by Tuvia Fogel
THE
JERUSALEM
PARCHMENT
“The Jerusalem Parchment is an exquisitely plotted love story amidst wild adventure that draws the reader deeply into medieval Jewish culture, Christian heresies, and the secrets hidden in the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. Searing apocalyptical obsession forges the three religions of Abraham into a believable synthesis, the Pearl that can bring world peace. This is a page-turner! I held my breath to the very end.”
BARBARA HAND CLOW, INTERNATIONALLY ACCLAIMED CEREMONIAL TEACHER AND AUTHOR OF REVELATIONS OF THE AQUARIAN AGE AND REVELATIONS OF THE RUBY CRYSTAL
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I had two objectives in researching and revealing these true events of eight centuries ago: the first was to follow in my father’s footsteps. He was a talmid chacham, that is a learned scholar of Torah and Talmud, who left us exactly thirty years ago. A few held him for a somewhat heretical kabbalist, while others diagnosed him as a manic depressive with messianic delusions. The second objective was to make my mother proud. She is a ninety-five-year-old Auschwitz survivor who is fortunately still alive and probably the only person happier than I am to see this novel finally come off the press.
Apart from my parents, I would like to express my gratitude to the several people, in no particular order, who most contributed to that happening. Rav Moshe Lazar, who instilled a love for Jewish Scriptures in me that keeps me studying them to this day; Elisabetta Dami, whose words nearly twenty-five years ago—“I think you and I must have met in the Middle Ages. You were a rabbi and I was a nun”—gave birth to the idea of the novel; Professor Asher Kaufmann, whose hypothesis that the Temples were 300 feet north of the Dome was the basis for the map hidden in the Parchment of Circles; my sister Chaja, a strong reader who made useful suggestions on the first draft of each chapter; Stefano Magagnoli, the first editor to believe in the story and the one who gave me the best advice, though it took me two years to put it in practice (beginner’s ego, I guess); I’m grateful to the whole team at Inner Traditions, who did a superlative job, with special thanks to Jon Graham for deciding that this novel would not be out of place in his publisher’s catalogue; heartfelt thanks to Peter Hubscher, who fell in love with my strange couple and did an amazing amount of work to promote the book; and finally my agent, former business associate and best friend Marinella Magrì, last but far from least on this list, for without her this book, like much else, would still be in a drawer.
THE WORLD OF THE JERUSALEM PARCHMENT
Dramatis personae
Fictional characters are in italics
Christians
Catholics Heretics Templars (and a Teuton)
Pope Honorius III Pierre de Gramazie Pedro de Montaigue
St. Francesco of Assisi Pons Roger Guillem de Montrodon
St. Dominic Guzman Abbot Boson Robert de Bois-Guilbert
Cardinal Pelagius Galvani Arnald Arifat Ansiau de Linniéres
Jacques de Vitry Aillil Arifat Iñigo Sanchez
Oliver of Padeborn Father Makarios André de Rosson
Ugo de’ Borgognoni The Old Man Frutolf of Steinfeld
Galatea degli Ardengheschi Mâitre Chalabi
Gudrun of Heidelberg
Rustico of Torcello
Garietto of Costanziaca
Bonifacio e Marciana Ottone
Jews and Muslims
Moshe ben Maimon Yehezkel ben Yoseph
Eleazar of Worms Pinhas ben Meshullam
Yehiel of Paris Yaakov of Gerona
Isaiah of Trani Shlomo of Toledo
Yitzhak of Dampierre Yasmine bint Twalia
Shimshon ben Abraham
