Gregory presented the traditional arguments against the Song as a paean to erotic love, insisting that the Church could only take the position that it was sacred poetry about God’s love for the Church and its children, and only God’s love. Matilda parried once again, as skillfully as any learned cleric he had ever met.
“Why does it have to be one or the other? The problem with many scriptural interpretations that are accepted by the Church is that they are narrowly exclusive. Either the Song of Songs is about God’s love and a love of the Church, which is divine, or it is about human love, which is therefore profane. But this is not what Jesus tells us in the Book of Love. He tells us that both are true, and must be. That it is through our love together as humans that we find God. God is present in the bridal chamber when true beloveds are united. It is this essence that is found completely in the very first verse. ‘How right it is to love you.’ This is what the beloveds say when they find God as they come together. Why cannot such a thing be true when it is so beautiful?”
“Tell me then, Matilda. Did you find God in the bridal chamber?”
She was shocked into silence for a moment when Gregory shifted the direction of his questioning to make the inquiry so highly personal. He had never ventured into such territory before. She responded the only way she knew how. With honesty.
“I was forced into marriage with a man who was not and could never be my beloved. He could not even be my friend. Such is the bane of many women, never to know true love and to subsequently be denied this particular path to feeling and understanding God. I believe that such forced marriages are a high human crime against the teachings of love. There was never, at any time, trust or consciousness in my marital bed. And the teachings insist that both must be present for a union to be sacred. So the answer to your question is no, I have not found God in the bridal chamber.”
He was watching her closely, testing her now, and she knew it. “So you have a conundrum, do you not? You have never known such union, and yet it is the ultimate sacrament of your people. You are not spiritually whole without this understanding of union, are you? But to search for such an experience outside matrimony is adultery, and a cardinal sin. How do you reconcile that in your spiritual well-being?”
She was ready for the question, had thought about this concept many, many times. “Adultery, as you define it, is a cardinal sin within the Catholic Church, that is true. But adultery is defined differently in the Book of Love. Our scripture states that any embrace that is against the will of another, or that otherwise violates the spirit of trust and consciousness, is adulterous. Therefore most arranged marriages, where women are forced to provide their bodies against their will, constitute real adultery. And yet they are sanctioned by the Church as well as by man-made laws.
“How can true love ever be adultery, if love is the greatest gift given us by our benevolent father in heaven? Solomon and Sheba were not married to each other, indeed he was married to others, and yet they have never been called adulterers. That is because their love was a higher law. How is it possible that two souls, joined by God in heaven at the dawn of eternity, could ever commit a sin by reuniting in the flesh on earth? Remember this: what God has joined together, let no man separate. I say to you that the law of love will always defy the law of man when and if it must. And that every time Godfrey touched me, that was adultery, despite the laws of man and the Church that claim him as my husband.
“But to embrace the other half of my soul, to merge with him completely through the joining of our bodies as an expression of pure union…this is a sacrament without sin, and I would stand by that in the face of God on the day of judgment.”
She held his eyes with her own. When neither could find their voice in the immediate aftermath of such a speech, it was Matilda who continued, finding a safer place—if only momentarily—within continued scriptural discussion.
“The Song of Songs contains within it the teachings of the six aspects for expressing love, which Jesus later emphasizes individually in his gospel, our most holy scripture.” She raised her chin with a touch of hauteur when she used the possessive pronoun. “And one of these aspects is Eros, which is intense and beautiful physical expression. Sacred union.”
Gregory responded to the mental challenge with some degree of relief, back on level ground. “But you are making an assumption once again that the verses have intimate, physical connotations. The scholarly interpretations do not say so. They are adamant that this song is not about erotic love.”
Matilda began to reply but held back for a moment. When she did respond, it was to lean forward, causing waves of soft copper hair to fall becomingly over her porcelain skin. Her blue-green eyes sparked as she began to recite from the Song of Songs, never once breaking eye contact as she intoned in a throaty whisper:
How delicious is your love, more delicious than wine!
Your lips, my promised one
Distill wild honey.
Honey and milk
Are under your tongue.
In the boldest move of a life defined by daring, she rose from her own bench and closed the distance between them. She came before him, kneeling at his feet, and continued to recite, slow and tortuous, as she gazed up at him. With slow, careful fingers, she removed the veils that covered her hair as she continued to hold his eyes.
I eat my honey and my honeycomb
I drink my wine and my milk
I sleep but my heart is awake
I hear my beloved knocking.
“Open to me, my love,
My dove, my perfect one.”
The next veils to be removed, carefully, gracefully, were those that covered her full breasts. They floated to the floor, leaving her creamy flesh and delicate rose-colored nipples exposed to his gaze. He watched her, immobilized, as the poetry dripped from her lips and she leaned forward to graze his thighs lightly with her fingertips.
On my bed at night I sought him,
Whom my heart loves.
