The Kabbalist (33 page)

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Authors: Yoram Katz

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“But my dear,” said
Orlev softly, “the story of Judas has been an embarrassment to Christian
scholars for ages. Many have commented that if, as Christianity asserts, all
these events were part of a grand scheme devised by God to redeem humanity of
its sins, then what is Judas to be blamed for? Should he be blamed for
following God’s Master Plan? For facilitating the event which eventually led to
the breakthrough of Christianity? Many scholars were quite concerned with this
obvious contradiction. So, while they had to succumb to the notion that Judas
was indeed punished by hell, they actually claimed it was not because of the
extradition, which had been forced upon him, but because he had committed
suicide.”

Jeanne looked
bewildered. “Anyway,” she blurted out, “you are building too much upon too shaky
a foundation.”

“I agree it would have
been much more convincing, if I could show you tangible evidence to prove it.
If, just for argument’s sake, Jesus and Judas had kept diaries, documents
describing their day-to-day life, or even explicitly recording their ideas …”

“Like, perhaps, the de
Charney documents?” Luria saw where the professor was heading.

The professor waved his
hand angrily. “I have already told you that I do not appreciate you calling
them thus.”

“I meant the Safedi
documents,” Luria corrected himself. “Could they be your missing diaries?”

“Yes,” said Orlev.
“This is a possibility."

“Let us examine this
possibility, then.” Luria was really curious now. “How could such documents
have found their way to Safed? And how did Jesus’s ideas end up in Kabbalah?”

“Aha!” called the professor
enthusiastically. “There are several potential scenarios, and Jeanne’s family
story helped me narrow them down.” Jeanne, who seemed to have been lost in
thought, raised her head when her name was mentioned.

“Go on,” said Luria. “I
am intrigued.”

“All right, here is a conceivable
scenario: Jesus kept a journal in which he documented events in his life as
well as his plans and ideas. He may have even included the few pages of ‘
Sefer
Yetzira’
there. Judas, his disciple and associate, kept his own journal, if
only to help him at the time when he was to take over. Now, suppose that during
the hectic events of that fateful Passover, both journals somehow fell into the
hands of the
High Priest Joseph Caiaphas and
ended up in the Temple’s archives.”

“How could that happen?” Jeanne wanted to know.

Orlev was quick to answer. “Remember both Jesus and Judas, were
interrogated by Caiaphas and his men before their tragic deaths. Now, let's
suppose that with the demise of the Temple, one of these journals, say Jesus’s,
which we will term for convenience the ‘
Jesus Scroll’
, was salvaged and somehow
reached Yavne, the newly established center of Judaism. A few decades later,
this scroll found its way into the hands of Rabbi Akiva and his student Rabbi
Shimon Bar Yochai – the Rashbi. In this scenario, the two were deeply influenced
by the ideas expressed in the document. The fact that its source might have
been attributed to the lost Temple, could have added certain aura to it. These rabbis
were confirmed Pharisees. They were breathing
Derash,
and Kabbalistic
ideas perfectly fit their thought processes. They must have felt they had
stumbled upon a treasure. After the failure of the Bar Kochva rebellion and
Rabbi Akiva’s execution by the Romans, the Rashbi took this script with him to
a cave in the Galilee, where he hid for thirteen years. During this period, he
had ample time to develop the ideas he found in the
‘Jesus Scroll’
,
which might have included the text of
‘Sefer Yetzira’
as well, into what
would become an early version of the
Book of Zohar
. This must be the
reason why the Rashbi himself is depicted in the Zohar with descriptive attributes,
which are very much like Jesus Christ.”

“What?” Luria was surprised. “I
s
this
another hypothesis of yours?”

“No,” said Orlev. “This has been demonstrated by a number of
distinguished scholars. The Rashbi is described in the Zohar as a righteous
man, around which the whole world revolves, and is referred to in a number of
places there as the ‘Son of God’. There is a hymn still sung today by Hassidim
in honor of the Rashbi, which goes: ‘Bar Yochai, you have been anointed, be
blessed’; ‘Christ’ means ‘the anointed one’.”

Luria and Jeanne kept silent and the professor pressed on. “The
principle of
‘Love thy neighbor’
was highlighted by Hillel the Elder, a
Jewish scholar who passed away when Jesus was a boy. Jesus adopted this
principle and made it a pillar of his teachings. He developed this theme even
further, to give it its Kabbalistic meaning. Don’t you see how all this fits
perfectly?”

