The Constantine Codex
Page 15
“I have a question for you, Professor Weber,” Abbas al-Rashid began. “What in Islam do you find the most difficult doctrine to accept?”
Clever, Jon thought. Makes Abbas look like he’s ready for anything, while luring me out on a dangerous limb. Why didn’t I think of that one first? Jon finally opened his mouth and said, “The doctrine of abrogation.”
Abbas looked puzzled. “The doctrine of abrogation?”
“Yes, the idea that God could lay down one precept and then-in what is claimed as a subsequent revelation-change his mind and say something entirely different. I find that demeaning to God’s perfection.”
“But the later command is an improvement on the previous one, as Allah tells us. Isn’t that gracious of the Divine Majesty?”
At that point, Jon had to bite his tongue, for he wanted to say, Well, why didn’t the deity get it right the first time? Didn’t he have a second cup of coffee that day? What he actually said was “One only wonders why anything that God did or said would need improvement.” This was met with applause from the Christian contingent. Then he added, in tit for tat, “And what in Christianity do you find the most difficult doctrine to accept, esteemed Imam?”
“Two claims, really,” he replied. “The Trinity, of course, is still incomprehensible to any Muslim. But the other is what you Christians call the doctrine of the Incarnation, that the God of the universe could have taken on human flesh in Jesus. That is impossible by any standards and is far more demeaning to God than the idea of God improving on his commands.”
“Well said! And I certainly agree that the Trinity and the Incarnation are the two greatest mysteries, the two greatest miracles of the Christian faith. Again, though, I side with Augustine who said, ‘I believe because it is absurd’-absurd to human logic, to be sure, but our minds are so dimensionally different from that of God that what seems absurd to us may be entirely logical in the divine dimension. And what greater revelation could God give us than to cross the cosmic divide into humanity, forming the divine bridge by which we can truly know God and experience the blessings of having our sins forgiven by faith in the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ?”
“Very well, then, let me ask you the most important question any Muslim can ask of anyone else. May I?”
“Of course.” Here it comes, Jon thought, with no idea how it might be defined.
Al-Rashid asked, “What is your true opinion, your honest opinion of the Prophet Muhammad-may his name be blessed?”
A sudden, tense silence filled the vast reaches of Hagia Sophia. Well, it was dynamite, Jon realized. Or better, his tightrope was now stretched across the caldera of a volcano bubbling with hot lava and threatening to explode whether or not he fell off the tightrope first. What he wanted to say was not what he could say at that place and time. Yet he had to be honest.
Jon smiled. “I have many good things to say about the Prophet Muhammad.” A loud stirring on both sides of the aisle showed that he had startled the entire audience. He paused to let the strange tidings digest, then continued. “First of all, he led his people away from the terrible error of paganism, polytheism, and their worship of many different desert deities to monotheism, since there can be only one God. Belief in the one God sets Judaism, Christianity, and Islam apart from all other world religions then or since. We surely have that in common.”
“Well said!” al-Rashid replied. “I heartily agree.”
“Muhammad also taught people to abandon idolatry and other sad practices of paganism. He taught them spiritual disciplines, such as prayer, fasting, and concern for the poor, and he set higher ethical standards than had previously been the case among the desert tribes of Arabia. His reforms aimed in the right direction, for example, reducing the number of wives a man might have to only four. Previously, there had been no limit.”
“Again I must agree. Well spoken. Why, then, can you not also become my brother in the true faith? All you must do is define Jesus correctly as one of the greatest of the prophets, yet less than God-and thus restore unity in place of trinity. But are there any other reasons you cannot join us?”
“Yes, there are. But first I must thank you for your fraternal spirit. We need much more of that in Muslim-Christian dialogue. There are indeed many other reasons that I cannot follow Islam, but a single day’s debate is not long enough to air them. Since our time is expiring, let me mention only one. I find it extremely unwise to hazard my entire spiritual future by believing in one person’s claimed revelation, whether that person be man or woman, boy or girl. What if that one person should be wrong? And I do believe that every religion founded by just one person has indeed been mistaken.”
