The Da Vinci Code

“I assure you,” Langdon said, “despite what you see in the movies, the pentacle’s demonic interpretation is historically inaccurate. The original feminine meaning is correct, but the symbolism of the pentacle has been distorted over the millennia. In this case, through bloodshed.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

Langdon glanced at Fache’s crucifix, uncertain how to phrase his next point. “The Church, sir. Symbols are very resilient, but the pentacle was altered by the early Roman Catholic Church. As part of the Vatican’s campaign to eradicate pagan religions and convert the masses to Christianity, the Church launched a smear campaign against the pagan gods and goddesses, recasting their divine symbols as evil.”

“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.”

“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.

On the table sat a second cryptex. Smaller. Made of black onyx. It had been nested within the first. Saunière’s passion for dualism. Two cryptexes. Everything in pairs. Double entendres. Male female. Black nested within white. Langdon felt the web of symbolism stretching onward. White gives birth to black.

Every man springs from woman.

“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!”

“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.

“It is the mystery and wonderment that serve our souls, not the Grail itself. The beauty of the Grail lies in her ethereal nature.” Marie Chauvel gazed up at Rosslyn now. “For some, the Grail is a chalice that will bring them everlasting life. For others, it is the quest for lost documents and secret history. And for most, I suspect the Holy Grail is simply a grand idea…a glorious, unattainable treasure that somehow, even in today’s world of chaos, inspires us.”

“But if the Sangreal documents remain hidden, the story of Mary Magdalene will be lost forever,” Langdon said.

“Will it? Look around you. Her story is being told in art, music, and books. More so every day.”

The Chalice above. The Blade below.

[…]

He was standing beneath the ancient Rose Line, surrounded by the work of masters. What better place for Saunière to keep watch? Now at last, he sensed he understood the true meaning of the Grand Master’s verse. Raising his eyes to heaven, he gazed upward through the glass to a glorious, star-filled night.

She rests at last beneath the starry skies.

Like the murmurs of spirits in the darkness, forgotten words echoed. The quest for the Holy Grail is the quest to kneel before the bones of Mary Magdalene. A journey to pray at the feet of the outcast one.

With a sudden upwelling of reverence, Robert Langdon fell to his knees.