The Testimonium

by Lewis Ben Smith

  “Professor, I demand that this document be removed from the hands of this team immediately and subjected to rigorous carbon datings. I warned you what would come of letting these cultists be involved with a serious archeological dig!” she snapped.

  “ENOUGH!” roared Joshua. The whole room fell silent, and every eye fixed on the lanky young American. His face was flushed, but his dander was up and he would not back down. “I have kept my silence before this board up till now, since I am both a foreigner and the youngest person here. But I will NOT sit here and listen to my integrity and that of my colleagues be any further impugned! Doctor Tintoretto, you have let your hatred for the Church rob you of all scientific objectivity. You have closed your ears to every version of reality that does not conform to your irrational prejudice.”

  Tintoretto’s eyes bulged with fury, and she hissed, “Listen here, you jumped-up American cowboy—”

  “NO!” Josh interrupted. “I have sat and listened to your bile since before we left Capri, and kept my mouth shut. It is my turn to speak out now, and I will have my say! Surely you know that the four Biblical Gospels were all composed in the first century AD. That puts them, at a bare minimum, within seventy years of the events they report. If you are up on the latest research, you also know that the first three Gospels are almost universally dated thirty to forty years earlier, in the decade of the sixties. That means that they were written barely thirty years after the trial of Jesus. And all of them agree that something remarkable happened, that the tomb of Jesus was empty on the third day. Any historian worth his salt will tell you that the earlier the source, the more reliable it is—and that if several early sources all agree on a central narrative, it is probably because that narrative is true. Well, lo and behold, all the Gospels do agree! And now we find a document that predates them by thirty years, and guess what? It confirms them! Remember the old adage from Arthur Conan Doyle? ‘When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.’ It may not confirm to your beliefs—your prejudices, to be perfectly honest—but you need to reconcile yourself to the fact that it appears the Gospels were right and you were wrong!”

  “I will not be spoken to like this by an evangelical cultist!” snapped Tintoretto, leaping to her feet and fleeing the room. Josh sank back down into his seat, his face still red, as every eye at the table followed her exit, then turned to him. Dr. Castolfo waited until the clicking of Tintoretto’s heels faded into the distance, then stood and began softly applauding. One by one, the other board members joined him, and Josh flushed an even deeper red.

  “I have been waiting for years for someone to put that rather unpleasant woman in her place,” the board president said. “And it turns out the only one with the courage to do so was our plucky young American friend!”

  “Good grief,” said Josh. “I figured you would be asking me to leave the country after that!”

  “Tintorreto is a sad and angry person,” said Cardinal Raphael. “I feel a great deal of compassion for her, but I would be lying if I said she makes the Biblical injunction to love one’s enemies easy. Now, however, I feel we should return to the matter at hand.”

  “Indeed,” said Castolfo. “I am going to suggest that we ask Cardinal Klein to come from Rome immediately, and Joshua, I will ask you to call Dr. Martens and issue our invitation. His wife will be welcome to accompany him, since he still needs help moving about. The museum will, of course, cover all expenses. Bernardo, perhaps you can call Dr. Henderson at the Smithsonian also?”

  Sinisi spoke up at this point. “We need to let the public know!” he said. “I think we should call a press conference before the week is out and share the translation with the press!”

  Castolfo sighed, and looked at Isabella. “Dr. Sforza, what do you think?”

  Isabella thought a moment. “It goes against my grain to agree with the board’s resident publicity hound,” she finally said. “But I think Vincent is right. The whole world is waiting, and the longer we wait the more the skeptics will say that we doctored the evidence. Put it out there now, let the world see the scroll, and let the examinations begin!”

  Castolfo looked up and down the table. “Shall we take a vote?” he asked the members. They nodded, one by one, and he called for a show of hands. The vote was eight to one, with Dr. Castellani objecting and Tintoretto marked as abstaining.