Sultan al-Malik al-Kamil
The World of the Parchment
Contents
Cover Image
Title Page
Epigraph
Acknowledgments
The World of the Jerusalem Parchment
PART ONE: The First Day Chapter 1. רבאשתת רב אאלהי םא תהשמי םוא תהארץ
Chapter 2. Veruah Elohim Merachephet al-pnei ha-Mayim ISLAND OF TORCELLO, 8TH APRIL 1219–14TH NISSAN 4979
Chapter 3. Vayehi Or ISLAND OF TORCELLO, TEN YEARS EARLIER–15TH AUGUST 1209
Chapter 4. Bein ha’Or u’vein ha-Hoshech THE SAME 15TH OF AUGUST 1209, OUTSIDE THE WALLS OF CARCASSONNE
Chapter 5. Vayehi Voker TORCELLO, 10TH APRIL 1219
Chapter 6. Bein Mayim la-Mayim TORCELLO, 20TH APRIL 1219
Chapter 7. Hamayim asher mi-tahat ON THE SAME 28TH APRIL 1219, OUTSIDE AUBAIS, NEAR MONTPELLIER
Chapter 8. Shamayim ABOARD THE FALCUS, SOUTH OF THE PELOPONNESUS, 4TH MAY 1219
Chapter 9. Va-Tera’e Ha-Yabasha ABOARD THE FALCUS, SAILING WEST OF CANDIA, 5TH MAY 1219
Chapter 10. Vayikrah Elohim FOUR LEAGUES NORTH OF KALIVIANI, IN THE EXTREME NORTHWEST OF CANDIA, 5TH MAY 1219
KALIVIANI, 13TH MAY 1219
IN THE PREACHER’S HOUSE ON THE UNIVERSITY’S PREMISES IN PARIS, 25TH MAY 1219
PART TWO: Second and Third Day Chapter 11. Ose pri le-mino KALIVIANI, 27TH MAY 1219
HERAKLION, 31ST MAY 1219
Chapter 12. Asher Saro Vo ABBEY OF SANT’ANTIMO, FIFTEEN YEARS EARLIER, 26TH APRIL 1204
CASTEL ROMITORIO, LATER THAT DAY
CASTEL ROMITORIO, IN THE AFTERNOON
Chapter 13. Vayehi Erev THE SAME 26TH APRIL 1204, IN FUSTAT, NEAR AL-KAHIRA
PART THREE: Fourth and Fifth Day Chapter 14. Vehayu le’Otot OFF THE WESTERN TIP OF RHODES, 17TH JUNE 1219
Chapter 15. Le-ha’ir al Ha-Aretz BETWEEN ANTALYA AND CYPRUS, 19TH JUNE 1219
IN SIGHT OF CYPRUS, 20TH JUNE 1219
OUTSIDE THE CHRISTIAN CAMP AT DAMIETTA,THE SAME 27TH JUNE 1219
Chapter 16. Ha-Me’or ha-Gadol LIMASSOL, 27TH JUNE 1219
LIMASSOL, 29TH JUNE 1219
LIMASSOL, 6TH JULY 1219
Chapter 17. VaYiten Otam LIMASSOL, 13TH JULY 1219
LIMASSOL, 22ND JULY 1219
THE SAME DAY, IN JERUSALEM
Chapter 18. Ha-Hoshech OUTSIDE DAMIETTA, IN THE EASTERN NILE DELTA, 2ND AUGUST 1219
Chapter 19. Yom Revi’i OUTSIDE DAMIETTA, 10TH AUGUST 1219
OUTSIDE DAMIETTA, 20TH OF AUGUST
OUTSIDE DAMIETTA, 28TH OF AUGUST
Chapter 20. Ve-Of Yeofef FIVE LEAGUES SOUTHWEST OF DAMIETTA, 29TH AUGUST 1219
BOLOGNA, 12TH SEPTEMBER 1219
Chapter 21. Ha-Teninim Ha-G’dolim BETWEEN AL-ADILIYAH AND FÄRISKÜR, 12TH SEPTEMBER 1219
IN SIGHT OF THE SULTAN’S CAMP AT FÄRISKÜR, 12TH SEPTEMBER 1219
Chapter 22. Pru U’revu ACRE, 15TH AUGUST 1219
ACRE, 22ND AUGUST 1219
CHTEAU PÉLERIN, ATHLIT, 12TH SEPTEMBER 1219
Chapter 23. Vayehi Erev THE SULTAN’S CAMP AT FÄRISKÜR, 16TH SEPTEMBER 1219
FÄRISKÜR, 22ND SEPTEMBER 1219
FUSTAT, 29TH SEPTEMBER 1219
PART FOUR: The Sixth Day Chapter 24. Nefesh haya FUSTAT, 12TH OCTOBER 1219
AL-KAHIRA, 14TH OCTOBER 1219
Chapter 25. Kol Remes AL-KAHIRA, 7TH NOVEMBER 1219
AL-KAHIRA, 27TH NOVEMBER 1219
NEAR GAZA, 5TH JANUARY 1220
ROME, 5TH JANUARY 1220
Chapter 26. Ve-Yirdu CHTEAU PÉLERIN, 27TH JANUARY 1220
ACRE, 27TH JANUARY 1220
Chapter 27. Zahar U’Neqevah ON THE CLIMB TO JERUSALEM, 30TH JANUARY 1220
JERUSALEM, 31ST JANUARY 1220
JERUSALEM, 27TH FEBRUARY 1220
JERUSALEM, SUNDAY, 15TH MARCH 1220
VITERBO, 15TH MARCH 1220
Chapter 28. Vayevarech Otam JERUSALEM, MARCH 1220
JERUSALEM, FRIDAY, 27TH MARCH 1220
Chapter 29. Hine Natati Lachem JERUSALEM, MARCH 1220–NISSAN 4980
MOUNT OF OLIVES, MARCH A.D. 66
Chapter 30. Vayehi Chen NAZARETH, 2ND APRIL 1220–19TH NISSAN 4980
SEA OF GALILEE, 5TH APRIL 1220
Chapter 31. וירא אלהים את-כל-אשר עשה והינה טוב מאד ויהי ערב-ויהי בקר יום הששי"
Footnotes
About the Author
