The Da Vinci Code

Sophie had come home a few days early from graduate university in England and mistakenly witnessed her grandfather engaged in something Sophie was obviously not supposed to see. It was an image she could barely believe to this day.

If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes…

Too ashamed and stunned to endure her grandfather’s pained attempts to explain, Sophie immediately moved out on her own, taking money she had saved, and getting a small flat with some roommates. She vowed never to speak to anyone about what she had seen. Her grandfather tried desperately to reach her, sending cards and letters, begging Sophie to meet him so he could explain. Explain how!? Sophie never responded except once—to forbid him ever to call her or try to meet her in public. She was afraid his explanation would be more terrifying than the incident itself.

Sophie still didn’t like the painting. “She looks like she knows something…like when kids at school have a secret.”

Her grandfather laughed. “That’s part of why she is so famous. People like to guess why she is smiling.”

“Do you know why she’s smiling?”

“Maybe.” Her grandfather winked. “Someday I’ll tell you all about it.”

Sophie stamped her foot. “I told you I don’t like secrets!”

“Princess,” he smiled. “Life is filled with secrets. You can’t learn them all at once.”

“Da Vinci was in a secret society?”

“Da Vinci presided over the Priory between 1510 and 1519 as the brotherhood’s Grand Master, which might help explain your grandfather’s passion for Leonardo’s work. The two men share historical fraternal bond. And it all fits perfectly with their fascination for goddess iconology, paganism, feminine deities, and contempt for the Church. The Priory has a well-documented history of reverence for the sacred feminine.”

“You’re telling me this group is a pagan goddess worship cult?”

“More like the pagan goddess worship cult. But more important, they are known as the guardians of an ancient secret. One that made them immeasurably powerful.”

“During their years in Jerusalem, the Priory learned of a stash of hidden documents buried beneath the ruins of Herod’s temple, which had been built atop the earlier ruins of Solomon’s Temple. These documents, they believed, corroborated Godefroi’s powerful secret and were so explosive in nature that the Church would stop at nothing to get them.”

Sophie looked uncertain.

“The Priory vowed that no matter how long it took, these documents must be recovered from the rubble beneath the temple and protected forever, so the truth would never die.”

Allegedly, for centuries, the Priory’s biggest secret—the location of the Holy Grail—was never written down. For security’s sake, it was verbally transferred to each new rising sénéchal at a clandestine ceremony. However, at some point during the last century, whisperings began to surface that the Priory policy had changed. Perhaps it was on account of new electronic eavesdropping capabilities, but the Priory vowed never again to even speak the location of the sacred hiding place.

“But then how could they pass on the secret?” Sophie asked.

“That’s where the keystone comes in,” Langdon explained. “When one of the top four members died, the remaining three would choose from the lower echelons the next candidate to ascend as sénéchal. Rather than telling the new sénéchal where the Grail was hidden, they gave him a test through which he could prove he was worthy.”

“The Grail,” Langdon said, “is symbolic of the lost goddess. When Christianity came along, the old pagan religions did not die easily. Legends of chivalric quests for the lost Grail were in fact stories of forbidden quests to find the lost sacred feminine. Knights who claimed to be “searching for the chalice” were speaking in code as a way to protect themselves from a Church that had subjugated women, banished the Goddess, burned nonbelievers, and forbidden the pagan reverence for the sacred feminine.”

Sophie shook her head. “I’m sorry, when you said the Holy Grail was a person, I thought you meant it was an actual person.”

“It is,” Langdon said.

“And not just any person,” Teabing blurted, clambering excitedly to his feet. “A woman who carried with her a secret so powerful that, if revealed, it threatened to devastate the very foundation of Christianity!”

Sophie said, “You think Jesus Christ had a girlfriend?”

“No, dear, I said the Church should not be allowed to tell us what notions we can and can’t entertain.”

“Did Jesus have a girlfriend?”

Her grandfather was silent for several moments. “Would it be so bad if He did?”

Sophie considered and then shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Meaning that history is always written by the winners. When two cultures clash, the loser is obliterated, and the winner writes the history books—books which glorify their own cause and disparage the conquered foe. As Napoleon once said, ‘What is history, but a fable agreed upon?’” He smiled. “By its very nature, history is always a one-sided account.”

Sophie had never thought of it that way.

“The Sangreal documents simply tell the other side of the Christ story. In the end, which side of the story you believe becomes a matter of faith and personal exploration, but at least the information has survived.”

“It would not be the first time in history the Church has killed to protect itself. The documents that accompany the Holy Grail are explosive, and the Church has wanted to destroy them for years.”

[…]

“Isn’t it possible that these Priory members were murdered by someone outside the Church? Someone who didn’t understand what the Grail really is? The Cup of Christ, after all, would be quite enticing treasure. Certainly treasure hunters have killed for less.”

“In my experience,” Teabing said, “men go to far greater lengths to avoid what they fear than to obtain what they desire. I sense a desperation in this assault on the Priory.”

“It could not be more obvious. All the historical signs are in place, and if the Priory did not intend to make their secret known very soon, why has the Church now attacked?”

Sophie argued, “The monk has not yet told us his purpose.”

“The monk’s purpose is the Church’s purpose,” Teabing replied, “to destroy the documents that reveal the great deception. The Church came closer tonight than they have ever come, and the Priory has put its trust in you, Miss Neveu. The task of saving the Holy Grail clearly includes carrying out the Priory’s final wishes of sharing the truth with the world.”

“The ability of the woman to produce life from her womb made her sacred. A god. Intercourse was the revered union of the two halves of the human spirit—male and female—through which the male could find spiritual wholeness and communion with God. What you saw was not about sex, it was about spirituality. The Hieros Gamos ritual is not a perversion. It’s a deeply sacrosanct ceremony.”

His words seemed to strike a nerve. Sophie had been remarkably poised all evening, but now, for the first time, Langdon saw the aura of composure beginning to crack. Tears materialized in her eyes again, and she dabbed them away with her sleeve.

“Sophie, every faith in the world is based on fabrication. That is the definition of faith—acceptance of what we imagine to be true, that which we cannot prove. Every religion describes God through metaphor, allegory, and exaggeration, from the early Egyptians through modern Sunday school. Metaphors are a way to help our minds process the unprocessible. The problems arise when we begin to believe literally in our own metaphors.”

[…]

“Religious allegory has become a part of the fabric of reality. And living in that reality helps millions of people cope and be better people.”

“Saunière was dead years ago, when the Church stole his family from him. He was compromised. Now he is free of that pain, released from the shame caused by his inability to carry out his sacred duty. Consider the alternative. Something had to be done. Shall the world be ignorant forever? Shall the Church be allowed to cement its lies into our history books for all eternity? Shall the Church be permitted to influence indefinitely with murder and extortion? No, something needed to be done!”

“It’s in Langdon’s pocket!” Teabing was screaming like a madman. “The map to the Holy Grail!”

As they hoisted Teabing and carried him out, he threw back his head and howled. “Robert! Tell me where it’s hidden!”

As Teabing passed, Langdon looked him in the eye. “Only the worthy find the Grail, Leigh. You taught me that.”

“No more secrets, princess. It’s time you learn the truth about our family.”

Sophie and her grandmother were seated on the porch stairs in a tearful hug when the young docent dashed across the lawn, his eyes shining with hope and disbelief.

“Sophie?”

Through her tears, Sophie nodded, standing. She did not know the young man’s face, but as they embraced, she could feel the power of the blood coursing through his veins…the blood she now understood they shared.