The Man of Sorrows III — Jerusalem, 33 AD

— Cornelis de Bondt

III — Rome — 1656 AD

Kircher remained in what he called his ‘home year’ for a full year, using the time to prepare for his next journey. He had successfully completed the first part of his plan, acquiring the manuscripts that mentioned the name of Jesus, also known as the Messiah or the Christ, and described the person. These were the only texts about this central figure in Christianity, apart from the gospel texts. This weakened the position of Arius enough to prevent the acceptance of the homoousios doctrine as a binding principle for the Church. Alexander would be pleased with his masterful move, although he would naturally not inform him of the details… But there was another matter that also had to remain hidden from Alexander’s view, an ingenious idea that constituted the core of the second phase of his plan: the resurrection of the Son.

He studied ancient texts: Bible scriptures, apocryphal texts, historical texts, commentaries by Church Fathers — altogether a substantial amount, written in various languages, including Latin and Greek, but also texts written in Old High German and Middle High German. Several apocryphal gospels caught his interest, particularly the Gospel of Thomas, also known as the Gospel of Toama, and the Gospel of Maria Magdalena. The Gospel according to John also drew his attention due to one small phrase. Gradually, his plan took shape. By January of the new year, he had all aspects of his plan well organized, knowing precisely how he would execute it. However, there was one technical problem he needed to solve before he could set off.

It was essential for his plan to have more flexibility in his travels. Thus far, he only had one designated travel day: April 21st, because on that day, the sun aligned directly above the oculus in the dome of the Pantheon. For his magnetism-based machine, the intensity of sunlight entering his workspace precisely at noon was sufficient for the journey. However, he also wanted to be able to travel in June. After several weeks of making countless complex calculations, he concluded that the sun on the summer solstice would also have enough power. He decided to conduct an experiment — an audacious endeavor. However, even if it were to fail, he still had the date of April 21st as a backup, and he believed there was no danger to his life. On June 21st, at noon, he closed the door of his cabin and pulled the lever. On April 21st, at the same hour, he reopened the cabin door. He had traveled two months back in time. His experiment had succeeded. He now had two different travel days and the possibility of an infinite loop within a two-month timeframe.

On June 21st, 1656, he entered his secret storage space in the Pantheon, securely locking the area and placing his carry bag and duffel bag in the metal cabin. He had enough Roman coins with him — gold, silver, and copper — so that he could make inconspicuous payments. Exactly at noon, he set off.

Jerusalem — 32-33 AD

Athanasius had rented an apartment just outside the center of Jerusalem. It was about a half-hour walk from the ‘place of the skull’, the execution site outside the city. He had arrived in the autumn, and the journey from Rome had taken longer than expected, but he had plenty of time to execute his plan without any issues. He spent the last weeks of the year mingling among the followers of Jesus of Nazareth. Soon, he was welcomed as a respected guest, who, with wise commentary at the right moments, spoken in a calm and modest tone, commanded the necessary respect. He particularly gained the trust of Toama, the twin brother of Jesus. Toama would play a crucial role in his plan. Athanasius had read the assumption that Jesus might have had a twin brother in two apocryphal gospels: the Gospel of Toama itself and the Gospel of Maria Magdalena. He also found a reference in the Gospel according to John, where it mentions Thomas [John 20:24]: Now Thomas, one of the twelve, called Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came. The term ‘didymus’ means ‘twin’, just like the Hebrew ‘Toama’ (or ‘Taoma’). The fact that Toama mostly stayed outside the immediate circle around Jesus was an additional advantage for Athanasius. Jesus and Toama were rarely seen together, as Toama kept himself apart from the actions of his much more militant twin brother. Jesus was a Zealot, an activist opposing Roman authority. That would ultimately cost him dearly, but that part of the story is well-known history.

Maria Magdalena was also crucial for the success of Athanasius’ plan, but mainly because she could prove to be an obstacle. Therefore, one of his initial tasks was to gain the trust of both individuals. During his first meeting with Toama, he immediately noticed the strong resemblance between the brothers, confirming the hypothesis of the twin brothers, which he had believed in since the beginning of his research. The problem with Maria’s position was that she was the beloved of Toama, not Jesus, as he had read in other texts. This confusion was understandable, of course. The problem for Athanasius was that for his plan to have a chance of success, the two lovers would have to break their relationship. His first task was to assess the likelihood of this separation being successful, as both seemed deeply in love.

The peculiar aspect of his plan was that the role of Jesus was of secondary importance. He was an essential part of the story, but the way the story would unfold, particularly the trial and execution, was of subordinate significance. The only thing that mattered to Athanasius was that Jesus would die and be buried. Athanasius did not interfere with the trial, but he did orchestrate the betrayal by Judas Iscariot, to hand Jesus over to the Romans. The well-known ‘thirty pieces of silver’ were, in reality, 33 denarii that he had paid to Judas. The symbolism of the number 33 held an irresistible beauty for Athanasius. Athanasius also orchestrated Judas’ death.

In the month leading up to the trial that would be initiated by the Jewish religious leaders of the Sanhedrin, Athanasius wanted to gauge Toama’s interest in a crucial role for the Jewish cause. He had arranged to meet Toama at a tavern on the outskirts of the city. It was unusually warm for the time of year, and they sat in the shade of an olive tree, with a jug of wine and some dates within reach. Athanasius had to proceed cautiously. He needed to first determine the extent of Toama’s loyalty to his brother’s cause.

