The Rozabal Line Part 8

'What is the temple like?'

'There are thousands of priests and scholars. There is smoke from the pyres as well as the screaming of terrified beasts that are about to be sacrificed. The abattoir smells terrible and there is blood everywhere.'

'How did you come to Jerusalem?'

'Caravan. Goods come in caravans from Samaria, Syria, Egypt, Nabatea, Arabia and Persia. Yerushalem is very cosmo-politan. Greek, Aramaic and Hebrew are spoken here.'

'Are the Romans in charge of the city?'

'Yes, but they do not really control things. In one of the corners of the temple is the Antonia, the great Roman garrison that houses about 3,000 soldiers. Many do not like what Herod has done by virtually demolishing the old temple. He has more or less built a Roman temple. People seem to hate being under Roman rule.'

'Which religions are under Roman rule?'

'Most of the temple elite consists of the Sadducees and the Pharisees. The Zealots are rather militant in nature whereas the Essenes live in monastic groups outside the city. There is a lot of tension among these groups.'

'What is causing the crowds on the streets?'

'I know the reason . . . I saw it myself. Caiphas, the high priest of the Sanhedrin, has asked Pontius Pilate to crucify this man who is bleeding. People are lining up in the streets to see him. He is being made to carry his crossbeam to Golgotha. The crowds are shouting, "Barabbas! We want Barabbas released!"'

'Anything else?'

'Vincent, you are again slipping into a language I cannot understand. What did you just say?'

'Greek! They are calling me a Jew in a contemptuous way and are asking me to help him with the cross.'

'Who is telling you this?'

'The Roman soldiers coming down the Mount of Olives.'

'What are you doing?'

'I am lifting up the crossbeam for him. I can see the man's face and body. He has been beaten so savagely that his features have been rendered almost indistinguishable. He is stooping even though I am now taking the entire load of the crossbeam. He is trying to say something to me.'

'What?'

'Nayim mayod Simon. Toda. Hashem Yaazor!'

'You're again speaking in an alien language. I need you to float above the scene so that you can be a neutral observer. Now, what is he saying?'

'Nice to meet you, Simon. Thank you. G.o.d shall help. It's Hebrew. How in heaven's name does he know my name?'

'What else can you see around you?'

'The Jewish leaders. They seem to be very excited. They are hurling insults at him. Some women are crying. He is saying to them, "Daughters of Jerusalem, stop weeping for me. On the contrary, weep for yourselves and for your children! In the days ahead the childless woman will be considered lucky. When the end time comes, men and women will be calling on mountains and the hills to cover them. If they do this when the tree is green, what will they not do when it is dry?"'

'What else can you see or hear?'

'Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani.'

'What are you saying, Vincent? What does that mean?' asked Terry.

Vincent continued animatedly. 'I have seen his agony as the hammers pound nails through his body. It's excruciatingly painful when the crossbeam is hoisted by ropes up the vertical post. They have placed two criminals on either side of him.'

Vincent had been in a hypnotic state for close to an hour. Terry was sweating profusely and his pulse was racing. Could this be real? A person in the present day having seen Jesus upfront and alive in a previous life?

'"My G.o.d, my G.o.d, why hast thou forsaken me?" is what he is saying. They have put a sign over his head.'

'What does the sign read?'

'Iesous o Nazoraios...o...b..sileus ton Ioudaion.'

'What is that?'

'Greek. Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews.'

'What else can you see?'

'The soldiers are dividing his clothes among themselves. The crowd is taunting him. They say that he saved others but cannot save himself.'

'Is he replying to them?'

'What's that?'

'Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.'

'What else does he say?'

'Okay. To whom is he saying that and what does it mean?'

'He is talking to one of the criminals. He is promising him that he will take him to Paradise. Two men are sharing a private joke near the cross. One man is commenting that the crucified king of Jews is calling for Elijah. The other fellow is saying, "Let's stay and see if Elijah helps him down!"'

'Anything else?'

'He's thirsty. They aren't giving him water. They are putting something that looks like vinegar. Is it vinegar? I can't quite make out. No wait, it's a combination of a couple of things that they are putting on the sponge at the end of a long stick. They are now putting it to his lips. He's groaning. Wait! He's saying something . . . "Father, I commit my spirit to your hands. It is finished." He seems to have pa.s.sed out.'

'Is he dead?'

'I can't be sure. He has definitely fainted. He certainly looks dead. The centurion seems nervous. "Surely that good man was a son of G.o.d," he is saying. The crowd that has been standing around is now beating their chests with their fists. They are going away.'

'So everyone is leaving?'

