“Thank you, Tómas.” DeCaro was Peter’s mentor and closest friend in a world where friends were as important as they were rare. While he was on a first-name basis with him in private, he would have never called him Tómas had he known they were not alone. Peter startled when he realized that there was another man in the room, as Cardinal Marcelo Barberini rounded the corner from the antechamber.
“Father Healy, a pleasure to see you.” Cardinal Barberini held out his hand to Peter, who shook it warmly. Barberini was a leader on the committee, one of those few who maintained silence most of the time, a listener who appeared to be struggling with some of the larger issues. He was also a very high-ranking member of the papal inner circle. Peter was suddenly very nervous.
“Sit down, my friends, sit down.” DeCaro closed the doors on both sides of the room, ensuring their privacy, before joining them in one of the soft leather armchairs that made up his meeting space. “Peter, for the moment what happens in this room has to be absolutely confidential. But I have brought Marcelo here to talk to you today about some recent activity in the Arques case.”
DeCaro had been involved in the Arques Gospel case since the beginning, had even come to the château after the discovery to meet with Maureen and to provide support and counsel to her. He was completely convinced of the authenticity of the Magdalene Gospel. More than anyone, Tómas DeCaro had reason to understand the importance of these documents. With the authority of his rank, he had access to materials in the Vatican that most of the world could not even dream about.
“As you are more than aware,” DeCaro continued, “there are members of the committee who are not aligned with the idea that this gospel could be authentic, regardless of the evidence that proves it to be so. While your presentations have been excellent and thorough, in many ways they served only to remind the more conservative members of our committee just how controversial and potentially dangerous this version of events may be.”
Peter nodded but didn’t comment. Best to see where this was heading before making any statements in front of Barberini, who was still an unknown quantity.
Barberini, a pudgy little man with a pleasant, ruddy face, sat forward in his seat. “Father Healy, I am very distressed at the current turn the proceedings are taking. There is far more focus on how best to shield this material from anyone outside the council than there is on authenticating it.”
Peter spoke carefully. “And you mean by shielding it…”
DeCaro leaned toward Peter reassuringly. “You may speak freely here, son. Marcelo is…one of us.”
Peter was grateful for the confirmation and continued his thought. “That they want to bury it.”
Barberini nodded. “I’m afraid that’s true. I am gravely concerned that this most important document may never see the light of day. Worse, I believe that there are those among us who may even be willing to destroy it completely and claim it never existed.”
Peter ran his hands over his face in exasperation. This was his greatest fear come to life.
“Don’t despair yet, Peter. This isn’t over,” Barberini said.
DeCaro continued the thought. “But the three of us have to determine, right here and right now, who our master is. Do we serve a council of fallible human beings who are allowing their earthly concerns to dominate their decisions, or do we serve our Lord Jesus Christ? And if we serve our Lord Jesus Christ, and his truth, do we not have an obligation, no matter what the odds, to fight for that truth? Any way we may have to?”
Cardinal Barberini surprised Peter as his speech became more impassioned. “These men whom we call our brothers cause me to weep for them. They wear the garments of their power and they stand for spiritual authority. But somewhere, for all that they are good men, they became lost. They claim their holiness, and yet embody none of the love, none of the understanding. I sometimes think to myself, when we are in committee, ‘What would our Lord say to these men if he were in this room with us today?’ And I have no answer. Only sorrow.”
The three of them contemplated in silence for a moment. Each of them had felt this same growing sense of sadness over the last year. Peter broke the moment to ask a question that had been on his mind since his meeting at the Confraternity of the Holy Apparition. “Where is Girolamo de Pazzi in all this?”
“Well, as you know he isn’t a part of the committee, nor would he want to be. He is an old man, Peter, and one with a very specific vocation, which is to celebrate the apparitions of our Lady. He can’t be bothered with committee business, although I believe he is interested in Maureen because of her visions. That is his passion and his expertise.”
“Do you trust him? Should I?”
DeCaro shrugged. “He has never given me a reason not to trust him, for all that he is a conservative. I believe him to be perfectly harmless. But that said…I’m not sure that I entirely trust anyone who isn’t in this room.”
“This may become the ultimate test of faith for all of us,” Barberini said softly. “We will have to be very careful and canny about the steps we choose to take to protect the Arques Gospel. It may require us to participate in…guerrilla tactics.”
Peter was shocked to hear such insurgency from this little man with the sweet face whom he had always viewed as quiet and unassuming. He said nothing but looked to DeCaro, who added, “We may be forced to take the originals out of the Vatican. And if we do, we will not be welcome here.”
“For Tómas and myself,” Barberini said with a sigh, “this life is all that we have ever known.”
“And yet,” DeCaro added, “in many ways we have always known that this day and time would come. We were prepared for this from the time we were boys. We just didn’t know what course it would take. But we all chose our destinies, long ago when we made our promises to God. Now comes the time to remember, for all of us.”
In Alexandria, Joseph brought the holy family to shelter in the home of a great man, a Roman who was called Maximinus. Joseph had known him many years from their shared business in the tin trade and trusted him. Maximinus was an exile from Rome, a refugee in his own way. He knew the dangers of Roman persecution all too well and had great compassion for those who had suffered from it.
