Templar Globe

The editor of the Templar Globe just found this interesting article that brings us the view of a Pakistan islamic journalist. To form a better view of the issued that are part ou our history we have to read both sides of the accounts.

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The Book and the Prophet they hold in such contempt are the only religious head and the book that glorify Jesus and Gospel. If Jesus commands the respect he has today it is owing to the declaration by Muahammad and the Quran that Jesus was a Miracle of God and his mother was pious and virgin when she gave birth to Jesus. If this was not the stand of Islam, Pope can very well understand what the majority of the world could have called Jesus as. But Islam gave Jesus his true place in the history of the world by describing him as Messenger and Word of God.

o The Bible advocates much greater violence against the detractors than the Quran The following verses are from the Bible, New International Version (NIV), 1984:

* Do not allow a sorceress to live. Anyone who has sexual relations with an animal must be put to death. Whoever sacrifices to any god other than the LORD must be destroyed. (Exodus 22:18-20)
* This is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: ‘each man strap a sword to his side. Go back and forth through the camp from one end to the other, each killing his brother and friend and neighbour.’ The Levites did as Moses commanded and that day about three thousand of the people died. (Exodus 32:27-28 )
* The LORD said to Moses, ‘Take vengeance on the Midianites for the Israelites…. The Israelites captured the Midianite women and children and took all the Midianite herds, flocks and goods as plunder. They burned all the towns where the Midianites had settled, as well as all their camps…. (Moses ordered) “Now kill all the boys. And kill every woman who has slept with a man, but save for yourselves every girl who has never slept with a man. (Numbers 31: 1-18 )
* (Jesus said) “But those enemies of mine who did not want me to be king over them - bring them here and kill them in front of me. (Luke 19:27)
* He (Jesus) said to them, ‘But now if you have a purse, take it, and also a bag; and if you don’t have a sword, sell your cloak and buy one. (Luke 22:36 )

Christians who are always blaming Quran for asking Muslims to “kill the unbelievers” must stop this tirade, as Jesus asked for the “enemies” to be killed “in front of me.” The Old Testament is replete with the accounts of bloody battles that killed thousands of persons. In this context, following remarks from an article are important:

“Is Christianity only a religion of Peace and Love? I do not think that anyone can honestly and objectively examine American or European history and answer “yes” to that question. Christianity can encourage Peace and Love - but it certainly need not, and it quite often has done just the opposite. Although the people responsible for violence might have found a way to express their hatred without Christianity, it cannot be ignored that Christianity offers a convenient divine mandate for hatred and violent acts against a wide range of people………Violent inclinations in Christianity are apparent right from the beginning……The course of modernity has been one strewn with blood, bones, and bodies - much of which can be attributed to Christianity.” (Atheist.com)

In another article, “The Real History of the Crusades”, Thomas F. Madden, despite his huge defence of the crusades against Islam, admits:

“…I was frequently asked to comment on the fact that the Islamic world has a just grievance against the West. Doesn’t the present violence, they persisted, have its roots in the Crusades’ brutal and unprovoked attacks against a sophisticated and tolerant Muslim world? In other words, aren’t the Crusades really to blame?….. Ex-president Bill Clinton has also fingered the Crusades as the root cause of the present conflict. In a speech at Georgetown University, he recounted (and embellished) a massacre of Jews after the Crusader conquest of Jerusalem in 1099 and informed his audience that the episode was still bitterly remembered in the Middle East. (Why Islamist terrorists should be upset about the killing of Jews was not explained.) Clinton took a beating on the nation’s editorial pages for wanting so much to blame the United States that he was willing to reach back to the Middle Ages. Yet no one disputed the ex-president’s fundamental premise…… The Crusades are generally portrayed as a series of holy wars against Islam led by power-mad popes and fought by religious fanatics. They are supposed to have been the epitome of self-righteousness and intolerance, a black stain on the history of the Catholic Church in particular and Western civilisation in general. A breed of proto-imperialists, the Crusaders introduced Western aggression to the peaceful Middle East and then deformed the enlightened Muslim culture, leaving it in ruins. For variations on this theme, one need not look far. See, for example, Steven Runciman’s famous three-volume epic, History of the Crusades, or the BBC/A&E documentary, The Crusades, hosted by Terry Jones. Both are terrible history yet wonderfully entertaining.….The Crusades were wars, so it would be a mistake to characterise them as nothing but piety and good intentions. Like all warfare, the violence was brutal (although not as brutal as modern wars). There were mishaps, blunders, and crimes. These are usually well-remembered today. During the early days of the First Crusade in 1095, a ragtag band of Crusaders led by Count Emicho of Leiningen made its way down the Rhine, robbing and murdering all the Jews they could find. Without success, the local bishops attempted to stop the carnage. In the eyes of these warriors, the Jews, like the Muslims, were the enemies of Christ. Plundering and killing them, then, was no vice. Indeed, they believed it was a righteous deed, since the Jews’ money could be used to fund the Crusade to Jerusalem….. Jews perished during the Crusades, but the purpose of the Crusades was not to kill Jews”. He takes lot of pains in proving the better side of crusades, which of course is opposite to the analysis of most of the neutral historians. This is why he calls his analysis “the real history”. But the negative side of crusades is extremely ugly. Not only Muslims but Jews were also brutally massacred in the process. In the first Crusade, the Christian fighters, in order to avenge the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, massacred tens of thousands of innocent Jews, Muslims, and even Orthodox Christians who had the misfortune to dress or look like Muslims. On July 15, 1099, they reached Jerusalem where streets were drenched with the blood of Muslims and Jews. Those who survived were sold into slavery. In 1144, in the Second Crusade, the Jewish communities of Germany faced another slaughter in Jesus’ name. During the Third Crusade in 1170. Jews in York, Lynn, Norwich, Stamford, and other towns of England were massacred. In 1198, Pope Innocent III began the Fourth Crusade. He ordered Jews to wear badges to identify themselves, and then ordered them to be killed to atone for Jesus’ death. After the formal ending of Crusades, thousands of young Crusaders burned their way across Europe exterminating more than 150 Jewish communities. The worst victims were of course Muslims. In the First Crusade, nearly all of the Muslims inside Antioch. were killed by the merciless crusaders. . Then the crusaders attacked Marrat an-Nu’man where the crusaders (The Templars, known for their religiousness) slaughtered a hundred thousand people. The attack on Jerusalem witnessed the worst kind of brutalities that ever occurred before in the history. No Muslim was given mercy. Old, young, men, women and children were brutally massacred. The blooded flooded the streets, reaching as high as knees. Muslims were thrown from the tops and burnt. The crusaders mounted the Mount of Solomon and killed hundreds of thousands. In contrast when Salaadin recaptured Jerusalem, no Christian was harmed. Those who wanted to leave the city were allowed to do so; those who wanted to live were allowed to live by paying tribute. Those who could not pay tribute were condoned. The irony is that Crusaders themselves lost millions of lives in the fights; often Christens killed fellow Christians with the same brutality with which they massacred Muslims and Jews.”

Islam, Peace and Jihad

Peace” in Islam does not merely refer to the absence of war. It is a much more comprehensive term that includes peace at physical, mental, family and social (national and international) levels. This implies absence of all forms of diseases and weaknesses at individual level, and absence of all forms of mischief in society. The verses of the Holy Quran are full of messages that speak of tolerance, endurance and peace. Equally strong are messages against chaos, mischief, suppression and oppression. In fact when one goes through the Holy Book, one can easily feel the intensity with which Islam wants to achieve its aim of grand peace. True, in exceptional circumstances, it allows armed struggle, but it prefers to avoid violence. And whenever it allows violence, it is only aimed at preventing greater violence or widespread chaos. Let us examine the following verses:

· “..but if they cease, Let there be no hostility except to those who practise oppression.” (2:193)

· “Therefore if they withdraw from you but fight you not, and (instead) send you (Guarantees of) peace, then Allah hath opened no way for you (to war against them).” (4:90)

· “But if the enemy incline towards peace, do thou (also) incline towards peace, and trust in Allah.” (8:61)

· “……………with those Pagans with whom ye have entered into alliance and who have not subsequently failed you in aught, nor aided any one against you. So fulfil your engagements with them to the end of their term: for Allah loveth the righteous.” (9:4)

· “If one amongst the Pagans ask thee for asylum, grant it to him, so that he may hear the word of Allah and then escort him to where he can be secure. That is because they are men without knowledge.” (9:6)

· “Allah forbids you not, with regard to those who fight you not for (your) Faith nor drive you out of your homes, from dealing kindly and justly with them: for Allah loveth those who are just. Allah only forbids you, with regard to those who fight you for (your) Faith, and drive you out of your homes, and support (others) in driving you out, from turning to them (for friendship and protection). It is such as turn to them (in these circumstances), that do wrong.” (60:8-9)

· “Whenever two factions of believers fall out with one another, try to reconcile them. If one of them should oppress the other, then fight the one, which acts oppressively until they comply with God’s command. If they should comply, then patch things up again between them in all justice, and act fairly. God loves those who act fairly.” (49:9)

· “…and let not the hatred of others to you make you swerve to wrong and depart from justice. Be just: that is next to piety”(5:8 )

· “If they do come to thee, either judge between them, or decline to interfere. If thou decline, they cannot hurt thee in the least. If thou judge, judge in equity between them.” (5:42)

· “Verily, this brotherhood of yours is a single brotherhood, and I am your Lord and Cherisher.”(21:92)

· “Do no mischief on the earth, after it hath been set in order…”(7:56)

· “The blame is only against those who oppress men and wrong-doing and insolently transgress beyond bounds through the land…”(42:42)

· “And fear tumult or oppression, which affecteth not in particular (only) those of you who do wrong…”(8:25)

· “…………..if any one slew a person - unless it be for murder or for spreading mischief in the land - it would be as if he slew the whole people: and if any one saved a life, it would be as if he saved the life of the whole people.”(5:32)

The above verses clearly spell out the principles of Islam. Quran is categorical in its condemnation of those who directly or indirectly contribute to mischief, oppression and anarchy. These terms surely include terrorism. But at the same time they also include glorification and commercialisation of human weaknesses (commercialisation of sex, gambling, smoking and drinking) that lead to rise in the incidence of several diseases, disintegration of families, crimes and social tensions. Terrorism is to be defined in a way in which it includes all its ramifications. The world today tends to define it in a way that suits its interests. Terrorism must include anything that can lead to diseases, instability and chaos at individual, family and social level. The states that directly or indirectly support such activities are also to be confronted with. The punishment of such activities is in fact extremely severe in Islam:

“The punishment of those who wage war against Allah and His Messenger, and strive with might and main for mischief through the land is: execution, or crucifixion, or the cutting off of hands and feet from opposite sides, or exile from the land: that is their disgrace in this world, and a heavy punishment is theirs in the Hereafter..” (5:33)

The term “Jihad” in Islam does not mean an armed fight, which at best is only a part of it. Jihad, in fact is an incessant struggle to spread what is good and uproot what is evil. The best Jihad, according to Islam is against one’s self. And when this definition is extended to a social level, it again means struggle against forces that exploit human weaknesses or oppress the weak and poor.