About Inner Traditions • Bear & Company
Books of Related Interest
Copyright & Permissions
Part One
The First Day
CHAPTER 1
רבאשתת
רב אאלהי םא תהשמי םוא תהארץ
IN THE BEGINNING
GOD CREATED THE HEAVENS AND THE
EARTH
(GENESIS, 1:1)
IN THE BEGINNING
WAS THE WORD
AND THE WORD WAS WITH GOD
AND THE WORD WAS GOD
(JOHN, 1:1)
CHAPTER 2
VERUAH ELOHIM MERACHEPHET AL-PNEI HA-MAYIM
And the Spirit of God Moved upon the Face of the Waters
ISLAND OF TORCELLO, 8TH APRIL 1219–14TH NISSAN 4979
With a northeasterly gale whipping waters and flatlands under a full moon, the Venetian lagoon felt like a world in the early stages of its creation.
Someone knocked on the low door of the dyers’ cottage.
Avraham, the older brother, got up from the crowded table to open it. A boy, no older than eight, stood on the threshold. A cloak was snapping in the wind, the old pouch and the walking stick were those of a wayfarer, but the upright bearing did not befit a pilgrim.
“Where do you come from, pilgrim?”
“From Egypt!” The wind tore the Hebrew words Mi-Mizraim from the child’s lips.
“Have you been freed from your slavery?”
“Yes, I am free!” squealed the figure proudly.
“And where are you headed?”
“To Jerusalem!”
“No, I beseech you, stop awhile and recite the Haggadah (Passover Tale) with us!”
Avraham let Nathan, the youngest, in, hugged him, and complimented him on his interpretation of the prophet Elijah. The small crowd in the dyers’ kitchen joyously welcomed father and son back into the warm light of the candles. Rav Eleazar stood up and recited a blessing over the fourth and last glass of wine. Everyone shouted “Amen!” and the famous German rabbi sat down with a smile, leaning back on his pillow as prescribed by the ritual of the Passover supper.
There was a pillow for the rabbi because the Ben-Porat brothers would never have neglected a single detail of this ritual, but it was just an old nightshirt filled with straw. Much of the tableware and traditional foods, too, were what poverty and ingenuity had suggested. Avraham and Shmuel Ben-Porat weren’t so poor they had to use eggshells for oil lamps, as the saying went, but they could only afford to run a Jewish home on the island thanks to the constant help of the communities close to the lagoon.
In those days—some twelve hundred years after the birth of Jesus—Jews could only reside in Venice for three months, and then only on the island of Spinalunga, a thin strip of marshy land south of the city. For decades they’d been allowed to come and trade with Venetians, on condition that they leave as soon as their trade was done, and since there had to be at least one house where an Israelite could eat and pray according to the customs of his obstinate race, some dyers had arrived to host Jewish merchants.
Dying cloth is exhausting, unhealthy work, done in malodorous vats; an occupation that assures a man he will be spared the anxieties that plague the rich. No community, Christian or Mohammedan, denied a Jew the privilege of adding color to their garments—in exchange, of course, for an appropriate fee, and usually confining him downwind of the town.
The Ben-Porats had been chased out of Spinalunga on a Sunday morning when the Sirocco had blown foul vapors from their vats into a local church for the whole duration of the Mass. They had eventually settled in Torcello, where the kindly abbess of the convent of San Maffìo had rented them a small farmhouse in the borough known as Campanelle, located on the north of the island, close to her community of eighteen Cistercian nuns.
