Destiny

EIGHTY-ONE

It was dark when Marcus and Alicia returned to Chartres Cathedral. Fog climbed up from the Eure River, swirling at the tops of weeping willows and silver maple trees, their yellow leaves wet and falling like golden confetti in the haze. A full moon rose from the east, casting the twin spires into silhouettes. The moonlight illuminated the cathedral in soft white, creating pockets of deep shadows. Mist caressed the stone faces and floated toward the massive wooden doors as if silent spirits waited to be invited inside.

Marcus and Alicia approached the north portal. She hugged her upper arms and said, “This is like we’re in some kind of dream. I almost want to pinch myself. It feels as if time doesn’t have a twenty-four hour cycle here. I know that sounds really weird. Father Davon seems to know more than he’s telling us about the spear.”

“I think he knows something. Maybe he was simply picking and pruning those roses, but it felt like he was waiting for us to arrive. Almost like the rose without thorn information was some kind of very old code.”

“He said the north door would be left unlocked for us.” Alicia turned the antique wrought iron handle. The ancient wooden door opened, its hinges moaning, the sound traveling deep into the heart of the cathedral. They stepped inside and closed the door behind them. “Oh…my…God,” Alicia mumbled, her head slowly turning, eyes trying to take in the light and the stone architecture. Hundreds of candles burned in candleholders on walls and tables around the cathedral. Chandeliers and soft lights illuminated statues and ornate biblical scenes carved in iron and stone, the light reflecting off polished brass and dancing through dark arched passageways that seemed to lead far away.

The moonlight, which filtered through the vast stain-glass windows, filled the cathedral with an interior rainbow, soft hues of blue and pink, as if the atoms in the light now could be seen with the human eye. They walked toward the altar. It was in the center of polished marble, seven steps leading up to the altar. A dozen roses sat in the middle of the marble table. Alicia whispered, “Those are the roses Father Davon picked. Look at that.” She pointed down the long corridor to where a perfect circle of candles surrounded a stone labyrinth. “Let’s check it out.”

“I wonder where Father Davon is. Maybe something came up that caused him to be delayed.”

“That would mean we’d have the run of this incredible church for a while.” She smiled and walked to the labyrinth, stopping at the entrance, her eyes searching the stones and following the maze to the center stone. “It looks so old. Let’s see where it leads us,” she whispered. Alicia entered the labyrinth, following its web, stepping carefully on each stone. Marcus followed behind her, glancing up at the stained glass from the different perspectives achieved by walking the circles within the labyrinth.

When Alicia got to the center, she knelt down and touched her palm to the stone. The centerpiece was cool, shaped like a flower, six petals. “Paul, there is a power in this place, a power I’ve never felt in any church. I can’t describe it. Can you feel it? I could sense it in the taxi, looking across the wheat field at Chartres.”

“Yes. Something’s here.”

“The question now, is the Spear of Destiny here?” asked Father Davon, stepping out of the shadows, the light from the circle shimmering in his wide eyes.

“Do you always do that?” asked Alicia.

“And what is that?”

“Pop up like a ghost. You’re so quiet. We didn’t hear you come in.”

“I was already here. I wanted to give you and Paul a little time to sense the uniqueness of Chartres. It looks as though it’s working.”

Alicia pushed a strand of hair behind her right ear. “What’s the significance of the flower in the center of the labyrinth?”

“It’s a destination of the heart, the soul. A journey Socrates may have found before his death. Some people have called this ancient labyrinth the road to Jerusalem. I believe it’s meant to take you on a higher journey. The labyrinth, like Chartres, is part of the sacred geometry, which, in its purest levels, is designed to open your mind and spirit to become closer with God. It lifts the consciousness to wider, and perhaps, wiser aspects. Walking it, you see and feel different parts of Chartres, the various views of the stained-glass, the solitude of a journey that is more of a destination of the heart than a physical place.”

Marcus looked at the circle of candles, their flames dancing without the feel of air circulating. “You said you didn’t know if the Spear of Destiny is here, but you were going to show us something?”

“Ah, yes…indeed, the spear.” Follow me. Father Davon led them through the long corridors of the cathedral. He stopped at one immense stained-glass window and pointed to it. “That’s the Blue Virgin. It’s considered the most pure of colors found in stained glass anywhere on earth. Look at the blues, it’s like the sun was shining from the depths of a deep blue sea. And that is just from the light of the moon. No one is sure how the old masters achieved it. It simply cannot be duplicated today.”