Islam is for peace. God clearly abhors mischief, and loves peace:

· Every time they kindle the fire of war, Allah doth extinguish it; but they (ever) strive to do mischief on earth. And Allah loveth not those who do mischief. (5:64)

· And We shall try you until We test those among you who strive their utmost and persevere in patience; and We shall try your reported (mettle). (47:31)

· …verily Allah loves those who act aright. (3:76)

· ..but do thou good, as Allah has been good to thee, and seek not (occasions for) mischief in the land: for Allah loves not those who do mischief. (28:77)

· Those who believe, and suffer exile and strive with might and main, in Allah’s cause, with their goods and their persons, have the highest rank in the sight of Allah. they are the people who will achieve (salvation). Their Lord doth give them glad tidings of a Mercy from Himself, of His good pleasure, and of gardens for them, wherein are delights that endure.. (

Thus Islam has a perfect, yet pragmatic approach towards establishing a lasting peace in society. In an effort to prove that Islam is for peace, some scholars tend to totally disregard any form of armed struggle. Islam does not merely ask its followers to engage themselves in a few rituals; it prepares them to establish a system and protect it. Every ideology and system takes all the necessary measures to protect it from external and internal mischief and to consolidate it. Islam is no exception and it has greater right to work in that direction because it aims to establish the rule of God, not an oligarchy. All ongoing struggles in the world cannot be equated with terrorism. To fight against the occupation by external forces, usurpers of land, tyrannical rulers, exploiters, forces of evils and oppressors cannot be regarded terrorism. To sacrifice one’s life in a bid to harm the enemies for a justified cause cannot be condemned as “suicide attacks”; any bombing that is for a justified cause and is aimed at justified targets must be termed sacrificial bombing. There are some Islamic scholars who argue that Jihad can be undertaken only by an Islamic state. They are awfully mistaken, playing in the hands of those who want to reserve all military options open for them including pre-emptive strikes and at the same time want Muslims to forego their right to fight altogether. If Muslims can fight only under the command of a state, it means they cannot fight against an occupying force and against a tyrannical ruler. If the government of a state is corrupt, anti-Islamic or oppressive, nobody can deny the people the right to organise into groups and campaign against it. However, deliberate killing of innocents cannot be regarded desirable even if it is in response to killing of innocents by a country or a group. Though Quran allows Muslims to transgress against the enemy if it transgresses against them, this is surely the last and not the first option. Furthermore, state terrorism and state-sponsored terrorism are much more dangerous than the terrorism of splinter groups. The so-called Islamic terrorism has caused much less damage and has taken much fewer lives than the state terrorism of the US and Israel and state sponsored terrorism of some other countries. What is the US action in Iraq if not the worst form of terrorism? What are Israel’s actions against Palestinians if not terrorism of the most abominable kind?

Another allegation that is labelled against Islam is that Quran calls for killing all the unbelievers. The protagonists of this thesis base their arguments on the verses that call for killing the Unbelievers, forgetting that these verses are war-time-injunctions. “Unbelievers” in these verses means only the unbelievers engaged in the combat. Refer to the verses quoted above that speak against compulsion in the religion, Thus the Holy Book states:

· “..but if they cease, Let there be no hostility except to those who practise oppression.” (2:193

· “Therefore if they withdraw from you but fight you not, and (instead) send you (Guarantees of) peace, then Allah hath opened no way for you (to war against them).” (4:90)

· “But if the enemy incline towards peace, do thou (also) incline towards peace, and trust in Allah.” (8:6 1)

It is clear also that the injunctions of Quran are almost similar in the case of fights between factions of Muslims. It asks its true followers to also fight those Muslims who are unjust.

Jihad in Islam is obligatory. It is an important constituent of the Islamic mission of universal peace and justice. It is in fact incumbent on all the human beings to engage in this mission. But for Muslims it is a divine duty. Jihad is meant for protecting the weak against the mighty; for alerting the forces of evil that their sordid adventures will not go unchallenged; for giving the oppressed sections a voice and wrecking the nerve-centres of the tyrants; and for giving the exploiters sleepless nights. Jihad prepares a person to sacrifice his possessions including his life if required for the cause of God. But Mujahids must clearly know that the objective of Jihad is not to bring certain persons to power, nor to bring theocracies to the whole world through sheer use of force. “Deen”, the system of God does not necessarily mean the establishment of a theocratic government through violent means; it means the rule of justice. Fighting is only the last but an open option in Jihad. If conditions are justifiable for fighting, it becomes obligatory; if conditions do not demand fighting, it becomes aggression. If its objectives are for the welfare of the masses it is desirable; if it is an excuse for selfish ends, it is an unparalleled sin. Jihad through peaceful means must always continue without halt; Jihad through arms must be an aberration. But once the conditions are justifiable, fighting must see no sympathy for the enemy; it must be given a crushing below. Fighting against the wicked is no violence; it is an exercise aimed at minimising violence. Killing bacteria and viruses through antibiotics and antiviral drugs is essential to maintain a healthy life. If microbes are not killed, they will kill the very person who provides them the food for their sustenance.

Islam however does not accept that “all is fair in love and war”. Even in war, all Islamic conditions must be followed in letter and spirit. As soon as the conditions are bright for an honourable settlement, fighting must be stopped without delay; for the ultimate objective is not the subjugation of the enemy but an end to mischief, anarchy, chaos and oppression. The powers that dominate do always try to take the right to fight away from others, so that they can continue to hold reins. They amass massive stocks of deadly weapons, but deny others the right to possess them. They do not hesitate a second to attack or invade the positions of their challengers, but make too much fuss of even the smallest acts of armed resistance. They kill innocents in big numbers and label it as ‘collateral damage’; and lambaste their opponents, through the weapons of words and war, if their actions cause the deaths of even a handful of innocents.

Several thinkers have tried to prove that the expansion of Islamic State after its establishment at Medina was achieved through the use of force. The hawks within the Islamic community present this as a ground for their aggressive intents; the hawks outside Islam use this as an evidence of the religion’s expansionist designs and support for violence. The countries were given the option, they argue, to either accept the supremacy of Islamic State or face war. This is true that several Muslim rulers used such tactics. But there was nothing extraordinary about this strategy, for it had been an inveterate practice throughout the world at that time, before and even for centuries after that. There were no clear injunctions in Quran directing Muslims to expand the borders of their empire. What the Caliphs did was only in keeping with the established norm. At that time there was no UN charter in force, and no international treaty bound the states to certain international obligations. All the powerful rulers in that era used to demand allegiance from the smaller states, and this had been happening throughout the ages in Europe, Asia and Africa. Britain, Russia, France and China—all had been using force to expand their influences, till very recently. Islamic rulers must however be credited for their humanistic approach to their political consolidation. They did not usuallyin general followed. Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) gave clear guidelines regarding conduct during combat. He prohibited Muslim soldiers from killing women, children and the elderly, or cut a palm tree. He advised them, “… do not betray, do not be excessive, do not kill a new-born child.” Another tradition of the Prophet states, “Whoever has killed a person having a treaty with Muslims shall not smell the fragrance of Paradise, though its fragrance is found for a span of forty years.” Yet another tradition states, “The first cases to be adjudicated between people on the Day of Judgement will be those of bloodshed.” Quran equated the killing of an innocent as the killing of the whole mankind. The Prophet also said, “Truly your blood, your property, and your honour are inviolable.” And “There is a reward for kindness shown to every living animal or human.” indulge in massacres. Moreover, they took practical steps to earn the favour of the masses. They gave them the right to practise their own religion, the right to refuse services in the military in return of a tax, the right to live as honourable citizens, the right to earn, the right to own properties and the right to follow their own family laws and laws of inheritance. Their life and honour were guaranteed full protection. Even in fighting, strict observance of certain principles was prescribed by Islam, which most of the rulers

The truth is that in most of the places conquered by Muslims the people took a sigh of relief at their arrival; they more often than not brought them out of the yoke of injustice and tyranny. This is why the masses thronged to accept Islam in most of the places, and even after the departure of their conquerors they mostly remained loyal to their new religion. In the conquered countries, Muslim caliphs often preferred to have local men in charge of the affairs. The rule of Muslims, with a few exceptions, proved to be far superior to that experienced by the masses before. It was this confidence in the new system that the Islamic caliphate, despite the fact that many of the caliphs were not as pious and upright as Islam would want them to be, was able to sustain itself for about a millennium. Even after the dismemberment of the caliphate, almost all the people of most of the Muslim countries have continued to be within the fold of Islam; some of them have emerged as its citadels. It is significant that an outstanding number of Islamic scholars in the current world hail from non-Arab countries like India, Pakistan, Malaysia, Iran and Turkey.

It should be made clear here however that the nations are now bound by the treaties of the UN that do not permit any country to conquer any other country for the expansion of ideology. Muslim as well as non-Muslim nations are parties to this agreement. So no Muslim or Non-Muslim nation can now be allowed to invade or threaten other nations for the export of its own ideology or for any other reason unless there are compelling reasons to do so and the majority of the members of the UN agree to it. However, people are free to propagate their beliefs, ideas and customs through peaceful means. But the world must be ready to ban all such substances and practices that lead to death and social problems at a big scale. In the name of freedom, the business of death cannot be allowed to prosper.

It can be seen that not only the constitutions of all countries as well as that of the UN permit the use of force for certain purposes, scriptures of almost all religions also prescribe the use of force in several situations. Compare them with Quran, and it will be clear that Quranic guidelines are much better example of a perfect and pragmatic approach in the current world.

in Editorial on Religion in the Pakistan Daily

St George was adopted as patron saint of England by one of our great warrior kings, Richard, of whom Shakespeare wrote: “Richard who robbed the lion of his heart and fought the Holy wars in Palestine.”

Richard was one of the leaders of the third crusade, triggered by the capture of Jerusalem by Saladin in 1189.

When Richard, against all the odds, defeated Saladin at the Battle of Arsuf in 1191, a mysterious warrior wearing the crusading insignia of a red cross on a white surcoat, was seen at the forefront of the fighting.

The local soldiery proclaimed him to be their patron saint - St George, a Roman centurion born at Lydda, 20 miles from Jerusalem. He was known to be a great warrior but was executed in the 3rd century AD by order of the Roman emperor Diocletian for refusing to countenance the persecution of Christians.

Richard forthwith adopted him as our patron saint with his battle cry, “St George for England,” as opposed to his fellow crusader Philip’s cry of: “St Denis for France.” Richard also restored the Church of St George at Lydda, where the saint is buried. And although I cannot vouch for its existence today, the ruins were still there in 1945.

Richard also funded the Knights Templar Pilgrims’ Castle on the coast ten miles south of Haifa and, under the peace treaty he made with Saladin, arranged for pilgrims arriving there to be escorted to and from Jerusalem by the Templars.

As for St George never having set foot in England, Richard, although born in Oxford, spent only six months of his reign here.

It seems to me that George is an eminently suitable saint for England. Besides, what would the Union Jack look like without the cross of St George?

G Price, Valley Drive, Brighton

In the biblical descriptions of the Easter event, the story moves straight from Good Friday to Easter Sunday. An entire day of grief, devastation and fear lies unspoken between the end of one paragraph, where Jesus is buried, and the beginning of the next, his resurrection two days later. Perhaps it was simply that there were no words to do justice to the empty day in the middle. We can only imagine that, for the followers of Jesus, it must have been the emptiest, most shattering experience they could ever encounter — a metaphorical hell. Tradition tells us that Jesus was in the real one.

The Christian church doesn’t worship on Easter Saturday — as God is dead, there is nothing left to worship. It gives the day over to the hardware shops and the football. But if any day in the Christian calendar resonates with the fear, sadness and desperation that so much of the world lives with at every moment, it has to be yesterday.

