The Alexandria Link

SIXTY-FIVE

VIENNA

8:30 AM

THORVALDSEN SAT INSIDE THE SCHMETTERLINGHAUS AND OPENED the atlas. He and Gary had awoken an hour ago, showered, and eaten a light breakfast. He’d come to the butterfly house not only to avoid the electronic listening devices, but to await the inevitable as well. Only a matter of time before Hermann discovered the theft.

Morning was free time for the members, as the next gathering of the Assembly was not scheduled until late afternoon. He’d kept the parchments inside the atlas beneath his bed all night. Now he was anxious to learn more. Though he could read Latin, his Greek was minimal, and his knowledge of Old Greek, which surely would be the language of Jerome and Augustine, was nonexistent. He was thankful that Hermann had commissioned the translations.

Gary sat across from him in another chair. “You said last night these may be what we came for.”

He decided the boy deserved the truth. “You were kidnapped so as to force your father to find something he hid away years ago. I think that and these papers are linked.”

“What are they?”

“Letters between two learned men. Augustine and Jerome. They lived in the fourth and fifth centuries and helped formulate the Christian religion.”

“History. I’m starting to like it and all, but there’s so much to it.”

Henrik smiled. “And the problem today is we have so few documents from that time. Wars, politics, time, and abuse have devastated the record. But here are writings straight from the minds of two learned men.”

He knew something about both. Augustine was born in Africa to a Christian mother and a pagan father. Eventually, as an adult, he converted to Christianity and recorded his youthful excesses in The Confessions, a book Thorvaldsen knew was still required reading at most universities. He became the bishop of Hippo, an intellectual leader of African Catholicism, and a powerful advocate for orthodoxy; he was credited with formulating much of the church’s early thinking.

Jerome, too, was born to a pagan family and misspent his youth. He was also learned, and came to be regarded as the most intellectual of all the church fathers. He lived as a hermit and devoted thirty years of his life to translating the Bible. Ever since, he’d been associated with libraries, so much so that he became their patron saint.

From the little that Thorvaldsen had overheard last night, these two men, who lived in differing parts of the ancient world, apparently communicated with each other during a time when Jerome was fashioning his lifework. Hermann had made his point to the vice president about biblical manipulation, but he needed to understand the situation fully. So he found the translation pages and started perusing them, reading the English passages out loud.

My learned brother Augustine, there was a time when I believed the Septuagint to be a wondrous work. I read that text in the library at Alexandria. To hear the thoughts of those scribes, as they recounted the troubles of the Israelites, brought to life the faith that had long filled my soul. But this joy has now been replaced with confusion. In my work to convert the old text it is clear that great liberties were taken in the Septuagint. Passage after passage is not correct. Jerusalem is not a single place, but a region that contains many places. That most sacred of rivers the Jordan is not a river, but a mountain escarpment. As to the names of places, most are wrong. The Greek translation does not conform to the Hebrew. It is as if the entire message was altered, not through ignorance, but design.

Jerome, my friend, yours is a difficult task, made even more so by our great mission. What you have discovered has not gone unnoticed. I, too, have spent a great deal of time in the library at Alexandria. Many of us have perused the manuscripts. I read an account from Herodotus, who visited Palestine in the fifth century before our Lord. He found the area under Persian rule inhabited by Syrians. He noticed no Israelite or Jewish presence. No Jerusalem or Judah. I found that remarkable considering the old text mentions that was the time when the Jewish Temple was being rebuilt in Jerusalem and Judah enjoyed the status of a great province. If these had existed, the learned Greek would have noticed, as he carries the reputation of an ardent observer. I found that the first known identification of ancient Israel with what we call Palestine comes from the Roman, Strabo. His Histories is a thorough account, and I was privileged to read it in the library. Strabo’s work was completed twenty-three years after our Lord was born, so he wrote at a time when Christ actually lived. He notes that the name Judea was first applied to Palestine during Greek rule, the Greek word for a Jewish country being Ioudaia. That was only a century before the birth of our Lord. So sometime between the visits of Herodotus and Strabo, some four hundred years apart, the Jews of Palestine established a presence. Strabo himself wrote of a large body of Israelites who fled from a land to the south and settled in Palestine. He was not clear as to which land, but he reasoned that, given the proximity of Egypt and its easy access, the Exodus must have occurred from there to Palestine. But nothing proves that conclusion. Strabo noted that the source of his tale was the Jews of Alexandria, among whom he spent much time. He was fluent in Hebrew and noted in his Histories that he, too, found errors in the Septuagint. He wrote that the scholars at the library of Alexandria, who translated the old text into Greek, simply connected the old text to what they learned from the Jews at that time. Strabo wrote that the Jews of Alexandria had forgotten their past and seemed comfortable creating one.