“I’ve noticed that you are reserved in your brother’s fight against Roman authority,” Athanasius began the conversation. “Fear not! I am also committed to the cause and, like him, I see the Romans as occupiers.”

Toama looked at him somewhat suspiciously. He was being cautious. “What exactly do you mean?”
“Jesus is clear in his principles, although he proclaims them with a certain sense of diplomacy. On the one hand, he fights for a political ideal, but he cleverly masks it behind a religious ideology by presenting himself as the Son of your God, the Father. That is a clever move. If you understand me correctly…” Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Athanasius thought. He believed he knew Toama well enough now to approach him through this avenue for his plans.

“I disapprove of the political struggle, for two reasons: the direct fight against the Roman Emperor is unwinnable, and the religious struggle is tainted by the former,” Toama responded, looking slightly displeased.

“I understand that perfectly well,” said Athanasius. “But what if there is a way to resolve the religious struggle in your favor without making concessions regarding the political struggle?”

Toama still regarded him with suspicion, but Athanasius had piqued his curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that there might be a way to reinterpret the words of Jesus in a different light, so that they support your fight without strengthening the political struggle.” It was essentially a repetition, but Athanasius realized that it was not only the substantive arguments that would gain Toama’s trust but also, and perhaps more importantly, the nature and tone of their conversation. Patience was crucial.

“You already said that,” Toama impatiently remarked.

This man doesn’t tolerate games, thought Athanasius. “Indeed,” he replied, “but the matter is delicate. Testing, weighing, and assessing are essential components of sensitive processes.”

“You can’t bargain with the ways of God,” Toama said sternly.

He’s just like Alexander, Athanasius thought, slightly overwhelmed. He decided to take a different approach. “I certainly didn’t mean it that way. Let me ask another question first: How do you assess your brother’s chances at the moment? Will he achieve his goal?”

Toama looked at him with a probing gaze and asked, “What is your stake in all of this?

Athanasius knew how to handle that. “My stake is of no consequence. I serve the Lord God. His interests are my interests.” He looked at Toama with the most earnest expression he could muster.

Toama seemed to be satisfied with the answer. “Very well,” he said, “then I shall answer you. My brother stands no chance against his political opponents, both those of Roman authority and, more importantly, those within the Jewish authority, which operates at a significantly more fundamental level.”

“Does this realization make you despair for your righteous cause?”

“I have unwavering faith that the Lord will provide me with the right tools to serve His cause.”

Athanasius thought, Got you! “Perhaps it has pleased the Lord to send me as His instrument to you.”

Toama needed to ponder this. “We shall see,” he finally said, thoughtfully, “God’s ways are inscrutable.”

“Let us embrace this as a tentative conclusion,” Athanasius said. “I suggest we discuss this again next week. In the meantime, you can reflect on your thoughts; we both know more about the progress of the inevitable trial.” And in the meantime, you can gather information about me, as I’m sure you intend to, he thought further.

Toama agreed to the proposal, and they would meet again in the same place in seven days.

Athanasius immediately decided to start working on Maria Magdalena. He arranged to meet her somewhere to share a simple meal, of course not in the same place where he met Toama.

Maria wasted no time and got straight to the point, asking, “Why did you want to meet with me?”

Athanasius had carefully thought through all possible twists and turns. He had to win her over step by step, in a subtle manner. “I met with Toama yesterday to discuss a matter of importance.”

“And why is this matter important to me?”

She clearly didn’t appreciate elaborate detours, Athanasius observed. “Because I believe you are both lovers.” If she preferred a direct approach, then she would get one, he thought.

Maria stared at him, assessing him. “And why is that important to you?”

“Not in my personal interest,” Athanasius explained, “it is in the interest of Toama’s cause, a matter of deep and fundamental religious importance, an interest that I support.”

She didn’t seem convinced yet. “What exactly is that interest?”

Athanasius resorted to the tactic of the strategic retreat, aiming for a larger leap forward. “Your beloved, Toama, has ambivalent feelings about his brother’s struggle. On the one hand, there is the political battle, which he opposes or, at least, is not convinced of that it will lead to anything good in the short term. On the other hand, there is the religious issue, the affirmation and strengthening of the Jewish faith. It is this latter pursuit that he wants to dedicate himself to…”

Maria interrupted him, saying, “Yes, yes, I know those stories. But in the end, it’s always the men who decide everything. Especially in Jewish religious ideology. There is one God, and He is a man. The disciples of Jesus: all men. The Roman and Greek gods at least include women. I am the only woman in the circle around Jesus, and that is solely thanks to the influence of his twin brother! It’s time to break this male monopoly! Men only think of one thing: power! Even when it comes to women, one thing: power!”

She took a brief breath, which Athanasius gratefully seized. Women! he thought, but he was flexible enough in his thinking to accurately assess the reality of the circumstances. All for the greater cause! “I understand your point, and not only that, I endorse it. Women should be equally involved in the complex religious thinking and feeling, just like men. How does Toama stand on this matter? Is he an ally in this issue?”

Maria looked at him with her inscrutable dark eyes. “We are like Isis and Osiris,” she said finally. “We are united in this matter, in us, the masculine and feminine principles merge. The Primordial God was neither male nor female in the beginning; the Primordial God was genderless and both at the same time, inseparable, unthinkable, an expression of both the All and the One.”

