The Templar Legacy (38 page)

Thorvaldsen sighed. “You have to forgive her, Cotton. She’s brilliant, artistic, a cognoscenta in music, a collector of antiques. But she inherited her father’s lack of manners. Her mother, God rest her precious soul, was more refined.”

“Henrik fancies himself my surrogate father.”

“You’re lucky,” Malone said, scrutinizing her carefully, “that I didn’t shoot you off that motorcycle in Rennes.”

“I didn’t expect you to escape the Tour Magdala so quickly. I’m sure the domain operators are quite upset about the loss of that casement window. It was an original, I believe.”

“I’m waiting to hear that truth you spoke about,” Stephanie said to Thorvaldsen. “You asked me in Denmark to keep an open mind about you and what Lars thought important. Now we see that your involvement is far more than any of us realized. Surely, you can understand how we’d be suspicious.”

Thorvaldsen laid down his fork. “All right. What’s the extent of your knowledge about the New Testament?”

An odd question, Malone thought. But he knew Stephanie was a practicing Catholic.

“Among other things, it contains the four Gospels—Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John—which tell us about Jesus Christ.”

Thorvaldsen nodded. “History is clear that the New Testament, as we know it, was formulated during the first four centuries after Christ as a way to universalize the emerging Christian message. After all, that’s what catholic means—‘universal.’ Remember, unlike today, in the ancient world politics and religion were one and the same. As paganism declined, and Judaism retreated within itself, people began searching for something new. The followers of Jesus, who were merely Jews embracing a different perspective, formed their own version of the Word, but so did the Carpocratians, the Essenes, the Naassenes, the Gnostics, and a hundred other emerging sects. The main reason the Catholic version survived, while others faltered, was its ability to impose its belief universally. They grafted onto the Scriptures so much authority that eventually no one could question their validity without being deemed a heretic. But there are many problems with the New Testament.”

The Bible was a favorite of Malone’s. He’d read it and much historical analysis and knew all about its inconsistencies. Each Gospel was a murky mixture of fact, rumor, legend, and myth that had been subjected to countless translations, edits, and redactions.

“Remember, the emerging Christian Church existed in the Roman world,” Cassiopeia was saying. “In order to attract followers, the Church fathers had to compete not only with a variety of pagan beliefs, but also their own Jewish beliefs. They also needed to set themselves apart. Jesus had to be more than a mere prophet.”

Malone was becoming impatient. “What does this have to do with what’s happening here?”

“Think what finding the bones of Christ would mean for Christianity,” Cassiopeia said. “That religion revolves around Christ dying on the cross, resurrecting, and ascending into heaven.”

“That belief is a matter of faith,” Geoffrey quietly said.

“He’s right,” Stephanie said. “Faith, not fact, defines it.”

Thorvaldsen shook his head. “Let’s remove that element from the equation for a moment, since faith also eliminates logic. Think about this. If a man named Jesus existed, how would the chroniclers of the New Testament know anything about His life? Just consider the language dilemma. The Old Testament was written in Hebrew. The New was penned in Greek, and any source materials, if they even existed, would have been in Aramaic. Then there’s the issue of the sources themselves.

“Matthew and Luke tell of Christ’s temptation in the wilderness, but Jesus was alone when that occurred. And Jesus’s prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. Luke says He uttered it after leaving Peter, James, and John a stone’s throw away. When Jesus returned He found the disciples asleep and was immediately arrested, then crucified. There’s absolutely no mention of Jesus ever saying a word about the prayer in the garden or the temptation in the wilderness. Yet we know its every detail. How?

“All of the Gospels speak of the disciples fleeing at Jesus’s arrest—so none of them was there—yet detailed accounts of the crucifixion are recorded in all four. Where did these details come from? What the Roman soldiers did, what Pilate and Simon did. How would the Gospel writers know any of that? The faithful would say the information came from God’s inspiration. But the four Gospels, these so-called Words of God, conflict with each other far more than they agree. Why would God offer only confusion?”

“Maybe that’s not for us to question,” Stephanie said.