If we needed evidence that the world is living through a long Easter Saturday, we don’t need to look any further than the newspaper headlines last week. It’s ironic that while many churches have been preparing for Holy Week and Easter, telling a story of sacrifice and salvation that happened 2000 years ago, a holy week of another kind has been unfolding in Tibet. We heard stories last week of monks and students who have stood against injustice and oppression, even though for many it has led to their deaths. They join a long line of people through history who have given everything they have for freedom, sometimes in the name of God, and sometimes in the name of life. Occasionally, the everything they have given has been enough to change the world. Often it hasn’t. It’s difficult to imagine greater courage or faith.

For the first time in years, hope has political currency around the world. It’s defining the current US election, in stark contrast to previous elections, where platforms of fear and terror have been certain vote-winners. For the first time ever, part of me wishes I lived in the US so I could vote for hope, too. It’s seductive, we all want to join its bandwagon. It’s tempting to think that if the world is speaking of hope, then everything just might change.

British guerilla graffiti artist Banksy visited the segregation wall that separates Palestine from Israel a few years ago. In his typically subversive style, he stencilled images on to the grey concrete wall: startling vistas of tropical islands, pictures of plush armchairs seated by windows that overlooked snow-capped mountains, a silhouette of a girl holding a bunch of balloons that were carrying her to freedom above the wall. He painted an alternative world of hope and liberation on to the concrete reality of conflict and despair. As he was working, an old Palestinian man approached him, and they had this conversation:

Old man: “You paint the wall, you make it look beautiful.”

Banksy: “Thanks.”

Old Man: “We don’t want it to be beautiful. We hate this wall, go home.”

Our human inclination, when we come face to face with despair on a personal or global scale, is to paint over it with easy answers, and to think that because we can only see the paint, the concrete reality behind it no longer exists. It’s almost impossible to sit in the great chasm of the world’s Easter Saturday and not fill it with glib promises and wishful thinking, to layer a resurrection story on top of it. We depend on the promise of a happy ending, but when we realise that there are some stories for which there is no ending, our hope crumbles.

It sounds cynical to assume that there won’t always be a happy ending but, if that’s the case, Jesus was the ultimate cynic. “The poor will be with you always,” he said, and then he continued to fight the systems that oppressed the poor all the way to his death.

The hope that Jesus died for should only be defined by its most despairing and cynical audience: the widow and the orphan, the betrayed and the betrayer. Their hope isn’t in the world being fixed, it’s in surviving the night.

“Hope begins in the dark,” says author Anne Lamott. That’s the miracle that Christians believe was made real through the resurrection, and a truth that has been proven through history. We can’t talk ourselves or anyone else into having hope. We get there only by turning up in the darkness and doing the right thing. By choosing and honouring justice and love every time, hope has a chance to be born.

There are a few words that should always be accompanied by official warnings, if only because their misuse causes so much damage. Love is one of them, hope another. But if we are going to vote for hope, we have to be willing to do more than simply paint pictures onto concrete walls. The only way the world can survive this Easter Saturday is if we have the courage and faith it takes to wait with those who are living in hell, even if there is no certainty that they or we will survive. It seems even God knows that there is no other way.

in theage.com.au
Cheryl Lawrie is a Melbourne writer.

The sufferings of Our Lord, which culminated in His death upon the cross, seem to have been conceived of as one inseparable whole from a very early period. Even in the Acts of the Apostles (i, 3) St. Luke speaks of those to whom Christ “shewed himself alive after his passion” (meta to mathein autou). In the Vulgate this has been rendered post passionem suam, and not only the Reims Testament but the Anglican Authorized and Revised Versions, as well as the medieval English translation attributed to Wyclif, have retained the word “passion” in English. Passio also meets us in the same sense in other early writings (e.g. Tertullian, “Adv. Marcion.”, IV, 40) and the word was clearly in common use in the middle of the third century, as in Cyprian, Novatian, and Commodian. The last named writes:

“Hoc Deus hortatur, hoc lex, hoc passio Christi
Ut resurrecturos nos credamus in novo sæclo.”

St. Paul declared, and we require no further evidence to convince us that he spoke truly, that Christ crucified was “unto the Jews indeed a stumbling-block, and unto the Gentiles foolishness” (1 Corinthians 1:23). The shock to Pagan feeling, caused by the ignominy of Christ’s Passion and the seeming incompatibility of the Divine nature with a felon’s death, seems not to have been without its effect upon the thought of Christians themselves. Hence, no doubt, arose that prolific growth of heretical Gnostic or Docetic sects, which denied the reality of the man Jesus Christ or of His sufferings. Hence also came the tendency in the early Christian centuries to depict the countenance of the Saviour as youthful, fair, and radiant, the very antithesis of the vir dolorum familiar to a later age (cf. Weis Libersdorf, “Christus-und Apostel-bilder”, 31 sq.) and to dwell by preference not upon His sufferings but upon His works of mercifulness, as in the Good Shepherd motive, or upon His works of power, as in the raising of Lazarus or in the resurrection figured by the history of Jonas.

But while the existence of such a tendency to draw a veil over the physical side of the Passion may readily be admitted, it would be easy to exaggerate the effect produced upon Christian feeling in the early centuries by Pagan ways of thought. Harnack goes too far when he declares that the Death and Passion of Christ were regarded by the majority of the Greeks as too sacred a mystery to be made the subject of contemplation or speculation, and when he declares that the feeling of the early Greek Church is accurately represented in the following passage of Goethe: “We draw a veil over the sufferings of Christ, simply because we revere them so deeply. We hold if to be reprehensible presumption to play, and trifle with, and embellish those profound mysteries in which the Divine depths of suffering lie hidden, never to rest until even the noblest seems mean and tasteless” (Harnack, “History Of Dogma”, tr., III, 306; cf. J. Reil, “Die frühchristlichen Darstellungen der Kreuzigung Christi”, 5). On the other hand, while Harnack speaks with caution and restraint, other more popular writers give themselves to reckless generalizations such as may be illustrated by the following passage from Archdeacon Farrar: “The aspect”, he says, “in which the early Christians viewed the cross was that of triumph and exultation, never that of moaning and misery. It was the emblem of victory and of rapture, not of blood or of anguish.” (See “The Month”, May, 1895, 89.) Of course it is true that down to the fifth century the specimens of Christian art that have been preserved to us in the catacombs and elsewhere, exhibit no traces of any sort of representation of the crucifixion. Even the simple cross is rarely found before the time of Constantine (see CROSS), and when the figure of the Divine Victim comes to be indicated, it at first appears most commonly under some symbolical form, e.g. that of a lamb, and there is no attempt as a rule to represent the crucifixion realistically. Again, the Christian literature which has survived, whether Greek or Latin, does not dwell upon the details of the Passion or very frequently fall back upon the motive of our Saviour’s sufferings. The tragedy known as “Christus Patiens”, which is printed with the works of St. Gregory Nazianzus and was formerly attributed to him, is almost certainly a work of much later date, probably not earlier than the eleventh century (see Krumbacher, “Byz. Lit.”, 746).

In spite of all this it would be rash to infer that the Passion was not a favourite subject of contemplation for Christian ascetics. To begin with, the Apostolical writings preserved in the New Testament are far from leaving the sufferings of Christ in the background as a motive of Christian endeavour; take, for instance, the words of St. Peter (1 Peter 2:19, 21, 23): “For this is thankworthy, if for conscience towards God, a man endure sorrows, suffering wrongfully”; “For unto this are you called: because Christ also suffered for us, leaving you an example that you should follow his steps”; “Who, when he was reviled, did not revile”, etc.; or again: “Christ therefore having suffered in the flesh, be you also armed with the same thought” (ibid., iv, 1). So St. Paul (Galatians 2:19): “with Christ I am nailed to the cross. And I live, now not I; but Christ liveth in me”; and (ibid., v, 24): “they that are Christ’s, have crucified their flesh, with the vices and concupiscences” (cf. Colossians 1:24); and perhaps most strikingly of all (Galatians 6:14): “God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ; by whom the world is crucified to me, and I to the world.” Seeing the great influence that the New Testament exercised from a very early period upon the leaders of Christian thought, it is impossible to believe that such passages did not leave their mark upon the devotional practice of the West, though it is easy to discover plausible reasons why this spirit should not have displayed itself more conspicuously in literature. It certainly manifested itself in the devotion of the martyrs who died in imitation of their Master, and in the spirit of martyrdom that characterized the early Church.

Further, we do actually find in such an Apostolic Father as St. Ignatius of Antioch, who, though a Syrian by birth, wrote in Greek and was in touch with Greek culture, a very continuous and practical remembrance of the Passion. After expressing in his letter to the Romans (cc. iv, ix) his desire to be martyred, and by enduring many forms of suffering to prove himself the true disciple of Jesus Christ, the saint continues: “Him I seek who dies on our behalf; Him I desire who rose again for our sake. The pangs of a new birth are upon me. Suffer me to receive the pure light. When I am come thither then shall I be a man. Permit me to be an imitator of the Passion of my God. If any man hath Him within himself, let him understand what I desire, and let him have fellow-feeling with me, for he knoweth the things which straiten me.” And again he says in his letter to the Smyrnæans (c. iv): “near to the sword, near to God (i.e. Jesus Christ), in company with wild beasts, in company with God. Only let it be in the name of Jesus Christ. So that we may suffer together with Him” (eis to sympathein auto).

Moreover, taking the Syrian Church in general — and rich as it was in the traditions of Jerusalem it was far from being an uninfluential part of Christendom — we do find a pronounced and even emotional form of devotion to the Passion established at an early period. Already in the second century a fragment preserved to us of St. Melito of Sardis speaks as Father Faber might have spoken in modern times. Apostrophising the people of Israel, he says: “Thou slewest thy Lord and He was lifted up upon a tree and a tablet was fixed up to denote who He was that was put to death — And who was this? — Listen while ye tremble: — He on whose account the earth quaked; He that suspended the earth was hanged up; He that fixed the heavens was fixed with nails; He that supported the earth was supported upon a tree; the Lord was exposed to ignominy with a naked body; God put to death; the King of Israel slain by an Israelitish right hand. Ah! the fresh wickedness of the fresh murder! The Lord was exposed with a naked body, He was not deemed worthy even of covering, but in order that He might not be seen, the lights were turned away, and the day became dark because they were slaying God, who was naked upon the tree” (Cureton, “Spicilegium Syriacum”, 55).