Athanasius suddenly felt overwhelmed by a sense of unease. This woman is strong as an ox, he thought, she is stronger than Toama. She doesn’t refer to that ancient Egyptian myth for no reason; she has a plan, a direction, a goal. “You refer to ancient principles,” he finally said, “but they are also forgotten principles, no longer intertwined with the human soul. The Man has acquired too much power for that. You will need to act courageously, steadfastly, but also cunningly and refined to bring the cause you want to serve to a successful conclusion. I must admit that you caught me off guard with your, nonetheless, very imaginative ideas. I would like to reflect on them and come back to you later.”

Maria looked at him with a hint of disdain. “As you wish. Take your time. Perhaps someday I will look back and see you far behind me, a mere speck on the vanishing horizon.”

Athanasius granted her this point. “Very well,” he said, “I shall withdraw for a while behind my own horizon, and we will meet again in a few days. By then, I will come up with a proposal that will please both you and your beloved.”

Back in his apartment, he pondered for over an hour without moving. Only when a useful thought was born did he rise from his seat. He poured himself a cup of wine, filled a dish with nuts, olives, and dates, and settled on a bench in his patio. He envisioned the outlines of a plan in which he could enlist both Toama and Maria, with their consent, for his greater purpose. He felt that the plan would work, but the crucial point was whether he could persuade the two lovers of its merits. Athanasius contemplated the difference between designing and constructing machines and the planning and being subject to what people ultimately do with the assigned tasks. Athanasius allowed himself a daring thought: What if grace is not a gift from the gods but a virtue? Then the result would be a consequence of one’s own work, a creative act, for, as he vividly recalled from the texts of that ancient Greek thinker, virtue is not the result of an inherent quality but of an action.

During Kircher’s time as a mathematics teacher in Heiligenstadt, he was requested to enhance the festivities in honor of the visit of the Archbishop of Mainz with fireworks and an illusionary performance. For the latter, he had devised a special spectacle to demonstrate the devoutness of the clergy, paying tribute to the bishop. In the choir, a setup was arranged with two large oak cabinets on either side, spaced apart. The doors were closed. The audience sat in the middle section, with the archbishop centrally positioned in front of the stage, and dignitaries on either side of him. Kircher stood in the middle between the cabinets. At his signal, lanterns were lit around the cabinets, bathing them in a sea of light. Then, a thunderous voice emerged from a dark place behind the choir, reciting biblical texts in Latin about the power and might of God. When the voice finished, Kircher beckoned to the side of the choir, and a man appeared in the nave, dressed in a fiery red robe with a straight ultramarine stole draped over both shoulders and an ultramarine bonnet on his head. He walked up to the archbishop, stood before him, and made a deep bow. Then he ascended the stage. Kircher accompanied him to the left cabinet, opened the door, and revealed its empty interior. The man stood beside the cabinet door, waiting. Kircher walked to the right cabinet and opened its door, also revealing emptiness. Kircher gave another signal, and a chaplain appeared on the stage. He nodded to the man, who walked into the cabinet with an elegant stride, turned around with his back facing the back of the cabinet, and made a polite bow to the bishop. The chaplain walked to the left cabinet, the one with the man inside, and grabbed the doorknob. Kircher positioned himself beside the door of the right cabinet. From behind the choir, a soft drum roll sounded, gradually building up to a deafening roar. When Kircher gave a brief nod again, the drum roll abruptly ceased. The chaplain closed the door of the cabinet, and immediately after it was shut, Kircher opened the door of the cabinet next to him, and there stood the same man again. Upon a signal from Kircher, the man elegantly stepped out of the cabinet and made another bow to the archbishop. Kircher gave a sign to the chaplain, who opened the door of his cabinet, only to find it empty. An escalating cheer and applause erupted from the audience; everyone was astounded by the miracle that had taken place. The man walked off the stage and stood before the archbishop again, bowing deeply. The bishop examined the man from head to toe, but it was clear that he was the same man; no difference could be discerned. The bishop turned to the audience, made the sign of the cross, and blessed the attendees with broad, theatrical gestures. Afterward, Kircher joined him and received extensive congratulations for the splendid spectacle. Kircher acted as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world; he was truly blessed by God.

Athanasius reminisced about that evening in Heiligenstadt, a triumphant smile forming on his lips. It was one of his finest tricks, but he had to admit to himself that he had been incredibly lucky. During a visit to nearby Kassel, he had once encountered a pair of twins who bore an uncanny resemblance to each other. He had informed both men about his trick and asked if they were willing to participate, promising a handsome reward, of course. They found it to be a clever plan and were more than eager to fool an archbishop. After the performance, the first of the two men, who had escaped through a concealed door at the back of the cabinet, swiftly made his way to a small room behind the choir, where he changed his attire before discreetly leaving the church. The effect of Kircher’s special lanterns and speaking tubes had been a resounding success. It had also been fortuitous that the chaplain possessed a loud, booming voice that, combined with the effect of the speaking tubes, had not failed to captivate the audience. Now it was time for the grand finale of his switcheroo, the pièce de résistance of his plan; the first instance had been a jest, but this one would be deadly serious. He would need to speak with Toama once again and inform him of the plan. It was a delicate matter, but he couldn’t delay it any longer. Maria Magdalena, too, would eventually need to be involved in the plan, and he suspected that convincing her would prove to be even more challenging.

Ten days after their initial meeting, Athanasius and Toama found themselves once again at the same establishment. Athanasius noticed that Toama’s gaze still bore a sense of suspicion, so he had to tread carefully. “Have you thought about my proposal?” he began.

“What proposal?” Toama looked at him intently.

“The one where I offer to help you with your cause.”