At the loud Muslim murmuring, al-Rashid held up his hands for silence, then replied, “Well, I would agree with you in the case of Zoroaster, or Gautama Buddha, or Mithra, or Joseph Smith, or Mary Baker Eddy-all single founders-but you have just admitted, then, that Christianity is false, since it was founded by one man: Jesus of Nazareth.”
“No, my honored opponent! Christianity had many founders who lived and taught God’s revelation across many centuries. We believe the testimony of God’s patriarchs and prophets in the Old Testament, who predicted matters that were fulfilled with incredible accuracy many centuries later. We believe the further testimony of God’s evangelists and apostles and missionaries in the New Testament, as well as in the ultimate embodiment of God’s revelation in Jesus Christ. Now that is what we call a whole ‘cloud of witnesses’ who can be trusted since their testimony is unanimous.”
Spirited Christian applause filled the basilica.
The moderators now tinkled their bells, indicating that it was time for a final summation by each side. Al-Rashid was given the favored position of having the last word, due to the essentially Muslim environment.
Jon started his summation with a surprising twist. “I am most grateful to everyone in this basilica for your attendance and for your patience, as well as to all who had a hand in preparing this event. I don’t think a final summary of the Christian position is necessary at this point, since that should be quite obvious by now. Instead, I would like to close with an urgent appeal for further dialogue and tolerance between Muslims and Christians. Both sides have been guilty of failures in this respect. In the West, we’ve been traumatized by radical Islam-especially since 9/11-and so there the debate rages as to whether Islam is a religion of peace or violence.
“The answer, of course, is yes, meaning that one can find both in the Qur’an. Yet so often when Muhammad advocated violence it was more in the form of a general inspiring his troops prior to actual warfare, since the Prophet had been attacked militarily. Does anyone think that-were Muhammad alive today-he would have condoned the attacks in New York or Washington, the subway bombings in London and Madrid, the assassinations in Beirut, the bombings of mosques in Pakistan, the murderous rampage in Mumbai, and dozens of other acts of Islamic terrorism across the world?”
“Never! He would not have!” al-Rashid interposed.
Jon smiled and continued. “And so I would plead that the great moderate majority in Islam across the world become far more vocal, far more active in curbing the incendiary rhetoric of radical mullahs and other militants who preach violence. I would plead that their governments become far more active in eradicating terrorist cells in their own nations and elsewhere. These fanatics have killed far more of their own Muslim brothers and sisters than the Western Christians they have targeted!
“To be sure, Christians in history have also failed to follow the teachings of the Prince of Peace. But in general, our period of religious violence ended centuries ago. Today, we do not see Christian or Jewish terrorists blowing up Islamic mosques, do we? Sadly, the reverse is often the case, which is why I would rejoice to see a true Islamic reformation take place in terms of the same mature moderation now achieved in both Judaism and Christianity. If you forget everything else in our discussion today, please remember this vision, this plea.
Abbas al-Rashid stood with slow deliberation and said, “I, too, thought of using this summation to ‘win for Islam,’ as it were, but I agree so thoroughly with my opponent’s plea for peace, dialogue, and moderation that I am pleased to say that I agree with his statements in almost every respect. Even in the Christian West, however, we also hear radical voices denouncing Muslims as ‘camels’ or ‘towel heads.’ This is not to say that our radicalisms are the same. Ours, I must confess, are far more violent, far more dangerous, and far more in need of correction.
“For that reason and others, I join with Professor Weber in appealing to all Muslim authorities in both state and religion to denounce radical Islam, to curb terrorism, and finally to end it. They must admit this truth to their people: that terrorism has never-anywhere in history or anywhere on earth -succeeded in establishing a successful government or society. Its history instead has been one of bloodshed, civil upheaval, anarchy, and general chaos. For that reason, reason itself must prevail. If it does, I have great hopes for another golden age for Islam-as was the case in the Abbasid era, for which I was named-but only if it escapes the clutches of those who would restrict it. These are the same false leaders who have prevented Muslim progress in so many fields in the centuries since. I hope people of goodwill everywhere may support this effort.
