The Kabbalist (32 page)

Lambert fell silent. Jeanne
and Luria waited impatiently for him to continue, but the Frenchman suddenly
looked troubled. “I don’t know why I am telling you all this,” he finally said,
hesitation and doubt audible in his voice. “I think I have had too much to
drink… it happens to me sometimes… I am not sure I should be talking about this
at all… especially today, when both our Romeo and Juliet are gone… people may
get hurt.”

“Hey, you cannot leave
us in such suspense.” Jeanne smiled one of those disarming smiles Luria knew
could melt a heart of stone. "And, after all, we are talking about things
that happened decades ago…”

Lambert hesitated. “Can
I rely upon your discretion in this matter?”

“Of course,” replied
both in a chorus.

Lambert was
vacillating. He poured himself another glass of wine and drank it slowly. “This
is an excellent wine,” he mumbled and closed his eyes, his head slightly drooping.
Luria looked at Jeanne, but she signaled him to wait.

Finally, Lambert raised
his head and opened his eyes, looking at them as if he had just awakened from a
long sleep. “I am sorry,” he said. “I have just arrived in Israel this morning.
I have hardly slept, and now I think I have had a few too many…”

He wiped his mouth with
a napkin and resumed his story, as if nothing had happened. “Well, what now
happened was what often happens in such situations. Ruth got pregnant.” He
watched his astounded audience. “She would not abort it, and as I said,
marriage was out of the question. Ruth was a practical woman. The professor was
always there, and she married him. Jonathan was devastated. He completed his master’s
degree, made the necessary arrangements and moved back to the US for his
doctorate at Harvard. He never saw Ruth or spoke a word to her again. His
connection with me was almost broken as well. Jonathan’s
’joie de vivre
’
was lost altogether, and he now focused only on his faith and research. He
never married.”

Luria and Jeanne
exchanged stunned glances.

“But this was not the
end of this tragic affair,” said Lambert. “The delivery went all wrong and Ruth
died. I am not sure what happened to the baby.”

“Are you saying,” Luria's
voice was strange, “that Ruth’s son is not Orlev’s biological son? That he is
Bennet’s? Does the professor know that?”

Lambert gave him a sad
smile. “The professor… he was always as naive as a little child. I don’t
believe he had any idea of what was going on.” A cloud descended upon his face.
“I hope he does not learn about this from you… it could break him.”

“Of course not,” said Jeanne
promptly.

Lambert moved uneasily in
his chair. “I think I have talked too much,” he said. “And I am not feeling
very well. This combination of lack of sleep and drink… I will be much obliged
if you take me to my hotel now.”

T
hey were standing next
to the bougainvillea, and once again, the door opened to welcome them. It had
only been a few weeks since the two of them had met the professor for the first
time, but he seemed to have aged perceptibly. He smiled at them and Luria
thought it was a sad smile.

A few days before, he
called the professor for an appointment. Jeanne was flying back to France and
wanted to bid Orlev farewell. The old man willingly agreed to meet them.

Jeanne stepped forward
and kissed the professor on both cheeks. “It is so good to see you again,
Professor. I wanted to meet you before I return home.”

Luria extended his hand,
and Orlev shook it. “I am glad you thought of me,” he said. “These things are
important to an old and lonely man, and you two are very close to my heart.” He
walked with them to the living room, and the tea ritual commenced once more.
Finally, the three of them were sitting on their couches around the table with
the aromatic tea glasses steaming in front of them. Luria was very much aware
that he was sitting on the same couch on which Commander Arnon sat that woeful afternoon,
just a week before.

“Well, my dear, when
are you leaving?” Orlev leaned back on his couch.

“I am flying out on
Friday,” said Jeanne. “It was important for me to say good-bye to you.”

“And I am grateful for
that.” The professor sounded very sincere. “So, how do you summarize your visit
to Israel?”

“Well, I came here to
solve an old family mystery and to find what it was that Pascal de Charney made
such an effort to salvage.” Jeanne’s face was somber. “I have not achieved that,
but I did learn a thing or two about my family.” She smiled and looked at
Luria, who avoided her gaze. “I met here some incredible people and made new
friends, among whom I hope I can count you.”

Orlev nodded. “Of
course. And I must thank you both for your support during the tragedy I have
endured.” He sipped from his tea and put the glass back on the table. “And, of
course, Jeanne dear, you shared with me the story of the de Charney family,
which helped me fit in the final pieces of an ancient puzzle I have been
working on for many years.”

He could have dropped a
bomb in the room for similar effect.

Luria, who was just
sipping some tea from his glass, almost choked on it. “You mean to say that you
know what the de Charney scrolls are?” he asked as soon he regained his breath.

“First, my friend,” said
Orlev. “I would not call them thus. De Charney and the Templars before him had
no claim to these documents.” He turned to Jeanne. “My dear, I do not wish to
offend you. I know you mean well, but you must understand that these documents
belong to the Jewish people. They never belonged to your family.”