“Why would I need your help?”

“Because I understand your cause better than your brother, for instance.” It was a personal jab, but Athanasius had gathered information suggesting that Toama and his brother were growing further apart.

“Furthermore,” he quickly continued when he saw Toama about to respond, “I am a seer.” It was a bold move, but sometimes one must act boldly. The lion must stealthily stalk its prey, but when the moment to strike arrives, it must act decisively and without hesitation.

“A seer…” Toama said hesitantly.

“A seer.” Athanasius looked at him with a serious gaze that brooked no dissent. “Your brother is currently in Galilee, and I see that he will journey to Jerusalem through Bethany and Jericho with his followers to celebrate Passover there.”

“You don’t need to be a seer to predict that. I’ve known his plans for a few days now.”

“He will enter Jerusalem riding on a donkey, and the crowd will cheer and cry out, ‘Behold: the King of the Jews!’”

Now Toama looked at him curiously and intently. “On a donkey?” he finally asked.

“On a donkey.” Athanasius looked him straight in the eyes. “The Lord of Hosts has deemed it fitting to reveal this to me in the interest of the True Faith.”

“We shall see,” was Toama’s only comment.

“Many will be sighted but blind, while only a few will be blind yet sighted,” Athanasius stated simply.

“You speak like my brother, but I believe only what I see with my own eyes.”

“As you wish,” Athanasius replied understandingly, sensing that he shouldn’t push this man too far. “Let us meet again on that day, and I will unveil my plan to save the True Faith.”

Toama nodded uncertainly and said, “So be it,” before he departed.

Athanasius remained seated under the olive tree for a while, taking the time to finish his wine and ponder. He concluded that it was a good thing he hadn’t fully entrusted his plan to Toama yet. The day of the triumphal entry into Jerusalem would make anything possible. I still need to arrange for a donkey, he thought, but that’s not the most challenging task. Afterward, he contemplated Maria Magdalena. It wasn’t yet clear to him when he should inform her about his switcheroo. During their conversation, he noticed her critical stance towards her beloved, at least in the sense that he was a man, and she regarded all men as antagonists. He believed there was an opportunity to drive a wedge between her and her beloved. Her reference to the myth of Isis and Osiris hadn’t been without reason. Kircher, as a young man, had extensively studied the history and culture of Egypt. He knew the myth very well and suddenly realized how he could manipulate Maria.

Isis was the most powerful of the two. After Osiris was killed by his brother Seth and his body was fed to the crocodiles, it was Isis who managed to bring him back to life by reassembling all the parts of his body. Only one part she couldn’t find, his genitals. Athanasius thought that this was no coincidence; she had to remain superior. Years later — centuries, in fact, but that was a triviality to him — he came across the concept of ‘penis envy’ in a text written by a Jewish physician. Athanasius found it a fitting description for both the ideology of Isis and Maria. What a wondrous, if not grandiose, affair history is, he pondered, at least when you can lend it a hand. He would detach Maria from Toama by convincing her to fully embrace the role of Isis. That was his opportunity. Not only was Toama a man, but his celebrated brother Jesus was also a man. And he was engaged in an operation that could be called typically masculine: the fight against the Roman occupiers. She would represent the better, feminine alternative. Where Osiris and Seth found common ground in their struggle, it unexpectedly turned out well for Osiris through the healing gift of Isis, except for that one detail. But where there is chopping, splinters fall. The more he pondered on this, the more certain he became that this was the tactic to follow. He decided to visit her after the new conversation with Toama following Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem.

As Athanasius had experienced before, the human soul is of a different nature than that of machines. Two days after his conversation with Toama, Maria stormed into his apartment.

“So, you’re a seer?!” she exclaimed.

Athanasius realized that he needed to adjust his plan once again. “Indeed,” he said with a voice that brooked no contradiction. He put on the most determined look he had.

“Jesus enters this city riding on a donkey?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“And is that all you see, or is there more?” Her voice sounded highly skeptical.

“I see what the Lord of Hosts deems fit to reveal to me,” said Athanasius calmly. “

And what else does this ‘Lord’ see, if I may ask?” She pronounced the word ‘Lord’ as if it were a spoiled fruit.

“You don’t believe me,” Athanasius noted. “Why would I inform you of other matters then?” Bluffing – pochen (boasting) – is sometimes the only realistic way out, he thought. He was a rather avid practitioner of the ‘Pochspiel’ (16th century form of poker), although he kept it hidden due to his priesthood.

“The fact that I don’t believe you won’t stop you from trying to convince me,” she retorted.
Athanasius understood that he had to strike now if he wanted a chance to win her over. “I see more than the entry of Toama’s brother into this city on a donkey,” he said. “I also see that he only has a few days to live afterward.”

Maria turned her face towards him and suddenly looked interested. “Tell me!”

“I also see things that concern you.”

“My life is ending too?” she asked sarcastically.

“That is certain, but not so soon,” he grinned. Then, serious again, he said, “I see a future for you, and an important one.”

“Tell me about Jesus,” she said, also serious. “Is he in danger?”

“Yes, he is in danger, but not because fate has determined it so. Nothing that will happen to him is not brought upon himself. He is the only one who determines his own fate. I – in the name of the Lord – do not determine his fate; I merely see it. I also see your path in life, but I am not capable of imposing it upon you. You have the choice to take a different path. I see the possibilities, you could say; I see what lies on your path, should you choose to go that way.”

“Can’t we save Jesus?” she asked, a mixture of fear and determination in her voice.