“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, Christians and Muslims alike, for your presence at our discussion today.”
Al-Rashid received applause similar to what Jon had evoked, though actually more from the Christian than the Muslim audience. In the eastern half, some had refused to applaud, especially Shiite representatives. Abbas and Jon walked toward each other, met near the center of the table on the dais, shook hands, and then actually embraced. Instantly, the applause became a vast, genuine ovation.
Punctual as always, Monsignor Kevin Sullivan was in the chandeliered lobby of the Hilton at 7:05 p.m., when Jon and Shannon stepped off the elevator. This time nattily attired in clerical grays, the dark-haired, ruddy-faced son of Ireland gracefully kissed Shannon’s hand and then squeezed Jon’s.
“We really wanted to take you over to the Sultan’s Table on the Golden Horn, Kev,” Jon said, “but the CIA vetoed it-especially tonight-so we’ll have to make do with the hotel restaurant.”
“The Bosphorus Terrace? Not a bad alternate! Hey, kabobs and beer would do. This time it’s the company, not the food.”
The maitre d’ seated them next to a sliding-glass door overlooking the city, and the conversation lagged not a moment from that time on. In fact, they hurried their drink order for one bottle of local merlot so they could get on with it. The three had been through several extraordinary adventures together recently that could massively have affected the Christian faith, and they wondered if this would be another.
“You turned in a virtuoso performance today, Jon,” Kevin observed. “The Holy Father was particularly pleased-I was on the phone with him an hour ago-and if only you were a good Catholic, I really think he’d give you a red hat!”
“Hmm… Jonathan Cardinal Weber,” Shannon said. “It does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
“Ah, but then I’d have to give you up, Shannon,” Jon said, “and become a solitary celibate like Kevin!”
“And you’d never want that, Jon!” Kevin played along. “The beautiful Shannon alone is worth your staying Lutheran.” After smiles and chuckles, Kevin grew serious. “I’ll say again, this was an important day in the fourteen-century interface between Christianity and Islam, and you did our faith proud.”
Jon shook his head. “Both you and I know that I could have hauled out some really heavy artillery against Islam, but I had to limit myself to a handgun. And you know why.”
Kevin nodded, pensively.
Shannon said, “I think when the debate comes out on DVD and especially in printed form, it may pack even more power. Any word on how it was received in Rome, Kevin, apart from Benedict XVI, that is?”
“Well, I also spoke with Cardinal Buchbinder, the Vatican Secretary of State, and he told me business nearly ground to a halt today, with everyone hooked to a TV screen. Same for the general public in Italy, I understand, since Radiotelevisione Italiana covered everything. But, thank God, no riots anywhere so far.”
“And you can thank Jon’s pulled punches for that,” Shannon commented.
When they had ordered the main course, Jon shifted the conversation. “Okay, team, enough about the debate. Frankly, I’m debated out. But now,” he said grandly, “let us tell you, Kevin, about the fabulous thing that happened this week, and it’s not the debate…”
Kevin looked at him quizzically. Shannon had a slight smile on her lips.
“But before we tell you, we’ll need your pledge to keep this absolutely confidential for now, okay?”
At Sullivan’s emphatic nod, Jon said, “Do you see that lovely proof for God’s existence sitting at our table?” All eyes focused on Shannon, a slight flush tinting her cheeks. “That woman with the face of an angel also has the mind of a Solomon and the luck of the Irish. Please start off, Shannon. Begin with Pella.”
Hardly needing any persuasion, Shannon eagerly unpacked her discovery in Jordan, capping it off with her find in the basement of the Eastern Orthodox Patriarchate. In the telling, Kevin’s eyes grew wide, and when she told of the title page identifying the codex as one of the fifty copies of Scripture ordered by Constantine, his jaw dropped open.