Madonna Magdalena and her children arrived at his home exhausted by the journey and nearly overcome with distress. He welcomed them with kindness and ensured that the great lady knew only comfort in her days of confinement.
Maximinus had learned much from the mystery schools in Egypt, and he was a man hungry for learning, for wisdom, and for the truth. He developed a deep friendship and understanding with our Lady during this time, as the Nazarene Way of Love had many traditions that had come from this rich land. They had much to talk about and to learn from each other, and the bond that formed between Magdalena and Maximinus would become unique and enduring.
Maximinus had endured great tragedy and suffering in his life, as his own wife and baby had perished from childbed fever when they were forced to flee Rome and live in exile. Thus it was that he ensured that the finest midwife in Alexandria was brought in to care for Magdalena at the time of delivery. Sarai, the Egyptian priestess, delivered the holy infant, who would be known as Yeshua-David in safety and health and by the grace of God.
Both Joseph of Arimathea and the Roman Maximinus provided care for this infant, as well as for the other holy children. During their time in Alexandria, Maria Magdalena began to instruct Maximinus directly from the Book of Love, and he became the most devoted convert to the teachings of the Way.
When the time came for the holy family to leave Alexandria for their destiny in Gaul, Maximinus insisted on accompanying them. This he did, and he never left. For the remainder of Magdalena’s long life, he was her protector and companion, a man of extraordinary devotion and an example of paternal love for her children. It is said that the love of Maximinus knew no limits, and yet it was by necessity purely of spirit.
Maximinus wrote poetry in praise of Our Lady’s extraordinary grace, celebr
ating his love for her in a chaste and honorable form. The great poets in France whom are called troubadours are the heirs of this tradition, singing their songs of courtly love to the sanctified woman they can never touch because she has been promised in the hieros-gamos to another. But love for such a perfected woman lasts until death and beyond. It was thus that Maria Magdalena became the greatest artistic muse, and Maximinus the first troubadour poet.
For in the French, the word troubadour means “to find lost gold.” It is in understanding the mysteries left to us through the teachings of the Book of Love that we will find this blessed treasure.
His greatest poem endured among the people, preserved in French by these troubadours, as it contained one of the treasured truths of our teachings, the truth about the return of love which is a gift from God:
je t’ai aimé dans le passé
je t’aime aujourd hui
t’aimerais encore dans l’avenir
Le temps revient.
I have loved you before
I love you today
and I will love you again.
The time returns.
Maximinus became a great leader of the Way in his time, giving the holy sacraments to Magdalena upon her earthly death. He asked to be buried at her feet when his own time came, and this was done. They rested together for many years in the region now named for this great and holy man, Saint Maximin.
For those with ears to hear, let them hear it.
THE STORY OF MAXIMINUS THE ROMAN AND
HOW HE BECAME THE BLESSED SAINT MAXIMIN,
AS PRESERVED IN THE LIBRO ROSSO
Rome
April 1073
OF THE SEVEN FABLED HILLS of Rome, the Esquiline was the highest. Below its western slope were seedy and overcrowded slums; to the east were the villas of prominent citizens, advisers to the Caesars. There were houses in between that belonged to mid-ranking Roman nobles and politicians. It was in these private homes that Christianity flourished in secret during the first century as key citizens were converted by no less than Saint Peter himself. By Matilda’s time, these early centers of secret Christianity were recognized as the oldest churches in Rome.
The church of San Pietro in Vincola, Saint Peter in Chains, was one of these locales. It sat atop the steep hill, a holy monument for Christians in the center of the Eternal City. It was named for yet another relic of great import to early Christianity, one that was immortalized within the gospels, in the Acts of the Apostles. In Acts, chapter twelve, Saint Luke wrote of Herod’s imprisonment of Peter in the Mamartine, following the execution of the apostle James the Less. Peter was kept in chains, shackled to the wall of this dankest dungeon, until a miracle occurred as specified in verse seven:
And behold, the angel of the Lord came upon him, and a light shined in the prison; and he smote Peter on the side and raised him up, saying, “Arise up quickly.” And his chains fell off his hands.
The angel who released the shackles then led Peter out of the prison and to freedom, completing the miracle. The chains that had bound Peter in his captivity were sent to Constantinople for protective keeping as holy relics and proof of the miracle, where they remained until the fifth century. It was then that the Empress Eudoxia sent one half of the set to her daughter in Rome and the other half to Pope Leo I. The pontiff chose this site of a former Christian residence, one where Peter was known to have conducted many secret baptisms, as the foundation for the grand church he built to enshrine the chains.
It seemed a likely place for miraculous events to occur.
It was here that the funeral mass was held for the deeply mourned Pope Alexander II, and here that an extraordinary incident occurred on the same day: the impromptu selection of a new leader for the Church by an emotional mob of churchmen and clerics, a man who wasn’t even an ordained priest on the day he was selected to hold the highest and most sanctified office in all of Christendom.