“No. Just as I am not able to change his fate, neither are you.”

“We must warn him!”

“You can do that. You can try to change his mind, ask him to choose a different path. Others have done this before you, with no result whatsoever.” Athanasius knew she would speak to Jesus about this, but he had known the outcome for many centuries.

“Yes,” she said resolutely, “I will definitely do that. He will listen to me.”

She had to do what she couldn’t resist, it wouldn’t affect his plan, he was sure of that. Athanasius suggested that they would meet again the day after Jesus’ entry. Toama had to be there as well.

After Maria agreed to meet him together with Toama in his apartment, she left. Athanasius believed that he had found a successful opening with her; the beginning was there, the rest would follow. He was quite satisfied with his own performance. He even started to take some pleasure in learning to deal with the unpredictability of the human soul, it sharpened your own thinking and actions in a way not given to those of machines. The realization began to dawn on him that there was a deeper meaning behind these trials, a meaning that could prove to be fundamentally important for the success of his entire endeavor. He walked out onto the patio and pondered the sky for a while. He heard the insistent, penetrating honking of geese, the endless quacking of ducks, the plaintive braying of a donkey, without really listening to them, like hearing the ticking of a clock without being aware of it. You hear constantly, he thought, but listening is an action, a virtue. There wasn’t much left to do, everything had been set in motion for the fateful day of entry, all preparations had been made, he just had to wait; but the idleness weighed on him. He only had to arrange the donkey, but that was far from being a difficult task; he knew exactly where and when Jesus would ask for the animal, having it found on the spot was a piece of cake. There was a lot at stake for him, everything actually; one in everything and everything in one. All or nothing.

The clamor, cheering, and noise were enormous; the spectacle was no less impressive: Jesus, seated on a donkey, the crowd laying clothes on the road for the donkey, holding palm branches above his head, waving hands, and the continuous chanting of King of the Jews! The Roman soldiers, who were visible here and there, kept their distance. Athanasius stood discreetly behind a pillar of a temple. He chuckled quietly when he saw the donkey’s hindquarter, marked with the branded number XXXIII; he couldn’t resist it. He saw Toama and Maria standing across the road, partially hidden in the crowd. They did not cheer. Suddenly, Maria pointed to something, saying something to Toama, who then looked in the same direction, and they began talking animatedly. Athanasius tried to discern what had apparently upset the two, initially it was not visible from his angle, but suddenly a few men emerged, silently and occasionally whispering to each other, walking among the crowd with the procession. Athanasius recognized Caiaphas, Malchus, and Annas, who, along with some other scribes, seemed to be preparing for their confrontation with Jesus. Toama and Maria had meanwhile made their escape. Another unexpected event that cannot be planned but can be excellently used, thought Athanasius. He would make good use of the dismay he believed he detected in Toama and Maria when they saw the conniving scribes, to give them the final push to cooperate with his plan. He would persuade them the next day. All or nothing.

The next day, around noon, Toama, Maria, and Athanasius met in the patio of his apartment. Athanasius had prepared a jug of red wine and some unleavened bread, it seemed appropriate to him. After exchanging the customary pleasantries, Athanasius began: “Both of you have witnessed with your own eyes that the first part of my prophecy has come true. I will now tell you the rest of what has been revealed to me and then unfold the plan I have to serve the True Faith.” Athanasius had placed both his hands devoutly in his lap as he spoke.

“You are alluding to my brother’s death,” Toama said thoughtfully. Maria remained silent.

“Among other things, yes, but there is more,” Athanasius replied. “You both must have noticed the role Caiaphas and his cronies play in this matter.”

“That’s not so difficult to predict,” Maria said curtly. “You don’t need to be a ‘seer’ for that.” From the way she pronounced the word ‘seer,’ Athanasius understood that she was not yet fully convinced of his prophetic abilities.

“I will tell you exactly what will unfold in the coming days,” Athanasius said. “If you are still not convinced of the gifts bestowed upon me by the Lord and my good intentions, then I have no choice but to ‘wash my hands of it.’ And that is precisely what the prefect Pontius Pilate will say when he approves the upcoming execution of Jesus. You can verify that as well, but then we will be too late to take action.” He spoke in a neutral tone, without raising his voice.

Maria was about to make an objection, but Toama beat her to it. “Very well. Tell us what will happen, including all the details, so that we can envision what is to come and get an impression of your abilities. After that, we will decide if and how we will proceed with you.” Maria reluctantly conceded for now, supporting her beloved, albeit with some reluctance.

Athanasius then provided a detailed description of the events of the coming days, describing Judas Iscariot’s betrayal and subsequent suicide by hanging, the arrest of Jesus on the order of the scribes, the armed resistance, the severed ear of Malchus, the sham trial at the house of the high priest Caiaphas, Pilate’s failed attempt to give the Jewish people a chance to free Jesus by offering the criminal Barabbas, the mockery, the crown of thorns, and finally, the crucifixion. He left out no detail. He could see from the expressions on Toama and Maria’s faces that they were deeply affected and impressed by his account.

“But then we can still save Jesus,” Maria had suggested, “we can tell him about Judas’ impending betrayal!” Athanasius had told her that it would be futile, as Jesus already knew that Judas would betray him but had chosen to accept his fate.

“Jesus will be crucified on Passover at the Golgotha hill, at the third hour after sunrise. At midnight, the Lord will darken the sun for three full hours.” Toama and Maria looked at him, devastated, when Athanasius finished his prophecy. They remained silent for several minutes, tears streaming down their cheeks.

