Play for time. I’ve got to stall him somehow … Wasn’t there supposed to be a permanent guard here?
‘But how …’
‘… did I get inside?’ Tony said, finishing Peter’s question. ‘Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. The law of the desert, Peter. That’s why the Bedouins saved you. If a weary traveller appears at your door, you must always invite them in. The trickiest part was finding a monk’s habit in my size. I saw you, you know, sitting in the refectory. The monks lead such a beautiful life.’
Tony appeared to be thoroughly enjoying this game of cat and mouse.
‘It’s a pilgrimage,’ he said placidly. ‘Nothing more, nothing less. In the end, we’re all Pilgrims. As the words on the plaque on the Pieterskerk so eloquently put it, “But now we are all, in all places, strangers and pilgrims, travellers and sojourners.” Passers-by, that’s what we are. And on our pilgrimage, we go searching for who we really are. We travel into the unknown, and we all end up where we are right now, in the wilderness.’
He held his arms out wide, emphasising his words.
‘A no man’s land,’ he went on. ‘Hic sunt leones. Here be lions! Dangers lurk around every corner, waiting for a moment of weakness so they can lead us from the straight and narrow road, away from the path of righteousness. On our pilgrimage, we try to remember who we actually are.’
Tony was pacing now, like an animal. The more he spoke, the less he seemed to be aware of the world around him, like a professor so deeply absorbed in his lecture that he forgets that he’s standing in front of a room full of students. Even his language took on a more formal tone.
‘We’re confronted by our own selves,’ he continued, ‘but also by the realisation that another reality exists: that of the soul. Our existing values disappear and are replaced by new values, spiritual values, and these values are not temporal but eternal. It’s a voyage of discovery, if you will, a voyage on which we become aware of a Higher Power, an eternal being who has had many names. Every age, every people, every religion has called it by a different name. This Power is a god of forgiveness and second chances, like the Father in the parable of the Lost Son. Like someone who doesn’t strike back when they’re struck, but instead turns the other cheek and gives the offender another chance, a chance not to strike again. This Power is a god of mercy and of love. He wants us to do the right thing, just as a mortal father wants to see his children do the right thing. He longs for His children to return home, simply because that is where they belong.’
If Tony really believes all of that, then maybe I can get out of this. This is very different from the way he was talking last time.
‘But this is fantastic news, Tony! This is wonderful, isn’t it?’ Peter said enthusiastically. His excitement was genuine. ‘Together with what I learned from the monk – and he only told me a few small details – this is an amazing message. It should be shared with the whole world. Why keep it hidden? Why not reveal it so that everyone can benefit from it? If you can give people definitive proof that the whole Bible is a collection of allegorical stories, that there’s barely a trace of historical truth in it and they don’t have to interpret it literally any more, then doesn’t that create room for everyone to understand it in a way that’s more personally meaningful to them? Then—’
‘Listen,’ Tony interrupted him sharply. ‘This knowledge will mean nothing to people if they aren’t ready for it. It would be like reading a book to a baby. It’ll hear noises, and it’ll coo and smile, maybe fall asleep, perhaps be delighted by the sound of your voice, but it won’t understand a word. It would be like giving your first-year students a lecture from the last year of their course. Pointless. And besides, this knowledge is already available in other forms and in other traditions for anyone who goes looking for it.’
‘So why not share the knowledge with others?’
‘I just told you. It would be pointless. Pearls before swine. But there’s a much bigger problem than that. Don’t you see the dilemma here? The real dilemma?’
Peter looked at him with incomprehension.
I’m not getting out of this just yet, then.
‘It’s so obvious, Peter. Look, the stories were never meant to be taken literally. Everyone used to know that, but that knowledge was lost. For most people, anyway. But then everyone knew that there was something else hidden in the stories, wisdom that wasn’t supposed to be given to everyone. When Jesus told the parable of the sower, he said to his disciples: “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of God; but to others I speak in parables, so that looking they may not perceive and listening they may not understand.” What good would it have done those people who came to Jesus, the simple farmers, the labourers, the tax collectors, the prostitutes and lepers, if he had explained those hidden meanings to them? It would have gone in one ear and out the other! Simple people need simple stories. You can tell a child a hundred times to stay on the right path, watch out for the bad guys, and above all, to do as their mother tells them. They’ll listen, but the message won’t really sink in. But tell them the story of Little Red Riding Hood over and over and the message sticks. Do you see?’
‘I see what you mean, Tony. I really do. You have a point, but …’
Keep him talking, tell him he’s right, agree with him … And what he’s saying does make sense. But that doesn’t mean that he gets to decide who should be given this knowledge and who shouldn’t.
‘This is why people tell each other stories. This is why we wrap messages up inside stories. It’s so that people can understand them on their own level and in their own time. We know that the Exodus story is actually about the journey inwards. That’s the irony of all this: the story about leaving is really a story about coming home!’
‘So what’s the dilemma?’