He led them through a winding maze, and they entered a room lit by a few candles and reduced lights. Two golden winged angels were on either side of an elaborate, ornamented gold display box, the top portion forming a triangle. A bone white cloth lay wrapped over a bar in the center — a long shawl on an intricate, bejeweled rack.

“This is what many on their spiritual pilgrimages come to Chartres to see, the Sancta Camisa. It is said to be the tunic of Mary, mother of Jesus, the actual shawl she wore the night she gave birth to Jesus Christ our Lord.”

Marcus stared at the tunic without saying anything, his mind drawing references from the Bible passages he’d researched. Words from Luke 2:34 coalesced in his thoughts as if someone whispered in his ear, the hushed echoes traveling down the arched passageways filling the cathedral with a chorus of soft voices. ‘This Child is destined for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign which will be spoken against…a spear will pierce through your own soul so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.’ Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose, the room suddenly warmer, closer. His eyes met the priest, neither man speaking.

Alicia moistened her lips and said, “It’s beautiful. Do you really think it’s the one Mary wore when Christ was born?”

Father Davon smiled. “No one can say with complete authenticity. Perhaps, like the Spear of Destiny carried by Charlemagne, it is the true tunic. Possibly it is not. What is important is the symbolism, the visual imagery something tangible can deliver to so many who will never achieve what was taught at the School of Chartres, only because it requires a mindset that many will not allow themselves to achieve.”

“What mindset?” Marcus asked.

Father Davon nodded and smiled. “Please, allow me to continue our tour.” He led them through a series of archways and corridors lit with soft light that painted a tawny glow up into the porticos and staircases leading toward the ceiling. They walked to the sculptures of a mother and child, both fully clothed, wearing crowns and each with darker skin. “Some call her the Black Madonna. No one knows how the statues arrived at Chartres. Some pilgrims don’t notice the color of her face. Others do. It’s not so much observation as it is perception. That’s what the School of Chartres was all about, perception.”

“How do you mean?” Alicia asked.

“More than a thousand years ago, in this cathedral, the School of Chartres was, in essence, a seminary — a seminary that looked at the Platonic approach to philosophy, natural science, the arts and the universal mind of a loving God. For almost two centuries, the greatest minds, intellectuals, gifted students all over Europe came here to learn. Most could not achieve the highest standards of admission for acceptance into the school. But for those who could, the enlightenment — the education was nothing short of a life-altering experience.”

“How was that?” Marcus asked.

Father Davon laced his fingers together and closed his eyes for a second. “The teachers, men like Bishop Flubertus, brought in the lessons from knowledge honed by the ancient Greeks and combined them with parables from the Bible, keeping alive the virtues of the Virgin Mary to understand complete faith that is usually beyond our initial power to grasp. The teachers taught the students, the new theologians who would leave here, how to realize the signs John wrote in Revelation, looking beyond, much deeper than the apparent and literal meaning.”

“Are you suggesting an absolute knowledge or wisdom, something that people, such as Isaac Newton, sought to understand?” asked Marcus.

“I think a better term would be a distillation of the soul that aligns as close as humanly possible to God. It’s like stripping away the manmade harnesses, the prejudices, allowing the soul to gain a greater perception, without fear, as it’s fed with the nutrients found in the universality of God’s complete love. That is the arduous path to absolute knowledge, or at least the new discernment that is realized when we learn to love unconditionally — to put our brothers before us. In Revelation, John writes from a higher dimension in which time becomes a visible medium. The past, present, and future are displayed in a non-linear vista.”

Alicia let out a breath. “This is all very good stuff. But in the real world of good and evil, my niece is being held hostage in Iran. Egypt, Tunisia, England, Libya, Syria and other parts of the planet are erupting in civil chaos. How does an ancient school, its teachings, have anything to do with the Spear of Destiny?”

“Because we’re talking about your destiny, the fate of Paul, me and the rest of the world we share with our fellow humans. The Spear of Destiny has been desired and sometimes acquired by those with a keen insight into the times in which they lived. Evil travels a crooked path, but a path nonetheless.” Father Davon looked up at a stained-glass window high in the cathedral. “Come, the time is near, and it is brief. I told you I would show you something. What it means is something no one knows.”