Maria was the first to regain her composure. “I must admit that this sounds convincing,” she said. “The abundance of details seems to underline its inevitability. If your story turns out to be a fabrication, you better make yourself scarce right now, for my wrath will strike you like a bolt of lightning!” She glared furiously at Athanasius.

“Everything I said will come about,” he said plainly, “it is the Will of the Lord.”

“What is proposal?” Toama asked.

He needs some kind of perspective, Athanasius thought. Satisfied with Toama’s response. He decided to provide an analysis of the current situation first, in order to successfully link his proposal to it. “I suspect we can agree that the path Jesus is following is a futile one, the path of the martyr. Of course, he hopes to incite a great rebellion against Roman rule, the oppressors who have executed their king. It is the path of the Zealot, a path that is far from yours, and — this is of fundamental importance — far from the path of the Lord of Hosts.” He let his words sink in for a moment and quickly continued before either of them could react. “It is clear that he cannot be persuaded to take a different path. He has already made his decision. However, the result of this will be disastrous for the Jewish community, both politically and religiously. Therefore, we must intervene, not through your brother, but through you!” He gazed intently at Toama.

“Ah, the men will sort it out again,” Maria responded.

“And here you are gravely mistaken. There is an essential role for a woman in this story, a role that is indeed not identical to Toama’s, but is entirely equal,” said Athanasius, looking meaningfully at Maria.

“And that woman is you.”

“Speak,” commanded Toama.

Athanasius interpreted it as an intended expression of Toama’s authority, both towards him and his beloved. He granted him his moment of self-worth and said, “We must perceive the death of your brother as an instrument of the Lord. Caiaphas and his cohorts will celebrate it as a victory, but we will turn this heinous act into its opposite: it will become the victory of the True Faith, a Faith that surpasses the mundane power of the Romans, for though it may seem immense, compared to the majesty of the Lord of Hosts, it is insignificant; just as the blade of grass may seem enormous from the perspective of an ant, but insignificant from the viewpoint of a camel.” Athanasius was not entirely sure if the comparison of the ant and the camel had been well received, but what was said, was said; so he quickly continued, “In other words, with the help of the Lord, we will transform the desired death of your brother, sought by the scribes, into a magnificent victory: the victory of the True Faith!”

“It is easier for an ant to go through the eye of a needle than for a camel,” Maria said.

“I neither underestimate the Romans nor Caiaphas,” Athanasius replied. “We will have to emulate the industry and discipline of the ant, as well as the perseverance of the camel.”

“And the cunning of the fox, which is well entrusted to you,” Toama grumbled. “But get to the point! What is your plan?”

Athanasius understood that the die had to be cast. He took a sip of wine, looked at the couple, and finally got to the heart of the matter. “What if Jesus rises again three days after his death? If it pleases the Lord to raise him from the dead, wouldn’t this be the decisive blow against Caiaphas and his clique? Wouldn’t this be the ultimate expression and celebration of the supremacy of the True Faith?”

Toama and Maria looked at him bewildered. “What do you mean?” Toama asked, “How could this be possible?”

“Is that what you had in mind when you spoke of my role, that I, as Isis, would resurrect the ‘King of the Jews’?” Maria’s voice expressed both disbelief and suspicion.

Athanasius raised both hands and said, “No, not the ‘King of the Jews’ himself, that position will remain in his grave; we need to move away from that political element. Nor do I refer to the mythical act of Isis. Your role goes beyond a one-time miraculous act. It is much simpler because, as always, simplicity is the hallmark of the True.” He made a slight gesture toward Toama. “You will be the risen Jesus, the Son who has been brought back to life by the Father. Three days after Jesus’ death, we will open the tomb and remove his body. You will put on his garment and appear to his disciples. The world will be forever changed.”

Toama and Maria were speechless. Athanasius understood that he had to persist now and uproot their doubt before it could take root. “This opportunity is now or never! The scribes and Pharisees will be dumbfounded, they won’t know what has happened to them; the Romans will be unable and unwilling to do anything, it’s not their concern, and their superstitions will do the rest. The position of the Jews will be strengthened like never before, without armed conflict! The reborn Jesus will preach love, grace, and peace. He will uplift the poor and needy, praise the innocence of children, prioritize forgiveness over revenge. And this will reassure the Romans — he will declare to ‘render therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s. The political and armed resistance will be replaced by the struggle of Faith; Faith, Hope, and Love will be the new core concepts. No sword will prevail against it; this faith will move mountains, calm seas, and extinguish fires.” Athanasius saw that his final words struck a chord with Toama.

Maria remained in doubt. “And my role, the role of the woman? Am I allowed to hold his hand and lovingly shout ‘Hallelujah’?”

“Ah! Your role is of significant importance, and by no means that of a servant. Your task is to establish the woman as an equal to the man. I also saw a plan for that. And yes, it will take time, a lot of time. But Rome and Jerusalem weren’t built in a day. The construction of the one True Church will also take generations, but the outcome is inevitable.”

“Oh, and again, it’s a man who points out the woman’s task, and his plan must be followed to make her equal… Isn’t that a paradox?” Maria shook her fist in the air. “I will make my own plan, I don’t need a man for that!”

“The plan I spoke of is not my plan. I mentioned that I saw a plan; I didn’t create it. You created it, but you don’t know it yet because it is still taking shape. Even if I don’t speak a word about it, the plan will unfold as long as you are open to it. You are free to follow your own path or not to follow it; it is entirely up to you. I will remain silent on this matter.”