No doubt the Syrian and Jewish temperament was an emotional temperament, and the tone of their literature may often remind us of the Celtic. But in any case it is certain that a most realistic presentation of Our Lord’s sufferings found favour with the Fathers of the Syrian Church apparently from the beginning. It would be easy to make long quotations of this kind from the works of St. Ephraem, St. Isaac of Antioch, and St. James of Sarugh. Zingerle in the “Theologische Quartalschrift” (1870 and 1871) has collected many of the most striking passages from the last two writers. In all this literature we find a rather turgid Oriental imagination embroidering almost every detail of the history of the Passion. Christ’s elevation upon the cross is likened by Isaac of Antioch to the action of the stork, which builds its nest upon the treetops to be safe from the insidious approach of the snake; while the crown of thorns suggests to him a wall with which the safe asylum of that nest is surrounded, protecting all the children of God who are gathered in the nest from the talons of the hawk or other winged foes (Zingerle, ibid., 1870, 108). Moreover St. Ephraem who wrote in the last quarter of the fourth century, is earlier in date and even more copious and realistic in his minute study of the physical details of the Passion. It is difficult to convey in a short quotation any true impression of the effect produced by the long-sustained note of lamentation, in which the orator and poet follows up his theme. In the Hymns on the Passion (”Ephraem Syri Hymni et Sermones,” ed. Lamy, I) the writer moves like a devout pilgrim from scene to scene, and from object to object, finding everywhere new motives for tenderness and compassion, while the seven “Sermons for Holy Week” might both for their spirit and treatment have been penned by any medieval mystic. “Glory be to Him, how much he suffered!” is an exclamation which bursts from the preacher’s lips from time to time. To illustrate the general tone, the following passage from a description of the scourging must suffice:

“After many vehement outcries against Pilate, the all-mighty One was scourged like the meanest criminal. Surely there must have been commotion and horror at the sight. Let the heavens and earth stand awestruck to behold Him who swayeth the rod of fire, Himself smitten with scourges, to behold Him who spread over the earth the veil of the skies and who set fast the foundations of the mountains, who poised the earth over the waters and sent down the blazing lightning-flash, now beaten by infamous wretches over a stone pillar that His own word had created. They, indeed, stretched out His limbs and outraged Him with mockeries. A man whom He had formed wielded the scourge. He who sustains all creatures with His might submitted His back to their stripes; He who is the Father’s right arm yielded His own arms to be extended. The pillar of ignominy was embraced by Him who bears up and sustains the heaven and the earth in all their splendour” (Lamy, I, 511 sq.). The same strain is continued over several pages, and amongst other quaint fancies St. Ephraem remarks: “The very column must have quivered as if it were alive, the cold stone must have felt that the Master was bound to it who had given it its being. The column shuddered knowing that the Lord of all creatures was being scourged”. And he adds, as a marvel, witnessed even in his own day, that the “column had contracted with fear beneath the Body of Christ”.

In the devotional atmosphere represented by such contemplations as these, it is easy to comprehend the scenes of touching emotion depicted by the pilgrim lady of Galicia who visited Jerusalem (if Dr. Meester’s protest may be safely neglected) towards the end of the fourth century. At Gethsemane she describes how “that passage of the Gospel is read where the Lord was apprehended, and when this passage has been read there is such a moaning and groaning of all the people, with weeping that the groans can be hear almost at the city. While during the three hours’ ceremony on Good Friday from midday onwards we are told: “At the several lections and prayers there is such emotion displayed and lamentation of all the people as is wonderful to hear. For there is no one, great or small, who does not weep on that day during those three hours, in a way that cannot be imagined, that the Lord should have suffered such things for us” (Peregrinatio Sylviæ in “Itinera Hierosolymitana”, ed. Geyer, 87, 89). It is difficult not to suppose that this example of the manner of honouring Our Saviour’s Passion, which was traditional in the very scenes of those sufferings, did not produce a notable impression upon Western Europe. The lady from Galicia, whether we call her Sylvia, Ætheria, or Egeria, was but one of the vast crowd of pilgrims who streamed to Jerusalem from all parts of the world. The tone of St. Jerome (see for instance the letters of Paula and Eustochium to Marcella in A.D. 386; P.L., XXII, 491) is similar, and St. Jerome’s words penetrated wherever the Latin language was spoken. An early Christian prayer, reproduced by Wessely (Les plus anciens mon. de Chris., 206), shows the same spirit.

We can hardly doubt that soon after the relics of the True Cross had been carried by devout worshippers into all Christian lands (we know the fact not only from the statement of St. Cyril of Jerusalem himself but also from inscriptions found in North Africa only a little later in date) that some ceremonial analogous to our modern “adoration” of the Cross upon Good Friday was introduced, in imitation of the similar veneration paid to the relic of the True Cross at Jerusalem. It was at this time too that the figure of the Crucified began to be depicted in Christian art, though for many centuries any attempt at a realistic presentment of the sufferings of Christ was almost unknown. Even in Gregory of Tours (De Gloria Mart.) a picture of Christ upon the cross seems to be treated as something of a novelty. Still such hymns as the “Pange lingua gloriosi prœlium certaminis”, and the “Vexilla regis”, both by Venantius Fortunatus (c. 570), clearly mark a growing tendency to dwell upon the Passion as a separate object of contemplation. The more or less dramatic recital of the Passion by three deacons representing the “Chronista”, “Christus”, and “Synagoga”, in the Office of Holy Week probably originated at the same period, and not many centuries later we begin to find the narratives of the Passion in the Four Evangelists copied separately into books of devotion. This, for example, is the case in the ninth-century English collection known as “the Book of Cerne”. An eighth century collection of devotions (manuscript Harley 2965) contains pages connected with the incidents of the Passion. In the tenth century the Cursus of the Holy Cross was added to the monastic Office (see Bishop, “Origin of the Prymer”, p. xxvii, n.).

Still more striking in its revelation of the developments of devotional imagination is the existence of such a vernacular poem as Cynewulf’s “Dream of the Rood”, in which the tree of the cross is conceived of as telling its own story. A portion of this Anglo-Saxon poem still stands engraved in runic letters upon the celebrated Ruthwell Cross in Dumfriesshire, Scotland. The italicized lines in the following represent portions of the poem which can still be read upon the stone:

I had power all
his foes to fell,
but yet I stood fast.
Then the young hero prepared himself,
That was Almighty God,
Strong and firm of mood,
he mounted the lofty cross
courageously in the sight of many,
when he willed to redeem mankind.
I trembled when the hero embraced me,
yet dared I not bow down to earth,
fall to the bosom of the ground,
but I was compelled to stand fast,
a cross was I reared,
I raised the powerful King
The lord of the heavens,
I dared not fall down.
They pierced me with dark nails,
on me are the wounds visible.

 Still it was not until the time of St. Bernard and St. Francis of Assisi that the full developments of Christian devotion to the Passion were reached. It seems highly probable that this was an indirect result of the preaching of the Crusades, and the consequent awakening of the minds of the faithful to a deeper realization of all the sacred memories represented by Calvary and the Holy Sepulchre. When Jerusalem was recaptured by the Saracens in 1187, worthy Abbot Samson of Bury St. Edmunds was so deeply moved that he put on haircloth and renounced flesh meat from that day forth — and this was not a solitary case, as the enthusiasm evoked by the Crusades conclusively shows.

Under any circumstances it is noteworthy that the first recorded instance of stigmata (if we leave out of account the doubtful case of St. Paul) was that of St. Francis of Assisi. Since his time there have been over 320 similar manifestations which have reasonable claims to be considered genuine (Poulain, “Graces of Interior Prayer”, tr., 175). Whether we regard these as being wholly supernatural or partly natural in their origin, the comparative frequency of the phenomenon seems to point to a new attitude of Catholic mysticism in regard to the Passion of Christ, which has only established itself since the beginning of the thirteenth century. The testimony of art points to a similar conclusion. It was only at about this same period that realistic and sometimes extravagantly contorted crucifixes met with any general favour. The people, of course, lagged far behind the mystics and the religious orders, but they followed in their wake; and in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries we have innumerable illustrations of the adoption by the laity of new practices of piety to honour Our Lord’s Passion. One of the most fruitful and practical was that type of spiritual pilgrimage to the Holy Places of Jerusalem, which eventually crystalized into what is now known to us as the “Way of the Cross”. The “Seven Falls” and the “Seven Bloodsheddings” of Christ may be regarded as variants of this form of devotion. How truly genuine was the piety evoked in an actual pilgrimage to the Holy Land is made very clear, among other documents, by the narrative of the journeys of the Dominican Felix Fabri at the close of the fifteenth century, and the immense labour taken to obtain exact measurements shows how deeply men’s hearts were stirred by even a counterfeit pilgrimage. Equally to this period belong both the popularity of the Little Offices of the Cross and “De Passione”, which are found in so many of the Horæ, manuscript and printed, and also the introduction of new Masses in honour of the Passion, such for example as those which are now almost universally celebrated upon the Fridays of Lent. Lastly, an inspection of the prayer-books compiled towards the close of the Middle Ages for the use of the laity, such as the “Horæ Beatæ Mariæ Virginis”, the “Hortulus Animæ”, the “Paradisus Animæ” etc., shows the existence of an immense number of prayers either connected with incidents in the Passion or addressed to Jesus Christ upon the Cross. The best known of these perhaps were the fifteen prayers attributed to St. Bridget, and described most commonly in English as “the Fifteen O’s”, from the exclamation with which each began.

In modern times a vast literature, and also a hymnology, has grown up relating directly to the Passion of Christ. Many of the innumerable works produced in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries have now been completely forgotten, though some books like the medieval “Life of Christ” by the Carthusian Ludolphus of Saxony, the “Sufferings of Christ” by Father Thomas of Jesus, the Carmelite Guevara’s “Mount of Calvary”, or “The Passion of Our Lord” by Father de La Palma, S.J., are still read. Though such writers as Justus Lipsius and Father Gretser, S.J., at the end of the sixteenth century, and Dom Calmet, O.S.B., in the eighteenth, did much to illustrate the history of the Passion from historical sources, the general tendency of all devotional literature was to ignore such means of information as were provided by archæology and science, and to turn rather to the revelations of the mystics to supplement the Gospel records.

Amongst these, the Revelations of St. Bridget of Sweden, of Maria Agreda, of Marina de Escobar and, in comparatively recent times, of Anne Catherine Emmerich are the most famous. Within the last fifty years, however, there has been a reaction against this procedure, a reaction due probably to the fact that so many of these revelations plainly contradict each other, for example on the question whether the right or left shoulder of Our Lord was wounded by the weight of the cross, or whether Our Saviour was nailed to the cross standing or lying. In the best modern lives of Our Saviour, such as those of Didon, Fouard, and Le Camus, every use is made of subsidiary sources of information, not neglecting even the Talmud. The work of Père Ollivier, “The Passion” (tr., 1905), follows the same course, but in many widely-read devotional works upon this subject, for example: Faber, “The Foot of the Cross”; Gallwey, “The Watches of the Passion”; Coleridge, “Passiontide” etc.; Groenings, “Hist. of the Passion” (Eng. tr); Belser, D’Gesch. d. Leidens d. Hernn; Grimm, “Leidengeschichte Christi”, the writers seem to have judged that historical or critical research was inconsistent with the ascetical purpose of their works.
__________________________________________
Written by Herbert Thurston. Transcribed by Douglas J. Potter. Dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ - The Catholic Encyclopedia, Volume XI. Published 1911. New York: Robert Appleton Company.

It was a beautiful morning in late December when we set off on the coastal highway towards Haifa, just an hour or so northwest of Alfe Menashe. Along the way, we passed new construction on the beach front that one of our party, a friend from England, hadn’t seen before. Lately, developers have built up most of the available land along the Mediterranean coast, resulting in high-rises galore. This growth is a product of Israel’s fertility rate - the developed world’s highest - and the increase in home sales to wealthy Jewish North Americans and Europeans, as well as increasing numbers of Christian Zionists.

We also passed Jisr az-Zarqa, an Israeli-Arab village, the only wholly Arab town on the Mediterranean coastline in Israel. During and after the War of Independence, other Arabs living on the coast fled or were forced from their seaside towns. Notwithstanding that, the cities of Acre, Haifa, Tel-Aviv-Jaffa, Lod and others, all have large Arab populations.

Located just north of the wealthy town of Caesarea, Jisr az-Zarqa has been problematic since its beginnings in the 19th century. It was founded by black Sudanese, probably brought to the area by Napoleon to serve his troops. From the beginning, the villagers were shunned by the other Arabs in the area. Working for the residents of Caesarea has proved to be the most lucrative means of employment for the townspeople, but relations between the two communities are not good. A barrier separating the towns, built by Caesarea to distance itself from the noise of loudspeakers emanating from the mosques and the sound of gunfire from revelers at celebrations, hasn’t helped matters. Though it is relatively dilapidated, Jisr az-Zarqa has a fine beach and a modern sports/social center provided by the government, like the ones in nearly every Israeli town.

