Fifth Gospel(6)

Philosophy! A love of wisdom! I was pricked in my heart! This word recalled to mind my promise and I sat forward with attention. ‘So, when you say it is not an ordinary book…what do you mean?’

‘It is a book…and no book at all. It is invisible…and yet it is visible to any man, for it is everywhere and nowhere at once. It lives in the very skies, in the cloud libraries of God, but it also lives in the memory of the heart. The question is, do you want to see it, pairé?’

What strange riddle was this? A sudden terrifying thought assailed me. Perhaps she was a sphinx? Would she kill me if I gave her the wrong answer? No, soon I would wake up, I told myself, with my mouth dry and my back aching, for I had fallen asleep thinking again of that infinite library and that book which encompassed all the knowledge of the world.

Having read in some place (who knows where?) that one must ask an apparition its name, if one wishes to dissolve it, I did so.

‘Who I am,’ she said, ‘is of as little importance to what I will tell as the wind is to the perfumes that it carries. But you can call me Lea.’

What a singular dream creature was this that sat before me, with her face so poignant and wise, her voice so perfect, her mien so calm, and her answers so infuriating!

Realising that the stubborn spirit would not be put off, I acquiesced. ‘Well then, Lea…why would the wind choose to carry its scent to me this night, in this of all places, with war all about?’

‘You have willed it so…for you have called me here, pairé.’

I was confounded. ‘How on earth, my dear, did I call you?’

‘You are awake while others are sleeping.’

Perhaps I was awake in my dream but surely not in real life! I resolved that there was nothing more I could do except to go along with the dream and see where it would lead until I finally woke up.

‘What does the book show?’ I asked.

‘Many things, things that are in the past and those that are also in the future...but the part which I will show you, could be called a Gospel…’

A Gospel no less!

‘Why do we need another Gospel, child, when there are so many? Poor Eusebius was driven mad trying to decide which ones to include in the bible!’ I peered at her. ‘Do you know he nearly didn’t add John’s Gospel…the only eyewitness of the sacrifice of our Lord? The truth is, after he had made his choice of gospels he spent the rest of his life trying to reconcile their differences! No, my dear, we don’t need more gospels only more faith!’

‘But what are differences?’ the apparition said, serenely. ‘The back of your head is different from the front, and yet both back and front belong to you and are needed…is this not true?’

I had to agree that she had a point!

Weary and outwitted, I conceded. ‘Well then child, if the Gospels of Luke and Matthew tell us about Jesus, and the Gospels of Mark and John tell us about Christ…what is there left to tell?’

‘Have you forgotten John’s words: that if all that could be said about the Lord were to be written down, even the world itself could not contain all the books that would be written.’

I nodded for this was so, and yet my poor old head was confounded by so many allusions to libraries and books and gospels, that all I could say was, ‘Go on…go on…’ and wave a hand.

‘It begins with two children, not one.’

‘What? What do you mean two children?’

‘The Gospel begins with the kingly child, the other is a priestly one, each is born at a different time but the kingly child is the reason why the centurion is sat upon his horse.’

‘A centurion…a Roman centurion?’ I said.

‘He rides into Bethlehem to kill the child…’

‘Oh, I see! On behalf of Herod.’

‘Yes.’

‘You are speaking of Jesus, then.’

‘Not Jesus…’

I started. ‘What do you mean not Jesus?’

‘This child’s name is Yeshua…’

‘Oh my!’ I felt my eyes popping, ‘I am confounded in my mind already!’

‘Then listen with your heart, pairé, and take up your quill and write it down, for I will speak…are you listening with your heart?’

I took up my quill and dipped it in ink and took up those parchments and said, ‘Yes, yes, my dear, go on.’


And that is how it began.

Before I knew it I was lost in a rosary of words. Words that followed one another, each dying away into the next; melting in her mouth like that green honey, which they say induces visions.





2


MASSACRE




Into Bethlehem, there entered with a clattering of hoofs and a thunder of dust a company of legionaries headed by a Roman Centurion.