Jeanne was startled by
the directness of the professor’s words. “Do you know what’s in these scrolls?”
she repeated Luria’s question.

“If I had them in my
possession, I would have been more confident. However, I do have a theory, and
it is based on bits of information I have collected, which fit into a coherent
picture.”

“Can you share this
theory with us?” asked Jeanne.

“I mean to do just that,"
said the professor. “You two have been deeply involved in this. You have helped
and supported me, and I am grateful. I think it is only fair that I share it
with you.”

Jeanne and Luria looked
at him in anticipation.

“But you must promise
to be discreet,” said Orlev. “One day I may publish an article that will
generate a lot of noise. I cannot afford to be prematurely exposed to academic
criticism and besides, I would like to keep the element of surprise.” He
laughed his strange, cooing laugh and then suddenly his face became solemn.
“Can I count on your discretion?” he asked, his eyes going from one to the
other.

The two quietly nodded
their agreement.

“Remember that this is merely
an academic hypothesis. Nevertheless, it has a good explanatory value, and I
personally believe it to be true.” The professor scanned his small audience,
assuming the lecturer’s stance.

“Well,” he opened, “our
story starts somewhere in the first-century AD, with the Jewish population
suffering under the Roman occupation. New winds of nationalism and Messianic fervor
were starting to blow. The fermentation and agitation which, in due course, would
lead to rebellion and to the destruction of the Temple, were already in the
air. Self-proclaimed prophets were emerging with all kinds of messages. Some
incited against the occupying Romans, while others called the people to repent
before the approaching Day of Judgment. Prominent among the latter was an
eccentric called Yohanan Ben Zecharia aka John, a son of a priestly,
aristocratic family. He roamed the mountains, his diet comprising grasshoppers
and wild honey, and called people to repent. Gradually, a group of followers
gathered around him. As part of the repentance and purification process,
Yohanan baptized his followers in the Jordan River, thus earning himself the
nickname ‘The Baptist’. One of the men he baptized was a young relative of his,
named Yeshua Ben Yossef aka Jesus. Young Jesus, who had left his parents’ home
in search of a new meaning, was deeply influenced by Yohanan.

“In time, Jesus himself
became a preacher for a purer way of life. He earned himself a name as a
miracle worker and had his own group of followers, mainly around the village of
Capernaum on the Sea of Galilee. Out of this crowd, he singled out a few
disciples, among whom the closest to him was Judas Iscariot - a young man of about
his age.”

Jeanne moved uneasily
in her seat.

Orlev gestured
emphatically with his hand. “Yes, Judas Iscariot was Jesus’s confidant. I think
I already mentioned this in one of our conversations. These two made a
complementing pair. The charismatic Jesus constituted the spiritual side of the
partnership, while Judas was the pragmatist, handling the day to day business.
He was also the treasurer of the small community, and we know the story of him
rebuking Jesus for allowing Mary to anoint him with expensive oil. Christian
tradition emphasized the earthy and treacherous nature of Judas, but he was probably
the one who took care of the basic existence of Jesus and his followers.”

Jeanne wanted to say
something but thought better of it.

“Judas was Jesus’s full
partner. Perhaps he was the only one privy to his ideas. Jesus was the visionary,
but he needed Judas as a sounding board to refine his ideas. Now, as I have
already told you, Jesus’s known ideas were mainly a repetition of the teachings
of Yohanan-John and others, with a few minor innovations of his own, all
reflecting the mood of his time. Yet, secretly, he was developing some really
original ideas, based on
Derash
interpretations of the Torah. He was
coining new terminology and building a novel cosmology, which gave new meanings
to the act of Creation. He was inspired by the ideas of the emerging Pharisees
of his time to compile a short but significant text, which he kept a secret.”

Orlev thought for a
while. “I may have mentioned
’Sefer Yetzira’
– the Book of Creation, in
one of our earlier conversations.”

“
’Sefer Yetzira’
…”
Luria recalled Bennet explaining the book to them. “It is considered to be the
first Kabbalistic text, isn’t it?”

“Correct!” The
professor was delighted.

Luria was overwhelmed. “Are
you are implying that Jesus actually…”

“I think you have
guessed it, my brilliant friend,” said Orlev jubilantly. “I claim that Jesus
compiled
‘Sefer Yetzira’
, establishing the basic ideas of what we today
call ‘Kabbalah’. Indeed, prominent researchers place the book’s origin
somewhere in the first-century AD.”

“Jesus… the first
Kabbalist?” Luria sounded incredulous.

“Why not? It makes
perfect sense. This was the time when
the
Pharisee school of thought was on the rise. This
Derash
-based doctrine
saw the Torah as a codebook with hidden meanings awaiting interpretation.
Jesus,
with his inclination toward the mystical, was influenced by this discipline and
used it to develop his own ideas. And these great ideas, which influence
Judaism to this day, he shared with his confidant, Judas Iscariot.”