Entering Haifa, we quickly found a parking space at the foot of Ben Gurion Boulevard in the German Colony. From this vantage point, the view upwards towards the Carmel Mountain features the glorious Bahai Gardens … but more about that later. The German Templar neighborhood was established in 1868. The Templars purchased land that in those days was far from the town, which had only 4,000 residents. They also established other colonies in Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, Haifa, and throughout Palestine.

The Templars took their name from the German Temple Society, which strictly followed the New Testament. They intended to build the first planned agricultural community in the Holy Land. The large, beautiful stone homes they constructed are popular tourist attractions today. The Templars prospered in Palestine but suffered as a result of their German affiliations during the two World Wars, when members of the community sided with the Germans. In 1947, the Templars were deported from Palestine to Australia by the British. Eventually, in 1962, they were compensated for their lost properties by the Israeli government.

We continued walking towards Wadi Nisnas, Haifa’s only Arab neighborhood that has preserved its original character. It typifies the religious and communal coexistence of Haifa, with its stone houses, narrow alleyways, and Oriental-style market. Because of its picturesque buildings and streets, Wadi Nisnas hosts the annual three faiths festival, the Festival of Festivals, held during the Christmas season. On the way there, we couldn’t resist stopping at Mama Pita’s, a hole-in-the-wall shop with people crowding the entrance. We sampled the cheap and tasty pita pizza, topped with salty cheese and zatar (hyssop). Delicious!

We had a hard time sticking together in the midst of the festival crowds, but we enjoyed an antiques exhibition, musical events, hawkers selling everything you can imagine, crowded pastry shops with mouth-watering displays, and a felafel restaurant with a loud greeter (the best felafel in Israel! he proclaimed) giving out free samples to entice customers to buy. There was a street art competition in the area, so we looked at the walls, roofs, even dustbins for their particular artistic messages. After we grew tired of fighting the crowds, we walked leisurely out of Wadi Nisnas to the lower terrace of the Bahai Gardens.

The Bahai Faith, a post-Islamic monotheistic religion, was founded in mid 19th century Persia and has about six million adherents today, spread around the world. More than two million live in India, with the balance residing in nearly all the world’s countries. Israel is the center of the Bahai Faith and hosts its most prominent sites: the terraced Bahai Gardens of Haifa, including the tomb of the messianic Bahai precursor “the Bab”, and the mausoleum of the founder Baha’u'llah in Acre. Since its inception, the Bahai religion has faced persecution from some Islamic authorities, since it defies the Islamic teaching that Mohammed is the last prophet.

The gardens themselves are magnificent, with terraces from the upper city down the Carmel slopes to the foot of Ben Gurion Boulevard, which ends near the water. Everything growing in the gardens is pristine and is beautifully maintained by the devotees of the faith, who volunteer to spend time at the shrine. Almost unbelievably, the beautiful lawns, shrubs, and trees are maintained without man-made irrigation. It’s a “must see” attraction in Israel, which explains why reservations are needed to tour the gardens, which is accomplished by descending the many sets of stairs from top to bottom. But even without entering the grandiose gates, tourists like us were able to enjoy the view and the ambiance near the bottom entrance.

Tired by now, we had a pleasant rest in the lovely garden of an attractive coffee bar/restaurant, sitting on upholstered chairs and sofas, listening to good music. We were just biding our time until our reservation time at the Isabella Restaurant, located in a Templar building on the boulevard. We enjoyed excellent scallopini there, the only place we’ve found in Israel that serves it. On our way out, we were thankful that we had made reservations, since there was quite a throng of hungry people at the entrance. So ended a lovely day in Haifa, port city and industrial capital of Israel’s north.

By Steve Kramer, in http://www.infoisrael.net

Salomón es sin lugar a dudas uno de los personajes más apasionantes de cuantos son citados en la Biblia. De hecho, su fabulosa estela ha trascendido como la de ninguna otra figura bíblica el texto sagrado para echar raíces en el terreno del paganismo, la magia y el conocimiento hermético, pero… ¿quién fue realmente?

Los templarios ocuparon las ruinas de su templo reconstruido; los francmasones aseguran ser herederos de su sabiduría; los cabalistas lo sitúan como uno de sus primeros y principales maestros y su sello es uno de los talismanes más potentes que ha llegado a nuestros días. Incluso, la ficción literaria y más tarde el cine han alimentado la leyenda de Salomón a través de la búsqueda de sus míticos tesoros que, desde hace unos años, han vuelto a cobrar protagonismo en el terreno de la novela histórica, vinculando su figura con un aspecto herético que es objeto de gran polémica.

Existen pocas dudas acerca de la historicidad del personaje en cuestión, cuya vida aparece descrita con cierto detalle en el Libro Primero de los Reyes. Respondiendo también al nombre de Yedidyá, que significa “el amado por Dios”, Salomón equivaldría con algunos matices a “el Pacífico”, siendo el segundo de los hijos que nació de la unión del patriarca David con Betsabé. El segundo libro de Samuel nos explica que el rey David vio a una hermosa mujer bañándose y quedó prendado de su belleza; se trataba de Betsabé, esposa de Urías el hitita. De inmediato, David consumó su adúltera pasión para poco después ordenar que el fiel guerrero Urías fuese colocado en primera línea de batalla contra los ammonitas, muriendo en una de las contiendas. Yahvé recriminó a David a través del profeta Natán este pasional comportamiento castigando la acción con la muerte al poco de nacer, fruto del adulterio. El nacimiento del segundo hijo, Salomón, sería visto con buenos ojos por un Yahvé que enviaría de nuevo a Natán a comunicar su aprobación y a dictar su nombre.

Salomón accedió al trono de Israel hacia el año 970 a. de C., en medio de una pugna con su hermanastro Adonías, que como otros hijos de David de mayor edad aspiraban al codiciado trono. No obstante, los designios divinos había elegido a Salomón para tal fin y su padre no dudó en traspasarle el poder en vida, ayudado de una purga interna en la que Adonías y sus simpatizantes serían pasados a cuchillo. Salomón se convirtió así en el tercer y último rey del reino unificado, que posteriormente, al morir el sabio monarca hacía el 926 a. de C. se fragmentaría en el reino de Judá en el sur y el de Israel en el norte. Desde el punto de vista histórico, todo apunta a que en sus cuarenta años de reinado el monarca realizó una buena gestión, proporcionando a la mayor parte de su pueblo una época de bonanza y paz, articulando una corte de esplendor y riqueza gracias a las buenas relaciones externas facilitadas inicialmente por su matrimonio con la hija del faraón. “Sobrepasó el rey Salomón a todos los reyes de la Tierra en opulencia y sabiduría”, nos dice I Reyes (10, 23), y no era para menos, pues el relato nos da cuenta de caprichos como la construcción de doscientos grandes escudos de oro batido y otros trescientos de menor tamaño, así como un trono de marfil cubierto de oro, material del que igualmente estaban hechos todos los utensilios de la casa. Hasta mil cuatrocientos carros y doce mil caballos formaban parte de su guarnición. La construcción de infraestructuras y posterior potenciación de líneas comerciales fueron determinantes para el fortalecimiento del reino, en el que reorganizó los territorios convirtiendo a las doce tribus antes errantes en otras tantas provincias satélites cuya existencia giraba en torno a la costosa corte salomónica.

Mujeriego, sabio y constructor del templo

Nuestro protagonista estrechó lazos fraternales con el rey de Tiro Hiram I, quien colaboró con él en diversidad de proyectos, como la construcción de la más fabulosa obra de la antigüedad: el Templo de Salomón. Del mítico rey han llegado hasta nuestros días infinidad de referencias, entre las que no son en absoluto despreciables las que aluden a sus amoríos y promiscuidad. Especialmente célebre fue su encuentro con la reina de Saba, del que hallamos un prolífico desarrollo en el texto etiope Kebra Negast o La Gloria de los Reyes, aunque mucho más explícita y concluyente resulta aún la cita del Libro Primero de los Reyes en la que literalmente se nos dice que “además de la hija de Faraón, amó también a muchas mujeres extranjeras (…). Pero Salomón se apegó tanto a ellas por amor, que llegó a tener setecientas princesas por esposas y trescientas concubinas. Y sus mujeres pervirtieron su corazón”, I Reyes 11.

No obstante, también fue un hombre sabio, “más sabio que todos los hombres”, nos dice la Biblia, extendiéndose su fama por todas las naciones. Si hacemos caso de I Reyes, “formuló tres mil proverbios y compuso mil cinco cánticos”, y se le ha atribuido el Cantar de los Cantares, aunque ningún estudioso serio es capaz de sostener con argumentos históricos tal afirmación. De hecho, sólo una pequeña parte de los proverbios de la Biblia parecen corresponderse con la época en la que vivió el monarca, mientras que para el Cantar tampoco hay ningún dato sólido. La tradición y el fuerte contenido sensual del libro, en consonancia con la apasionada vida amorosa de Salomón, parecen constituir el único nexo de unión entre ambos.

Este compendio de metáforas sería, en opinión del experto en esoterismo Robert Ambelain, un “texto iniciático egipcio que llegó hasta Israel en el equipaje de la princesa de Egipto que se casó con Salomón, y se degradó al nivel del canto profano al llegar a los medios judíos ordinarios”.

Con todo, y lejos de estar reñida su promiscuidad con su sabiduría, sus profundos y variados conocimientos tal vez hayan sido determinantes para que escuelas y sociedades herméticas de toda índole hayan reivindicado su filiación salomónica. Ese saber, que la Biblia no termina de concretar si era innato o un atributo divino, quedó magistralmente recogido en el episodio de las dos mujeres que reclaman la maternidad de un bebé. La pugna se zanja cuando, ante la amenaza de partirlo en dos con una espada para dar a cada mujer una parte, la verdadera madre conmovida renuncia al niño con el único fin de que pueda seguir viviendo, ante la impasibilidad de la otra, acción reveladora para Salomón, que hace justicia entregándoselo y logrando con ello un efectismo que populariza aún más su sabiduría. Anécdotas como esta debieron contribuir a que un proyecto como la construcción del Templo de Jerusalén pudiera ser acogido por el pueblo como un designio verdaderamente dictado por Yahvé, y a que el mismo haya sido contemplado por hombres de todos los tiempos como símbolo de la perfección absoluta.

La edificación se levantó en una explanada del monte Moriah entre los años 969 y 962 a de C., bajo la dirección de un arquitecto que en la Biblia responde también al nombre de Hiram. Es significativo que el lugar sagrado de edificación de este templo haya sido el escenario, según la tradición judía, de notables episodios anteriores, como el frustrado sacrificio del hijo de Abraham, el célebre sueño de la escalera celestial de Jacob o los rituales del enigmático rey Melquisedec. El relato de I Reyes ofrece abundantes descripciones sobre las medidas y características particulares del Templo.

Todo detalle parecía crucial para un espacio sagrado en el que se iba a custodiar nada menos que el Arca de la Alianza, de tal manera que a la vista de la suntuosidad que rodeaba la corte no es de extrañar que el espacio a ocupar por el objeto sagrado, el santo de los santos, estuviera recubierto de oro fino, con un altar de cedro revestido del mismo material, oro que según el texto bíblico llegó a recubrir el templo en su totalidad. Dos querubines de olivo silvestre con una envergadura alar de cinco metros cada uno se tocaban por un extremo de sus alas mientras que por el otro rozaban los muros.