'Since it's the day of preparation for the Pa.s.sover, the temple clergy doesn't seem to want the bodies to stay on the crosses over the Sabbath. They've sent representatives to Pilate to ask that the legs of the crucified men be broken so as to bring death quickly. This will allow for their bodies to be removed in good time.'

'Are they breaking the legs?'

'They have broken the legs of the two criminals but they are checking to see whether Jesus is dead. One of the soldiers is raising his spear and thrusting it into Jesus's side . . . blood and water! He must be alive for blood to spurt like that! They seem to think he's dead. "No point breaking the legs of a dead man," they're saying.'

'Where are you?'

'I am standing a little distance away. Near me are his mother and Mary Magdalene. I'm going closer to the cross. I want to see his condition. What's that smell? It isn't vinegar. It's some sort of opium . . . opium and belladonna? I can't be sure.'

'What time is it?'

'It's evening. I'm hanging around to see what happens. There's this rich man called Joseph of Arimathea. He's been to Pilate and has obtained permission to take down the body and bury it. I wonder whether he realises that the man could be alive?'

'Who is this Joseph?'

'Well, the people here say that he's a secret follower of Jesus. He's also very rich and has his way with Pilate. Pilate was apparently quite surprised that Jesus died so quickly. I wonder whether he knows anything?'

'What's happening now?'

'They're carrying the body to a tomb that Joseph has hewn from a rock close to Golgotha. It's quite surprising that Pilate has allowed them to bury the body . . . Roman law does not allow for burial of crucified men. Joseph and another man, Nicodemus, are taking the body down. They have brought a long linen winding- cloth and about a hundred pounds of crushed myrrh and aloe vera.'

Pittsburgh, USA, 2004 The scientists of the University of Pittsburgh finally made the breakthrough in 2004. They proved that an extract from the leaves of aloe vera could preserve organ function in rats that had lost ma.s.sive amounts of blood. Indications were that aloe vera could possibly end up becoming the ideal treatment for battle wounds because the extract could help buy time until blood became available. Accelerated loss of blood was quite difficult to replenish rapidly and this often led to organ failure. Aloe vera could step in at such times.

Dr Mitch.e.l.l Fink, the author of the Pittsburgh study, formally indicated that the study revealed that when the human body lost large quant.i.ties of blood, it would go into haemorrhage shock because blood would get diverted from the rest of the body to critical organs such as the heart, brain and liver. This would cause a drop in blood pressure.

The University of Pittsburgh team found that the juice of aloe vera leaves actually reduced the force required by blood to flow through blood vessels, thus increasing the chances of survival. Some of these properties had been known to Indian sages since 1400 B.C.

Northern India, 1400 B.C.

The great sage, Vyasa, was writing on Ayurveda-the 'science of life'-by combining relevant medical texts from various ancient Indian books of wisdom. The sage was presently engrossed in the properties of a herb called heerabol. Heerabol had a long history of therapeutic use in Ayurveda; it was routinely used to treat inflammations and infections.

The uses of heerabol were later introduced by Ayurveda into the Chinese and Tibetan medicinal systems during the seventh century. The Gyu-zhi, or the 'Four Tantras', was one of the first Indian medical texts to be translated into Tibetan. As a result, in Tibetan and Chinese medicine, heerabol began to be used in the treatment of impact injuries, wounds, incisions and bone pain.

Subsequent research by the Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Centre found that heerabol had anti-inflammatory and antipyretic properties when used on mice. According to the Centre, a const.i.tuent of heerabol was a potent inhibitor of certain cancers. The scientific name for heerabol is commiphora molmol. It is also known by its more common name, myrrh.

'Joseph and another man, Nicodemus, are taking the body down. They have brought a long linen winding-cloth and about a hundred pounds of crushed myrrh and aloe vera.'

London, UK, 2012 Vincent was still in his hotel room, semi-reclined on the bed. The pillows propping him up were damp from his perspiration. Terry continued to remain frozen on the chair next to the bed, and Martha was waiting downstairs in the hotel lounge.

The regression session had been going on for over an hour, and even though Terry was overwhelmed with the richness of detail that Vincent had been able to recall, he realised that he needed to terminate the session and continue it another day, for the sake of his own health as well as for Vincent's well-being.

Terry began the process of bringing Vincent back into the present. 'Vincent, it's time for you to return to waking consciousness. I will now start counting upwards from one to ten. Let each incremental number awaken you more. By the time I reach ten, you will open your eyes and be fully awake, remembering everything that you saw . . . one . . . two . . . three . . . you're awakening . . . four . . . five . . . six . . . you're feeling good . . . seven . . . eight . . . you're nearly awake now . . . nine . . . ten . . . you can now open your eyes. You are now fully awake and are fully in control of your body and mind.'

