The Secret of the Ancient Alchemist (21 page)

“
The
Essenes existed thousands of years ago and were scattered through
many parts of ancient Judea. Is it possible that Joseph and Mary
were Essenes? Mary Magdalene?”

“
I
couldn’t say, Mr. Hart. They existed from time immemorial, even
before Moses. It’s suggested that it was Enoch who founded the
Essence sect. According to Philo, the Greek philosopher from
Alexandria, Moses trained many as Essenes.”

“
Did they
lend importance to the doctrines of Hermes Trismegetus? Any
connection to alchemy?”

“
It’s not
possible to say.”

“
Who
would have known that matter gave rise to a passion or an image
that has no equal?”

“
The
disciples and no one else, according to the Gospel of Mary
Magdalene.”

“
Is there
anything in Judaism that discusses mind and matter?”

Eli shook his
head. “No.”

Hart sighed.
“I’m searching for the truth.”

“
I
know.”

“
We don’t
know much about ourselves, do we? We live in ignorance of who we
are, but, much was told to mankind from gods who visited the earth.
The Gospel of Thomas makes a most significant contribution, if not
the most. A platform of possibility, human capability was expressed
in this gospel because it says when you come to recognize yourself
you must first recognize what is in your sight.”

“
Then,
what is hidden will be known,” Eli finished the sentence. He turned
and glanced down David Street as far as the Souk or Arab market.
There was much to remind him that he lived in a city quartered by
Jews, Muslims, and Armenians. Synagogues, domes, and ancient walls
reflected the obsession of the land. The light sun streaked across
his face as he turned back to Hart. “Origen considered the Gospel
of Thomas unorthodox as many did in his time. The Revered Cyril of
Jerusalem had considered it a work of three wicked disciples of
Mani, the founder of Manichaeism.”

“
Which it
wasn’t. Who else gave significance to the Gospel of Thomas, besides
Mani?”

“
No one I
can recall.”

Hart sighed
again. “Eli, according to the Gospel of Mary Magdalene, we should
be encouraged in the presence of all forms of matter. But, most
interestingly, it says every creature, every form lives in and with
each other and would be resolved again to its proper root. Matter
may exist not just in one but several dimensions. I need to verify
it.”

“
According to the Kabala, there are many realms, Mr.
Hart.”

“
But,
there’s no mention of matter.”

Eli sipped his
coffee. He couldn’t provide Hart with the stimulus he needed. He
wasn’t sure anyone could.

“
D’you
know what the soul is?” he asked swaying Hart from his obsession
with other worlds. The soul was almost unidentifiable he knew, and,
difficult to describe.

“
What’re
your thoughts on it?”

“
The soul
enters all humans at birth.”

“
I’ve
heard that.”

“
It
enters as hidden light.”

“
You
couldn’t tell me if it’s in a realm, could you?”

“
The soul
is in a realm of perfect form.”

“
Who told
you this?”

“
The soul
survives after death, Mr. Hart, and, some Jews believe the physical
body also survives.”

“
But,
what is it? What is the soul?”

“
There
are many definitions of the soul. Ruah is a breath of life. Nefesh
means self as in oneself.”

“
The soul
animates our bodies, doesn’t it? The soul is our real self, our
mirror image self.”

Eli chuckled.
“Something like that but, interpretation is difficult.”

“
Judaism
is a difficult religion, I must admit. Have you heard of a Science
called Noetic Science?”

“
It draws
on Quantum Physics, ancient mysticism and philosophy. It attempts
to prove that there are mind-matter interactions.”

“
Can we
move a mountain with our minds, turn a loaf of bread into a
thousand with a thought? The information I’m looking for will help
me clarify issues connected to this science. I need the pages of
the Gospel of Mary Magdalene. I’m sure it’s a treatment of mind and
matter, exonoesis and exohyle. We can access the universe. Our
minds connect to a supernatural mind.”

“
We
cannot accomplish supernatural things, Mr. Hart. We can’t move a
mountain, at least not in our realm. Our creative energy is small.
Maybe, in a higher realm, we can.”

“
The
missing pages of the Gospel of Mary Magdalene will tell me, Eli. I
know they will.”

Jerusalem was
calm that Friday morning. Hart gazed around to take his mind off
his obsessions. The Mamilla Centre’s design tarnished the beauty of
the Ottoman Walls, he thought, staring at it in the distance. He
turned to Eli.

“
Why have
all the gods abandoned us? They came centuries ago. Evidence points
to that. They came to give us direction and it pains me to think
they won’t come back.”

“
No one
has answers for certain but I believe a millennium of peace lies
ahead of us, Mr. Hart. We’re still in a time of darkness, a time
when we suffer, but a new age will begin. All the hidden things
will be revealed. Mankind will be restored and goodness will
flourish.” Eli finished his coffee and stood up. “Let’s take a
walk. You must see a few things. You have come so far.”

They walked
through the cobble stone streets and arches of Old Jerusalem City.
They stopped at Jaffa Gate and looked at the Tower of David. The
city was starting to breathe life and Hart could see scooters
shooting across streets and market places.

“
I’ve
always wondered about something.”

“
What,
Eli?”

“
Why does
page seven of the gospel begin with a question:
Will matter then be utterly
destroyed or not?
”

“
It’s
difficult to say exactly what the question refers to except that it
was a reference to the transformation of matter to dimensional
matter, a realm. There’s a realm of light in us.”

“
It’s
important you find those missing pages.”

“
How can
I?”

“
The
Gospel of Mary Magdalene was sold to a German art dealer in
1896.”

“
Where
could the pages have gone?”

Eli pointed to
the Armenian Patriarchate not far away. It was the ‘Vatican’ of
Jerusalem, housing the Calouste Gulbenkian Library. “They have some
idea of it. Mr. Hart.”

