Skeleton 03 - The Constantine Codex (45 page)

“Maybe because they’re more intelligent than their idols,” Jon remarked. “Many of them read, you know, and our news magazines have reprinted large sections of Second Acts—and all of Mark’s ending—so they can see for themselves how beautifully it fits with the biblical record.”

“True enough. But now for the pièce de résistance, Jon. I’ve saved the best for last.” Ferris had a huge grin on his face. “Here’s how the AP covered a comment by someone you know. Name happens to be Melvin Morris Merton.”

Jon groaned. “Here we go again. So
that’s
why the AP called me for a statement yesterday. And what did our manic minister have to say this time?”

“Read and enjoy.” He thrust page two of the morning
New York Times
onto Jon’s desk. He picked it up and read:

San Antonio, TX (AP)—The Rev. Melvin Morris Merton denounced the Constantine Codex this past Sunday in a sermon during his current Texas crusade. He called the document a fraud, and Professor Jonathan and Shannon Weber, the discoverers, “aiders and abettors of fraud, perhaps even the hoaxers themselves.”

“The so-called Second Acts isn’t even an original concept,” Merton said. “In 1801, a man named C. S. Sonnini translated and published in London an original Greek manuscript that has the concluding material of Acts in the form of a chapter 29. Scholars have long been looking for such a document, so it seems that Dr. Weber has conveniently ‘provided’ another one. Christians should take this one no more seriously than other frauds perpetrated upon the church. I have no doubt that Sonnini’s ‘Acts 29’ is far more ‘authentic’ than what Professor Weber claims to have found.

“This is just another sign that Christ will return very soon,” Merton said. “One of the most important markers that the end is near will be when the Antichrist—or people doing the work of the Antichrist like Professor Weber—try to deceive the public.”

Neither Professor Jonathan Weber nor his wife Shannon could be reached for comment at this time, although sources assume they are still in the Greater Boston area.

“What a pile of garbage!” Jon said as he finished the piece. “Can’t anyone put a muzzle on that braying donkey? Why in the world would the AP and the
Times
take that man seriously?”

“Probably because you didn’t return the AP’s call.”

“Good point, Dick. I’m on it.”

Jon opened his laptop and hammered out a statement.

In an Associated Press dispatch yesterday from San Antonio, the Rev. Melvin Morris Merton tried to impugn the authenticity of the Constantine Codex by claiming that a manuscript translation by C. S. Sonnini from the nineteenth century, titled “Acts 29,” had greater validity. No scholar in the world has taken the Sonnini document seriously, since it has St. Paul visiting Britain, where he meets druids who claim descent from Hebrews who were in Egyptian bondage. Supposedly Paul then traveled to Gaul, Belgium, and finally Switzerland, where he prayed at Mount Pilatus that God would send a sign proving that Pontius Pilate committed suicide there. “Acts 29” goes on to claim that a great earthquake followed, waters of a lake in the mountain turned into the form of Jesus on the cross, and a voice from heaven absolved Pilate of guilt over his role on Good Friday.

If Reverend Merton prefers to believe this clumsy forgery rather than the Constantine Codex, he is welcome to it. His latest attack on my wife Shannon and me in connection with the codex does not merely border on libel but is fully libelous in fact. Considering the source, however, I will not exert a moment’s effort in filing a suit. Reverend Merton’s sad record speaks for itself, and I extend my sympathy to all his followers.

“What say, Richard? Approve?”

Ferris read the screen on Jon’s laptop, chuckled, and gave him a thumbs-up.

“Then it’s enough for that flake. What I really wanted to do was quote an old Chinese proverb as a bit of advice for Merton: ‘It is better to let people think you are a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.’”

While Merton’s negative responses were frivolous, others were not. Most criticism came from responsible conservative Christian theologians who were not disputing the authenticity of the codex, but who worried lest the new material be included in the Canon. Opening the Canon would set a dreadful precedent, they argued, and could lead to “hopelessly subjective tampering with God’s Word,” as one of them wrote. “Our present Bible has served us well for the past two thousand years, so there’s no need to change it now.”

Jon, Shannon, and the ICO made no attempt to respond to such informed concern, since the issue was entirely out of their hands and was instead something that time and the global church would have to decide. They did, however, notice a powerful swelling support for calling an ecumenical church council to discuss the issue.

The swell became a near tidal wave two months later when Monsignor Kevin Sullivan served as Vatican spokesman at a much-heralded press conference in Rome. He began by reporting that archaeologists had returned to the basilica of St. Paul to resume work on what was believed to be the tomb of the great apostle. His next statements would produce world headlines.

“A thin probe was inserted through a small hole in the lid of the marble sarcophagus through which pilgrims used to drop petitions. Because the hole had since been mortared over, drilling was necessary. In the words of Vatican archaeologist Giuseppe Montini, ‘We drilled a hole only where there had been a hole.’ Strobe photography through small cameras attached to the probe revealed much of the interior, which showed skeletal remains partially covered with purple linen that was laminated with gold trim, some of which the probe was also able to retrieve. Small bone fragments were also recovered, which were then subject to radiocarbon testing. The tests revealed an age of about eighteen hundred to nineteen hundred years, thus a provenance from the first or second century.