It started slowly, quietly, as the bishops who came to mourn their pontiff whispered among themselves. They required strength under the papal tiara, a strong reformer who could continue to stand up against the tyranny of the German king. Among other outrages, Henry continued to practice simony and had purchased a number of bishoprics for his closest supporters, despite the strong laws passed against this corruption. Turning the Church back into a spiritual entity with no ties to a temporal monarch was going to require a leader of great wisdom, experience, and strength. It required someone bold and fearless to the point of outrageous. The bishops all agreed that only one man among them had the singular potential to fulfill that destiny: Ildebrando Pierleoni. On the cusp of his fiftieth year of age, Brando was significantly younger than many of the popes who had preceded him, giving him a further advantage through his virile and masculine persona. Even his physical appearance identified him as a strong and capable leader.
One of the Roman bishops stood first and made a short but impassioned speech regarding the need to support Brando as their new pontiff. The tide swelled quickly, and within minutes, the entire faction of mourners was chanting his name and insisting that he accept his election to the papacy, right there and right then. A chant of “God has decreed the new pope” began to build, first from within the church and then bursting throughout the streets of Rome. Brando, who was immensely popular with the people of his city, was confirmed overwhelmingly by both bishops and the populace as the only acceptable heir to the keys of Saint Peter.
Nobody seemed to remember that Ildebrando Pierleoni had never taken any kind of clerical vow, or that he had just been elected pope through an illegal and outmoded process, in violation of the very election decree that he himself had written and implemented under Pope Nicholas II.
Every pope since Peter himself had taken a new name on his accession to the papal throne. Ildebrando Pierleoni knew immediately what his own name would be. In honor of his uncle, the deposed Pope Gregory VI, who had been his mentor and greatest teacher, he took the same name, the name that meant “one who cares for his flock.” It was seen by savvy politicians for what it was: a powerful statement and an intentionally provocative choice, one that sent a message to Henry IV and alerted everyone else that the battle between the German crown and the might of Rome was far from over.
During the final days of June 1073, ceremonies were called to ordain the newly elected Brando to the priesthood and to invest him on the throne of Saint Peter under the name of Pope Gregory VII.
Matilda and Beatrice arrived in Rome with a full retinue to witness the new pope’s investiture ceremony and to show their encouragement for this man who had been loyal to their people in Lucca and to the elder Godfrey during his lifetime. As Isobel adorned Matilda’s hair in preparation for the ceremony, Beatrice briefed her daughter on the politics and protocol that this day would require.
“We will no doubt be in a highly visible position today, which is why you must take such care with your appearance. With us, we bring the support of almost half the Italian land mass. I expect to be seated in a place of honor as a result.”
Matilda smoothed out the exquisite and costly silk of her skirts, laughing as she did so. Isobel smiled at the mischief she saw in Matilda’s eyes.
“Romans have always looked askance at Tuscans; they have always felt themselves superior,” Matilda said. “And what is worse, they do not allow women in positions of authority here. So I shall take great pleasure in showing them just exactly what a Tuscan countess looks like! I hope they place us in the front row, so we can waltz past the Roman aristocrats and scandalize them all.”
Matilda of Tuscany was now twenty-seven years old, outlandishly wealthy and extremely powerful. She was relishing the idea of causing a stir in conservative Rome by adding a splash of colorful Tuscan culture to the ceremony today, while at the same time reminding the stodgy Roman nobility that she was one of the wealthiest and most powerful rulers in Europe. Anything that elevated Tuscany in the eyes of the Romans—and the pope—would benefit her and her people.
> But there was great substance beneath her lavish style. Matilda held sway over tens of thousands of troops who could be mobilized at any time under her expert strategic command. Matilda’s military support, combined with her control of the Apennine Pass, would be the determining factor in a war with Germany.
Beatrice, who wasn’t as amused as Isobel by Matilda’s antics, returned the topic to their political influence.
“Your military might is, no doubt, going to be of far more interest to the new pope than anything else. So while our show of wealth is important, you must remember what is at stake here and not get too caught up in the frivolity.”
“Yes, of course, Mother.” Beatrice still treated Matilda like she was a child, for all that she ruled half of Italy and led her own troops into battle. Matilda had learned long ago to nod obediently while in her mother’s presence, and then go and do exactly what she wanted.
But in this case, she thought Beatrice might actually be right. This pope was, after all, a Roman nobleman. It was likely he would be as conservative and dreary as his countrymen.
The newly named Pope Gregory was receiving a similar briefing in his chambers prior to the formal investiture ceremony. His advisers went through the list of influential guests, providing details about each of them.
“Next is Matilda, Countess of Tuscany. No doubt you have heard of her, Your Grace. She is…controversial.”
Gregory was definitely curious about this woman who was a legend in the northern territories. Everything about the countess was mythical: her wealth, her power, her appearance, and her behavior, which was decidedly outrageous for any feudal leader, but unimaginable for a woman.
“I cannot be bothered with her outrageous habits. What I am bothered with is her military might. And her territories, which are strategically critical. Be sure that she is seated in a place of honor. We need her to be well disposed toward us.”