Orlev closed his eyes a
few seconds.

“And now for the second
thread of our hypothetical plot, the story of the
‘Judas Scroll’
. Let us
take a leap of 1,000 years in time, to when nine anonymous knights under Hugues
de Payens, receive the blessing of Baldwin II, King of Jerusalem, and are given
the Al-Aqsa Mosque on the Temple Mount as their headquarters. The nine Templar
founders, very curious about the historical place, start some diggings and
stumble upon an incredible document.”

“The
‘Judas Scroll’
?”
ventured Luria.

“Exactly; they somehow
decipher it and realize that they are in possession of a document which turns
the whole Christian narrative upside down.
Hugues de
Payens immediately travels to Rome to share this revelation with the Holy
Throne.”

The professor gestured
with his hand for emphasis. “The result of this meeting is dramatic. Within a
few years, the Templars are transformed by writ of the Pope, from a group of a
few eccentric knights, into an economic and military empire, the most powerful
organization in the Christian world, with ex-territorial status. Hugues de
Payens must have put the cards he had been dealt to good use.”

“And the scroll?” Luria
was becoming really interested.

“De Payens must have
been an excellent card player. In the arrangement with the Pope, he kept the
scroll in his hands to guarantee that the Pope would not have a sudden change
of heart. This document was then passed over the years from one Templar Grand
Master to the next, as an insurance policy. In my narrative, the
‘Judas
Scroll’
is the much talked about Templar secret.”

“And what do you reckon
happened to this scroll?” inquired Luria.

“In 1291, Guillaume de
Beaujeu, the Templar Grand Master, was killed in Acre, which fell to the
Muslims. I believe he was the last Grand Master to have the scroll in his
possession. From then on, the status of the Templar Order rapidly deteriorated
and within fifteen years, they were wiped out completely.”

“And you claim that the
demise of the Templars was due to the loss of the scroll?” asked Jeanne.

“The prime reason for the
tragic end of the Templars was, of course, the fall of the Kingdom of
Jerusalem,” said Orlev. “They lost a great deal of their
‘raison d’etre’
.
However, I believe Philippe the fair found it much easier to convince the Pope
to undermine the Templars, once the Templars’ insurance policy had expired.”

He thought a moment.
“Now back to the
‘Jesus Scroll’
. It remained in the vicinity of the
Galilee. I cannot be sure of what exactly happened to it during the eleven
centuries which had passed since the Rashbi, but I believe it somehow found its
way into the hands of the Ramban, the head of the Acre Yeshiva, together with
the Rashbi’s own records. The Ramban was a renowned Jewish scholar, who moved
in 1267 from his native Catalonia to Acre.”

“How can you be sure of
that?” wondered Luria.

The professor held up
his hand. “I can’t, but it fits in perfectly and makes a lot of sense. So, the
Ramban actually had at least
two
documents in his possession. One was
the original early version of the
Book of Zohar
by Bar Yochai - let’s
call it the
‘Rashbi Script’
. The other was its inspiration - the
‘Jesus
Scroll’
.”

Luria took a while to digest
all this. “OK,” He finally said, “let’s suppose all this did happen, what
next?”

“The Ramban sent the
‘Rashbi
Script’
to the Ramdal, an important Jewish-Spanish scholar, whom he had
known from a previous chapter of his life. Based on this script, the Ramdal wrote
the
Book of Zohar
as we know it today.”

“And the
‘Jesus
Scroll’
?” wondered Luria.

“I believe it remained
in Acre’s Yeshiva.”

“So how did the two
scrolls, held by two totally unrelated organizations, end up together in 1799’s
Safed?”

The professor looked a
bit embarrassed. “I don't have a good answer to that,” he admitted. “But
remember that Guillaume de Beaujeu, whom I believe was the last Templar Grand
Master to own the
‘Judas Scroll’
, died in Acre in 1291. I guess that
during the chaos that followed the fall of Acre, the two scrolls somehow ended
up together, but I admit this is still a weak link in my narrative... Anyway, we
now know from de Charney’s letters, that somehow the two scrolls ended up in
Safed. I believe that the scrolls had resided there for a few centuries before
they were picked up by de Charney, and that the Holy Ari had studied them as
well.” He sipped the rest of the cold tea in his glass. “And from here, thanks
to your investigations, we know the rest of the story: Rivka Bakri-Luria,
Pascal de Charney, the Carmelites and Father Fernando Diaz.”