“My… my goodness,” he stammered. “That could revolutionize New Testament scholarship! Up to now, among the great uncials, our earliest are the Vaticanus, the Sinaiticus, and the Alexandrinus. But this version-authorized by Constantine and prepared by Eusebius, no less-would easily trump them all. This is a… a scholar’s dream !”
Kevin pushed what was left of his juicy filet to one side of the plate and seemed to grow incandescent with excitement. “Okay, we have the title page, but what about the rest of the text? What’s the format? How many columns per page? How many lines per column? What books are inclu-”?“We don’t know, Kevin,” Shannon said. “Or rather, we don’t know yet -except for four columns per page.”
“What in very blazes do you mean?”
Jon explained. “Just as we were ready to get into the text, the curator of the archives returned, and we instinctively ‘covered our tracks,’ as it were. Maybe we should have been open about it from the start, but then, I think, the patriarch would have invited his Greek scholars by the dozens to pore over the codex, and we could have been last in line.”
Kevin nodded. “I think you did the right thing.”
“But now you’ll start to understand that, ever since Shannon found that codex a couple days ago, my mind has been there and not on the debate.”
“Well, your mind on autopilot doesn’t do a bad job. But when are you going back to examine that codex and photograph its pages?”
“Tomorrow morning, of course.”
“Great! I have to fly back to Rome tomorrow, but do keep me informed, Jon, and let me know when I can tell the Holy Father.”
“Right, but only if you keep a buttoned lip in the meantime.”
As Jon leaned over to refill Shannon’s wine glass, they heard a sharp crack from outside. The bottle of merlot shattered in his hands, gushing crimson all over the tablecloth and onto their laps.
“Get under the table!” someone yelled.
As the three dove for cover, another shot demolished Jon’s plate into shards of crockery that spattered off the walls. Shrieking and panic filled the restaurant.
Several men from adjacent tables ran to the sliding-glass door that had been ten inches ajar, permitting a breeze-and two bullets-easy admission. Guns drawn, they stormed through the door while Turkish police rushed into the room and surrounded Jon, Shannon, and Kevin. For some moments, a surrealistic scene of bedlam transformed the Bosphorus Terrace into a chamber of horror. C
ommands were barked, only adding to the cacophony of shouting and screaming that filled the place.
Shannon, Jon, and Kevin were hustled out of the restaurant and onto the first available elevator. As its brass door was closing, Jon saw that the other diners were being similarly herded out. But who will pick up all their tabs? he wondered, then worried about his own sanity for posing such an inane question in such an emergency.
Safely inside their suite, Shannon sat on the edge of their bed trembling, trying with only limited success to put on a brave front. The men took turns pacing the floor and glancing at the door. Jon tried to redeem the situation, without really knowing how, except to say that a small army of police now controlled the hall leading to their suite.
Presently, Richard Ferris and Osman al-Ghazali appeared with Click and Clack, who explained that the men at nearby tables in the restaurant were from the CIA and the Turkish government police. They had just recovered the weapon at the edge of the broad lawn in back of the hotel, an old U.S. Army Garand rifle with telescopic sight. The perpetrator, evidently, didn’t believe in suicide bombing, although simple murder was fine. Had it been the other way around, or if he had simply shown up with a firearm at point-blank range just outside the open glass door, Jon would be no more.
The phone rang. It was Adnan Yilmaz, the Turkish minister of culture who had met them at the airport. He explained-with official regrets on the part of the Republic of Turkey-that they were doing ballistic tests on the bullets and checking the rifle for fingerprints. Meanwhile, however, Jon and his party were not to leave the Hilton-advice they found quite unnecessary.
Minutes passed, yet time dragged. Although he was not supposed to, Jon briefly parted the opaque sleep curtains in their suite to look below. He saw a long column of police cars with flashing red and blue lights and heard the alternating dual wail of European emergency vehicles. And of course, right behind them were the news trucks and television vans.