Now Toama joined the conversation. “Let us not waste time on power games. If the prophecy of Lord Athanasius comes true, and I honestly doubt it no longer, then we have little time to prepare our actions.”

“Indeed,” said Athanasius, “what needs to happen quickly now is for you to openly distance yourself from the path your brother is currently following within Jesus’ circle. You will later be known as ‘Doubting Toama’, and it is important to make your possible involvement in the resurrection story as unlikely as possible. This should preferably be done today, but at the latest tomorrow. After that, you leave the city, stay away from everything, and only return in the early morning of the third day after your brother’s death.”

Toama nodded several times, seemingly entering a trance-like state. Maria sat there, deep in thought, needing to make a decision. Should she go along with this bewildering plan or choose her own path, not knowing where it led or where it even existed? “Very well,” she finally said, “for now, I will go along. But I cannot say how far I can go; I want to remain true to myself. Only then can I be true to you, Toama. I need time to discover what my path is. Whatever path it may be, I will always be there for you.”

Athanasius understood that he had won the battle. Urgent action was now required: Toama needed to display his ‘doubt,’ Athanasius had to arrange Judas’ betrayal and ‘suicide,’ all the while avoiding drawing attention to himself. Maria’s role would come later, and he was content with her provisional agreement. He was confident he would be able to convince her fully in due course. Athanasius reiterated what he expected from Toama, wisely leaving Maria be. They then agreed to secretly meet on the day of the trial, where Toama and Maria would receive the evidence they eagerly anticipated despite their trust. If multiple details he had predicted aligned, they would truly be fully convinced. Athanasius had no worries; everything would fall into place.

He spent the rest of the day in his apartment, avoiding being seen too much in the streets. The following day, he had to bribe Judas Iscariot, already having the 33 denarii ready and knowing how to persuade Judas.

The next day, he had a meeting with Judas Iscariot, having arranged to meet outside the city walls, at a secluded location. He entrusted Judas with an important task that would serve the True Faith. Initially, Judas looked at him with suspicion, but Athanasius had gathered enough information about him. Judas had little confidence in his teacher’s plans, but, crucially, he had debts. When Athanasius let some coins jingle, suspicion turned into hope. Judas agreed to be present at the designated time.

“I’m glad you came,” Athanasius began. “I want to discuss a proposal that is in both of our interests.”

“Go ahead,” Judas said, glancing nervously around. “I don’t have much time.”

“Certainly, my time is valuable too,” Athanasius said understandingly. “We both believe in the righteous cause, the True Faith, and we both understand Jesus’ position in it. He has a good heart but an impulsive nature, he is a fighter. The latter is not in the best interest of our cause, so, unfortunately, he must disappear from the scene. You understand what I mean, I assume.”

Judas was cautious. “Not entirely, to be honest. I understand what you’re saying about the preacher, but I’m not sure what you mean by ‘disappear.’”

“He must be handed over to the Roman authorities,” clarified Athanasius, “so that the Jewish cause does not suffer further harm. Jesus’ struggle is a lost cause.”

“Hmm, I understand. I agree with you. But what do you want from me?”

“When Jesus meets his followers, you will come there with a cohort of soldiers. You will greet him with a kiss, and then the soldiers will know whom to arrest. To facilitate your task, I have a sum of money here, which you undoubtedly know how to use.”

Judas hardly resisted; he looked greedily at the coins, and any objections he raised were merely formalities. The matter was settled within moments.

The trap set by Athanasius closed according to plan. He observed it happening from a suitable distance. After Jesus was taken away by the soldiers, Athanasius followed Judas, who discreetly made his way out amidst the general commotion and confusion. Judas walked towards the city walls and left the city. Athanasius followed him from a distance. Judas stopped under a group of trees, sat down, and took out a jug of wine. He’s going to get drunk, Athanasius thought. He waited until Judas had consumed a considerable amount and was no longer in the best condition. Then he stealthily approached him, took a cord out of his pocket, and strangled the man. Afterward, he hung him from one of the trees. He scattered the silver coins under the tree.

Athanasius walked cautiously back to his apartment, had a few glasses of wine, went to bed, and fell into a deep sleep.

The next day, he arranged a meeting with Toama and Maria. Both were shocked by the events, but everything Athanasius had predicted, including all the details, had come true. They now believed him unconditionally.

The following days unfolded exactly as Athanasius had told Toama and Maria. On the third day after Jesus’ burial, the three of them met early in the morning at the tomb. Jozef of Arimathea was also present. They cleared the tomb, Toama dressed himself in his brother’s robe, and he and Maria set off to meet Jesus’ disciples to testify to his resurrection. On the day of the crucifixion, Toama had nails driven into his hands and feet, the stigmata that would support his story. Jozef stayed with Athanasius, who had other plans to discuss with him.

Toama’s trick of becoming the “reborn Jesus” worked exactly as Athanasius had envisioned. The seed for Christianity had been planted, and the second phase of what he called his ‘Great Plan’ was almost complete. There were still two things that needed to be arranged: the Ascension and the Descent of the Holy Spirit. For this, Athanasius had to return to Rome, and the Pantheon was essential for the plan. He also had to persuade Toama, Maria, and Jozef to travel with him; they would be the witnesses upon whom the later Gospels would be based. In addition to the three mentioned, Athanasius would also take Philip and Stephen to Rome to ensure a sufficient number of reliable witnesses.