En el exterior fueron especialmente célebres las dos columnas de bronce con capiteles vegetales, bautizadas como Yakin –la de la derecha– y Bóaz –la de la izquierda–, piezas que hoy en día también forman parte de la simbología esotérica de la masonería. Se trataba de columnas que físicamente no sustentaban nada de la estructura del templo y que, como los obeliscos egipcios, pudieron tener una utilidad ritual. La destrucción del majestuoso edificio tres siglos y medio más tarde fue obra del rey babilónico Nabucodonosor II, no siendo convenientemente restaurado hasta la irrupción en la historia de Herodes el Grande, quien rehabilitó y amplió el edificio hacia el año 20 a. de C. Sus espacios devolvieron el eco de las palabras de Jesús, si hacemos caso a los Evangelios, siendo nuevamente destruido por las tropas del romano Tito en el año 70 de nuestra era.

Mientras muchos hebreos esperan con entusiasmo la reconstrucción del tercer templo, anunciador de un tiempo nuevo y de la llegada del Mesías, el lugar acuna a cristianos, a creyentes del judaísmo –que oran en el Muro de las Lamentaciones– y a seguidores del Islam, pues no en vano sobre la ruinas del mítico edificio –que también albergó cultos paganos de sirios, fenicios, romanos y griegos–, se encuentra la llamada Mezquita o Cúpula de la Roca, donde la tradición arábica fija los rezos y el ascenso de Mahoma con su caballo alado al-Boraq.

El señor de los genios, las máquinas y la magia

Puestos a resaltar curiosidades sobre la tradición musulmana y la figura de Salomón, es reseñable la estrecha relación que se plantea en el Corán entre el monarca y los djins, genios o espíritus elementales sobre los que nuestro protagonista parecía ejercer un importante grado de poder, y que aparecían en algunas suras del texto sagrado del islam.

La experta Montserrat Abumalham detalla, en un trabajo publicado en Anaquel de Estudios Árabes III, la especial relación del monarca con los genios, a partir del estudio de un capítulo del texto Kitab Adad al-Falasifa en el que se describe, para sorpresa de muchos, la transmisión de sabios conocimientos por parte de estas entidades, frecuentemente vistas como diabólicas. Transportado por un viento, se encontró con 110 genios filósofos en una isla donde le transmitieron supuestamente enseñanzas en forma de proverbios.

La tradición le vincula también con la magia –ver recuadros–, la cábala y el esoterismo, pero todavía hoy la figura de Salomón sigue rodeada de un aura de misterio que sólo ha sido en parte desvelado.

In this year of political grandstanding, it is refreshing to hear the true story of someone who quietly, and quite literally, “walks the talk.” Author/photographer Brandon Wilson and his 68-year-old French friend recently completed an eleven-country, two-continent walk for peace to Jerusalem along a trail long associated with war.

Wilson’s inspiring new book about their odyssey, Along the Templar Trail: Seven Million Steps for Peace (Pilgrim’s Tales, January 200 interweaves adventure, intrigue, wit and sharp social commentary into an entertaining Chaucerian tale about overcoming odds and discovering the secret to creating peace.

Their courageous journey from France to Jerusalem traced one marched a millennium ago by Crusaders and those who became the first Knights Templar. Like those men, their walk was difficult. There was always the uncertainly of how Middle Easterners would react once they discovered Wilson was an American. However, they frequently stumbled upon “angels” whose random acts of kindness bolstered their resolve and rekindled their belief in humankind.

It was an expedition filled with extreme highs and lows. The men trekked 2620-miles (the equivalent to crossing the U.S.) across difficult terrains in extreme climates, from the near-freezing Black Forest to Turkey’s broiling plains. There was the mental test of completing 30-50 km., a virtual marathon, each day. When war erupted in Israel and Lebanon, violence mounted in Damascus, and Hemorrhagic Fever raged in Turkey, everything became uncertain – except for their steadfast and perhaps life-threatening resolve.

Asked why he set-off on this quest, Wilson explained, “I’m convinced that one person can still make a difference in today’s world – and the time is now. It’s time for truth and tolerance, instead of blindly following a road of mutual destruction. I’m re-establishing this trail as an international path of peace for people of all cultures, faiths and nationalities. Let’s set aside our differences; let’s walk as one.”

Their trek attracted the attention of national television networks and major newspapers along the way, allowing them to spread an impassioned message of peace to millions of Christians, Muslims and Jews alike throughout eleven countries. Without fail, those ordinary people echoed their call to focus on our commonality instead of our differences – and the urgency of resolving our problems before it’s too late.

This tale of empowerment stands as a strong testimony to the courage of the human spirit. Arun Gandhi, president of the M.K. Gandhi Institute for Nonviolence, calls it, “A fascinating testimony of faith and gumption…A must read.”

With 44 photos, maps/illustrations and stages with distances, Along the Templar Trail provides a signpost for those who dream of making a similar journey—on foot themselves—or just in spirit and mind.

About the Author

Brandon Wilson is no novice to these types of journeys. This world adventurer and “perpetual pilgrim” has walked five of the world’s most important pilgrimage trails: the Camino de Santiago and Via de la Plata across Spain, the St. Olav’s Way across Norway, and he was the first American to walk the 1150-mile Via Francigena from England to Rome. His fascination began when he and his wife Cheryl became the first western couple to walk a traditional Buddhist trail from Lhasa, Tibet to Kathmandu.

Wilson is the award-winning author of Yak Butter Blues: A Tibetan Trek of Faith (2004) and Dead Men Don’t Leave Tips: Adventures X Africa (2005). His story “Life When Hell Freezes Over” appeared in They Lived to Tell the Tale: True Stories from the Legendary Explorers Club (The Lyons Press/Globe Pequot, 2007). His photos have won awards from National Geographic Traveler and Islands magazines. He is a member of the prestigious Explorers Club.

 En el siglo XII diversos reyes europeos recibieron una carta firmada por un tal Preste Juan, quien se autocalificaba regente de un misterioso reino situado en las tierras de Oriente y en el que habitarían seres mágicos. En El fantástico Reino del Preste Juan (Aguilar, 2007), obra fascinante de la que extractamos el siguiente artículo, su autor descubre en el documento una serie de claves esotéricas que apuntan hacia la Orden del Temple.

Varias misivas, escritas por un personaje que se hacía llamar Preste Juan de las Indias, llegaron a manos de importantes líderes políticos y espirituales en 1165, entre los que se incluían el emperador de Sacro Imperio Germánico, Federico Barbarroja; el emperador bizantino de Constantinopla, Manuel Comneno; Luis VII, rey de Francia; el monarca luso Alfonso Enriques y el Papa Alejandro III de Roma. El misterioso documento –cuyo remitente aseguraba que vivía en alguna parte de la difuminada geografía de Oriente– aludía a las enormes riquezas y gran poder que ostentaba su autor, el Preste. Este rex et sacerdos (rey y sacerdote) se confesaba cristiano, aunque algunos creyeron que pertenecía en realidad a la herejía de los nestorianos.

Los receptores de la carta vieron en el poderoso rey cristiano un excelente aliado para luchar contra los musulmanes. La respuesta del Alejandro III a la misiva del Preste se demoró casi cinco años, pero contó con un mensajero de lujo: su médico personal, un tal Phillipus. Nada se sabe del resultado de este viaje.

La espesa niebla del tiempo ocultó este curioso episodio. La misiva, en la versión destinada al emperador de Constantinopla, empezaba así: «El Preste Juan, por virtud y la gracia de Cristo Jesús, rey de todos los reyes cristianos y señor de todos los hombres de la Tierra, salud y gran amor envía al muy gentil Emperador, defensor de Constantinopla. Sabed que le desea salud para que prevalezca y conquiste grandes riquezas (…) Soy Señor de los Señores y supero en toda suerte de riquezas a las que hay bajo el cielo, así como en virtud y en poder a todos los reyes del universo mundo. Setenta y dos reyes son tributarios nuestros. Cristiano devoto soy y a los cristianos pobres que, en cualquier parte se hallan bajo el imperio de Nuestra Clemencia, los protejo».

Más adelante, el documento aludía a los habitantes del enigmático reino: las míticas mujeres amazonas, los pueblos condenados de Gog y Magog y hombres salvajes, además de centauros, unicornios y dragones adiestrados por sus súbditos. Cuando leí por primera vez la carta del Preste Juan me percaté de que su contenido estaba pergeñado de términos alquímicos, lapidarios medievales y, quizá, un mensaje críptico dirigido a la cristiandad. Alquimia de la inmortalidad.

Es posible que parte del mito del Preste Juan se gestase en la India. Sus habitantes creían en la estrecha relación entre el oro y la longevidad, un asunto que parecía interesarle al Preste especialmente. Los hindúes desarrollaron una «alquimia de la medicina», disciplina centrada en el estudio de la inmortalidad y del espíritu. Precisamente, en los dominios del rex et sacerdos existiría una fuente de la eterna juventud. La versión de la carta alude a un «palacio de la inmortalidad», perteneciente al Preste Juan, que una misteriosa voz ordenó construir a su padre. La obsesión de los alquimistas europeos por la transformación de metales viles en oro puede explicar, en parte, que en la carta se mencione reiteradamente la posesión de este metal. Pero la pista decisiva para confirmar el carácter alquímico de la misiva es la extensa referencia al mítico unicornio, importante elemento en el contexto de la alquimia, pues representa la naturaleza doble —divina y demoníaca— del mercurio, el cual actúa como agente de la transmutación.

Según cierta leyenda, la Piedra Filosofal se encuentra bajo el cuerno del unicornio, también considerado un poderoso antídoto contra venenos. La misiva del Preste se refiere a unicornios de tres pelajes: rojo, blanco y negro. «Sin embargo, los blancos tienen más fuerza que los demás, ya que combaten al león, aunque el león los mata», leemos en uno de los fragmentos. Está comprobado que estos tres colores se refieren a las tres etapas fundamentales de la alquimia: el nigredo (Obra en Negro), el albedo (Obra en Blanco) y el Rubedo (Obra en Rojo). La poder de las piedras preciosas El poder del Preste estaba relacionado con la posesión de gemas o piedras preciosas. En las cartas se citan algunas con propiedades mágicas y terapéuticas. La clave de estas menciones se encuentra en unas obras medievales llamadas lapidarios, que contenían abundante información sobre las gemas y sus capacidades mágicas, médicas y herméticas. La base de dichos textos es que los astros son capaces de proyectar sobre las piedras preciosas una serie de virtudes o desgracias, susceptibles de ser absorbidas por el ser humano que entre en contacto con éstas.

En la alquimia se asocian determinadas piedras y minerales con poderes cosmológicos y astrológicos. Según las cartas del Preste, el jaspe se utilizó en la construcción de los peldaños que daban acceso al monumental «espejo que todo lo ve». De acuerdo con los lapidarios, el jaspe tiene la facultad de confortar el espíritu y mejorar la vista. En la carta latina del Preste Juan se menciona, por encima de otras, a la esmeralda: «En nuestra mesa comen a diario treinta mil hombres, además de los que entran y salen (…). Esta mesa es de esmeraldas preciosas y la sostienen dos columnas de amatista. Por la virtud de esta piedra, nadie que se siente a la mesa puede embriagarse». Además, el Preste Juan poseía un cetro de esta misma piedra preciosa, que varios autores han relacionado con el Santo Grial, pues una versión afirma que el sagrado vaso estaba fabricado con esmeraldas. Así, el mito del rex et sacerdos se relaciona con el cáliz de la Última Cena. Quizá por este motivo, el caballero templario y trovador von Eschenbach escribe su poema Parzival sobre la leyenda del Rey Arturo y el Grial, introduciendo en el relato la figura del Preste Juan.