“I must ask you
something, Professor,” said Luria. “Can I be frank?”

Orlev frowned. “Sure,
what is it?”

“Well…” Luria felt he
was stepping into a mine field. “If you believe Jesus was the first Kabbalist…
and Professor Bennet claimed that Kabbalah was heavily influenced by
Christianity, then… then what was your dispute all about?”

Jeanne raised her head
and looked at Luria in surprise. The professor’s face turned ashen and Luria
already started to regret his tactlessness. Yet, he was genuinely puzzled by this
vehement feud between the two lifelong friends over what now seemed a
triviality.

“You don’t see it, do
you?” Orlev’s voice was strange. “I thought you would by now. He looked at Jeanne.
“How about you, my dear? Do you understand this?”

Jeanne shook her head.
“I hardly understand anything anymore,” she said weakly.

The professor looked
back at Luria. “Both Jonathan and I agreed about the link between Jesus and
Kabbalah. The basic dispute between us was over our different perceptions of
Jesus. He identified Jesus with Christianity and thus claimed that Kabbalah is
a Christian creation, while I claimed… I still do… that Jesus was a Jew, and
Christianity was a later invention thought up by Paul. And Paul’s Christianity
had
nothing
to do with Kabbalah!” he was becoming agitated. “Is this so
hard to understand?”

“OK. OK.” Luria tried
to calm the old man down. “I think I see your point now.”

Unpleasant silence fell
upon the room. “Can I ask one more question?” ventured Luria.

“What is it?” the
professor was still visibly annoyed.

“Why were the scrolls
kept at Stella Maris? Why didn’t the Vatican keep them in Rome, under tight
security and in more appropriate conditions?”

“Well,” said the professor,
calmer now, “they may have preferred keeping them in a distant place where no
one would suspect. And, of course, the Carmelites might have insisted on holding
on to this relic, which they obtained in 1799, just like the Templars had done
in their time. The Vatican may have settled for copies.”

Luria was still
pushing. “Now, the part Bennet played in this story remains a mystery to me. We
believe his murderer broke into his safe and took something from there. Can we assume
that what he took were indeed the scrolls?”

The professor’s face
was solemn. “It all blends in neatly. The open safe in Jonathan’s bedroom,
things he told me, that in retrospect can be explained by his having access to
such material… and there is also a clue I was shown by the police. They wanted
my professional opinion.”

“What clue?”

“They told me I was not
at liberty to discuss that. Try your police sources.”

“OK,” said Luria, “let
us suppose that Bennet had the scrolls. How do you reckon they came to be in
his possession in the first place?”

The pain on Orlev’s face
was evident. “I don’t know,” he said. “And I don’t even want to think about it.
This whole subject is an open sore for me; something I fear will never heal for
as long as I live.”

42.
           
 Lorenzo
Molinari – Ben-Gurion Airport,
February 23
rd
, 2010 (Tuesday)

T
he young policewoman at
the Border Control booth in Ben-Gurion Airport stared at the picture in the
passport and then examined the face of the tall man on the other side of the
glass. He was fortyish with close cropped black hair and a pair of blue eyes.
She thought he looked like a movie star. “Lorenzo Molinari?”

The man smiled at her.
There was something strange in his smile since the look in his eyes somehow
remained harsh. “This is my name,” he said in English with a pronounced Italian
accent.

She scanned the
passport number into the computer terminal and waited a few seconds. Everything
was OK. She stamped the passport and handed it back to him. “I hope you have
enjoyed your stay in Israel,” she said.

“I have enjoyed it
immensely,” said the man. “You have a beautiful country.” He smiled at her
again and moved away, his hand unconsciously stroking the inner pocket of his
well-cut jacket, making sure the papers were there. He felt a tinge of
excitement, a mix of relief and disappointment. He knew he had not completed his
mission. He had a lead, he knew what should be done next, yet he could not
stay. He has become too hot and was lucky not to be stopped at the airport.
Someone else will have to finish the job.