My beloved thrust his hand
Through the hole in the door;
I trembled to the core of my being,
Then I rose
To open to my Beloved.
She leaned in closer to him, still at his feet, resting her cheek on one thigh now, fingertips trailing along the other. She finished the Song, breathing against his hardness as she intoned,
Myrrh ran off my hands
Pure myrrh ran off my fingers
And I opened to my Beloved.
Matilda invoked the last line with delicate slowness. There was more than a touch of triumph in her slanted aquamarine eyes as she witnessed his discomfort, his fascination, and his passion. Never had scripture been so seductive.
“And so I ask you,” she whispered, rising full on her knees to meet him now, face-to-face, increasing the pressure on his thighs with her fingertips. “Does that sound like a song written about the chastity of the Church to you?”
“I concede,” he whispered, hoarse in his reply, his mouth against hers. They stayed there in that space for some time, breathing together and living in the moment of forbidden closeness. They would both come to savor every second that they were able to be alone and to touch in such a way, yet there was an exquisite torture in the waiting. When their lips did finally come together in full, it was a deeply sensual and exquisite prelude to the prolonged merging of their bodies. They spent the next hours intertwined, locked in the specific alchemical magic that occurs when hardened masculinity enters yielding feminine softness.
No more were they two, but of one flesh. And what God has put together, let no man separate.
Theirs was a union of trust and consciousness, a perfect expression of the hieros-gamos. The beloveds of scripture had found each other once more.
In emulation of Solomon and Sheba, they remained together, very nearly undisturbed, for the better part of a week. In the sanctity of the chamber, Matilda introduced her beloved to the most intimate secrets of the hieros-gamos as preserved
in the Order. These were highly protected and sacred teachings, passed down from woman to woman for thousands of years, for providing ecstasy in a way that was unimaginable to any but the indoctrinated. It was an approach that emphasized worshipping the body of the beloved, in full understanding that it was the sacred container of the soul. While Matilda had learned these lessons as part of her instruction, she could not have imagined what they would feel like in practice. Once experienced, they altered one’s existence indelibly. This was as true for women as it was for men.
Isobel had laughed at first when passing the instruction on to Matilda, saying that she felt sympathy for those who would never know just how exquisite divine union could be.
“Do you know, Matilda,” she explained, “that no man in the history of the Order has ever strayed from his beloved? This is because once the hieros-gamos is consummated within the secret teachings, there is nowhere else for him to go! He will never desire to couple with any other woman, knowing full well that the same levels of ecstasy can never be reached with another. It is an ecstasy that touches divinity. His desire for his beloved partner becomes so singular and intensified that his commitment to her is eternal and his fidelity assured. This in itself is a great gift from God.”
Isobel turned serious then, indicating that it was truly a tragedy that this blessed understanding of pleasure had been lost to most. This specific path to finding God through sacred union was known now only to a few, and the changing times would continue to threaten these secrets until they were very nearly eliminated. Even the public and open teachings, as those within the Gospel of Matthew, chapter nineteen, “No more were they two, but of one flesh. And what God has put together, let no man separate,” had been diluted in interpretation to eradicate the truly sensual nature of the beautiful gift that Jesus was attempting to impart.
Pope Gregory VII was not a shallow man. His attraction to Matilda was not limited to her beauty, her power, and all that she had to offer him as a result of those things in combination. He was deeply and wholly in love with a woman whom he believed had been created for him by God; he had come to understand the nature of hieros-gamos as a truly religious experience during his days and nights with the glorious countess. He had found God with this woman in a way that he had never dreamed possible through any of his studies. Further, he was now more than ever fascinated to the point of obsession with all these original teachings of early Christianity. He had become pope as a reformer, dedicated to returning the Church to a sacred and spiritual office, where the teachings of Christ were centric above all. That Matilda represented such an immense challenge to what that might mean in truth was both important and intriguing, nearly beyond measure.
“I did not become pope because I am a holy man, Tilda,” he confided as they dined on their final evening at Fiano. “I became pope because I am a pragmatic man, and a savvy politician who cares about the fortunes of Rome and its Church. But I do mean it when I say that I hope to become a holy man as I hold this exalted place. And what is it that will make me holy as I sit on this throne of the apostle Peter? I would be holy by emulating Jesus Christ. And yet the more I read and study—and learn from you—the more I begin to question exactly what it means to emulate Christ.
“Is it possible, I wonder, to maintain a Church with the power and structure to influence a flock that covers all Europe and more, and yet is based entirely on these ideas of love that you have? This is quite a dilemma, because I do not think that such a thing is possible. Love knows no reason, Matilda. It knows no logic, no strategy, no law except its own. It is not something that can be controlled, administered, or passed into law. It cannot be taxed or profited from. Indeed, I have passed laws that forbid love within my own clergy, haven’t I? I have forbidden priests to marry and have enforced laws of celibacy. And yet those same laws protect elements of the Church that require preservation, they protect the Church as an institution, which is something I am sworn to do. I must stand by those laws as necessary for the higher good.