Los Templarios: autores de las cartas

Esta es la hipótesis que defiendo en mi libro “El fantástico Reino del Preste Juan”. Para ello me baso no sólo en un profundo análisis de las misivas, sino también en un estudio del contexto histórico en el que se divulgaron. Los documentos son el reflejo de una época –mediados del siglo XII– de grandes convulsiones políticas, sociales y culturales en Europa. En aquel mundo belicoso, fanatizado y supersticioso, las cruzadas representaron la culminación de un ideal largamente acariciado por reyes y papas: la conquista de Tierra Santa para la cristiandad. Las nuevas órdenes religiosas monásticas, como los Caballeros templarios, se esforzaron por estar presentes en Tierra Santa y franquear las rutas hacia Jerusalén de los peregrinos cristianos.

En el 1144 los turcos selyúcidas tomaron el condado latino de Edesa. Esto desencadenaría la segunda cruzada, predicada por San Bernardo de Claraval, que fracasaría cuando las tropas franco-germanas fueron derrotadas en Damasco. En 1145, en Viterbo (Italia), apareció un obispo cristiano de origen francés llamado Hugo. Procedente de Jabula (Líbano), era enviado por la Iglesia de Armenia. Hugo solicitaba ayuda al Papa Eugenio III para reconquistar a los árabes la ciudad de Edesa. El obispo mencionaba a un rey llamado Presbyter Iohannes que pretendía tomar Jerusalén y que vivía en el Extremo Oriente. Sin embargo, como era de esperar, nada se supo de los ejércitos del Preste Juan. Pero algunos regentes europeos no perdieron la esperanza en que el rex et sacerdos se dignase a unir sus tropas a las de los cruzados y, de este modo, derrotar a los musulmanes.

La carta probablemente tenía como fin insuflar ánimos a los principales monarcas de la cristiandad. Si pensaban que al otro lado del planeta existía un poderoso aliado cristiano, sería más complicado que se rindieran frente al enemigo musulmán. En la versión francesa de la carta se lee que 2.000 franceses armados protegían al misterioso rey y a sus tesoros. Esta cita apunta claramente a la Orden del Temple. Los templarios no eran simplemente monjes guerreros, sino que los más ilustrados se habían iniciado en algunos conocimientos, como la alquimia. Dicho «arte» les llegó por medio de los musulmanes, con los que se relacionaron en Tierra Santa.

La cruz Otra pista sobre un posible origen templario es la alusión en las cartas a la cruz, uno de los elementos más importantes de la simbología templaria: «Cuando procedemos a guerrear contra nuestros enemigos, mandamos llevar ante nuestra faz, en lugar de estandartes, trece cruces grandes y muy altas, hechas de oro y piedras preciosas, cada una en un carro; y todas y cada una de ellas son seguidas por diez mil caballeros y cien mil infantes armados». Los templarios también enarbolaban cruces en el campo de batalla. En la misiva también aparece reflejado el valor de la cruz de oro, es decir, el «oro alquímico».

Son 13 las cruces que portan los soldados del Preste, quizá recordando a los 12 apóstoles más Cristo o a los 12 signos zodiacales y el Sol, símbolo crístico por excelencia. Más tarde, durante el proceso contra los templarios en el siglo XIV, se los acusó de practicar artes alquímicas, algo que los acusadores consideraron funesto y demoníaco.

Años antes, en 1317, el Papa Juan XXII publicó una bula contra los alquimistas. Si realmente el autor de las cartas del Preste Juan fue un alquimista —y todo parece apuntar en esta dirección—, deberíamos buscarlo en el seno de la Orden de los Caballeros de Cristo en aquel año 1165, posiblemente en la Occitania. ¿La intención? Conseguir que los reyes cristianos reconquistaran Edesa –importante bastión templario– y expandir los dominios del Occidente cristiano más allá de los territorios conocidos.

¿Dónde está el reino del Preste Juan? El imperio del Preste Juan parece confundirse con el mismísimo Paraíso Terrenal o colindar con él. Es lo que se deduce de las cartas, pues, según las mismas, se encuentra situado donde surgen los ríos edénicos mencionados en el Génesis bíblico. Algunos creyeron que tales ríos nacían cerca del Ganges, en la India, o en la zona de Mesopotamia, entre el Tigris y el Eufrates, cuna de la humanidad. Además, en la misiva latina se menciona a uno de sus reinos del siguiente modo: «Un bosque situado en las estribaciones del monte Olimpo, del que brota una fuente de aguas transparentes que guarda el sabor de todas las especias (…). Su curso prosigue por tres días, hasta llegar a las proximidades del Paraíso, del que Adán fue expulsado».

En la Edad Media, la India se consideraba una tierra de infinitas riquezas, donde se situaba el Paraíso Terrenal, y que los comerciantes anhelaban dominar para obtener mercancías con las que negociar en Occidente. La tierra de Tarsis, a la que alude en la Biblia, se llegó a confundir con la misma India. En Tarsis, que en hebreo significa «crisólito» o «zafiro», moraban dragones y se producía pimienta en cantidad, tal como indica la carta del Preste.

El espejo mágico Uno de los objetos más enigmáticos y fascinantes mencionados en las cartas del Preste es, sin duda, el espejo mágico que todo ve. El soberano localiza el poderoso «cristal» frente a su palacio: «Encima de aquel pilar soberano, puesto allí por una mano sabia, descansa el espejo, que puede verse desde muy lejos en toda la región. Fue levantado con tan gran arte y proyectado con tan gran maestría que en él pueden verse y contemplarse fácilmente las guerras que, en el país que sea, preparan nuestros enemigos. No hay tierra tan lejana donde se fragüe una guerra, ni traición de gente alguna, que no veamos al momento. No tenemos menester de espía alguno que nos informe rápidamente de las noticias, ya que todo lo vemos en el espejo: nuestros enemigos y sus preparativos, nada se nos puede ocultar. De día y de noche, es la verdad, mantenemos junto al espejo tres mil hombres armados para guardarlo y evitar que lo roben por ardid, lo tiren al suelo o lo hagan añicos; y para que los enemigos no puedan acercársele, es bueno vigilarlo de cerca».

Entre los taoístas, el espejo mágico desvela la naturaleza real de las influencias maléficas, las aleja y protege contra ellas. De ahí que el Preste construyera un espejo gigante para poder ver el movimiento de sus enemigos y, consecuentemente, anularlos.

in Akasico.com

The second of November is the All Souls Day. Catholics, and some other Christian communities, shall be commemorating the dead.

The fact that this has been commemorated since long time, it’s unsurprising that non Catholics alike would be conscious of this day to remember their beloved ones. In fact, in matters as this there is little boundary observed. The feeling of loss, the longing for our departed is something that touches us deeply beyond our religious margins. It touches a human heart. And this sets people at one despite whatever their religious affiliations are. Hence, I can imagine how many other people are actually drawn despite themselves into such commemoration.

Some will go to pray at the tomb of their beloved departed or perform intimate gestures of devotion, like putting flowers. This is healing. To some extent, it is an encounter of the level of its own that brings somewhat consolation. If only all people had this privilege.

Many are the people who not only suffer the loss of their beloved ones but on top of that they have no place where they can visit them, speak to them and perform those intimate rituals of love for them. This is really a pity. Yes, to be so doubly deprived can be quite devastating.

The frantic combing of the cemetery that I fell in two year ago made me appreciate how the tomb can border between healing and breaking a person’s heart. I’m afraid there are many others who are afflicted like Cecilia.

Indeed, you appreciate water when the well runs dry. Then you learn to keep water jealously and use it sparingly. This is not just a nice phrase, certainly not; not after what I experienced on that day.

If you have a father, cherish him; if you still have a mother, cherish her. No matter how outdated their counsel may sound in your ears they have nonetheless not outlived their usefulness. You may perhaps not appreciate that today, but I guarantee you tomorrow you may hunger for a discourse no matter how empty, no matter how patronizing, no matter how archaic but so long it’s the words from the mouth of a person you know loves you –a parent. Perhaps the case of Cecilia can instruct you as it did to me.

It was a Tuesday afternoon, 2nd November 2005. I was in Kidal –northern region of Mali- where I had gone to visit the small Catholic community to celebrate with them the feast of All Souls. It was during that visit that a woman arrived in the family where I had been accommodated. There I got caught up in her drama.

The woman’s name was Cecilia. She came from Tessalit, another desert town, some 250km further north towards the border with Algeria. Cecilia came to Kidal in search of her father. Not many people could know him except few elderly people who spoke with dim memory of a judge who had worked there some 39 years before. They were of little help to Cecilia. They couldn’t tell her where she would find her father and talk to him.

That was the search that brought Cecilia to Madame Irene’s home. Madame Irene not only remembered the judge but she also had an idea, though not with certainty, where Cecilia would likely meet her father. That however entailed a good search. For Cecilia that was already something. Finally she had somewhere to start from. She got some hope. You should have been there to see how her face beamed with what seemed a mission-accomplished though just in sight. And for that encounter with the father; she just could not wait. By charity we were conscripted into that pilgrimage to her father though at the peak of the day’s heat of the Sahara.

As I remember that day my body twitches. With the temperature of 49˚c I had felt like I was being grilled under my clothes. At the same time I had felt animated by an incredible, internal energy which I just could not account for as we went different directions in that expanse cemetery, combing tombs. We were to read every single placard. For all that effort, pity for poor Cecilia, all was in vain; if only all tombs still had a poster.

Cecilia’s natural smiling face that had shone at the beginning of the search become agonized and fatigued. Yes, you just could not miss the effect of that chilling, dark cloud that suddenly reigned in the midst of that messaging heat. She was like a child excitedly running to welcome the upcoming father but only to be greeted with a cold shoulder; a complete refusal. Far from her hopes the day ended up in a miscarriage.

Cecilia is a teacher, wife and mother. She is married to a military man of some rank in the Malian army. She has two children. After I visited her later, I remained with an impression of a happy family. Nonetheless, deep down her there was still an emptiness; a longing.

Cecilia had never seen her father in her life. That is why that was going to be a big day for her. Certainly, she would not have met him; but standing before his tomb, seeing it, touching it, and kissing it would certainly have made all the difference.

Cecilia’s father had died tragically. He was a victim of the harsh conditions of the desert life. He had gone hunting with his friends where they got lost and their water reserve got dry. But the desert heat was no less relentless; there was no village or a stream where they would appease the thirst. And how long would they hold it? They became so parched that they just could not resist doing what they well knew was not the right way –they drank petrol. That was their end. When that happened, Cecilia was still in her mother’s womb.

After her father’s death, Cecilia’s mother moved to the southern part of Mali, Segou, where Cecilia was born, educated and started working. When she was later transferred to the north she took the opportunity to meet the father. That’s how I met her and got involved in her drama only to come out of it a little wiser.

I often received young people who came to talk to me. Most of them were tired of their parents who pontificated things to them. They felt their parents did not understand them and only restricted their freedom. Patronizing though some parents might be it’s often out of the best of intention –out of love for their children. While this conflict of generation gap is real and for sure can be annoying, nevertheless, young people need to be a little more objective and appreciate their parents’ good will.