Thanking Eli
and saying goodbye, Hart crossed the street.

Chapter 45

The Armenian
Patriarchate was a place of ancient corridors and bearded men. A
strictly run institution, the front doors were closed at night for
a curfew. Visitors were restricted to the cathedral of St. James,
built on the tomb of the apostle, James.

It was a
remarkable step back in time for Hart. As he walked up the
cathedral steps, he felt hallow, being in a place of secrets and
mysteries. It was like nothing he’d ever witnessed. The scent of
the incense was cleansing and he was sure that it found favour with
the gods. He stopped along the aisle to gaze at Khachkars, stone
carvings bearing crosses and plant motifs and the most delicate
assemblage of hanging lights he’d ever seen.

Ten steps
later, his touring halted. Hart looked at the mystical man. His
brown robe bore five medallions and its collar was intricately
embroidered in white and gold. The man’s head was hooded and he
carried a pearl rosary in his hand. It was difficult to tell his
age but Hart estimated seventy. His Beatitude, Tori Alman, stared
back at him. He was not alone but surrounded by seven members of
his clergy.

“
I’m
sorry,” Hart said. “I’ve stumbled onto your service. I seem to have
a knack for it. I’m Tom Hart.”

“
Eli
spoke to us and we expected you, Dr. Hart. Sit.” Patriarch Alman
commanded.

Hart had to sit
on the floor. The cathedral had no pews. Around him, more lights
were being lit as plumes of incense billowed.

“
So,
you’re looking for the missing pages of a Gnostic gospel that
explains matter. Am I right?” The Patriarch was
forthright.

“
Yes, I
am,” Hart replied wondering if the Calouste Gulbenkian Library,
curate of four hundred illuminated manuscripts, would have them.
The Armenians were printers as far back as 1833. If copies of the
missing pages were not here, then they were nowhere.

“
We have
been following your work closely, Dr. Hart.”

“
You
have?”

“
And,
that of Dr. Olsen.”

“
I see.”
Hart wasn’t sure he wanted to hear all that.

“
Dr.
Hart,” Alman’s grey eyes shifted, “Why do you seek an inner
realm?”

“
Holy
Father, the Gospel of Mary Magdalene does say every creature, every
modelled form exists in and with each other. If that is not a
realm, then, what is? I believe it’s in us and I believe secrets
were told, secrets that define who we are. I need your help to find
them.”

“
I could
never quite understand why scientists feel the need to define
everything.”

“
I’m not
trying to. I’m trying to understand who we are and where we’re
going.”

“
Creation
is difficult to understand. You know that. I can’t help you
reconcile your beliefs that an inner realm can be reached through
the state of mindlessness and that through this realm, we can
achieve anything.”

“
I
understand,” Hart acquiesced. He reckoned the patriarch knew much
but would say little. “Your church Honors Thaddeus, one of the
twelve apostles of Christ. Your religion is one of age-old
traditions.”

“
But,
we’re not connected in any way to the early Christians of
Alexandria. We don’t know of any secrets and even less of realms.
The early Egyptians Christians took to the desert and lived in
seclusion. They were hermits.”

“
They
were influential, Father.”

“
Do you
know what
Hesychasm
is,
Dr. Hart?”

Hart shook his
head. “No.”

“
Hesychasm
is a
common tradition in Eastern Orthodox churches. It’s based on an
injunction.”

“
An
injunction?”

“
When thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou
hast shut thy door, pray.
It requires stillness of the senses to experience God.
However, documentation does not support a realm. Palamism is a
doctrine that asserts humans can become god-like through worship.
St. Athanasius, a bishop of Alexandria, supported it. There is
little else I could add.”

“
Okay,
but, we die and matter dies because we have been denied,” Hart
exclaimed.

“
Denied
what, Dr. Hart?”

“
The full
presence of a creator. We have to plead and beg for all that we
want. So, where are we going? What’s our journey?”

“
No one
knows.” Alman stepped forward. Amid the chant of an Armenian hymn,
he put his hand on Hart and said, “You’ve found the fifth
dimension. Say no more. No more.”

Hart was
crushed. Alman wanted to put a stop to him. But, he understood the
man’s position. He was the head of an important church. Hart
debated whether to leave or stand his ground. Alman seemed
gracious, truly a man of God. He would push his luck.

“
I want
the truth,” he said. “Is our path towards a perfect mind? Can we be
gods? Why has everything been hidden, ignored, like the purpose of
the mind when you know as well as I, it’s our true likeness to a
universal mind? Why’re we going around in circles with everything
and denied our place in the universe?”

“
Life is
a mystery. Everything is a mystery and, let it be, Dr.
Hart.”

“
No!” He
pulled a slip of paper from his pocket with five words on
it.
Zama
zama ōzza rachama ōzai
.
“Would you happen to know what these mean?”

The Patriarch
stared dumbfounded. “No, I don’t.”

“
These
words refer to some type of time machine, don’t they? Would that be
the vision mentioned in the Gospel of Mary Magdalene?”

Hart knew that
Hinduism was open about gods from other worlds. Vedic literature
spoke of inter-dimensional spacecrafts called Vimamas which were
said to move at the speed of thought. Still, confirmation was hard
to come by.

“
Only the
pages of the gospel can give you the answers you seek,” Alman
replied with all the reserve and patience he could
muster.

“
Do you
have them, Father?”

“
We
don’t. Many manuscripts were destroyed in 1949, during periods of
great upheaval.”

A young cleric
stepped forward.

“
What had
been discussed regarding matter and other worlds will always be
unknown. We’ll never know what was said to Magdalene, or, what she
had seen.”

“
Up to
1896 they existed and may still.” Hart’s voice was cracking
now.