‘If the Exodus story is a true historical account, at least in terms of our general understanding of history, then how can the Bible still be considered to set the moral standards for western civilisation? The Bible is the cornerstone of all of western civilisation. It’s been used to legitimise the conquest of worlds, the subjugation of peoples – so that we could trade with them, obviously, or take their resources. But it was so that we could civilise them too, and bring them the gospel. Love, forgiveness, a return to God, whatever. But then when you really read the Bible, particularly the story of the Exodus, the story of the conquest of the promised land … With God’s blessing and help, the Israelites murdered hundreds of thousands of people, six hundred thousand, maybe even more. Then another ten thousand were thrown off of a cliff by King Amaziah who “did what was right in the sight of the Lord”. Men, women, children, cattle … They slaughtered everything and everyone to cleanse the land. It was actual genocide. If the stories in the Old Testament are historical truth, then how can we, even for a single second, entertain the idea that the Bible sets the moral standards for our civilisation?’
These are the stories Coen Zoutman wrote down. This is why he had them with him!
‘Those people weren’t even given a chance to leave,’ Tony continued. ‘They weren’t even allowed to exist. They had to be wiped out, exterminated as if they were an infestation. And why? What act of sin had been committed by these people, people who had, after all, also been created by God? They lived in the promised land! That was their crime! Their religion was destroyed, their culture destroyed, their villages and towns burned to the ground and obliterated, their temples and idols burned. Their virgin daughters were taken from them as the spoils of war and divided among Joshua’s brave warriors for God. Good God, how was that any different from the atrocities committed by the Islamic State fighters today? The barbarity and intolerance … how were they any different from ISIS, who blew up the ancient Buddhas of Bamiyan statues, destroyed churches? Who will slaughter anyone who doesn’t share their one true path, their one true faith? Who even kill other Muslims if they refuse to join their ranks? Who massac
re Yazidi men and take their wives and daughters as their own personal property to be used as sex slaves? Who burn people alive, decapitate them, throw them off of towers? Who will not be satisfied until their caliphate is cleansed of everything that’s been forbidden by their god? A god who is on their side alone, a god who rejoices every single time one of His fighters blows himself up and sends an unbeliever to hell? How is that any different?’
Maybe he’s not as crazy as I thought …
Peter was lost for words. ‘But …’ he eventually managed to say. ‘But then surely you must let the world know that you have solid, conclusive proof that the story of the Exodus was never intended to be read as history. That it’s a parable with a deeper meaning that can only be understood by those who’ve been initiated.’
‘That’s not possible! If this is brought out into the open, everything falls apart. And it will only get worse. I doubt that most people even care about this anyway. There are plenty of believers who won’t care much, and the non-believers won’t care at all. No, most people already understand that it obviously wasn’t possible to fit every single animal in the world on Noah’s ark. How could there have been koalas in the Middle East when they depend on the leaves of the Australian eucalyptus tree for food? How would they have survived? There are more than ten million species of insect alone, and each one lives in a specific habitat like a plant or a tree, often in symbiosis with another animal. And then what about the flood waters rising until they covered every mountaintop? Mount Everest is nearly ten kilometres high. Any living thing that didn’t freeze to death at that altitude would have died from lack of oxygen … Not to mention where all the water went after the flood. And it doesn’t stop there: if the story of Adam and Eve isn’t true, then there was no fall, no original sin, no separation between God and man. So Jesus’ death, the sacrifice that reconciled man and God, wouldn’t have been necessary. Do you understand what that means? What the consequences are?’
Tony was as breathless as someone who had just run a hundred-metre dash.
‘If we take the Bible literally,’ he said, ‘it loses its moral authority. Because its stories are full of hate, intolerance, murder and rape, all authorised by God because the victims weren’t Jewish. But if people are told that we don’t need to take those stories literally, what will happen then? Well, just to name one thing, the State of Israel’s legitimacy vanishes. There would be no story, no book that people could invoke and say: this land is ours because it was promised to us by God! And if the State of Israel falls apart, then everything falls apart. It’s been said for years that Israel is a role model for the rest of the Middle East, the only democracy, the only country where peace and security reign. America’s foreign policy, the west’s foreign policy, the unconditional support given to Israel, the tens of thousands of young people who’ve worked on the kibbutzim helping to develop the land, the United Nations Blue Helmets who were supposed to protect the young state from Arab aggression. Imagine what will happen if people knew that all of those things were based on a lie, a myth! That will only add grist to the mill of the anti-Semites. The State of Israel’s right to exist would vanish, and so would the divine promise that Jews still invoke to defend it. If Exodus is a fable … Jesus himself believed in it, spoke about it often … Must we then say that even Jesus, the Son of God, was wrong? That even he didn’t know that none of it really happened?’
That’s what I was thinking yesterday!
‘What becomes of Jesus’ omniscience then?’ Tony said. ‘His omnipotence? His divinity? Don’t you see? Nothing, absolutely nothing in the world will be stable after that. And it won’t just be unstable; it will topple and eventually all collapse … Imagine the chaos, Peter, if this is revealed. Don’t you see? Judaism, Christianity, Islam … they’re all based on these stories. So many conflicts are based on religion. Or rather, religious justifications are often given by those who wage wars over land and resources. People will always find something they can use to divide the world into “us” and “them”. Where everyone is a Christian, it’s Catholics against Protestants. And where everyone is a Catholic, it’s the people who speak Dutch against the people who speak French … But religion brings people together too, gives millions of people a sense of purpose and meaning in their lives. Religion encourages people to try to be good, to try to do good. Imagine a world without these three Abrahamic religions. Imagine what would happen if they collapsed. It would be the end of the world as we know it.’