“Come now,” Thorvaldsen said. “There are too many examples of contradictions for us to simply dismiss them as intentional. Let’s look at it in generalities. John’s Gospel mentions much that the other three—the so-called synoptic Gospels—completely ignore. The tone in John is also different, the message more refined. John’s is like an entirely different testimony. But some of the more precise inconsistencies start with Matthew and Luke. Those are the only two that say anything of Jesus’s birth and ancestry, and even they conflict. Matthew says Jesus was an aristocrat, descended from David, in line to be king. Luke agrees with the David connection, but points to a lesser class. Mark went an entirely different direction and spawned the image of a poor carpenter.

“Jesus’s birth is likewise told from differing perspectives. Luke says shepherds visited. Matthew called them wise men. Luke said the holy family lived in Nazareth and journeyed to Bethlehem for a birth in a manger. Matthew says the family was well off and lived in Bethlehem, where Jesus was born—not in a manger, but in a house.

“But the crucifixion is where the greatest inconsistencies exist. The Gospels don’t even agree on the date. John says the day before Passover, the other three say the day after. Luke described Jesus as meek. A lamb. Matthew goes the other way—for him Jesus brings not peace, but the sword. Even the Savior’s final words varied. Matthew and Mark say it was, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Luke says, Father, into your hands I commit my spirit. John is even simpler. It is finished. ”

Thorvaldsen paused and sipped his wine.

“And the tale of the resurrection itself is completely riddled with contradictions. Each Gospel has a different version of who went to the tomb, what was found there—even the days of the week are unclear. And as to Jesus’s appearances after the resurrection—none of the accounts agree on any point. Would you not think that God would have at least been reasonably consistent with His Word?”

“Gospel variations have been the subject of thousands of books,” Malone made clear.

“True,” Thorvaldsen said. “And the inconsistencies have been there from the beginning—largely ignored in ancient times, since rarely did the four Gospels appear together. Instead, they were disseminated individually throughout Christendom—one tale working better in some places than in others. Which, in and of itself, goes a long way toward explaining the differences. Remember, the idea behind the Gospels was to demonstrate that Jesus was the Messiah predicted in the Old Testament—not to be an irrefutable biography.”

“Weren’t the Gospels just a recording of what had been passed down orally?” Stephanie asked. “Wouldn’t errors be expected?”

“No question,” Cassiopeia said. “The early Christians believed Jesus would return soon and the world would end, so they saw no need to write anything down. But after fifty years, with the Savior still not having returned, it became important to memorialize Jesus’s life. That’s when the earliest Gospel, Mark’s, was written. Matthew and Luke came next, around 80C.E. John came much later, near the end of the first century, which is why his is so different from the other three.”

“If the Gospels were entirely consistent, wouldn’t they be even more suspect?” Malone asked.

“These books are more than simply inconsistent,” Thorvaldsen said. “They are, quite literally, four different versions of the Word.”

“It’s a matter of faith,” Stephanie repeated.

“There’s that word again,” Cassiopeia said. “Whenever a problem exists with biblical texts, the solution is easy. It’s faith. Mr. Malone, you’re a lawyer. If the testimony of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John were offered in a court as proof Jesus existed, would any jury so find?”

“Sure, all of them mention Jesus.”

“Now, if that same court was required to state which one of the four books is correct, how would it rule?”

He knew the right answer. “They’re all correct.”

“So how would you resolve the differences among the testimonies?”

He didn’t answer, because he didn’t know what to say.

“Ernst Scoville did a study once,” Thorvaldsen said. “Lars told me about it. He determined that there was a ten to forty percent variation among the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke on any passage you cared to compare . Any passage.And with John, which is not one of the synoptics, the percentage was much higher. So Cassiopeia’s question is fair, Cotton. Would these four testimonies have any probative value, beyond establishing that a man named Jesus may have lived?”

He felt compelled to say, “Could all of the inconsistencies be explained by the writers simply taking liberties with an oral tradition?”