  “Very well then,” he said. “We will hold a press conference Friday morning. I will ask the team to begin preparing their remarks, and now I must go after Maria and see if I can calm her down a bit. Again, I would like to thank the members of the Capri team for some truly exemplary work. Well done! Meeting adjourned.”

  ITALIAN AUTHORITIES TO ANNOUNCE TRANSLATION OF PONTIUS PILATE SCROLL FRIDAY

  (UP) The Italian Bureau of Antiquities has announced that the scroll by found on the island of Capri, allegedly written by Roman governor Pontius Pilate some two thousand years ago, has been translated by a team of Latin scholars. Other experts are being flown in to Naples to verify the translation, and the contents of the ancient letter will be shared with the public in a press conference this Friday at 11 AM.

  The Publicity Director of the Antiquities Bureau, Dr. Vincent Sinisi, has confirmed that the scroll does, in fact, deal with the trial and execution of Jesus of Nazareth. “I don’t want to give anything away,” he commented, “but this is going to give historians, theologians, and reporters enough material to debate for a long, long time!”

  The scroll was discovered in a chamber that was revealed on Easter Sunday, when an earthquake struck the Italian coastline and damaged the wall that had concealed the chamber since the time of the Roman Emperor Tiberius Caesar. A team of archeologists was convened on site and removed the artifacts from the chamber to the National Museum in Naples, where they have been analyzing the relics ever since. Experts have all agreed that the other documents from the chamber are authentic and date from the first century AD.

  In what may be a related note, Dr. Maria Tintoretto has announced her resignation from the Antiquities Bureau effective today. She has called a press conference Friday afternoon at three to explain the reasons for her abrupt departure. Sources close to the museum say that the noted skeptic is upset with the release of the scroll’s contents to the public in such a hasty manner.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Ali bin-Hassan read the article a second time, sipping his morning coffee as he did so. The drink was as black and bitter as the hatred that he nourished in his heart, the hatred that sustained him in his ongoing jihad against the cursed infidel. So they had opened and translated the scroll so soon? That meant he was running out of time. It was Wednesday, and the press conference was scheduled in two days’ time. The “package” would be delivered to Naples tomorrow, and he resolved that the infidel scientists would never have a chance to read the ancient scroll to the press. He had toyed with the idea of waiting to see what the scroll said before destroying it and the infidels who had discovered it. After all, if it debunked the false claims of the Christian injil, it could be a useful propaganda tool for the cause of Allah’s champions. But, after further reflection, he had decided it was not worth the risk. If the document confirmed the heresies of the Christians, the damage would be impossible to undo, even if the scroll and the archeologists were obliterated by his attack. It would have to be Friday morning, early in the day, before they removed the scroll to the press briefing room.

  That meant that he would need to prepare his statement as well. Once he decided that an explosive attack was the best way to deal with this problem, he realized that he would need to explain his actions to the world. He had a sophisticated laptop and a nice digital video camera, and he was almost done preparing his remarks. Once they were completed to his satisfaction, he would film himself delivering them, and upload the video to his laptop. A remote command from his cell phone would email the video to all the major wire services whenever he chose; all he had to do was text the co
mmand to his PC. It would be the last thing he did before detonating the package and sending himself to Paradise. As he got up from the table and tidied away his breakfast dishes, he practiced his introduction out loud.

  “In the name of Allah, the Just, the Merciful, and in the name of His holy prophet . . .”

  * * *

  “All expenses paid?” Dr. Martens said. “That is wonderful! I have been meaning to take Alicia abroad since we married, but this blasted injury has kept me from it—and Naples is gorgeous this time of year! I am on crutches now and getting stronger every day. The flight will be a bit of an ordeal, but nothing I can’t handle. I appreciate your arranging this for me!”

  Josh laughed. “I had nothing to do with it,” he said. “Yours was the first name Dr. Guioccini suggested to the board when we began discussing bringing in outside experts.”

  “So are you going to tell me what the scroll says?” asked Martens.