“This is powerful evidence not only that the mortal remains of the apostle Paul are inside, but it also confirms, and is confirmed by, the recently discovered manuscript titled Second Acts within the Constantinian Codex. The last lines in that document tell of the execution of the apostle Paul, his burial in a purple cloak near the Ostian Way, and even the detail regarding a wooden cross placed on his chest. Such a cross was indeed discovered atop the sternum of skeletal remains in the sarcophagus.

“Furthermore, the skull and highest neck vertebrae in these remains are separated from the rest of the spinal column, testifying to death by decapitation, exactly as church tradition and, most recently, the Constantinian Codex have indicated.

“Accordingly, church tradition and archaeology have now confirmed both the identity of the skeletal remains and the authenticity of this newly discovered text. This is indeed a marvelous day in the history of Christianity!”

Over the next months, a prodigious number of scholarly papers dealing with the Constantine Codex were read at special theological conferences across the world. Just as the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls spawned entire libraries of monographs, dissertations, articles, books, commentaries, and indices, so the codex soon became the central focus of academic attention.

Jon and Shannon had to curb overzealous colleagues in the ICO who were pleading with them to become publicly proactive in the gathering momentum to have the new codex material admitted into the Canon. They steadfastly refused because it would detract from the objectivity of their discovery were they to declare, in effect, “We discovered this material, and now we want it in the Bible.”

Accordingly, news several months later greeted them as a shock, albeit a happy one. The Vatican in Rome and the Ecumenical Patriarchate in Istanbul made the announcement simultaneously at noon on September 15 (1 p.m. in Istanbul). His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI and His All Holiness Patriarch Bartholomew II invited world Christendom to an ecumenical council to be held in the city of Jerusalem beginning on March 15, six months hence. The conclave would be known officially as the Ecumenical Council of Jerusalem. The purpose of the council was to discuss matters involving the canon of the New Testament, although other items of general concern to Christianity would also be part of the agenda.

Jon was on the phone to Kevin Sullivan the moment he finished reading the announcement, which had flashed across his computer screen, courtesy of Reuters.

“Thanks for letting me know about this in advance, Kevin,” Jon said in what passed for a tone of annoyance, whether feigned or genuine.

“Sorry, Jon. I was going to call you this evening, since I thought the announcement wouldn’t come until tomorrow. Benedict sometimes does things without the benefit of my advice.”

Jon chuckled. “Not a problem! So it’s
really
going to happen, is it? But why Jerusalem and not Rome?”

“Well, we had the last one—Vatican III—so it was time for the East—Constantinople. But Muslim Istanbul is hardly the best place on earth for a great Christian gathering, is it? Jerusalem’s in the East, and Israelis are a shade more hospitable to Christians.”

“Figures. But now to the big question, Kev: format?”

“You’ll be glad to know that we’re following the suggestion you made the last time I was in the U.S., just before I had to fly back to Rome.”

“You mean the ‘Logan Plan’?”

“The same. Remember, I wanted to call it the ‘Weber Plan,’ but in your great humility, you deflected the name to that of the airport instead?”

“That’s right, Kev; I’m famous for my humility!”

Both chuckled at the oxymoron.

“Well, we’re going to use that plan,” Kevin continued. “All participating church bodies will be assured that any decisions made by the Ecumenical Council of Jerusalem will be advisory only, not binding. If individual church bodies wish to endorse them officially or not is up to them.”

“Fabulous. It’s really the best way to go. We agreed that the new council will not have the overpowering authority of the great ecumenical councils of the past, or the smaller delegations across the world could get paranoid.”

“Exactly. And yet decisions by the council will have major importance for all of Christendom since most of the world’s Christian church bodies will be represented.”

“True enough. Well, it looks like you’ll be busy again with the invitation list, no?”

“You’ve got
that
right, but using the list for Vatican III as a template should be helpful.”

Jon thought for a moment. “Wait, it should really be easier, right? Last time the heads of state and many others came to Vatican III. This time it’ll be only churchmen and scholars, right?”

“Right. And of course, you’ll be there, Jon, won’t you? And Shannon?”

“We haven’t been invited . . .”

“You are now, you blazing buffoon! Oh, and a personal message from His Holiness: in the name of the See of Rome and all over whom he has supervision, Benedict extends profound thanks to you and Shannon.”

“And our greetings, no, blessings to him!”

“By the way, it’s looking good for opening the Canon, so far as Catholics are concerned. I haven’t heard much negative flak, even from our rigorists.”

“Wow! That’s a happy surprise. And the Eastern Church seems favorably disposed too.”

“So! Do you really think our Bible will expand just a bit?”

“That, my friend, is for the Ecumenical Council of Jerusalem to decide.”