“But what does it mean if this higher good that I am protecting is against the very nature of what our Lord wanted us to understand? These are the trials that we face, trials of faith and free will. I will need you at my side, as often as possible, to be my partner in navigating these uncharted waters. God has put us both in this place, and he has put us together. We have the opportunity to change history, to ensure that the Church remains strong and that our people keep Christ at the center of their lives. What form this takes may not be what you envision, it may not be possible to ever introduce this Way of yours to the world as we know it. But we will do what we can to protect the Way as it exists. And all the while, we will explore this idea of love.”
Matilda challenged him, as she would every day of their lives together. “I dare say that as you become more familiar with the simple and awesome power that is the Way of Love, you will feel differently. The Way is for everyone, Gregory, just as the kingdom of God is for everyone. Rich and poor, men and women, humble and noble. It is strong enough to endure anything. Strong enough to bring peace to the world.”
Gregory considered this idea as the pragmatic politician struggled with the newly awakened poet within him. “Love. It is surprisingly complicated, particularly in matters of state. It is troubling. It is beautiful. But most of all, it is something I have no precedent for.
“And thus I must ask you before you depart for Tuscany in the morning: will you swear to stand by me, Matilda? To help me understand just how we are to preserve the Church in a way that will not weaken it against the great threats that we face each day, and yet preserve these traditions that you know to be true to the best of our ability?”
She took his hands across the table and held them in her own as she replied to him very simply, with the vow she would never break: “Semper. Always.”
Rome
present day
MAUREEN AND BÉRENGER strolled slowly through the church of San Pietro in Vincola, hand in hand. His arrival in Rome had surprised her. But once Maureen understood that he had gone first to reconcile with Peter, before even letting her know that he was here, she felt tremendous relief. It was the action of a real man—an action that revealed humility and accountability.
She had had dinner with him the previous night, and in the space of those two hours had filled him in on what she had discovered about Matilda thus far from her autobiographical documents. She also made him aware of the man in the hooded sweatshirt who had been watching her window.
“I ran up to your room, but you weren’t in. By the time I was back in my own, he was gone.”
Bérenger listened closely, concerned. “Well, you aren’t going anywhere in Rome again without at least one of us with you at all times.”
During the course of their meal, Maureen allowed herself to remember all the reasons that she adored him. Speaking to him was like a homecoming. He understood her, he was like her, and he made her feel as if she was home. And now he had decreed himself her official Rottweiler while in Rome. When Maureen wanted to visit locales that were important in Matilda’s history, Bérenger was insistent on accompanying her. Maureen was enjoying his company immensely.
As they walked through the Church of Peter in Chains, Maureen repeated the story of Matilda and Gregory’s first meeting to him.
“It was absolutely love at first sight, on both sides and by all accounts.”
Bérenger nodded. “Was it? What causes love at first sight? Is it more accurate to say that it is love at…recognition? Do we fall for someone so quickly and so hard because we are recognizing that this person is someone we have loved before and are destined to love again? Do we feel instant connection or attraction to someone because on some level we know that they represent another piece of our own soul?”
Maureen thought about it as they walked through the expanse of the church, which was crowded with tourists, most of whom hovered around the horned statue of Moses created by Michelangelo. They dropped euro coins into the lig
ht box with a loud clink, so that the masterpiece in marble would be illuminated for a few minutes of enhanced viewing. This building had changed dramatically since the day of Gregory’s impromptu election, having gone through a major renovation in the Renaissance and a number of other alterations throughout the centuries.
“Maybe. Perhaps this is another aspect of ‘The time returns.’”
“Go on.”
“Well, these couples of which they speak in the Order. Veronica and Praetorus, are they returning in the model of other great couples who were teachers? Easa and Magdalene? Are they the return of Solomon and Sheba in their own time? It appears that Matilda believed that she and Gregory were the return of Solomon and Sheba. Is that literal, or were they reliving an archetype? An archetype that is available to all who are lucky enough to find that kind of connection with another? I don’t know, I’m struggling with this concept. With all of these concepts.”
He considered her for a moment. Interesting, that so many humans would find this idea of eternal love unimaginable, and yet it seemed so natural and simple to him. And unspeakably beautiful. He said nothing, reserving his deeper thoughts for when she was ready. Patience was the virtue he needed to cultivate to keep this unicorn in the garden of her own free will.
They waited in a short line to view the relics for which the church was named, the large linked chains that were preserved in a gold and glass reliquary. Whether or not they were the actual chains that shackled Saint Peter was anybody’s guess, but there was a strange aura to them, a mystical patina that can only occur on an object that has been revered for so many centuries.
They emerged from the church a few minutes later, into the amber sunlight of the fading Roman afternoon. As they climbed carefully down the marble stairs toward the street, it was Maureen who chose to reintroduce the subject as they walked. “What happens when it’s one-sided?”