Thorvaldsen nodded. “That explanation makes sense. But what compounds its acceptance is that nasty word faith. You see, to millions, the Gospels are not the oral traditions of radical Jews establishing a new religion, trying to secure converts, recounting their tale with additions and subtractions necessary for their particular time. No. The Gospels are the Word of God, and the resurrection is its keystone. For their Lord to have sent His son to die for them, and for Him to be physically resurrected and ascend into heaven—that set them far apart from all other emerging religions.”

Malone faced Mark. “Did the Templars believe this?”

“There’s an element of Gnosticism to the Templar creed. Knowledge is passed to the brothers in stages, and only the highest in the Order know all. But no one has known that knowledge since the loss of the Great Devise during the 1307 Purge. All of the masters who came after that time were denied the Order’s archive.”

He wanted to know, “What do they think of Jesus Christ today?”

“The Templars look equally to both the Old and New Testaments. In their eyes, the Jewish prophets in the Old Testament predicted the Messiah, and the writers of the New Testament fulfilled those predictions.”

“It is like the Jews,” Thorvaldsen said, “of whom I may speak since I am one. Christians for centuries have said that Jews failed to recognize the Messiah when He came, which was why God created a new Israel in the form of the Christian Church—to take the place of the Jewish Israel.”

“His blood be upon us and upon our children,”Malone muttered, quoting what Matthew had said about the Jews’ willingness to accept that blame.

Thorvaldsen nodded. “That phrase has been used for two millennia as a reason for killing Jews. What could a people expect from God when they’d rejected His own son as their Messiah? Words that some unknown Gospel writer penned, for whatever reason, became the rally cry of murderers.”

“So what Christians finally did,” Cassiopeia said, “was separate themselves from that past. They named half the Bible the Old Testament, the other the New. One was for Jews, the other for Christians. The twelve tribes of Israel in the Old were replaced by the twelve apostles in the New. Pagan and Jewish beliefs were assimilated and modified. Jesus, through the writings of the New Testament, fulfilled the prophecies of the Old Testament, thereby proving His messianic claim. A perfectly assembled package—the right message, tailored to the right audience—all of which allowed Christianity to utterly dominate the Western world.”

Attendants appeared, and Cassiopeia signaled for them to clear away the lunch dishes. Wineglasses were refilled and coffee was passed around. As the last attendant withdrew, Malone asked Mark, “Do the Templars believe in the actual resurrection of Christ?”

“Which ones?”

A strange question. Malone shrugged.

“Those today—of course. With few exceptions, the Order follows traditional Catholic doctrine. Some adjustments are made to conform to Rule, as all monastic societies must. But in 1307? I have no idea what they believed. The Chronicles from that time are cryptic. Like I said, only the highest officers within the Order could have spoken on that subject. Most Templars were illiterate. Even Jacques de Molay could not read or write. So only a few within the Order controlled what the many thought. Of course, the Great Devise existed then, so I assume seeing was believing.”

“What is this Great Devise?”

“I wish I knew. That information has been lost. The Chronicles speak little of it. I assume it’s evidence of what the Order believed.”

“Is that why they search for it?” Stephanie asked.

“Until recently, they haven’t really searched. There’s been little information relating to its whereabouts. But the master told Geoffrey that he believed Dad was on the right track.”

“Why does de Roquefort want it so bad?” Malone asked Mark.

“Finding the Great Devise, depending on what’s there, could well fuel the reemergence of the Order onto the world scene. That knowledge could also fundamentally change Christendom. De Roquefort wants retribution for what happened to the Order. He wants the Catholic Church exposed as hypocritical, the Order’s name cleared.”

Malone was puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“One of the charges leveled against the Templars in 1307 was idol worshiping. Some sort of bearded head the Order supposedly venerated, none of which was ever proven. Yet even now Catholics pray to images routinely, the Shroud of Turin being one of those.”

Malone recalled what one of the Gospels said about Christ’s death— after they had taken him down they wrapped him in a sheet—symbolism so sacred that a later pope decreed that mass should always be said upon a linen tablecloth. The Shroud of Turin, which Mark mentioned, was a cloth of herringbone weave on which was displayed a man—six feet tall, sharp nose, shoulder-length hair parted down the center, full beard, with crucifixion wounds to his hands, feet, and scalp, and scourge marks ravaging his back.