Today, when I hear someone speaking ungratefully about their parents, there is this mantra that spontaneously plays on my mind: you will search my tomb, you will search my tomb, you will search my tomb. It always rings.

And thus the case of Cecilia makes me think of the families of the victims of genocide in Luanda, war in Angola, victims of war in the Congo, victims of September 11, the victims of the Iraq war, the victims of the Israel-Lebanese war, the numerous young Africans who die on the way to try their luck in Europe; some die parched in the desert and remain to be buried by wind while others are merely dropped in the sea like a stone. Many of such families have to anguish like Cecilia. Perhaps, this is but just one sign of how limited we humans are. As we walk the journey of life, often we bump into what we cannot surmount. We are face to face with our helplessness. This can be painful. However, there is a little consolation.

This commemoration of the dead is, though we go to the cemetery, however not about tombs. No matter the way our dear ones have fallen or no matter where their remains lie; like those whose tombs we know, our sentiment and prayer for them is the same. We love them. We hold them dearly in the memory of our hearts. May they all rest in eternal peace.

© Evans K. Chama 2007
A Missionary of Africa studying theology in Jerusalem
evans_chama@yahoo.com

The Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem, the name by which the Crusaders’ rule over the Holy Land is commonly known, lasted from 1099, when the Crusaders ”rescued Jerusalem from the yoke of the infidel,” as one contemporary account put it, to 1291, when the city of Acre was retaken by the Moslems. At its zenith the kingdom stretched from Beirut to Elath, from the Mediterranean to the Jordan and beyond.

Even though the kingdom was in a constant state of siege, a building boom of a magnitude rarely equaled in the land occurred during the period of Crusader rule. Despite man-made and natural disasters the Israeli landscape is still dotted with 12th- and 13th-century remains, and a visitor can soon learn to recognize the idiom of Crusader architecture in the Holy Land.

There were three types of construction: military, religious and civilian. Forts and castles, churches and monasteries, inns, markets and hospitals were built by the Crusaders to defend their holdings and to serve the needs of pilgrims. The style was basically Romanesque with some early Gothic elements; a few local motifs were introduced by native craftsmen.

In Jerusalem, the city that had beckoned from afar, Crusaders’ footprints abound. Capture of the city came after a five-week siege. The heat was intense; food and water were scarce, and from the seemingly impenetrable walls of the Holy City the Moslems taunted their foe. On Friday, July 15, 1099, Godfrey of Bouillon and his men finally scaled the wall and won the battle for Christendom. A terrible massacre ensued. Old men, women and children were slaughtered. The Jews, who had fought alongside the Moslems, were locked up in a synagogue and set on fire. Blood was flowing in the streets, ankle-deep.

Later that day, Godfrey, Tancred and the other leaders of the First Crusade made their way to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. They went barefoot, wrote one Crusader, ”through the holy places . . . where Jesus Christ the Saviour lived in the flesh. Devoutly they kissed the places where his feet had trod.” At the church they found evidence of the damage inflicted earlier in the century by the Egyptian Caliph el-Hakim. Soon, refurbishing of the church began; it was completed and celebrated in 1149, 50 years to the day after the Crusaders’ victory.

Unlike the interior, the facade has changed little since the 12th century. The double portal (the right one has been blocked since the days of Saladin, the Moslem ruler) and the two corresponding windows on the second floor are accented by three archivolts supported by engaged columns. The capitals with a foliage motif and the rosette-frieze were common to local architecture since the Byzantine period. The voussoirs - the evenly shaped stones in the arches - may have also been influenced by Eastern masons. The carved lintels of the portal, depicting scenes from the life of Jesus, have been removed to Jerusalem’s Rockefeller Museum for preservation. On the terraced roof, near the Ninth Station of the Cross, are the remains of the Crusader refectory and cloisters. The remains now surround a cluster of mud huts -the Ethiopian holding in the Holy Sepulcher - where old monks reside.

Southeast of the Holy Sepulcher are the Three Covered Bazaars, built to produce income for the Order of the Templars and the Church of St. Anne. Light enters the bazaars through apertures at the top of the groin vaults; the shops, still in use, are small and dark. The central bazaar, Suq el-Attarin, was known as Rue de Malquisinat (the Street of Bad Cooking) for the quality of the roasted meats sold to pilgrims there. Not all foods were poor, however. Oranges, peaches and bananas were available, along with a variety of breads, and local wines kept chilled in snow from Lebanon. Game - partridges, cranes, wild boar - was consumed by the Crusaders, and poultry could be purchased on nearby David Street, in a huge vaulted hall with massive piers - today’s vegetable market.

At the southern end of Suq el-Attarin begins the recently excavated Cardo, an elegant arcaded street from the Byzantine era. Shops on either side of the street, added some 600 years later by the Crusaders, have recently been been renovated to accommodate modern goods. Below street level, one can see remains of fortifications from the sixth and first centuries B.C., pieces in the mosaic that is Jerusalem, reminders of destruction and renewal.

East of the Cardo, on Misgav Ladach Road, is the partially restored Church of St. Mary of the Teutonic Knights. The church was established in 1128 to care for German pilgrims who might have felt unwelcome in the French-dominated Crusader Jerusalem. A German traveler in the 12th century described it as ”the German house upon which hardly any men who speak any other lan-guage bestow any benedictions.” The church, which had a hospital and a hospice attached to it, was the modest birthplace of the Teutonic Order, which later became so powerful that it conquered the state of Prussia and gave rise to its militaristic spirit.

The most beautiful Crusader church in Jerusalem is St. Anne, the traditional dwelling of Mary’s parents. It was turned into a madrasa, a religious school, by Saladin after his victory over the Crusaders in 1187, as is testified to by an inscription above the portal. Some seven centuries later, after the Crimean War, the Turks presented this building to the French Government, which committed it to the care of the White Fathers, a religious order.

Romanesque in style, built of white stone, it is pure and austere. The facade is elegant in its simplicity. A plain, triple-pointed arch marks the main portal; above it is a delicately carved molding. Only the top window is adorned, flanked by pillars and capitals. Six cruciform piers divide the interior into a nave and two aisles. The central apse creates a chevet, an unusual rounded projection in the exterior of the eastern wall. Light filters into the sparsely furnished building through a few clerestory windows. The acoustics in St. Anne are superb; to hear mass sung here - divine. (Mass is sung every morning at 6:30.) Some time after the conquest of Jerusalem, the Templars - the order charged with protecting pilgrims in the Holy Land - implanted themselves on the Temple Mount and refurbished the Mosque of Aksa. The Crusaders renamed it Templum Solomonis for Solomon’s Temple, which had stood on the Mount some 2,000 years before. The zigzag central arch in the entry porch is Crusader, as is the small octagonal edifice northwest of the Dome of the Rock. T hat building was turned into Templum Domini, and the octagonal structure served as its baptisary. Known today as the Dome of the Ascension, the former baptisary is a fine example of Crusader architecture.

If one leaves the Temple Mount through Bab el-Silsileh (Gate of the Chain in Arabic) one can see the twisted marble columns on either side of the gate, which probably come from a Crusader structure, as does the ”recycled” rose window in the water fountain across from the gate.

Before leaving Jerusalem one should visit the Citadel, an amalgamation of walls, towers and other fortifications. In the Crusaders’ period, as the city changed hands more than once, the Citadel often served as the defenders’ last stronghold. Nothing is left of the Latin Kings’ palace that stood nearby, and only a few architectural details from that era remain within the Citadel, but at its southwestern corner one can see the glacis and the outer wall of the fosse - the dry moat.

In the autumn of 1099, having fulfilled their vow to redeem Jerusalem, most of the Crusaders returned home. Those who stayed behind were known as the Franks - Christians of European, mostly French, origin. Noblemen, merchants, artisans, even peasants - most of the Franks settled in urban centers such as Jerusalem, Acre, Tiberias and Bethlehem. The country’s indigenous Christians detested the haughty Franks, who had replaced their clergy and liturgy in the churches. The Moslems who survived the First Crusade were mostly farmers who were allowed to continue to till the land and produce foodstuffs for the urban Franks. The Jewish population was almost completely eradicated by the Crusaders.

One of the main tasks of the 150,000 Franks (about a third of the total population) was to keep the highways safe for pilgrims. Since the pilgrims were in constant danger of Saracen attacks, the Franks built a strong network of forts and castles along the borders and on major routes and crossroads. These garrisons were strategically situated on mountain tops and within visual contact of each other; torches and homing pigeons were used to communicate. It was an effective early warning system.

Belvoir, a few miles south of the Sea of Galilee, is a fine example of a castrum, as a small Crusader fort was known. Known in Hebrew as Kochav Hayarden (Star of the Jordan), it commands a sweeping view of Mounts Hermon and Tabor, the Golan, the Sea of Galilee and the Yarmuk and Jordan Valleys. From this fort one could observe any movement on the nearby road, one of the ancient trade routes from Egypt to Damascus, which crosses the Jordan near Beit She’an. Belvoir was built in the middle of the 12th century and served the Knights of St. John, also known as the Order of the Hospitalers. As their name implies, this order was founded to minister to the sick, but later, alongside the Templars, they also guarded the highways and fought the Saracens, the Moslem foe.

Belvoir, which was meant to withstand prolonged sieges, is a double fort. The outer portion is a rectangle, 330 by 440 feet long. Square towers stand at the four corners and at regular intervals in between. Entry is over a culvert and through a low, fortified gate. Inside is a courtyard with arcaded corridors that used to house stables and storage areas. The inner fort, also protected by thick walls and corner towers, is built around an open court where one can still see the Hospitalers’ dining quarters, kitchen, ovens and the steps that led to a chapel and bedrooms. The bedrooms are now gone, as is the upper part of the keep.

Belvoir is built of black basalt blocks with white limestone used to accentuate certain vaults and arches. At the crumbling southwestern corner of the moat a typical Crusader building method can be seen: uniformly cut ashlars form both the inside and outside faces of the wall while the middle is filled with rubble and cement. The walls are up to 10 feet wide. Hidden in the outer walls are several staircases leading down to posterns in the moat from which sudden attacks could be launched.

Belvoir served the Hospitalers well until the time of Saladin, to whom it surrendered in 1189, after a year-and-a-half-long siege. In the 1220’s, the fort was partially destroyed by Saladin’s nephew, el-Malek el Mu’azzam.

Before leaving, the visitor might look again at the view and listen to the whispering breezes that gave Belvoir its Arabic name - Kaukab el-Hawa (Star of the Winds).

Keeping the sea lanes open was of vital importance to the Franks, who depended on arms, supplies and men from Europe. Acre, on the coast just north of Haifa, with its natural harbor, was second only to Jerusalem in its importance to the Latin Kingdom. The city, which is at least 4,000 years old, was famous since Phoenician times for its glass and for the dye extracted from the purple murex, a local snail. Alexander the Great stopped here, as did St. Peter and Maimonides - on separate occasions, of course.

King Baldwin I captured the city in 1104. Like other Mediterranean coastal cities, Acre was conquered with the help of Italian merchant fleets. For their assistance, commercial and other privileges were granted to the merchants; Venetians, Genoese, Pisans and Amalfians occupied large sections of Acre. The Orders of the Templars and the Hospitalers dominated the rest of the city, which, noted a contemporary visitor, ”is so populous as to surpass all the rest.” ”It receives all the merchant ships and . . . all the pilgrims for Christ’s sake