He rose to refill his
guests’ glasses. “One cannot honestly say that any of Jesus’s other disciples
could be considered a great thinker… They were simple people, mostly fishermen
and farmers.”

Jeanne was going to say
something, but gave it up.

“So, according to this
hypothesis of mine, in addition to Jesus’s public preaching, which focused
mainly on contemporary themes, like spiritual and national salvation for the
Jews, Jesus was working on the foundations of Kabbalah with Judas.” He paused
for a sip of tea. “Sometime, before 30 AD, Jesus underwent a crisis. He
realized that he was at a dead end. He had exhausted the potential of his small
Galilean community and yet failed to break into national consciousness. All his
miracles and myths had not placed him in a position to have the significant
impact he craved over the life of his fellow Jews. To create the wave that
would carry the Jews toward the spiritual and national salvation he was
dreaming of, a new measure was called for, something drastic and dramatic – a game-changing
move.”

It was beginning to
dawn on Luria where the professor was heading.

“As we now know from
‘Gabriel’s
Vision’
, the story of the hero who dies and is then resurrected after three
days, was a prevailing myth of that time. Jesus, acutely aware of this myth,
decided to make use of it and shared this idea with Judas.”

Luria looked at Jeanne.
She was sitting tightly on her couch, taut as a spring.

“Jesus was ready to
sacrifice himself for the cause. He understood the power of martyrdom and
wanted Judas to use the shock wave he hoped his martyrdom would generate, and
lead the Israelites toward the changes he envisaged. We can assume Judas found
this hard to swallow. He did not possess Jesus’s charisma and was out of his
league. However, Jesus was one of those men who could, by force of personality
alone, persuade anybody to do anything, and Judas reluctantly accepted his role.
He shouldered the task of getting Jesus extradited and then of making the
necessary arrangements to have Jesus’s body disappear to create the
resurrection effect.”

Jeanne grimaced.

“So now everything was
ready for the big event. Jesus naturally chose a grand stage - Jerusalem during
Passover - one of the three Jewish pilgrimages of the year. He took his
followers with him to Jerusalem and then set the stage for the big eruption.”

“What exactly did he
do?” asked Luria.

“Any provocation he
could think of. He led big parades and demonstrations, preached excessively and
ran wild in the Temple court, turning over tables and causing damage to
property. Within hours of arrival he was marked as a dangerous, subversive
element. Following his extradition, he was brought to trial before the Jewish
High Court – the Sanhedrin, and sent from there to be tried by Herod Antipas,
ruler of the Galilee, who happened to be in Jerusalem for the Passover. He managed
to infuriate Herod with his arrogance and was sent by him to Pilate, the
Prefect of the Roman province of Judaea under Emperor Tiberius, the
highest authority in the land. Jesus, again, made sure to mark himself as an
arrogant rebel. According to the description in the New Testament, Pilate, who
probably saw in Jesus a harmless eccentric, more dangerous dead than alive,
tried to avoid creating unnecessary complications. He asked Jesus mockingly
whether he really was ‘King of the Jews’ as some were calling him. Now, Jesus
was facing a charge of treason that carried a death penalty. You would expect
someone who values his life to answer respectfully.”

“And what did he say?”
Luria was curious to know.

“I am sure Jeanne knows
the answer to that,” said Orlev.

“His reply to Pilate
was
‘That’s what you say’
,” said Jeanne hoarsely.

Luria burst into
laughter. “
’That’s what you say’
? That was his reply? The guy sure had
guts.”

“He certainly
was
brave,” acknowledged Orlev. “Yet, such answer could also be considered a huge
error of judgment, and it indeed cost him his life. This was not just blind
courage. Jesus craved martyrdom. He did whatever he could to facilitate it, and
ultimately succeeded. Nevertheless, he had made one big blunder.”

The professor scanned
the tense faces of his two students and looked pleased. “Jesus was counting on
the wrong guy. Judas was too weak. The act of extraditing Jesus to the Romans
was supposed to be secret, but as it turned out, Judas was exposed, denounced as
a traitor to Jesus and lost any chance of leading his community. Probably, the
death of his friend and mentor proved too traumatic for him as well, and he
broke down and committed suicide. Jesus’s brother, James, took over his
brother’s followers, but the movement remained relatively small and with little
impact. All this changed dramatically, when in walked that marketing wizard,
Saul of Tarsus, aka Paul, who led Christianity on a glorious path, yet totally
incompatible with the one Jesus ever envisioned.”

“All this is pure speculation.”
Jeanne was trying to keep calm and contain the shock and anger this heresy was
causing her. ”You are making unfounded statements. Where is your corroborating
evidence?”

Orlev smiled. “I have a
number of leads from several sources, which have led me to form this theory.”

“And that’s it? That's
all it takes to transform humanity’s most infamous traitor into a hero?” Jeanne
did not hide the fury in her voice.