Vincent's eyes adjusted themselves to the dimly lit room. It had become dark outside and the light that had been filtering in through the window when they had started the session was no longer available. Terry reached out to the bedside lamp and switched it on.

'So, how do you feel?' asked Terry.

Vincent's words came gushing out, 'Awesome! Terry, I am truly blessed to have been able to see the Lord. I had only read about the cross-bearer Simon of Cyrene, but I'd never ever imagined that I could have been that person in a previous life. I am truly blessed. Thank you for helping me experience this.'

Terry thought for a moment and then, lowering his voice, he said, 'Vincent, I must tell you I am as excited as you are. I have never been through a more nail-biting regression therapy session than the one I just put you through. It's only natural that you will want to share this experience with others. My advice is that you should be selective in choosing the people you share this information with. You should be prepared that many will think you a lunatic if you tell them what you just experienced.'

'Thanks for the advice . . . tell you what, let's go someplace where we can have a drink and I can share this with Nana!' said Vincent, excitedly kicking his feet off the bed and picking up his jacket that lay folded on the armchair in the corner.

Terry stopped him. From his pocket he took out a folded envelope and handed it over to Vincent. On the face of the envelope were two words, 'Bom Jesus'.

Vincent was confused. 'What's this?' he asked.

Terry replied, 'I have spent the last few years studying virtually every religion around the globe. Inside this envelope is a doc.u.ment that will have dramatic consequences for the world. I do not expect you to understand it. Just keep it safe and promise me that you will research it further in the event that your regression experiences point you in a certain direction. Having held you back from the truth in a previous life as your father, I need to ensure that the truth prevails in this lifetime! I can't let sleeping dogs lie, my friend!'

Even though Martha was curious about the outcome of the regression session, she suppressed her eagerness. The three of them headed to the White Horse. The White Horse, located at Parsons Green, was probably London's best pub, precisely because most Londoners did not know about it. The pub's cellar man, Mark Dorber, was internationally acknowledged as one of the best artists in the storage and serving of English casked beer. The pub's menu was wide, but the hot favourites were bangers and mash, red bean soup and goat's cheese salad. The pub was one of Terry's regular haunts.Having settled in and ordered their drinks and food, Martha finally spoke, 'Well, Vincent, how did it go?'

Vincent recounted what he had seen during the hour-long session that Terry had put him through. Martha was wide-eyed with amazement as he attempted to recall each detail between gulps of Gales Trafalgar, a deep amber beer. Vincent couldn't help pondering over the fact that Jewish burial customs had not changed in almost 3,500 years and that Jewish burial simply involved washing the body and burying it. Embalming the body with herbs such as aloe vera and myrrh was never employed.

So why were crushed myrrh and aloe vera used on Jesus after he was taken down from the cross? And why did the soured-wine-vinegar sponge smell of opium and belladonna? Why was Pontius Pilate willing to give the body of Jesus to the influential Joseph, even though Roman law did not allow those sentenced to crucifixion to be given a burial?

There were just too many questions and not enough answers. 'I have to discuss this with someone who can possibly help me reconcile what I have just seen with my faith,' thought Vincent. He helped himself to another succulent sausage with creamy mashed potatoes and thought of his friend, Thomas Manning.

Thomas Manning and Vincent had attended St Joseph's seminary together and had been ordained to the priesthood at the same time. When Vincent's parents died, it was Thomas who had taken care of all the funeral arrangements. He had continued to visit Vincent each day in the hospital while he was recovering. Yes, Thomas was just the person to give him direction and advice. But hadn't he seen Thomas Manning in Ireland in a previous life? Would he be doing the right thing by trusting him? Yes, he was sure he could trust Thomas-a past life incident was certainly no reason to mistrust someone.

As they were getting up from their table, they saw a pet.i.te j.a.panese woman sitting, along with a j.a.panese man, at a table by the window. She was sipping red wine and speaking rather softly, despite the din of the noisy customers. Vincent couldn't help thinking to himself: 'What a delightful creature!'

He did not notice her fixed gaze on Terry while they were inside the restaurant. He also did not notice her following Terry as he headed over to the university to pick up some reference material from the library later in the evening. Most significantly, he did not notice his aunt, Martha, staring intently at the young j.a.panese woman. Just like he'd never noticed the barely perceptible little tattoo on his aunt's wrist.

Chapter Ten.