  “Not over the phone,” said Josh. “We are really throwing down a veil of secrecy over this until the press conference. And I certainly would not want to prejudice your own translation efforts!”

  “That is no way to treat your old friend and mentor, Joshua!” said Martens. “But it is good professional ethics. I look forward to seeing you soon.”

  “Your flight is at nine AM your time,” said Josh. “Can you get to the airport that early?”

  “I was released from the hospital yesterday,” Martens said. “Alicia and I can pack up and drive to the airport Hilton here in a couple of hours, and just spend the night. Then we’ll be in the boarding line bright and early.”

  “Great,” said Josh. “I can’t wait to see you again!”

  * * *

  Late Wednesday evening, near the remains of the ancient seaport of Ostia, a hired driver named Luigi Figaro approached the large rental truck he had been asked to deliver to Naples. According to the manifest, it was loaded with eight crates of potting soil for use at a botanical garden. However, he was to deliver it to a storage facility in the north part of town, where a garage slot had been reserved. Apparently the gardeners were not going to be ready for it till next week. Luigi shook his head. It struck him as an odd way to do business, but what did he know about growing flowers? He was getting paid, with an extra bonus if he got the thing delivered before 6 AM Thursday. It was easy money, as traffic was light after 8 PM and the drive was only a few hours.

  He peeked in the back and saw the crates stacked on top of one another. He wrinkled his nose at the rich, fecund smell of fertilizer and dirt, and then he shut the cargo door, climbed in, and started the engine. He tuned the radio to his favorite station and pulled into the evening traffic.

  * * *

  Josh and the archeological team were meanwhile wrangling over how to present the scroll to the media. Dr. Sinisi had joined them, since publicity was his bailiwick, but Dr. Castolfo was also there to rein in his enthusiastic colleague.

  “I tell you, you MUST have the actual scroll in the media room! Photographs and video footage will not do this time!” Sinisi was saying.

  “I dinna like that idea,” growled MacDonald. “My solution does stabilize the ancient papyrus, but that much flash photography is not good for the two-thousand-year-old ink.”

  “We do have some special glass cases that neutralize the worst effects of bright lighting,” said Castolfo. “Why don’t we rig up one of those for it? That way, the reporters can see the actual document, but it will still be temperature and humidity controlled, and protected from bright lights.”

  The Vatican archeologist nodded in reluctant assent. “Very well,” he finally said. “I still don’t like it, but I see the point in having the actual manuscript there. Now, if you will excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, my colleague Dr. Klein will be arriving shortly. I am going to the airfield to meet him.”

  “Very well,” said Castolfo. “It has been a long day, folks, and tomorrow will be a very busy time of preparation. I suggest we call it a night.”

  Josh lingered for a moment as the others headed to the door. “Dr. Castolfo,” he said.

  The Bureau’s president looked at him and said “Yes, Dr. Parker?”

  “I heard that Dr. Tintoretto has resigned from the board,” the young American replied. “I can’t help but feel partly responsible. I regret the intensity of my outburst.”

  The older man sighed. “I have known Maria many years,” he said. “She is a very angry person, and over the years her anti-Christian mania—and there is not another word for it—has grown stronger and stronger. I am not a religious man, but at the same time I am also enough of a historian to recognize the truth of what you said. The tomb of Jesus was indeed empty, whatever the reason. Pontius Pilate’s testimony proves that beyond a doubt. Her obsession with debunking Christianity is so strong that when the scroll confirmed what the Gospels said, cognitive dissonance set in. It did not agree with her version of reality, so to her it must be a fraud. Otherwise her entire worldview has been proven wrong, and her fragile personality could not handle such a paradigm shift.”

  “I wonder what she has planned for her press conference,” Josh said.