*    *    *

Two weeks before, he began
his mission by tailing the Frenchwoman and the Israeli detective, who had
started all this commotion. He quickly realized that these two were still
looking for a lead and decided to stay a step behind them and see what they would
come up with.

He followed them to the
meeting with Professor Orlev and immediately figured out their reasoning. They
were going after Father Diaz’s academic peers. He took it from there. Using his
resources, he made his own research, and soon focused on Orlev and Bennet. The
minute he saw the big and athletic Bennet, he had his insight. Here was a man
who could have easily killed the burglar from Haifa with his bare hands. He zeroed
in on Bennet and started watching him closely.

It quickly paid off. He
was now holding on to the envelope he had recovered from the dead professor. He
had already reviewed its contents; it contained a few photocopied pages written
in what looked like an old Hebrew script. This was promising, but these were
not the originals. He found Bennet’s safe in the bedroom and broke into it, but
discovered nothing of interest. He took from there only a document which looked
like a will, hoping to find some clues there. His work had yet to be completed,
but now he had to leave in a hurry.

*    *    *

He was there that very
morning, when the old professor and his weird son, a strange, overgrown child,
came to visit Bennet. The giant child just sat in a chair and looked totally
detached, while the professors engaged in a lively discussion. Lorenzo had by
now found out about the animosity between these two and understood that this
meeting was unusual. He found himself a spot in a deserted garden of an
adjacent house, where he could watch Bennet’s living room. The window was open
and he could see the three of them, although he could not hear what they were
saying. At the start of the meeting, the two men looked embarrassed but soon
the atmosphere in the room warmed up. The two had a long conversation and at
some point embraced. They were making their peace.

Then, suddenly, the
neighbor from the adjacent house entered his back yard to hang some wet laundry
and Lorenzo had to slip for cover. By the time he regained his position, the
atmosphere in the room had changed dramatically.

Bennet now had a brown
envelope in his left hand. In his right he was holding two sheets of paper,
which Lorenzo assumed he had pulled out of the envelope. He was very upset and
angry, waving the papers at Orlev and shouting in agitation. The old professor lost
his calm, too, and the two rose and faced each other, the elderly man barely
reaching the other’s shoulder. For a while, they just stood there, yelling at
each other hysterically. Then, suddenly, the little professor stepped forward
and started slapping Bennet’s face. It looked quite comical - the diminutive professor
was standing on his toes in order to slap the oversized professor. Bennet was
not especially threatened, but he soon got tired of this farce. He caught Orlev
with both hands and gripped him tightly, to prevent the old man from pestering
him.

And then something
totally unexpected happened.

The weird child, who
until that moment seemed totally detached, jumped to his feet and charged at
Bennet like a bull, releasing his father from Bennet’s clutch and shoving
Bennet forcefully, trying to get him as far from his father as he could. Bennet
was caught unawares. The push sent him stumbling back. He struggled to stay on
his feet but hit a chair, lost his balance and fell back, his head violently
hitting the table.

A few meters away,
Lorenzo could hear the sound of the blow. Bennet rolled onto the carpet and lay
there motionless.

The huge child started
screaming hysterically.

For a moment, Orlev
just stood there, stunned, holding his head with both hands, and Lorenzo
thought he was going to collapse. But the shrieks of his son brought him back
to reality. The child started running wild in the room, howling and wailing.
Orlev approached him and tried to soothe the wild creature. Eventually, he hugged
him, walked him outside to his car and drove away.

Lorenzo scanned the
area. Bennet was lying on the carpet, with the corner of the brown envelope
protruding from under his motionless body. There was no time to lose, and
Lorenzo did not hesitate. The door through which the professor and his son had
just left was not locked and Lorenzo opened it and walked into the room where
Bennet was lying, face down, on the carpet. He extended his hand and tried to
pull out the envelope from under the body. He could not. With some effort, he
rolled the body on its back. He could see that the lifeless Bennet was still
clutching two creased pages in his firmly closed right hand, and he saw the
envelope lying on the carpet for him to pick up. He bent over the body and
extended his hand to retrieve the envelope.

And then Bennet’s eyes opened.

His left hand groped
around and then forcefully clutched Lorenzo's right.

Lorenzo was a seasoned
professional, but the adrenaline rush almost took his breath away. He jumped
back in alarm, and his left hand instinctively reached under his jacket for his
gun.

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