Ireland, 1864 The Great Famine of Ireland had been caused by the failure of a single crop, the potato, which was the staple diet of Irish peasantry. Even though Catholic peasants were able to grow enough potatoes, most of their crop had to be sold off in order to pay the exorbitant land rents that were demanded by the Protestant tax collectors. One of the poor Catholic families that fell victim to the Great Famine was the ill.u.s.trious o Mainnin clan, descendants of Mainnin, a great chieftain of Connacht. They were left with no alternative but to immigrate to America in 1864-all because of the d.a.m.ned spud!

The Catholics who left Ireland and arrived in America never forgot the hunger that they had experienced. They clung to their faith with fervent devotion but they also clung to their hatred of the Protestant minority which had caused their hunger in the first place.

Middle Village, New York, USA, 1968 One could not escape death in Middle Village. It was a neighbourhood in west-central Queens that had grown precisely because of the cemetery business. Middle Village had begun as a cl.u.s.ter of English families and had derived its name because of its central position between Williamsburgh and the Jamaica Turnpike. In 1879, St John Cemetery had been established just east of 80th Street by the Roman Catholic Church. The hamlet's economic progress had soon become inextricably linked to death.

Ninety years later, Thomas Manning had been born to parents who lived in a simple nondescript house along Metropolitan and 69th Street. Thomas's father worked for The Ridgewood Times, the local newspaper, which had been around since 1908. Their family name Manning was simply the English equivalent of the Gaelic o Mainnin.

In 1853, the bishop of New York had observed that there were many Catholics who were without a church in the Middle Village area. He had commenced the construction of St Margaret's Church and school in 1860. Thomas Manning would be baptised here in 1968.

The church and school would become the centre of Thomas Manning's early years growing up in Middle Village. His favourite teacher, who taught the students science, economics and mathematics, made sure that he inculcated the right values among his wards. His favourite lessons and teachings were taken from a book of 999 sayings, or maxims.The book of 999 maxims, ent.i.tled The Way had been written by Josemaria Escriva, the Spanish priest who had founded Opus Dei. Yes, Thomas Manning was a very good student.

Einsiedeln, Switzerland, 1988 In fact, Thomas Manning was an excellent student. After preaching for several years at St Catherine in Virginia, Father Thomas Manning had settled down in Switzerland in the Benedictine abbey of Einsiedeln some years later. Even now, the book of 999 maxims continued to remain by his bedside. His affiliation to the Priestly Society of the Holy Cross continued to be strong-much like the foundations of Einsiedeln. Father Thomas Manning had morphed into Brother Thomas Manning.

Einsiedeln traced its origins back to A.D. 835 when Meinrad, a Benedictine monk, had withdrawn as a hermit into the Dark Forest. Many more hermits had followed him. Around a century later, Eberhard, a priest from Strasbourg, had a.s.sembled the hermits into a monastic community and had founded the Benedictine monastery of Einsiedeln.

Einsiedeln would eventually become extremely important for Swiss Catholicism as also an international site of pilgrimage. Einsiedeln would spur the creation of monastic foundations in North and South America, some of which would go on to become significantly bigger than Einsiedeln itself.

In fact, it was one of these American foundations that had found Thomas Manning and arranged for him to meet Cardinal Alberto Valerio in Italy. Valerio had discreetly spoken to the master of Einsiedeln and ensured that the Oedipus trust had its way in recruiting the right man for the job.

When Manning had first arrived in Einsiedeln, it had taken him a while to become acquainted with daily monastic prayer and work. This had been followed by a novitiate year during which he was introduced to the Rule of St Benedict, monastic spirituality, prayer, and community life. He then took vows for three years. During these three years, he was required to study either philosophy and theology or 'work in his craft'.

Brother Manning had chosen to apply his knowledge of mathematics and economics to better manage the finances of the monastery. Unknown to the other brothers of Einsiedeln, he was also managing several secret numbered accounts in Zurich for his mentor, Cardinal Alberto Valerio. It was indeed true that it was no longer sufficient to slip into a monk's habit and sing the Gloria Patri. The skills required by Brother Manning were of an altogether different magnitude.

London, UK, 2012 In the UK, the commonly accepted joke was that The Times was read by the people who ran the country; the Mirror was read by people who thought they ran the country; the Guardian was read by the people who only thought about running the country; the Mail was read by the wives of the people who ran the country; the Daily Telegraph was read by the people who thought that the country needed to be run by another country; the Express by those who were convinced that, indeed, it was; and the Sun was read by people who couldn't care less who ran the country as long as the naked girl on page three had big t.i.tS.