici—Matilda? “Pietro, do you know what the Knights Templar found in Jerusalem during the Crusades?”

  Pietro pushed his chair slightly back scraping the tile, put his head down for a moment, then looked up. “Yes, I do know, and that is my answer. I will not say anything more.”

  Alessandro chuckled. “Ah, cousin Pietro, I do not think I shall let you off that easily. A yes or a no is not really sufficient, don’t you think? Let me put it to you this way: we both know that it has to do with the ossuaries in Jesus’s family tomb, and, anyway Pietro, we are not going to kill you. If we’d wanted to kill some of you a few hundred years ago, you wouldn’t be here with me now, but here we are.” Alessandro discreetly rested his right hand on his knee exposing a gold ring set with an oval lapis signet engraved with a serrated X-cross.

  Pietro’s heart began beating so fast when he spotted the symbol on Alessandro’s ring that it scared him. It’s amazing how deeply ingrained this damned secrecy is. He coughed. “Alessandro, my dear cousin, please be considerate. I’m sure you know much more about things than I do, so what’s the point? We’ve had too much death over these things.”

  “Of course,” he said looking compassionately into Pietro’s eyes seeing that he was very distressed. “Pietro, I can divulge a few things on our side, then perhaps you will speak more freely. Let me put it this way: the reason we will show Armando’s painting to the public as soon as possible is because the time is ripe. As Pope Francis said last September, the world is at war, a protracted WWIII, the game changer. I’m sure you know that the truths we hold so tightly are what the world needs to halt the destruction. There will be no winners if this goes on much longer; the barbarity is truly horrible.”

  Pietro controlled his breathing to relax his heart. “Alessandro, may I bring out our record crystal? Perhaps it will help us.” Alessandro nodded, so Pietro went to a small corner cupboard, opened it with a large key, took out a very large clear crystal, and put it on the table between them. They both stared into it. “Do you believe the pope knows everything that we know?”

  “Is that your question, Pietro? If so, it is fine, I will answer it. But it will be your question.”

  The many things Pietro would have loved to ask him ran through his mind, but this was his question because he’d always felt he could play the game better if he knew how much the Vatican actually knew because his order was so deeply involved with the Vatican. “That is my question.”

  “All right. As far as we know, and I believe we do know, the pope does not know half of what we know. If he did, you and I would not be sitting here tonight. But, my reply is a bit of a yes and a no, so first I would like to add some things hoping they will inspire you to fill in more information. Pietro, be assured of it. The Vatican would have controlled the world if they’d gotten the information about what we found, gathered, and dispersed during the Crusades. I’m beginning to think your family has been as good at protecting the secrets as ours has been. Since you can trust me now, I can tell you that I see you already know what the nine knights found. That way, we’ll be on the same black-and-white checkerboard. You can share with me because we will be displaying Armando’s painting in front of the reliquaries.” He stopped, swinging a foot all dressed out in thin, gray wool socks in an Armani slipper and straightened his fingers on his knee drawing attention to his ring again.

  This last comment slammed into Pietro’s body. Alessandro was hinting as heavily as he possibly could to draw something out of him. What does he want? Blood pulsed through his temples as he stared into his record crystal and saw an exquisite flying swan inside—it is time. “All right, since you have been so forthcoming, so will I be: the relics brought by the nine knights are in your reliquaries and in one of mine too. I will not say more.”

  “Ah, Pietro, to be sure, that’s what I had to have,” he whispered in a low voice. “Our reliquaries contain the bones of Jesus, his wife Mary, and his son. We have them because the Templars brought them back to us.”

  Pietro looked at Alessandro’s craggy worn face trying to imagine the burdens he’d carried all these years. Generation after generation his family had protected the reliquaries by labeling them as popular saints, displaying them where all the people could see them. Pietro offered, “Well, you know, it is g
ood we can share this because the secrets are leaking out all over the place now. For example, with modern research techniques, the investigators of the Talpiot tomb are getting very close to the truth. The authors of The Jesus Family Tomb have said that the three skulls in the isosceles-triangle formation were placed there long after the tomb was sealed two thousand years ago, since they were found in newer soil deposits on the floor of the tomb. As we all know, the skull and crossed bones are the main Templar symbol. They speculate that around one thousand years ago, so very close to the First Crusade, somebody conducted a ceremony in that tomb, which for the Templars would have been one of the most sacred places on Earth.

  “Since The Jesus Family Tomb was published in 2007, scientific analysis has verified the first-century origin of the ossuaries; they are authentic. Going way back, logically, early Christians would have known about this tomb and kept it hidden, since the Roman Church was destroying any records of Jesus as a normal man with a family who died and was buried—most importantly, not resurrected. The Templars knew the location of the tomb and went there during the Crusades, one of the purposes of the Crusades. The things you and I have been afraid to share with each other are coming out in alternative research. Finally, the burden is off our shoulders with enough ground swell for the real truth to be shared with everyone!”

  Alessandro broke in. “You are right, Pietro. I too have assiduously followed these brave researchers, such as the Canadian Templar William F. Mann who writes about Templar sites in America. What he reveals is such a shock to people who still believe Columbus discovered America in 1492, that they can’t register it! I cried when I read his book, Templar Meridians, and he is bringing out another book next year that we must discuss once we’ve read it. We are hearing the real story of America, a revelation for the Age of Aquarius. As religious lies are being exposed at the end of the Age of Pisces, the story of the Jesus family lineage is the big revelation at the beginning of the Age of Aquarius!