My learned brother Augustine, I have read the writings of Flavius Josephus, a Jew who wrote with great authority. He lived a century after our Lord was born. He clearly identifies Palestine with the land in the old text, noting that the region is the only place he knew where a Jewish political entity existed. Of a more recent time, Eusebius of Caesaria, on behalf of our most exalted emperor Constantine, has designated names from the old text to sites in Palestine. I have read his work On the Names of Places in Holy Scripture. But after studying a text of the old text in Hebrew, it is clear that Eusebius’s work is flawed. He seems to have loosely applied meanings to place-names and in some cases simply guessed, yet this work carries a great importance. Pious and credulous pilgrims use it as their guide.

Jerome, my friend, we must execute this task with great diligence. Our religion is but forming, and there are threats from all sides. What you are attempting is critical to our existence. To have the old text translated into Latin will allow those words to be read by many. I urge you not to alter what those who created the Septuagint started. Our Lord Christ lived in Palestine. For the message we are formulating with the newer testament, we must present one voice. I recognize what you have said: that the old text seems not a record of the Israelites in what we call Palestine. Why should that matter? Our goal is much different from that of those who created the Septuagint. Our newer testament must be a fulfillment of the old. Only in this way will the meaning of our message be elevated to a status greater than the old. To link the old with the new will demonstrate how vital our Lord Christ was and how important His message is. The errors that you note in the Septuagint need not be corrected. As you have written, the Jews who aided those translators had forgotten their past. They knew nothing of their existence from long ago, only what was happening around them at the time. So in your translations, the Palestine that we know should remain the Palestine of both testaments. This is our task, dear brother, our mission. The future of our religion, of our Lord Christ, is with us and He inspires us to do His will.

Thorvaldsen stopped reading.

Here were two church fathers, perhaps the most brilliant of all, laboring with how to manipulate the translation of the Old Testament into Latin. Jerome was clearly privy to a manuscript written in the original Hebrew and had noted errors in its previous translation into Greek. Augustine knew of Herodotus and Strabo-the former recognized as the father of history, the latter of geography. One a Greek, the other Roman. Men who lived centuries apart and fundamentally changed the world. Strabo’s Geography still existed and was regarded as one of the most precious of ancient texts, revealing much about that world and its time, but his Histories was gone.

No copy existed.

Yet Augustine had read it.

In the Library of Alexandria.

“What does all that mean?” Gary asked.

“A great deal.”

If the early church had falsified the translation of the Old Testament, adapting its words to fit its purposes, that could have catastrophic implications.

Hermann was right. The Christians would certainly join the fight.

His mind raced with what the Blue Chair was planning. He knew from conversations they’d had through the years that Hermann was not a believer. He regarded religion as a political tool and faith as a crutch for the weak. He’d take great pleasure in watching the three major religions struggle with the implications that the Old Testament they’d always known was in fact something altogether different.

The pages Thorvaldsen held were precious. They formed part of Hermann’s proof. But the Blue Chair would need more. Which was why the Library of Alexandria was so important. If it still existed, it might be the only repository that could shed light on the issue. That was Malone’s problem, however, given that he was apparently now on his way to the Sinai.

He wished his friend well.

Then there was the president of the United States. His death was planned for next Thursday.

That was Thorvaldsen’s problem.

He fished his cell phone from a pocket and dialed.