Authors: Adriana Koulias
THE BEE AND I
I
am not a troubadour and yet I sing. I am a bishop and yet I do not belong to any church. I have come to what I know by way of ignorance and what I possess is mine because I am dispossessed. I am only here because I have sacrificed all certainty and yet, that is how I am certain that the end of my song is only a beginning.
I
t has taken me long to descend this pog and all the while you have listened to my song. I think you and I have always known how it would end, haven’t we? I am not sad for it and neither should you be. I must atone for all the lives which I have taken and all the mistakes that I have made. Those that have suffered at my hand are now waiting to pronounce judgement on me on that field below, this is the Wisdom of God and I bow down to it in freedom and choose to love even those whose task it is to carry it out.
And yet a
ll is not lost. I look now to the summit of Bidorta like that centurion who long ago sat upon a horse waiting for the sun to creep over the rim rock of the mountains. This dawn however, I am not looking for Mithras, I am looking for the sign that our treasure is safe for only then can we go to our deaths in peace. My eyes are fixed to that summit as I walk into the palisades built to contain us on this field, a field which one day you will know as
The
Field of Fires
. Holding the hand of the Marquésia de Lantar on one side and the hand of Saissa de Congost on the other I step onto the logs constructed into one great pyre and I think of Guilhabert.
Poor Guilhabert had seen the future those moments before he died. He had seen where his
promise might lead and had been desperate for my forgiveness. How strange and yet how natural it is to know that he was once that stubborn woman, Claudia Procula! In Guilhabert her independence had been transformed into service, her love into his joy, her devotion into his understanding. The woman I revered in one life became my dearest friend in the next, and so it will go on, from life to life.
But t
he soldiers of France are setting fire to the straw and the fagots that have been dipped in pitch. The air is damp and the smoke rises black at the perimeter and we, two hundred men and women, all Friends of God, huddle in the middle, watching the plumes stain the air around us. The black friars, the inquisitors and the Clergy move away, singing their songs and so they do not see what I see.
There
is the sign! High above on the snowy summit of Bidorta a light is kindled, a blaze of yellow fire as bright as the sun illuminates the dawn and causes us all to smile! I am full of peace, for the child is safe! You see amongst those many things that Lea showed me was the identity of the charge of the Marquésia de Lantar. That beautiful boy who is Lazarus-John born again.
He
is our greatest treasure, a child destined to be the founder of a great school of knowledge whose members will be called Rosicrucians, those who can add the living wisdom of the rose to the cross of death, for Lazarus John was baptised with fire by Christ Himself. Perhaps in those far off times I shall meet him again? Perhaps I shall be one of his followers?
Matteu
will also safeguard books of John and those writings I have called The Fifth Gospel which are interpolated among them. For now they are safe! Lea showed me how in future times Matteu will return to find these treasures again as a young Grail historian, a German. He will save them from the grasp of unworthy souls.
B
ut the bee’s buzzing takes me from my ruminations. It circles over my head one last time before flying upwards to that saffron dawn. And as the flames rise higher and come nearer and the heat begins to prick my skin – in that moment before the pain consumes me and my own screams fill my ears – I imagine that I follow the bee out of this momentary terror and waste. I imagine that I float over the Fields of Fires a moment before flying away with her to a rose hedge to wait for the future.
I
n that far off time the sun will continue to rise in the east and to set in the west, Raphael and Leonardo da Vinci will have come and gone, thoughts will travel from one end of the earth to the other in the blink of an eye and a man will be able to hold all the books in the world in the palm of one hand. And if you are holding
this
book in your hand, then perhaps it is because The Fifth Gospel has not been forgotten?
Only
you can know this with certainty, my friend, for although it is true that no accident rules the universe, it is also true that the heart of a man has a will and something of his future must remain a mystery, even to God.
Over the centuries many have foretold the coming of a new Gospel. In the twelfth century Joachim of Fiora spoke of an Immortal Gospel. Novalis, the great poet also presaged it.
In Revelations, St John speaks of an Everlasting Gospel, a fifth gospel that would be given to humanity by an angel at a time of great tribulation.
Just before the First World War, t
he Austrian philosopher and Spiritual Scientist Rudolf Steiner gave the world The Fifth Gospel. But before doing so he had to make appropriate preparations. In 1911 Rudolf Steiner touched on a very controversial subject – the mystery of the two Jesus Children. In a series of lectures he answered age old questions concerning the differences in the canonical gospel accounts of the birth of Jesus, particularly the differences found in Matthew and Luke.
It is hard to imagine today the
impact of such lectures on the minds of the people of those times, particularly because the mystery involved two Children. The first child, whom I call Yeshua, was born at the time of Herod the Great and the other child, whom I call Jesus, was born around two years later at the time of Quirenius and the Census. According to the Matthew Gospel, Magi visited the first child. Conversely, in Luke’s account, Shepherds visited the second child. Rudolf Steiner resolves these discrepancies by explaining how both children were destined to unite as one to become the man known as Jesus of Nazareth.
It was not until l
ater, in October 1913, that Rudolf Steiner gave his lectures on The Fifth Gospel, a gospel that can only be read in the Akasha. In these lectures he illuminates for the first time those ‘missing’ years in the life of Jesus of Nazareth between his 18
th
year and his 30
th
year, and his ultimate unification with Christ. I would highly recommend a reading of his lectures if you would like to continue exploring the many mysteries found in this novel.
As you can see,
I could not have written this book without Rudolf Steiner. But I also owe a great debt to Alfred Edersheim, a biblical scholar and converted Rabbi who combined his knowledge of both Judaism and Christianity in
The Life and times of Jesus the Messiah,
printed in 1883. These volumes were a godsend! They were a rich resource of detailed information not only on the history of those times but also on the intricate economic, religious and cultural details of day-to-day life. Edersheim gave me the tools I needed to carve out an authentic milieu replete with smells, colours and sounds.
I must also acknowledge those who are nearest and dearest
to me. I would not have written this book if not for my mother’s encouragement, as it seemed to be such a daunting task. She listened to endless readings of my work and gave me many valuable suggestions and I am forever indebted to her. I would also like to thank my husband Jim who gave me practical and moral support and read countless drafts, helping me to sensitively edit a very long book (yes longer!) and to cut it down in size without losing its essence. I am always truly grateful for his pragmatic and systematic approach to difficult problems. I am grateful to Simone Selby for providing valuable input from a Judaic perspective and to Jennefer Zacarias and Brigitta Gallaher, who gave the book their attention and support. Lastly, thanks must also go to Danica Wolkiser and Richard Distasi, for their help with editing.
When Rudolf Steiner
gave his lectures on the Fifth Gospel he said that, ‘some time in the future it will be put into definite form’. This novel is one attempt; no doubt there will be others. For my part, I have endeavoured to breathe life into the more important elements found in Rudolf Steiner’s Fifth Gospel and his lectures on the other four gospels, as far as this is possible within the framework of a single novel.
As this is a work of fiction
, I have used artistic license to paint a vast picture with broad strokes, adding texture and context by interpolating into the main narrative a time in history when humanity’s struggle to understand the manifold and complex mystery of Christ Jesus resulted in intolerance, persecution, suffering and war.
Palestine in 33 AD
was not so different from France in 1244.
Today
the struggle continues…will it ever end? Perhaps not, but in struggle there is suffering and in suffering compassion, and in compassion true brotherhood.