‘I do understand what you’re saying,’ Peter said carefully, ‘but—’
‘For pity’s sake, let’s just leave things as they are, Peter. The world can’t cope with the truth. People can’t cope with the truth. Especially not right now … There’s going to be a huge focus on the Pilgrims soon.’
Of course. I was wondering when he’d get to them …
‘That story will fall apart too. The Pilgrims came to a new land, too, God’s own country. They were convinced that their venture was blessed by God. They compared themselves to the Israelites, and their leaders said to James I, “Let my people go.” And when he refused, just like the Israelites, they had to flee. They had to emigrate too, leave behind the fleshpots of England and Holland and cross a sea to reach their promised land with their Bibles in their hands. That land was inhabited already, but they cleared it so that it would be fit for their way of life. If the Book of Exodus isn’t historical fact, then the legitimacy of the Pilgrims’ whole endeavour crumbles, and so do the very foundations of the United States of America … But enough of that.’
Tony looked at him blankly, and the hollow look in his eyes was more terrifying than when they had burned with hate.
I have to get away from here. Give him what he wants. I can’t win … He won’t let anything stand in his way.
‘Here,’ Peter said, and he opened the rucksack. He kept his eyes fixed on Tony. ‘You’re right, Tony. You’ve convinced me. There aren’t many people who could cope with knowing this. It should stay between you and me. Here.’ He grabbed the pages that Brother Milan had given him. ‘I’ve not been completely honest with you,’ he said. ‘Brother Milan did give me these. But you’ve convinced me, Tony, you really have. These are Coen’s papers, the texts he wrote down. You can do whatever you want with them. You’ve got more right to them than anyone else. This knowledge was entrusted to you, so it should be left in your hands.’
Peter took a step towards Tony, but he carried on staring at him expressionlessly.
Surely he’ll be happy now that he’s got the manuscript.
But Tony didn’t seem to be interested in Coen’s manuscript at all.
‘Well, here’s the thing, Peter,’ Tony said, picking up one of the abandoned walking sticks that were lying in front of the guardhouse. He moved towards Peter, adjusting his grip on the stick like a baseball hitter getting ready for a pitch.
‘The only people left who know about this are me and you,’ Tony said menacingly. ‘The living books are gone. There’s nothing left to prove that this knowledge exists. And there’s nobody else who could bring about the end of the world as we know it. So …’
Completely unexpectedly and with a speed that Peter didn’t see coming, Tony had swung the stick back, ready to strike. Peter instinctively raised his arm to ward off the blow, but the stick smashed into his left wrist. He heard a dry crack as the bone broke. A burst of searing pain surged through his body as if his nerves had been electrified.
He heard his own shriek of agony echo in the mountains.
His right hand flew to his wrist in a vain attempt to soothe the pain, but that left him unprotected against the next blow that landed heavily on his skull.
Peter felt blood from the wound stream over his forehead. A moment later, he realised that he could see nothing out of one eye. He tasted metal on his tongue.
‘Stop!’ he screamed desperately, falling to his knees. His instinct told him that this was the wrong thing to do because it would make him more vulnerable. B
ut he was in too much pain to do anything else.
Still gripping the stick, Tony bent to pick up the papers that were now scattered on the ground. He shook the rucksack upside down until it was empty.
‘Were you planning to stay up here for a while?’ he said snidely when he saw the bread, the fruit and the bottles of water. He stood up again and read the first lines of the text that Coen had written down. ‘De “Eisodus”? But that’s …’
Tony laughed maniacally.
‘Is this it? This is all there is?’ He scanned the pages. ‘This is Dutch, right? Genius. Sam only taught me “Genesis”, and I only learned the sounds at first. You don’t know what it means, so the words go past your mind and straight to your heart without you translating them. It’s only later that their meaning is explained to you. It’s about man’s lifelong search for the garden he was cast out of. But that story is really nothing more than the primal experience of every human being: at first, you’re one with your mother, safely cradled in her womb, but then you’re banished.’
Tony didn’t even bother to look at the other pages properly.
‘Our whole life is really a search for that same sense of security, for the feeling of oneness that we’ve lost. The womb is the real Garden of Eden. In the end, we’re all refugees. We humans have been pilgrims from the very beginning, all searching for our true home. All the way back to Adam and Eve, who were banished from Eden, sent away because they disobeyed God. And mankind has been on a journey ever since, looking for the lost garden, trying to find our way back to the lost paradise where we actually belong.’
And we’ve gotta get ourselves back to the garden …
‘Mary, Joseph and Jesus were refugees, of course,’ Tony said, more quietly now, as if the thought had only just occurred to him. ‘They stole away from Bethlehem like thieves in the night to escape the Massacre of the Innocents. They found asylum in Egypt, and they could only go back to Bethlehem when Herod was dead.’
The Pilgrim Conspiracy Page 48