Rome — 33 AD

The group of six departed for Rome three days after the ‘resurrection’. Athanasius was determined to arrive in Rome well before May 14th. It was tight, but luck was on his side — the weather favored him, and it seemed he had the Lord’s approval. On May 2nd, they settled in a guesthouse just a five-minute walk from the Pantheon.

On May 3rd, just after sunrise, Athanasius entered his secret workspace in the Pantheon to make the necessary preparations. He had ten days left. He wanted the ‘Ascension’ to take place exactly 39 days after the resurrection of Toama/Jesus, just as it would be decided in Nicaea. He had brought all the necessary equipment with him on his journey to the year 32.

During the journey from Jerusalem to Rome, as well as in the days leading up to it, Athanasius had extensive conversations with Toama about the necessity of the ‘Ascension’. He had to convince him to play along or, even better, to believe in it. If the spectacle that Athanasius had in his mind would succeed, the witnesses would have no moment of doubt.

“It is of utmost importance that the reborn Jesus be regarded as the one and only true Son of God the Father,” Athanasius began his argument to convince Toama of the fundamental importance of his cooperation in the ritual. “The True Faith is a new Faith, originating from the Jewish religion but with a fundamental addition: the long-awaited Messiah prophesied in the Hebrew Bible has now actually appeared in the form of Jesus, the Christ, the Savior.” Here, Athanasius paused to pour him some more wine. “Because you have understood it correctly! Salvation is not the liberation from Roman rule, as tragically believed by your brother, for, alas, that concerns only earthly matters, matters that we, as servants of the True Faith, do not value. No, it is the salvation of all humanity, Jews, Romans, Chinese, Barbarians… Everyone!”

Toama looked at him expectantly, with a fiery glow in his eyes. He hung on his every word, completely captivated by Athanasius’ words. It should be noted here that Athanasius fully understood that this was not solely due to the power of his words, but that the mysterious elixir he had mixed into the wine also had its effect. The elixir was based on a substance from the Far East, which opened the mind to matters of a supernatural nature and importance. Meanwhile, Athanasius made sure not to consume a drop of it himself. He held the cup to his lips but did not drink from it; he only pretended to. But Toama had developed a taste for it. Athanasius explained how the core value of the New Faith was based on Grace. And Jesus, the Savior, was the incarnate symbol of that Grace. He was the salvation of humanity. Every time the two men saw each other, Athanasius reinforced these words in various forms but always with the same message.

“Hence, it is important for Jesus to ascend to His Father to confirm that he is indeed His Son. As compensation, He will send forth the Holy Spirit from the Kingdom of Heaven, who will help, nourish, and support all the disciples and followers of the True Faith in their belief.”

Toama swallowed every word as if it were sweet cake. The others, especially during the boat journey to Rome, noticed that Jesus/Toama was changing; he seemed to be in a state of trance.

“That is the Holy Spirit,” declared Athanasius.

This was the moment for Athanasius to explain to the others what was about to happen. They, too, were given portions of the elixir through the wine prepared by Athanasius, albeit in smaller quantities.
On May 14th, just before noon, everyone except Toama and Athanasius stood in the grand dome of the Pantheon. Athanasius was in a hidden chamber, busy with his devices. Exactly at 12 o’clock, the sun shone directly through the oculus, bathing the dome space in a sea of light. Immediately afterward, the room filled with white smoke, mixed with the scent of incense. Maria, Jozef, Philip, and Stephen looked in awe at the spectacle. Suddenly, a deep, thunderous voice recited Greek passages from the Gospels about the Ascension. Athanasius, of course, was not bothered by the fact that these passages did not exist in the year 33; the dramatic effect was enormous. Shortly after the voice began declaiming, the image of Jesus/Toama became visible on the mass of clouds. He floated upward, clad in a white robe with his arms outstretched in a gesture of blessing. Gradually, he ascended towards the eye of the dome, only to disappear into nothingness. The four witnesses had fallen to their knees in prayer, deeply moved and profoundly affected by the miraculous spectacle. They considered themselves blessed to be the chosen ones to witness this sacred event. They were the first, and it was their task to tell the world the Great Story!

When Athanasius reappeared, he also blessed the four witnesses, and all of them were in a state of supreme ecstasy.

In reality, the Toama who ascended towards the heavens had been dead for hours. Early in the morning, Athanasius had taken him to his secret chamber in the Pantheon, offering him a large cup of wine that it was imperative he drank to the last drop in order to facilitate the ascension. The wine contained an overdose of the elixir. Toama died immediately after emptying his cup, experiencing a quick and painless death. This was necessary, as Athanasius had decided that Toama must not display any grimace of pain on his face. After verifying that Toama had indeed passed away, Athanasius closed his eyes, prepared his appearance, and attached a stick behind his back to secure his arms in an outstretched position, with the upper arms directed upwards. A construction of his ‘magic lanterns’, mirrors, a smoke machine, and a speaking tube ensured that the scene appeared authentic enough for the four witnesses, with the aid of a substantial amount of elixir, which played its part.

The next day, Athanasius returned to dispose of Toama’s body. He cremated the corpse and scattered the ashes in the dome of the Pantheon, deeming it a fitting gesture. Three weeks later, it was time for the final part of this second phase: the descent of the Holy Spirit.

On June 21st, longer than the prescribed ten days after the Ascension, but according to Athanasius, a negligible detail, Athanasius departed with his machine while the witnesses stood once again in the dome, bathed in a sea of light, accompanied by a dazzling and impressive fireworks display.