Three months earlier, to their surprise, the brothers had been alerted that their house had been chosen for a secret meeting of six rabbis during Passover week. Hosting traveling Jews was the purpose of their voluntary exile from the mainland, but this time the news had seriously threatened the peace of their home because the dyers’ wives were humiliated by the thought of the bleak memories the six luminaries would retain of their sojourn in such a humble dwelling. The two women had become intractable, and their husbands’ reasonable objection that the rabbis’ choice of Torcello was surely dictated by the need to stay out of the public eye, not by a desire for luxury, had not improved their mood.
A few days before Pessah, the six rabbis arrived—one at a time and with no attendants. One from Trani, in Apulia; one from Gerona, in Spain; another from Lunel, in Provence. Then there were two Frenchmen, one from Dampierre, the other from Paris and finally, from Worms, in the Rhineland, the summoner of the meeting: Eleazar ben Yehuda, spiritual leader of the Hasidei Ashkenaz (German Pietists).
On Rav Eleazar’s request, Rav Isaiah of Trani—an olive-skinned, jolly little man whose smile, with a few more teeth, would have been irresistible—had brought with him a scroll of the Torah, protected by ninety-one spells cast by the rabbis of Apulia. For three times a day, despite the pestiferous smell occasionally filtering through from the dying vats, the holy scroll had turned the Ben-Porats’ kitchen into a synagogue.
It was, if truth be told, a bizarre meeting. On the night of the Passover meal those reputable rabbis should have been in their homes with their families, after leading prayers in their synagogues. But the invitation each had received from Rav Eleazar had been impossible to refuse.
My wise and honored friend, may God grant you a long life, and peace. I write to you concerning the meeting we have been postponing for two years. A recent dream revealed to me that it must be held, with God’s help, on the coming Passover, or we won’t hold it at all. A messenger will bring you details of the place, but I can tell you that it will be close to Venice. We shall remember our slavery in Egypt, hear from our brothers about conditions in the Egypt they inhabit today, and discuss the urgent questions of which you are aware. In short, we shall taste the bitter herb of persecution, as our forefathers did, in the hope that the Master of the Universe will hear our cry and send us a new redeemer!
Rav Eleazar, a descendant of the famous Kalonymos family, was a respected Talmudist, but it was as a mystic that his fame had traveled beyond Germany, including claims that he practiced the ancient magical traditions of the Jews of Babylonia. It was rumored that ten years earlier, with the help of some disciples, he had briefly given life to a golem*1on the banks of the Rhine. Be that as it may, Christians generally feared him as a powerful Jewish sorcerer.
But his frequentation of mysteries did not prevent him from being friendly with bishops and counts, and few Jews were better informed than Rav Eleazar of events in the Holy Roman Empire, or in the wider world. This mixture of piousness, politics, and magic was typical of a long line of righteous men (and on a few occasions, women) in Jewish history, born in distant lands and epochs—from Babylonia to Andalusia, from Morocco to Bohemia—as if carefully placed there to alleviate the travails of exile.
His fame convinced the rabbis to defy not just Passover custom and the dangers of a long journey, but also the risk of providing Christians with proof of the latest mamserbilbul,*2 as Jews referred to the increasingly frequent libels about the Children of Israel. The new one was a rumor, started in Norwich, that spread like wildfire through Christendom, claiming that every year a conference of rabbis in a distant land determined where a Christian child was to be killed as a Passover sacrifice, innocent blood then used by the Jews to bake their ritual unleavened bread.
So when Yehezkel ben Yoseph, the
youngest of the six rabbis, arrived at the last minute the day before from Lunel, in Languedoc, in the company of a Christian boy of about ten, the others had been incredulous, the Frenchmen closer to horror than disbelief. They had looked at the blond Christian boy and mumbled a stream of incantations into their beards, stopping short of the formula to be recited before Sanctifying the Name that is being martyred at the hands of pagans. Eventually, after regaining some composure, Rav Yitzhak of Dampierre had blurted out,
“Are our lives not sufficiently at risk as it is, Rav Yehezkel, meeting in secret amid the uncircumcised, without you bringing along a child of the gentiles? What’s more, just before their Easter hate-feast! Do you want us all—scholars, dyers, children—to have to Sanctify the Name?”
Yehezkel, a burly thirty-six-year-old, was bigger than all the other rabbis and his was the only beard with no white in it. His deep brown eyes and mild manner belied the strength suggested by a broad frame, a contrast also visible in surprisingly delicate hands at the ends of such muscular arms. He’d worn a simple brown caftan with a wide band of faded yellow silk around the waist and a low, mustard-colored turban on his head. A thread of twisted wool hung from his waist to his knees, dyed in a deep, brilliant blue that reminded him of certain wildflowers in the Egyptian desert.