  “I am sure she will announce that the scroll is faked, that the discovery was staged, and the translation biased,” said Castolfo. “However, she has zero proof of any of those assertions other than her own opinion. I will make sure a couple of the reporters in the crowd know what to ask in order to expose just how completely subjective her claims are. Your work, and that of your colleagues, is very valuable, and your field technique beyond reproach. Dr. Apriceno’s findings should prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that the reliquary was completely undisturbed, and that the scroll was placed there two thousand years ago. That should neutralize any allegations of fraud that she cares to make.”

  Josh nodded. “I’ve known some pretty militant atheists over the years,” he said, “but I have never seen anyone so bristling with hostility. Still, it is saddening that she has allowed her prejudices to destroy her objectivity.”

  He walked to the door where Isabella waited for him. She slipped her hand into his as they walked toward the front doors of the museum. “So what are you doing this evening?” she asked.

  “I was thinking of setting up my webcam and having a chat with my parents,” he said. “I would like to introduce you to them, if you would care to join me.”

  “It’s a virtual world these days, isn’t it?” she said. “Not that long ago, I would have had to either wait to meet them in person or else join in on a conference call with bad audio. Now it’s the two-way video links that used to exist only in Star Trek episodes.”

  “You like Star Trek?” Josh asked.

  “Well, of course,” said Isabella.

  “Original series, Next Generation, or Voyager?” he queried.

  “No Deep Space Nine?” she replied.

  “Nobody really likes that one,” he said.

  “That’s rather harsh,” she said. “I thought Commander Sisko was one of the most intriguing characters in Roddenberry’s universe!”

  They were happily engaged in sci-fi nerd talk as they walked out the door, and for the second time that week the explosion of flashbulbs caught them by surprise. Once more they had been caught holding hands in public, Josh thought. Somehow, the idea didn’t bother him one bit, though.

  “Doctor Sforza! Any comment on the Pilate scroll?” shouted one reporter.

  “Why yes,” she said. “I have a great deal to say about it!” A hush spread over the crowd as every journalist trained his microphone on her. “Sadly, I can’t share those comments till Friday,” she said sweetly, setting off a chorus of groans.

  “Can you at least tell us how you were able to get the scroll opened and read so quickly?” asked the Tribune reporter Drew Eastwood.

  “That is a fair question and does not violate the confidentiality I have agreed to,” said Isabella. “So I will give you an answer. Ancient papyrus that has been rolled up for centuries dries out and
remains in the rolled-up position. When we find such a scroll, we place it in a rehydration tank that restores the moisture gradually. As the papyrus soaks up the moisture, it becomes pliable again and unrolls on its own. The more moisture it soaks up, the faster the unrolling process. These two scrolls were both so well preserved that they unrolled in close to record time. When we shared the Augustus scroll with you gentlemen on Tuesday, the Pilate scroll had already begun to unroll. Once it flattened out, we treated it with a special solution developed by our own Dr. MacDonald that stabilized the papyrus so that it could be handled without fear of damaging it. As soon as the solution dried, we began the process of translating it that afternoon.”

  “Were there any difficulties with the translation? Was the text complete and legible?” Eastwood persisted.

  Isabella looked at him with a new respect. This young man was persistent and determined, but he also was well-informed, courteous, and asked no stupid questions. She decided to answer him honestly.

  “You are very close to overstepping the bounds of what I am allowed to share at this point,” she said. “But you are not quite there yet. So I will tell you this much: the Latin script was very clear and the document undamaged. We are quite certain that we have recovered the words completely and accurately. The text was translated independently by two of my colleagues, who then compared their results very carefully. There were no major discrepancies. Now as to what the text actually said—you’ll have to wait till Friday!”

  The young blond journalist nodded respectfully, and Isabella decided then and there that when the time came to give an exclusive interview, he would be her choice recipient. But now the rest of the pack was shouting questions.

  “Can you at least tell us if the account agrees with the New Testament versions of Jesus’ trial?” shouted a British journalist.

  “No, sorry!” she replied.

  “Do you know why Dr. Tintoretto resigned from the Board of Antiquities?” asked the Italian TV reporter Antonio Ginovese.